by Lindsey Hart
Rhett blinked. Who was this girl with the wild, easy confidence? The crazy tattoos? The girl wearing all black to a wedding? The girl who came after him and picked up the pieces of the hot mess he’d turned into? The girl who didn’t bat an eye when he nearly vomited on her sensible black flats with the little kitten eyes and ears.
Yes. She really was wearing a set of cat shoes with that black dress that nipped in at the waist and flared out. He realized, as his eyes traveled lower, that her legs had tattoos too.
His mind whirled and he imagined her naked, all that beautiful ink on display. None of the women he dated had even one tattoo. He didn’t even have a single tattoo.
Because he was an asshole extraordinaire, his eyes flicked upwards towards Bella’s breasts. The dress hid smaller, pert breasts neatly, but he wondered, as his eyes rose up awkwardly, to her ears, where a set of large black plugs filled up her lobes, if her nipples might be pierced.
What the fucking hell is wrong with me? I’ll probably go straight to hell for puking on the sacred floor, and for ogling my ex’s sister, imagining her naked, with pierced fucking nipples. Nipples that are probably gorgeous and perky.
Fuck. Me.
No. Seriously. That is just so damn wrong.
Fucking hell, here I come.
Bella’s eyes darkened as they searched his face. Like she knew what he was thinking. She probably did. It wasn’t just a trick of light because the light in the room was pretty poor at best. It was actually filtering in through a peephole sized window that looked more of a mistake than an actual window, in the far-right corner.
“I’m supposed to be getting married right now,” Rhett groaned.
Bella nodded. “I know.” A wicked smile turned up her gorgeous lips, and god help him, he wanted to lean forward and taste her. Her face was so close that her breath tickled his cheek.
Aware that his breath probably smelled terrible after his little regurgitation fest, Rhett leaned back a little further. Bella’s eyes swept over his face again. She didn’t seem disgusted. Didn’t tell him that he was gross or pathetic or that he stank.
She would probably never say that he had a small dick.
Which made him think about her naked again. He shut his eyes and let out a groan that was both feral and completely helpless.
Hot mess didn’t even begin to describe his sorry ass at the moment.
“Hey…” Bella’s warm hand was at his shoulder again. His eyes flew open to find her face in front of his, those dark eyes studying him intently. “Do you want to get out of here? Like, just jet it? Text your family and tell them you changed your mind. I’m sure my sister didn’t fucking endear herself, so they’ll probably breathe a sigh of relief, just like my parents did when I chose to move and not come home. Like. Ever. Except for things like this. I’m surprised I even got an invite, honestly. I guess it would have looked bad if someone found out. Mom and dad like to put on a fucking show. So do my sisters.”
That was certainly true. Bella had Sarah down to a T. Steph too most likely.
What the hell was I even thinking? How could I have been about to make that woman my wife?
God, he’d given up so much for Sarah over the years, he didn’t even know who the hell he was anymore.
“So?” Bella’s dark brow arched. “Are we going to jet it? I have a rental car out back. We could make a run for it. Just- get lost for a couple of days, until it all dies down.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Sarah will get over it. She has Bob, after all.” His mind did a crazy, whirling thing where it wondered if Bob was actually a guest at their wedding. Had she invited her lover to see her get married? To screw her after when she disappeared to go freshen up or some bullshit?
“Don’t think about it,” Bella whispered. “All my life, I felt like an outcast in my own family. It wasn’t until I got away that I felt like I could breathe. You’ve just been suffocating for a long time. You’ll feel good again, like yourself soon. I promise.”
Who the hell is this woman and how can she be a Berns?
“Yeah…” Rhett’s hand shook when he scrubbed it over his clean-shaven jaw again. He’d spent so much time getting it just right. All of it. From showering that morning, carefully shaving, styling his fucking hair right down to his damn tux and the square-toed Italian leather shoes that pinched his damn toes and blistered his heels.
