by K. L. Kreig
Is that what he meant? A threesome with Noah? Was this all just a game? Is he upset about the other night? Noah is every woman’s fantasy, but he’s not mine. I know I have a lot of walls and when Shaw tears one down, I throw another one up. I know I haven’t even talked to him about my most painful loss: my sister. But is this the way he’ll end us?
Nausea stirs up all those doubts and fears I thought I’d just buried. My legs wobble under my skirt, and my throat feels like it’s closing. Weakness momentarily conquers strength and I set two fingertips against the arm of a nearby chair to steady myself. And to think I was about to rush into his arms and tell him how I’ve fallen in love with him and can’t imagine my life without him.
Now the smile she gives me is genuinely sad and full of heartbreak.
“From one woman to another, get out before it’s too late. Find a man who’s capable of loving someone besides himself, his family, and his twisted partner in crime. Shaw Mercer doesn’t do commitment. He’s like the wind. Uncatchable.”
Uncatchable. That’s what I’ve thought all along.
My heart feels sluggish and weak as this incredible sadness tries to take me under. For long blinks, we size each other up, quiet. She’s waiting for a reaction, a fight, a naïve rebuttal maybe. But what would be the point of that? I believe every word she says is true and it crushes me.
After I take a moment to recapture the breath I lost, I do the only thing I can. What I excel at. I ease back into Summer’s skin and become someone else. It’s the only way I’ll get out of here without falling apart. Or scratching the bitch’s eyes out. “Well, then it’s probably just as well I’m looking for a great fuck instead of happily ever after. H-E-As are for suckers and romance novels.”
I don’t spare her another glance as I turn on my heels and flee. On unsteady steps back to Shaw, though I feel her eyes boring holes into my back, I keep my head high and heartache buried in an abyss that seems bottomless. The plastic smile is back in place as I slip into his strong arms and I work double time to keep my muscles from shaking with tremors of despair.
I’m generally the master of disguise. It’s become as natural to me as taking a breath. Only this time, as Shaw whispers, “Are you okay?” quietly in my ear, I genuinely wonder how I’m going to pull off the greatest act of my life.
How do I pretend nothing happened when I felt the world split open right beneath my feet?
Chapter 13
I glance over at her again, seemingly engrossed in a paperback, wondering what in the hell is going on. She’s been quiet and distant ever since she came back from the restroom last night.
Oh, she slid into my arms easily enough. Kissed me back when I kissed her. Even danced with me until I took her back to my place and made love to her until she begged me to let her sleep.
But not once did she melt for me. Her muscles weren’t soft and pliable. Her sighs were hitched, but not the sweet kind that has her coming around my cock. It was as if she was working overtime to hold all her emotions inside that vault she deadbolts watertight. Her mind was anywhere but on me and what I was making her feel. It simultaneously pisses me off and terrifies the hell out of me.
“Is it good?” I ask, drawing those detached eyes up to mine.
“Is what good?” She uncrosses her legs and tucks a bare foot under her opposite thigh. She kicked her shoes off the minute we boarded the plane, grabbed that damn book, and hasn’t said five words since. Her other foot swings back and forth, the bright pink paint making me want to drop to my knees so I can worship her from the ground up.
I cut a glance to Noah, who is sitting across the aisle from me, reading the financial section of the New York Times. A big part of me wishes he wasn’t here so I could spend the next several hours coaxing the truth from her.
I nod, looking down. “Your book. Is it good?” It must not be. I haven’t seen her turn a page in the last ten minutes.
“Very.” Short. Curt. Bordering on antagonistic. It’s irritating. Very fucking irritating.
“That’s it,” I bark. I throw the papers in my hand to the empty seat next to me and unbuckle my lap belt. Scooting forward, I dig my elbows into my knees and lace my fingers together. If I don’t, I may very well drag her over me and redden her ass until she spills whatever she’s bottled up inside.
