by Lili Valente
“Shit,” I say, realizing why Halloween is a date that should have stuck in my head. “I’m supposed to be at a party tonight, too. The charity throws a block party every year and the kids trick or treat the street. I usually try to make an appearance for at least an hour or so.”
Shane squeezes my hand with a smile. “That’s okay. I like kids and block parties. We’ll go after we’re done here. I’m pretty sure neither of us will actually die of sexual frustration.”
“It’ll only feel like it,” I say, returning her grin.
“Exactly.” She laughs as she leans in to kiss me. It’s a quick kiss, but it still makes my head spin. This woman is my drug of choice, and I plan on getting absolutely wasted on her as soon as possible.
“Oh, you two,” Denise says with a heavy sigh. “I think you’re even cuter together than last time I saw you.”
An hour later, we’ve proven to Denise that we are indeed cuter, sweeter, sexier, and even more in love than we were the last time she interviewed us. We make a date for pictures, say good-bye on the sidewalk outside the bar, and go our separate ways just as the sun is starting to set.
By the time Shane and I catch a car headed uptown to Hell’s Kitchen, the block party is already in full swing. Kids are running down the street, laughing and shouting and clutching pillowcases full of candy, while the grown-ups cluster around the heat lamps near the food trucks. A few of the older siblings have found darkened steps and are sitting close to their boyfriends and girlfriends, stealing kisses in between bites of cotton candy.
“I wish we were sixteen,” I murmur to Shane, nodding to a pair of kids tangled up in the shadows. “And could get away with a public make-out session.”
“I don’t,” she says, curling her fingers into my arm. “If you’d gone for my butt virginity when I was sixteen, I would have freaked out.”
I smile. “I wouldn’t have made a move like that when I was a teenager. And I hate to break it to you, princess, but that wasn’t your butt virginity. That was just foreplay, getting you warmed up for the main event.”
She turns to me with wide eyes, looking so horrified I can’t keep a straight face. “I’m kidding,” I assure her with a laugh. “I’m just kidding.”
Her breath rushes out. “Thank God. A finger is one thing. That dragon in your pants is another.”
“Now you know how I really got my nickname.” I wink and she laughs, and I decide convincing her that I could take her ass and make it feel so good she’d beg me to fuck her there again can wait for another time.
Some things are better presented in the heat of the moment, with the assistance of several orgasms and some quality lube.
Stop it.
Stop thinking about fucking her pussy or her ass or any other part of her or you’re going to be that creepy guy walking around the block party with a hard-on.
“Want to bob for apples?” I ask, deciding some cold water on my face would be a good thing right about now.
“Absolutely,” Shane says. “But before we leave we have to find some kids willing to share their loot. I haven’t had Halloween candy in years.”
So we do. We bob for apples, visit with the organizers over cider, and then join a group of kids spreading candy out on the sidewalk to compare their hauls.
Shane trades her silver bracelet for three pieces of chocolate from a little girl who is clearly more impressed by the pretty woman than the boring hockey player she sees several times a year. A couple of the kids want to chat about the hat trick at the Blackhawks game, but by the time Shane swaps her cell phone case, a Starbucks gift card, the flashlight on her keychain, and her earrings for more candy, she’s the star of the block party.
At least as far as I’m concerned.
As we leave with Shane’s purse full of treats, I can’t help leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Thanks.”
“For what?” She wraps her arm around my waist. “Scoring us candy for later?”
“For being so generous with them.”
“I have so much, Jake,” she says, her smile fading. “Giving away some jewelry and a cell phone case isn’t a big deal. It’s lame, really. I would have hit the toy store and brought some better treats if I’d known we were coming.”
“It is a big deal to them. And to me. You’d be surprised how many rich people I meet at fundraising events who wouldn’t give another person a drink of water if their accountant weren’t breathing down their neck demanding more charitable deductions for tax breaks.”
“No, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She rolls her eyes. “I run a charity, remember. I know all about misers and never-enough-itis.”
“Right,” I agree, thinking that’s the perfect way to describe those people. It’s like they’re diseased. “Even when the evidence that they’re better off than most people can even dream of being is staring them in the face, all they can think about is how to get their hands on more and keep it from everyone else.”
She sighs. “Greed is in our DNA. But it’s going to destroy us if we’re not careful. Nothing good ever came from crushing the weak to make the strong stronger. We’re all in this together. Too many people forget that.”
I stop at the end of the street, near the barricades keeping the party from the traffic on Ninth Avenue, and turn to face her, my chest tight, but in a good way. “You remember when you said you could fall in love with me because of what I said the other night?”
She nods, a hint of shyness in her eyes that makes me want to kiss her. But then, what about her doesn’t?
“I could fall in love with you for that,” I add in a softer voice. “You’re making me believe in good people, Willoughby.”
Her brow furrows as her gaze drops to the sidewalk. I’m about to ask what’s wrong, when she says, “I had Bash look into your past. Before you were eighteen. To see if you had a juvenile record.”