He was suddenly suffocated, just like Bella said. He was too hot, sweating in his tux. His hands tore at his clothes before he knew what he was doing. He ripped his jacket away, the expensive cufflinks flying and landing with little pings on the floor. He threw the jacket aside, rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, tore his tie from his neck, and slowly sucked air into his lungs again. He stood shakily and kicked off the freaking shoes he hated so much.
There. He felt human again.
He studied Bella, who got slowly to her feet. His eyes raked up from her cat shoes, up her shapely legs, the tattoos hidden slightly under her dark hose, up her dress, to her curvy hips, her narrow waist, those breasts that were enough for a handful… to her face.
Rhett nearly blushed when he realized what he’d just done but Bella stared him down boldly, like she knew, but didn’t care or like she knew and did care, but she’d excuse him for acting like a dick just this once, given the circumstances.
“So?” she held out a hand, palm up. Hell… there was a tattoo on her palm, just a pattern of dots spreading out in a mandala type thing.
Was that what those things were called? Rhett didn’t even know. Who the hell tattoos their palm?
“Yeah,” he nodded; his voice strangled. “Get me the hell out of here.”
It was all the encouragement Bella needed. Her grin was absolutely devilish, like she was having far too much fun in thwarting her sister’s big day- not that her sister hadn’t done that herself already.
Her much smaller palm took his. Long, slender fingers wrapped around his. He realized he was cold. Ice cold. Her warmth seeped into him and even that made it easier for him to take a breath.
“I’m sure there’s another way out of here where we don’t have to pass that room again.” Bella winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll get us out. Very spy-like. We just need some dangerous, up-tempo theme music playing in the background.” Her eyes flicked to the ceiling. “Not that organ shit going on up there. God. Who wants to get married to that? It sounds like a funeral.”
Rhett laughed. It was the full belly kind of laugh where his diaphragm actually hurt a little after. He hadn’t done that in a long, long time. Laughed. And truly meant it.
He hadn’t done much of anything that he truly meant lately.
For like, the past seven years.
Go fucking figure.
He was so busy trying to think of how to make a life where Sarah was happy that he’d forgotten how to live at all. He’d forgotten what it meant to try and be happy himself.
And that’s how Rhett found himself sneaking through the basement of an ancient church, led to freedom by his unlikely savior, shoved down into the backseat of the world’s tiniest, neon green, rental sedan, leaving the huge church further behind with each minute that passed.
Heading to… god, he had no idea where he was heading, but freedom was a hell of a start.
CHAPTER 3
Bella
For all intents and purposes, she’d just kidnapped the groom. Stolen him away to the promise of a better life.
She really did believe that the poor lost soul in her backseat, who also happened to be blue-eyed, tall, and hot enough to freaking lick, really was better off without her sister.
God, was Sarah a complete idiot? It was bad enough she was just using the guy for his money, which he probably had enough of, given the size of the wedding and the expenses she’d heard her parents talking about, but really… he was over six feet of pure granite walking sex.
She may or may not have stolen a glance at his ass when she’d shoved him into the backseat of the car at t
he church. Lord. It was harder than rock. Probably crushed rocks when he sat down on them. His whole body looked like steel under the expensive clothes. When he’d rolled up his shirt sleeves to reveal bronzed, muscled, striated veiny forearms, she’d just about died. She couldn’t help it. Forearms and rolled sleeves were every woman’s weakness.
Except for her stupid, mean, evil, filthy, cheating sister.
A small dick? She’d overheard that too. Sarah had been talking loud enough to wake the dead.
Unless the guy in her backseat had some genetic anomaly, Bella very much doubted he had a small dick. No, his dick was probably as hard and amazing as the rest of him.
Fuck. Can it get any more inappropriate?
She figured it could. At least she was thinking complimentary thoughts about her sister’s ex. No, she had to stop thinking about him like that. He had a name. Rhett. A beautiful, sexy, old-fashioned in one of those chivalrous handsome sort of ways, name. A melt you in your shoes, panty soaking kind of name.