Maybe I’ve taken the wrong tactic with her all along. Maybe a strong hand is what she needs to break through that fucking wall, not coddling and patience. Something I’m almost out of.
I’ve spent the last hour discreetly poring over every document that Jack Hancock couriered over yesterday, trying to find a needle in the haystack that will give her and her mother their rightful due. But that goes to the wayside for the moment because this woman coils me into knot after knot with that sharp, sarcastic tongue. And it’s time for her to have a little taste of her own medicine.
She eyeballs my every move, her breaths picking up.
“What’s it?” She hits that word “it” hard, like a punching bag, now holding that damn book like a shield. As if she needs anything else to keep her from me. I reach out, pluck it out of her hands, and toss it so it joins the papers next to me.
“I want you to tell me what’s going on.” Her eyes flick to Noah, then back to me. I’m well aware Noah’s attention is 100 percent on us, even if he’s pretending to read the stock report. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. I asked you a question and I’m waiting for an answer.”
Those eyes. Those beautiful fucking eyes that would make nations fall turn hard and flinty.
She. Is. Pissed.
Good. It’s a reaction, at least. Better than this silent bullshit she’s been pulling for the last fifteen hours.
Her jaw clenches and unclenches a few times before she spits, “It’s a good thing we’re thirty thousand feet in the air right now, Drive By.”
I bark a short laugh. “It’s a good thing we’re not alone right now, Goldilocks. If we were, your ass would be on fire.”
She sucks in a sharp hit of air, her gaze going back to Noah’s. Staying there. If he’s looking at her, I can’t tell. I don’t give a shit, anyway. I’m done playing. I’m done being soft. She’s going to answer me. I stare at her until her eyes find mine again.
They’re fire and ice.
It’s a fucking turn-on.
“I don’t know why you’re holding back. Isn’t that your thing?” Her voice is piqued and she cocks her head in that challenging way that makes me rock hard.
My eyes narrow, replaying her cryptic words again. I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about, but whatever it is, it’s why she’s suddenly so cold to me. She’s not stepping foot off this plane until we get to the bottom of it. I may be new at this relationship stuff, but there is one thing I know: if we don’t communicate, we may as well throw the white flag now.
“Is this the part where you give me some vague female rhetoric I’m supposed to decode? Because if it is, I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I may excel at a lot of things, but I don’t mind admitting mind reading is not one of them. Passive-aggressive isn’t your style, so why don’t you just say what you want to say and we can move past it.”
She draws her bottom lip into her mouth and looks away. This time she stares out the small porthole, and I know it’s time to back off. I’ve done what I set out to do. Make her mad. Make her think. Make her understand I am not going anywhere she doesn’t go, too.
Then it’s my turn to suck in a breath when she says without looking at me, “I ran into one of the conquests you and Noah shared on the way back from the ladies’ room last night.”
“Oh fuck,” I hear Noah mutter.
Yeah. My feelings exactly. Guess I have my answer as to why she’s shut me down cold.
Of course she’d eventually hear about Noah and me. It was the reason I hired her in the first place. It was foolish to think she wouldn’t find out, but to hear it from some scorned one-night stand who wanted more than we would give her isn’t the way I would ha
ve planned it. Not that I would have planned it, ever.
I juggle my options. I could feign ignorance, but that would only belittle her and she is worth far more than petty lies. Besides, all of that is past tense anyway. Meaningless. So I cop to the truth.
“Who?” I ask, but it was the sound of agony on a cloud of regret instead. First Annabelle, now Willow. More and more I’m wishing I could undo all my past indiscretions when it comes to Noah and me, even if it was consensual and every one of them predates her.
Willow turns to Noah. Noah—not me—and a feeling I can’t even describe wallops me. I am insanely, irrationally jealous to the point I am not thinking clearly.
Does she want that? Him? What if she does? Would I give that to her? Could I?
No. Oh hell to the no. He won’t lay a single finger on her. Jesus, I feel utterly sick. I swallow the bitter bile creeping up my throat.
