Pretty Little Lies

by Morgan James

  Giving myself over to the sensation, the tingling in my core built and exploded outward. At the same moment, his cock hardened, and his muscles stiffened as he pulled out, spilling his seed on his stomach, my name a ragged groan on his lips. Exhausted, I sank down on him, our bodies sealed together with a sheen of sweat and desire.

  I lay with my head on his chest, sated and content, a comfortable silence over us. His fingertips trailed over my arm, from my shoulder to elbow, then back again. His chest rose on an inhale.

  “Do you want kids?”

  I felt my eyes widen as I whipped my head up to look at him.

  “Not right now.” Eric chuckled and brushed his lips across my forehead. “Though we might be tempting fate if we keep going like this.”

  He pulled back a tiny bit and stared down at me. God, those eyes. They cut through me, so deep and intense, as if he could see straight into my soul and read me like a book. He seemed to know every desire, every need before I even expressed it. He was so much more than I could have ever anticipated.

  Him asking me to stay had taken my breath away. For a fraction of a second, I’d seen the vulnerability, the insecurity deep in those hazel depths. He was such a strong man—the strongest I’d ever known. While my family had hidden behind firearms and larger-than-life personalities and lots of big talk, Eric did none of that. He didn’t need to. He exuded power and confidence like it flowed through his veins instead of blood.

  I bit my lip and contemplated his question. Do I?

  Though I was surprised he’d broached the subject, the idea of having children didn’t terrify me. Especially with a man like him. The thought of having a family—a real family—made my heart race with unbridled joy. What bothered me was the thought of never seeing my relatives, my hometown, ever again. Chicago was home to me. Could I walk away from my family, from Mama and Matteo? Could I go the rest of my life without seeing either of them again? I missed Mama, but not like I missed Daddy.

  Once again, I wondered what Uncle had done when he found out I had left. Was he still hunting me? In his eyes, I would’ve lost the thing of greatest value—my virtue. He could still bring me back and marry me off out of spite, if not to Nikolai then to someone equally as awful.

  Part of me wanted to go back home just on principle. I hated the thought of leaving all that money behind. Not that I needed it—my life here with Eric was infinitely better. Still, I resented the fact that Massimo had won in that regard. Daddy would be disappointed in me for not fighting for what was rightfully mine. I couldn’t even approach legal counsel or the FBI. Most of the money was dirty, not on any books anywhere, so a lawyer would do me no good. I knew Massimo was on the FBI’s watchlist, but I knew nothing of his dealings. He made sure I was always sequestered away, never to see or hear anything. In retrospect, I should’ve tried harder to gather enough information to blackmail him. Though guards had been stationed all over the house, maybe I would’ve been able to find at least something. Now I would never know.

  I wondered if Matteo might help. He was the only person close to me, and he disliked Massimo as much as I did. But when it came right down to it, I knew that Matteo was loyal to a fault. He would never betray his father—not even for me.

  I debated telling Eric everything, but I couldn’t risk it. I knew what my family represented to a man like him; I couldn’t bear to see the look in his eyes when he found out what I truly was. The last few days had been the best of my life, and though I felt guilty about not telling him the truth, I wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

  I would have to make a decision and make it soon. I couldn’t continue to live like this, existing just on the periphery of happiness. Though my fear had begun to recede, I was always aware of the fact that Uncle still could still come for me. I kept an eye out anytime I was out in public. The only time I truly felt safe was with Eric.

  And speaking of Eric... What I was doing wasn’t fair to him in the least. What if things between us progressed; what would I do then? What if someday he wanted to marry me? My heart threatened to beat out of my chest, both with excitement and fear. He was bound to learn who I was eventually; I needed to tell him. But not yet.

  “Jules? You okay?”

  Swallowing hard, I turned to face him. His brow was drawn into an expression of concern, and I felt my lips curve into a smile of their own volition. God, he was so handsome.

  Laying a hand on his chest, I nodded. “Sorry, I was just thinking. I think I do want kids eventually. With the right man,” I added.

  When I thought about a family, about having kids, he was the man I pictured next to me. Solid and dependable, he was everything I’d ever dreamed of. I didn’t dare tell him that, though. “What about you?”

  “Someday.” His mouth curled into a soft smile as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. “With the right woman.”

  My heart beat a rapid tattoo, pleasure and hope threatening to burst right out of my chest. I was terrified to read too much into his words. His hand came up to frame my face, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze full-on. “You’d be a good mom, Jules.”

  Strong fingers delved into my hair. I knew I needed to tell him everything; but this wasn’t the time. I would give him one thing, though. I cleared my throat. “Giuliana.”

  His eyes flared, and his hand paused running through the long strands of my hair to cup the back of my head. “Is that what Jules is short for?”

  I licked my lips and nodded.

  A gorgeous smile broke over his face. “I love that. It suits you—exotic and beautiful.”

  The hand on the back of my head pulled me down, pressing my cheek to his chest, right over his heart. I snuggled against him, completely content for the moment. I didn’t know how long this would last, but I wanted to soak up every second.