My throat squeezes and my tongue goes sluggish in my mouth. “What?”
“I asked him before you and I were doing more than working together.” Her fingers thread together as she lifts pleading eyes to mine. “Penny and I were having breakfast the other day and she told me that Bash found something, but I said I didn’t want to know. I want you to decide how much you want to share about your past.”
She takes a deeper breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the night or the moment. I just needed to tell you. I’ve been feeling guilty about it, even though I swear I never would have put something like that in motion if our relationship had been personal from the start. I just didn’t know you at the time, and the fact that you were unwilling to go to the police, even after you’d been attacked, made me worry.”
I nod slowly, the tension in my jaw beginning to fade. “And how about now? Are you still worried?”
“I am,” she says, honestly. Because Shane is strong enough to be honest with the people she cares about, even when she’s saying something they don’t want to hear. “But I also know you so much better. And I trust you. So I’m willing to wait until you’re ready to talk to me.”
I reach up, brushing her hair from her cheek. “I was ready the other night, princess, but someone got naked and distracted me.”
Her lips curve. “If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the only one getting naked. I refuse to shoulder all the blame on that one.”
“All right,” I concede, threading my fingers into her hair. “I might have contributed to the distraction. I’m pretty magnificent when I’m naked.”
She laughs. “You are. Completely magnificent. So…are we okay?” Her hands come to rest on my chest. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad? I like that you’re honest with me. I like you, period.” I lean down, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I’ve also got a good idea what Bash and Penny found. I’ll fill you in on the way back to my place. We should be able to catch a cab since it’s not too late. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.” She pushes up on tiptoe, kissing me again, smiling against my mouth when
she’s finished. “I’m glad you’re home, dragon.”
“Me, too,” I say, liking the word “home” on her lips, thinking I could get used to coming back to this woman, to her smile and her kiss and the way she makes every good thing better just by being along for the ride.
As we step to the edge of the curb, scanning the oncoming traffic for an open cab, I’m thinking about asking Shane to move in with me and wondering how long I’ll have to wait before that won’t seem fucking crazy. I’ve only known her a week and I can count the times I’ve slept over at her place on one finger, but I already know I want every night I can have with this woman.
I want her in my bed and in my life and standing beside me making me feel not-alone for the first time in years. Maybe the first time in my life.
Growing up, I felt like I had to take care of my mom and my brothers, to be the man of the house my father was too messed up to be. I put that on myself, and never resented my family for it, but I can’t deny I was glad to graduate and get out, finally putting some distance between me and all that responsibility. Taking a hard look at myself, that’s probably why I’ve never gotten too serious with a woman. Deep down, I’ve been reluctant to shoulder that kind of emotional load again.
I didn’t realize that it could be like this, that my girl could be someone I can trust to have my back, to help carry the load. Someone who might even be able to help me figure out how much of this crap I can stop carrying around.
I’ve got baggage. I’ve known that for years, but I’ve never even considered therapy. My baggage felt like armor—heavy, but necessary for my own protection.
But maybe I’ve been wrong.
I think about those blinders that horses wear, the ones that keep them from seeing anything but the track straight ahead. I think about my life and all the things my blinders have kept me from seeing—things like hope and kindness and reasons to believe the best about people instead of the worst.
I’m caught up in the sea change going on inside of me, and the feel of Shane’s hand in mine, so distracted I don’t see the guy coming until he’s grabbed Shane’s arm and pulled her away, ripping her hand from mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Jake
Shane cries out as she stumbles, falling to the sidewalk. The man who grabbed her reaches for her arm again, but I’m already on him, slamming my shoulder into his gut as I drive him into the wall of the building behind us.
My thoughts are nothing but a blur of rage and fear and the blinding need to get this piece of shit away from Shane as fast as I can. To get him away from her and to make him regret the moment he decided to touch her for the rest of his fucking life.
I pull back a fist, slamming it hard into his gut. He groans, but before he can suck in a breath, I hit him again and again.
I hit him until he gags and spit dribbles from his mouth onto the black mask he wears. I hit him until his knees buckle, and some quiet voice in my head insists it’s probably time to stop, but I don’t.
I don’t stop until I hear Shane cry out, and I turn to see another man in a mask bearing down on me with a two-by-four he must have grabbed from the pile of trash on the curb. I dodge, catching the blow intended for my head on the shoulder instead, and spin around, preparing to fight the second guy for control of his makeshift weapon.
But instead of coming for me again, the guy throws the board. I lift my arms, protecting my face but catching something sharp in my arm in the process.
I curse as a stabbing sensation spreads through my forearm. I reach up, ripping the board away, revealing a nail covered in blood. But it’s not a lot of blood, and I’m still good to fight. I raise my fists, ready to take down the guy who hasn’t had my fist in his gut yet, and see both men hauling ass down the sidewalk, the second guy supporting the first.