“Voodoo Eyes,” she answers softly, again not to me but to Noah. If I didn’t think we’d all be sucked out and plunged to our death, I’d muscle open the emergency exit and throw him out. The only person I want her attention on is me.
“Who the hell is—?”
“Lianna,” Noah answers before I finish punching out my question.
Now it’s my turn to curse. I hang my head, squeezing my eyes shut. What an absolutely fucked-up situation this is. “Did you know she was there last night?” I ask Noah.
“I saw her briefly, yes.”
My head snaps his way. “Then why the fuck didn’t you say anything, asshole?”
Noah throws his hands up. “Jesus, Merc. Because she wasn’t causing any waves and I didn’t think she was worth mentioning. She runs in our circles, man. She was bound to see you with Willow at some point. Hell, she’s surely seen you two in the papers by now. This day was inevitable.”
“But at least I could have managed the situation instead of it turning into the clusterfuck of the month. I could have talked to her, prepared Willow.”
His mouth turns up, his smile wry. “Right. That probably would have done the trick.”
“Fuck you, Wildman.”
“I’m still here,” Willow says, her quiet voice raw with hurt. I am gutted. Utterly gutted. I can only imagine the bullshit Lianna filled her head with.
“She meant nothing,” I tell her adamantly, looking deeply into her lustrous eyes, her hurting soul. Christ, I hate myself. I want to take away her pain, not add to it.
Her gaze bounces between Noah and me. Every fear she has is front and center. So damn easy to read. “Yeah. She made that pretty clear.”
Lianna. That fucking bitch. I think of the many ways I can ruin her, but none of it matters if I don’t have Willow at the end of this. I see no one before Willow. Nothing after her, either.
In a flash, I’m kneeling on the carpet in front of her, her face between my palms, my lips on hers. My sorrys pushing into her with every sweep of my tongue.
Her tiny palms land on my chest. She pushes. Reluctantly I break our kiss, but lean my forehead to hers, panting, gasping for a chance, praying for a life with her. Why is it people are trying to rip the only woman I’ve ever coveted from my hands at every motherfucking turn?
“You are not her, Willow.”
I feel a tear roll over my thumb. Hand to God himself it takes everything in me not to weep like a baby. Her pain is mine. Hundredfold.
“You are not like anyone. You have changed me. You are all mine, you understand that? All fucking mine. Tell me you believe me.”
Believe that I wouldn’t let Noah touch one hair on your head, let alone hear the way your breath hitches when you unravel.
“I’m trying,” she whispers. Her hands now come to my forearms, curling around them. “I really am.”
“We are stronger than any force working to tear us apart, Willow. Unbreakable.”
Mergen. Lianna. Fate.
Fuck them all.
We are airtight. I have to believe that. If I don’t, how can I convince her?
When she nods, I pull back. It takes a few seconds, but when her eyes—full of unshed tears and doubt—reach mine, I have to bite back my confession of love. If I tell her I love her now, what will it mean? Will she believe me?
Again, it pisses me off that those three important words will be trivialized if I say them right now, just like after her little lunch with Mergen. But I push that anger aside, wanting only to focus on making Willow feel loved and special instead. I may not be able to say it yet, but I will show her. Actions speak louder than words anyway, and the time will be right eventually.
Needing closeness, I undo her belt and sit back down, bringing her to my lap, glad she’s not fighting me for once. The seats in our Gulfstream aren’t terribly big, but Willow is small and she wiggles around until she wedges into me perfectly.
Edging a finger under her chin, I tip it up. The water has subsided but isn’t yet gone.
I love you, I silently tell her. So fucking much.
I’m trying to believe you, I’m sure she says back.
Believe, I assure her. Please, believe in me.
I smile. She forces one back. Never in my life have I felt this conflicted about what to do. I’m heading to a Podunk town in the middle of nowhere USA to track down a scared, recovering drug addict, hoping she helps me put one threat to rest, when I have another fucking one pop up.