  Chapter 32

  Eric

  For at least the dozenth time, I flipped through the report that Riley had compiled from the deputies’ findings up on the mountain a week ago. Except for the holiday, Joey and Riley had spent every day digging through all the old sales receipts since Herb had resisted any kind of computerized inventory system for years. So far, they’d managed to find fifty-two purchase receipts. I’d sifted out the ones belonging to residents who’d either passed away or who I assumed would be unable to make the trek through the woods.

  Riley had called for backup immediately following the incident, and they’d converged on the scene eight minutes after the shot was fired. Warren and another deputy had followed the trail in an attempt to chase the shooter down, but he was long gone. I assumed it was a he; men were more prone to crimes involving firearms. Still, I couldn’t rule out any of the women in town. Plenty had grown up hunting and shooting with the local boys.

  The person had less than half an hour to make it from the scene all the way back to the general store. Considering the snow and semi-rough terrain, that wasn’t much time. That meant he would have to be hustling pretty quickly, hence me ruling out the elderly suspects. That left us just about thirty leads to track down and investigate, which was still a fucking nightmare. Although this was a small town where cordiality abounded, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. Some people would resist cooperation sheerly on principle of having their privacy invaded.

  I’d run background on each of them, checking for priors, but not much had turned up in that department. Only four residents had prior arrest records. Two had been charged for being drunk and disorderly, another for a DWI. The fourth was Josh Drummond, Cynthia’s ex-husband and my former deputy. I dismissed him, since he was still in lockup down in Kalispell. Two of my deputies were out questioning the other three suspects, but I wasn’t terribly hopeful.

  I flipped the page and my attention zeroed in on the item that had the potential to make or break this case—a shell casing that had been recovered several feet from the tree. My mouth curved in a grim smile of satisfaction as I stared at the photo. It had been tagged and sent out several days ago for the ballistics experts to
study. Each gun left its own identifying mark on a bullet when it left the chamber, and I prayed the striations matched something previously in the system. Moreover, I hoped for something even more substantial—fingerprints.

  I would bet my life that the shooter had tried to locate the casing, which explained the disturbed snow all around the shooter’s location. Knowing that he had only a few moments before we would converge on the scene, he probably left it in haste when he couldn’t find it, then started his trek back across the ridge.

  We almost missed it, too. Considering the shooter had been aiming south, the casing would have ejected to his right—exactly where the fresh layer of snow had been tossed. Instead, it had been found more than three feet in the opposite direction, a tiny indentation in the snow that had gone almost completely unnoticed. The only thing I could imagine was that the shell casing had ejected with so much force that it ricocheted off a tree, sending it several feet to the person’s left.

  Thank God for metal detectors and diligent deputies. It was the only big lead that we had, and I hoped to hell the person had been careless enough to leave a print, even if just a partial. It would be more than we had at the moment, which was jack shit.

  It was a typical quiet morning, and Riley and I were the only two here. Visible through the open doorway of my office, he sat relaxed, feet propped on his desk, a similar report on his lap. “Still no word on the shell casing yet?”

  Riley shook his head but didn’t bother to tear his gaze away from the papers in front of him. “Not yet, but I kind of expected a delay with the holiday.”

  I snorted. I had, too, but it would be nice if they would expedite the process a little bit, considering I was the one being shot at.

  Correction: Jules was the one being shot at. Suspecting—knowing—that she was the intended victim still had the power to infuriate me, and a haze of red burst across my vision. The shooter had been aiming for the driver of the Cavalier, which was typically Jules. No one would’ve been able to watch me pick the car up from McBride’s then trek nearly a mile across the mountain to get into place. There simply wasn’t enough time.

  Whether the shooter had missed me intentionally or by sheer luck was anyone’s guess. It was possible he’d misjudged the mark—or the shot may have been a warning. The glare of the afternoon sun more than likely would’ve obscured the shooter’s view through the windshield, and he may not have been able to discern the driver until I was close enough. If he noticed that I was inside instead of Jules, it would explain why no second shot had followed the first.

  Though I hadn’t come right out and told Jules my speculations, I had a feeling she knew. That brought me to my next question: what else did she know? She was carrying a hell of a lot of baggage that she still refused to admit despite our recent intimacy.

  And, just like that, my brain switched gears, drawn by Jules’s undeniable lure. The woman was absolutely incredible, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe. I wanted her by my side for... well, a long damn time. Even though she’d been with me for only a couple weeks, I couldn’t imagine life without her. Going back to my old life, quiet and boring, seemed inconceivable. Jules made me want things I hadn’t realized I was missing.

  I liked coming home to her each night. I loved falling into bed with her, making love, then waking up to her beautiful face each morning. She’d somehow managed to unlock the deepest, darkest part of my heart that I’d buried away years ago. Hope for the future filled my heart completely, leaving no room for the pain and distrust of the past. I still hoped that one day she would let me in as I had done for her. We were better together; I wanted to help shoulder the weight of her fear so she could finally move on.

  First, though, I needed to figure out who the hell was behind this and put it to rest once and for all. Ironically, Sam Pickett’s name had shown on the list of names Riley had compiled, and that was one lead I wanted to track all on my own.