I start after them, but Shane grabs my arm. “Don’t, Jake. Please!” The fear in her voice makes my heart start racing all over again.
I spin back to her, scanning her for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” she says, shaking her head. “But you aren’t. You’re bleeding.”
I glance down at the red stain spreading through the fibers of my torn sweater. “I’m fine. It was just a nail. I’ll wash it off when we get home.”
“Unh-unh. No way, Falcone.” Her gaze hardens as she shakes her head from side to side and her fingers curl deeper into my bicep. “We are going to the emergency room and you’re going to get a tetanus shot. I’m not going to let you get lockjaw on my watch.”
“I don’t need a tetanus shot.” I glance over my shoulder, thinking what I really need is to finish beating the shit out of the men who tried to mug Shane, but they’re already out of sight.
I turn back to her with a sigh to see her clearly gearing up for a fight and lift my hands in surrender. “Seriously, I know I’m up to date. The team doctors make sure we’re covered for tetanus and bacterial meningitis in case of skate cuts or assholes who don’t know how to keep their hands off their mouth guards during a game.”
Shane’s shoulders relax away from her ears and the fire fades from her eyes. “All right. If you promise you know you’re good.”
“I promise,” I say, taking her hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nods slowly. “Yeah. Just shaken. That was just so…strange.”
“Yeah, you don’t expect that shit in Midtown,” I say. “There are so many cops around here. Not the smartest place to start mugging people.”
Shane shakes her head, her frown deepening. “More than that, why go for my purse? There are dozens of other women around here who aren’t standing next to a man who has muscles on top of his muscles.”
“I don’t know.” I run a hand through my hair, wincing as pain flashes through my knuckles. I’m going to be feeling those punches for a few days, but that bastard will be feeling them for a lot longer. “You do have that rich girl look about you.”
“Oh yeah?” She arches a brow. “How’s that?”
I shrug, sensing I could be getting into dangerous territory. “Something about your hair, I guess? It looks softer than a normal person’s hair.”
She harrumphs, clearly unimpressed.
“And your clothes, maybe? Or your purse? It’s expensive, right?”
“My clothes are from Macy’s, not the expensive part, and my purse cost fifty bucks at a sample sale,” she says. “Aside from having expensive highlights—which half the women around here have, I’ll add, because you wear your hair every day and it is worth the extra expense—there is no reason to target me over an easier mark.”
My lips part, but before I can speak, she adds, “And speaking of clothes, the man you hit was wearing a very nice sweater, and both of those guys had recently showered. I could smell their shampoo.”
“Thieves shower, too, Shane,” I say, though I have to admit what she’s saying makes sense. “Maybe they were planning to hit the club after they stole your identity and emptied your bank account.”
“Or maybe this wasn’t a random mugging,” she says, pinning me with a sharp look. “Maybe it was a message, Jake. And maybe it’s time we went to the police and told them everything about Keri before one of us gets seriously hurt.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Shane
So. Mad. I’m so flipping mad.
So mad that I flag a cab to go back to my own apartment—alone, without any big stupid men along for the ride—but Jake leverages himself into the backseat with me at the last moment, insisting on escorting me to my front door and making sure I’m safe.
Making sure I’m safe, even though he doesn’t believe that I’m right about Keri sending thugs to scare me into breaking up with him. Even though he knows his ex has been following me around the city since he left, and that I’ve spotted her lurking in doorways no less than four times, because I told him all about it.
But still he refuses to take my theory seriously, or to go to the police to report the attempt
ed mugging, because the attackers’ faces were covered and we “wouldn’t be able to help the cops identify them anyway.”
He’s crazy. And frustrating as hell.
And a patronizing jerk who ignores my insistence that I can make it up to my apartment by myself just fine, and stands with his arms folded in the elevator, calmly avoiding eye contact even though I’m glaring at him like it’s my job.
“I’m sorry,” he says as we zoom upward. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met. Bar none.”
He inclines his head. “Could be. But I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“If you really wanted me to be safe, we’d be at the police station right now.”
“We couldn’t see their faces, Shane.” His tone implies that I’m the most stubborn, unreasonable person in the universe. “A thousand men in Manhattan have the same build. Going to the police won’t accomplish anything. Trust me, if there was a chance in hell it would, I would go with you to file a report. Nothing is more important to me than keeping you safe.”
I cross my arms, holding his gaze as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. I step past him with a harrumph and start digging in my purse for my keys.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, tailing me to the door.
“What’s what supposed to mean?”
“The harrumph. The harrumph and the glare.”
I shrug an icy shoulder, hoping he feels the chill.
“Come on, princess,” he says, voice rough. “Aren’t we a little old for the silent treatment? At least talk to me. I can’t make anything better if you won’t talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say, even though my stomach is in knots and all I want to do is fall into his arms and get lost in his strength and be where I’ve wanted to be since the moment he left Saturday morning.