Maybe he only does that to me.
Bella doubted it. Even though Sarah showed a complete lack of regard for Rhett and her parents talked about him like he was a living, breathing bank account for Sarah to withdraw money from as she pleased, Bella knew the rest of the world could probably appreciate Rhett’s assets.
He was tall and broad-shouldered. Had that kind of athletic form that came from good genetics as much as it came from working out. He was probably a runner, not a weightlifter at the gym. If he did bulk up, it was likely only a day a week or something. Hell, she knew nothing about weights or gyms. She thought gyms were gross. Couldn’t stand them. She preferred to work out in her own apartment. Yoga and belly dance videos were just as good as an expensive gym membership, thank you very much, with a hell of a lot less people there to gawk and judge and ridicule her lack of coordination or the extra inch of skin on her midriff when she bent over.
His dark hair was cut fashionably short and styled nicely. He had baby blue eyes that any sane woman, and hell, probably half the male population out there, could get lost in. His features were nicely carved out of the same stone that had obviously birthed him. Sharp cheekbones, a granite brow, a hard jaw that was probably made harder given that he had it clenched so tight his teeth were probably going to shatter at any moment.
Bella glanced again in the rear-view mirror. “Hey.” She actually had no idea what to say. It was probably best to use humor. “Did you happen to text your family? They’re probably worried that you’re dead or- or kidnapped by the black sheep of the Berns family.”
A smile ghosted over his lips and her stomach tightened. An unexpected rush of heat swept over her. No, maybe not completely unexpected because the guy in her back seat was hot as sin and as tempting as Satan would have been back there, minus the pitchfork and tail and horns and all that, Satan in human form… that’s what he was. Dressed to tempt her into sinful territory.
“It’s just my mom,” Rhett said in that dark, gravelly voice of his. His jaw relaxed a little, but Bella’s clit kept on throbbing inappropriately. Her clit didn’t listen to her brain and at the moment, her brain wasn’t offering up a lot of helpful rationality anyway.
“What?”
“It’s just my mom. I’ll text her now.”
“You mean that whole church was full of people on my sister’s side?” Bella snorted. She should have known. Sarah would have had the largest wedding possible. Her parents probably invited half those guests just to show off to everyone they knew that their daughter was marrying into wealth.
Ha fucking ha. Look where that got them. The uncharitable, cavewoman part of herself was having a blast.
Rhett produced a phone from his back pocket. He was still sprawled across the back seat even though the chances of someone seeing them were long over with. They were nearing some part of town Bella didn’t know, though she’d spent the first eighteen years of her life in Phoenix.
“How old are you anyway?” he asked as he raised his head. He straightened out and sat up, though he had to lean to the side since the car was so low and small.
Bella’s eyes flew to the rear-view mirror. “What kind of question is that?”
“Well, seeing as you’re the youngest and Sarah was thirty-one and Steph was twenty-eight, you can’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six. I really just want to know how someone gets this many tattoos in such a short amount of time?”
Bella actually laughed. She knew it was probably rude, but she couldn’t help herself. Rhett smiled back at her, and damn. She was momentarily blinded by that dazzling smile and those pearly whites and had to tear her eyes back to the road before she got them both killed and ruined a perfectly good rental car.
“I actually started when I was sixteen.” She took another turn like she knew where she was going, not driving around aimlessly, just putting miles between them and that huge old church.
“Really? They let someone that young get tattooed? I can’t see your parents signing for it.”
“Ha, no, they never would have. My mom was so pissed when she found out. I started on places that they wouldn’t be able to see. My arms and legs. Kept them covered up all the time. I- I had a friend who had an older brother who was an artist. He was just an apprentice, but he was really good. He needed someone to practice on before he took real clients, so I was kind of his guinea pig.”