The words poised on my tongue should be said in private, not in front of Noah or anyone else, but we’re not landing for another two hours. I can’t wait two hours. I lower my voice, murmuring, “Trust that what I have with you is unlike anything I’ve had before, Willow. With anyone.” When I see her listening—really listening—I continue. “I’ve been moving toward you my entire life. I just didn’t know it.”
Those tears—each one like tiny razor-sharp splinters stabbing into me—flare up again. Her palm touches my cheek. It’s soft and warm like her lips, when she leans up, pressing them tenderly to mine, sighing my name.
“There’s no one in here but you.” I grab her hand and place her palm flat, right over my heart. It’s racing. Beating for her. “No one else has ever been in here before. No one will be again.” I didn’t understand that crushing loneliness took up that space, but it’s noticeably absent now, replaced with the only woman I’m convinced can breathe the very life into me.
She smiles. It’s shaky. She needs reassurance I’m happy to give.
“You and me. That’s it. That’s all it will ever be, Goldilocks. Just you and me.” And I don’t just mean no other man will ever touch her, including Noah. I mean I want to commit everything I am to her and her alone. I’m surprised at the desperation I feel to tie her to me. Make her my wife. Beg her to carry my name, my heart, my children.
My fucking God, I’m lost to her.
“Thank you,” she mouths so damn sweetly I want to carry her back to the bedroom and spend hours showering her with pleasure. I think about it. For a couple of seconds, it’s all I can think of, actually, but the thought of Noah hearing even one of her sexy moans deflates the swelling happening inside my dress pants.
“You look tired.” I noticed the whites of her eyes were bloodshot when I picked her up early this morning. She said she hadn’t slept well, and it’s entirely my fault. I can’t imagine what’s been going through her head since she ran into Lianna.
“I am a little.” Her lids fall low as if it’s suddenly too hard for her to keep them open.
Palming her head, I rest it against my shoulder, telling her, “Close your eyes, beautiful. I’m not going anywhere.” Ever.
I stroke her hair until I feel every muscle of hers loosen. In minutes she falls asleep soundly in my arms and I can finally relax. Taking in a long pull of air, I blow it out and lean my head back against the headrest wondering what the next few hours will bring me. Answers? More questions? Relief, or a plunge directly into a hell of my sister’s making?
I wish I knew what I was going to walk away with here. I want it to be Willow. I need
it to be her. I need it to be Annabelle, too.
Christ almighty.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Noah watching us. I roll my head and look at him but his eyes are on Willow. Instinct makes me tighten my hold. She snuggles and sighs contentedly, even in slumber. It’s as if she knows her place is with me. I watch him watch her, this inscrutable look on his face but at last, when our gazes connect, his whole face lightens and the corners of his lips turn up just a bit. “It’s all going to work out.”
“This whole thing is fucked,” I say back, quietly. “Mergen. Annabelle. Now Lianna. Jesus, I can’t seem to catch a break here.” I let my eyes run over Willow’s incredibly gorgeous face, fresh and innocent in sleep. Her eyes move fast behind her closed lids like she’s dreaming. I can’t help but press my lips tenderly to her forehead before I give my attention to Noah once again. “I haven’t wanted anything this much in my entire life, Noah.”
He purses his lips and gives me a clipped nod. “She’s not going anywhere, Shaw.” He’s filled with conviction I seem to be missing. I’m glad one of us believes.
“I hope you’re right.”
The fact she’s worried she’ll end up like every other woman before her—naked between my best friend and me—would be valid if she were anyone else. It will take work on my part to convince her otherwise, but it’s work I won’t mind putting in. I’m not worried about that in the slightest because it will never happen.
No…there is a far bigger issue at play that’s causing the acid in my gut to eat away at my lining.
If this little meet and greet with Lia Melborne today goes south, I have no fucking idea where that will leave us. Or if there will even be an us anymore.
Chapter 14
That dream.
Noah patiently lingering.
Chest heaving.
Cock straining.