  Chapter 33

  Giuliana

  The morning of Jack and Mia’s wedding dawned clear and bright. Though I knew it was freezing outside, the first bright rays of light spilled in through the window, bathing the room in its soft golden glow, giving it a warming effect. The heat of Eric’s huge body at my back warmed me from the inside, and I snuggled closer. His heavy arm draped over my midsection lent me a feeling of safety, security.

  Completely attuned to me, Eric’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me infinitesimally closer. His lips found the back of my neck and nuzzled the soft skin, and one thumb brushed the underside of my breast just as I felt his morning erection pressing against my bottom.

  “Mmm...” The faint vibration stirred the hairs on the back of my neck and reverberated through my body. “Morning, beautiful.”

  I turned my head to steal a sweet kiss. “Morning.”

  He brushed a strand of my hair back and tucked it behind my ear. “Sorry I woke you up last night when I came in.”

  He’d been called out late last night and had returned in the wee hours of the morning. I’d felt the slight change in air pressure as soon as he’d cracked open the bedroom door. He slid silently in next to me, his cold skin pressing against mine, heated by sleep. One huge hand had slipped up the outside of my thigh then around to my most intimate parts. He’d made love to me, slow and sweet, and we’d fallen asleep amidst the tangle of sheets more than an hour later.

  I turned on my side to face him, and a smile broke over my face. “Feel free to wake me up that way any time.”

  “Good to know.” He closed his eyes and rolled to his back, taking me with him so I was sprawled over his chest. I dropped my head into the crook of his neck, and his chest rose and fell on a contented sigh as his arms curled around me, holding me tight. “You feel so good.”

  His thick erection prodded the folds between my legs, and I lifted my head to peer down at him curiously. “Again?”

  Eyes still closed, a smile curved his mouth. “With you, babe, I’m always ready.”

  His hands smoothed down my back and over my ass as I wiggled my hips against his. “Is it normal to have this much sex?”

  He barked out a laugh, and those sexy hazel eyes blinked open to meet mine. “God, no, woman. You’re going to be the death of me.” He nipped my lower lip when I pouted, then soothed it with a soft kiss. “But at least I’ll die happy.”

  I shot a quick look at the clock on the nightstand. “We might have to postpone it for a few hours.”

  I was supposed to be at Briarleigh in an hour and a half, and I still needed to shower and get ready.

  “Probably a good idea,” he agreed. “Pretty sure the tank’s empty. I don’t think I could get off right now if I wanted to.”

  I bit my lip to contain a smile. “You seem to recover pretty quickly.”

  “Only because you turn me on so damn much.”

  I dropped a kiss on his lips. “Why don’t you go back to sleep for a bit, since you only got a few hours last night?”

  A wicked grin lifted his mouth. “I’d rather have you in here with me.”

  I kissed him once more. “You’ll need your energy for later.”

  With a soft sigh of regret, he let me go. “You’re right.”

  I paused in the act of rolling from the bed. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you. What was that again?”

  He blinked up at me for a second before my teasing tone registered. I let out a little squeal and squirmed away as he swatted my ass. “Just you wait.”

  I tossed him a smile as I slipped on his uniform shirt then made my way into the bathroom. I couldn’t tamp down my happiness. Being with Eric was... easy. Fun. Freeing. Once he’d opened up, he was nothing like the man I’d met just weeks ago on the side of the road.

  An hour later, I was washed and made up, and I was just slipping the navy dress over my head when Eric came into the bedroom. The scent of body wash emanated from his still-damp skin, and droplets of moisture clung to the hair on his chest and at the vee of his
abs. The sight made my mouth water; I wanted to run my tongue over every inch and lick them up one by one.

  He faltered midstride and stared at me, one hand moving to the knotted towel draped low on his hips. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Just...” I shook my head, struggling to come up with the right words as I moved toward him. “You.”

  One eyebrow lifted toward his hairline. “I’m wrong?”

  “Definitely not.” I slid my hands over his pecs, and he grasped my hips, pulling me close. “You’re everything right.”

  One palm lifted to cup my face, and hazel eyes stared into mine for several long, heart-stopping moments. Then his gaze dropped to my mouth. The feel of his lips against mine was so much more than a kiss; it was a claiming of my body, the stealing of my soul. Whether he intended it or not, Eric owned every inch of me.

  He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. We were so close that our chests brushed with each inhale, and I took a tiny step closer so my body was flush with his. I’d never known a connection like this was possible. There was no place I’d rather be.

  I turned my head and pressed my cheek to the space over his heart. “The wedding is going to start soon.”

  “I know.”

  “We should get going.”

  “Okay.”

  Still he didn’t release me, nor did I move from his embrace. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I pulled back and tipped my chin up to look at him. “Are you coming?”

  A sexy little grin tilted his lips. “Not yet.”

  A laugh broke from my throat, and I slapped his chest. “Is that all you can think about?”

  “Always.” One hand slipped up to the back of my neck, and he lowered his mouth to mine. I broke away from the kiss several long moments later, both of us breathing heavily.