“Seriously? You let someone tattoo you who didn’t know what they were doing?”
“Hell, no. He knew what he was doing. He was an amazing artist. He’s one of the best in the city now. He always did good work. He didn’t tattoo me for free. I had to pay, but like, a quarter of the price. I had a job working as a waitress at this pizza diner, so it worked out. I could pay for it.”
“And your parents really didn’t know about it?”
“Nope. Not for years. I finally let my mom see it when I had my grad dress on. By then, I almost had two full sleeves. I just left the bottom parts undone. She just about fainted. She was so mad. She refused to go to my grad ceremony as punishment. Not that she really wanted to go anyway. I did everything she didn’t want. Bought my dress second hand. It was vintage. Did my own hair and makeup. Refused to let her take me to some stupid spa to get a stupid ass manicure for it. I was smart, but I didn’t try very hard in school. I actually had to upgrade to get into college. I mostly did that just to piss my parents off too. Got just above passing grades. I actively had to try to not be good at it.”
Rhett scoffed. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. It seems like…” he trailed off and Bella grinned though she knew he couldn’t see her face.
“What? That the whole black sheep thing might be on both sides? You fucking bet it is.”
“You swear too.”
“Fucking rights I fucking swear,” Bella laughed. “I started mostly to drive my parents and sisters nuts, but it kind of became a habit.”
“So, what do you do for a living?”
“Oh. That. Well, I have a degree in English, which is kind of useless job wise, unless one day I can miraculously land a job in a communications department somewhere, but that’s so… corporate. It would make my family way too proud of me.” Bella sensed Rhett’s smile from the back seat, and she couldn’t stop hers either. It hadn’t been a long time since she smiled. She had a dry sense of humor that usually cracked her co-workers or clients up every single day, and she laughed right along with them. It had just been a long time since a guy made her smile. Or, rather, a guy who she was actually interested in.
Not that I’m interested. Definitely not interested in being someone’s rebound. Or anything where Rhett is concerned. Nope. Not going there. Never. Ever. Going. There.
It had just been too long. She’d sworn off guys for the time being, after a string of shitty relationships left her exhausted in the dating arena. She was done with getting back on the shitty horse after getting bucked off so many times. Maybe if someone actually gave her a good bucking, she wouldn’t have
so many problems trying to get motivated to wade through the shit sandwich to find the one.
Not that the one existed.
Fairy tales were for the stories she loved so much. She was an English major for a reason. Sentimental, romantic bullshit was for people who believed in spending money on expensive jewelry, buying cards, flowers, gifts and eating out on Valentine’s day.
Not for practical people like her.
“So, you work at a bar?” Rhett guessed.
“Nope. A tattoo place actually. I do reception and all that. Take bookings, help out clients, clean up. I made sure mom and dad knew without a doubt about it. The perks of the job are good. Discount tattoos by good artists who get me in without the long waitlist.”
“So, what’s with the ink anyway? You just do it to piss off your folks?”
“Who says folks anymore?” She laughed, but when Rhett didn’t join in, she sobered. Her eyes flicked to the mirror and found him clenching his jaw again in that horrible teeth dusting kind of way that looked terribly painful. A vein throbbed angrily in his forehead. He probably thought she was taking a dig at him just like her shitty sister did.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it in that way. It was supposed to be a joke. I’m not going to sit up here and hurl insults at you after my sister just took the lowest pot shot at you in the history of low potshots. As in… she might have hit you so fucking hard in the balls that you have zero future chance of ever making babies.”
Rhett’s teeth ground audibly.
“I mean… shit. Sorry. I’m completely inappropriate at the best of times. I work in a place where the word, fuck, has meanings that you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It’s thrown into literally every sentence anyone says. I guess I’m just used to crude jokes and the way anyone expresses any kind of love for anyone else, like friendly love, is to be sarcastic and witty. And horrible. I- I’m sorry. I’ll try to- be more considerate.”