by J. Saman
“Huh,” she says.
“What?”
“That was a while ago, right? I mean, you didn’t just graduate.”
“No. That was a few years back now.”
“No girlfriends since?”
I cringe to myself. “No,” I admit. “I didn’t particularly want one. I dated, some girls longer than others, but I wasn’t big into commitment.”
“Hmm…”
“I was just lost, Sunshine, and didn’t want to bring a woman into my mixed-up world. Or head, for that matter. But once my father died, everything changed. I became focused. Driven. I’m good at this job, and I like it.”
She tilts her face to find mine in the darkness as if challenging me.
“Fuck that, I love it. I really do. It’s just…fun, you know?” She smiles, but it’s half-hearted. I cup the side of her face. “Don’t let my past experience with women make you wary of me now. I’ll be yours if that’s what you need from me.”
“Mine?” she giggles. “You barely know me, Jake Turner.”
I shake my head. “I know you Fiona Sunshine Foss. I know you,” I repeat, because I do. My consciousness recognizes hers. Two lost souls that somehow found each other. “I know you blush easily. You bite your lip to hide your smile. You’re right-handed but can do pretty much anything lefty, too.” I cup her jaw, caress her cheek with my thumb. “You’re smart and a fast learner. You genuinely like bartending but hate waitressing. You’re in phenomenal shape and can outrun me if you wanted to. You’re a shitty shot but have a competitive nature you don’t feel comfortable showing. You’re from Texas and when you get agitated or scared, your accent comes out thicker. Pink is your favorite color, because you wear it whenever you’re not in your uniform. You like chocolate ice cream with caramel sauce.” I kiss her softly, rub my nose against hers. “You feel lost and alone, even when you’re surrounded by people.” She lets out a shaky breath at that last one, like she’s been holding it the entire time I was talking. “I know you, Sunshine, because you’re my girl.”
“Your girl.” She shakes her head. “That seems so…barbarian. And yet so very perfect.”
I kiss her. I kiss her swollen lips and claim them as mine. I claim her. She is my girl and I’m keeping her. Even if that makes me sound like a two-year-old. No going back. No hiding away. I’ll take on her prick of a husband and disembowel him like the pig he is.
“He’s going to come for me,” she says as if reading my mind, unable to even meet my eyes. She’s staring down at the tattoo on my chest, still tracing the lines with her finger. “Niklas was never grounded. Never rooted in place. Gravity flows through him, making him believe he owns it like he did everything else. Like he can manipulate it to his every whim and walk on water if he so desires. He grew up poor and found us with a plan. Money. Niklas never wanted me. It took me far too long to figure that one out. He wanted the Ramsey-Foss fortune. He saw me, and he saw his ability to take over Foss. He swept me off my feet with flowery words and attention I was starved for. But there was never any truth to his lies. Then my parents made a fatal mistake. At least for me. Their will dictates I don’t inherit the main part of the estate until I’m twenty-five. It’s more than just money, though. I hold sixty-two percent of Foss Industries. I could run him off the map, but not until that point. Until then, he’s the CEO. He’s the one in charge. In three years, everything changes.” She blows out a steady breath like just getting all that out was painful, before she finishes it up with, “He’s going to find me and take me back.”
“How come you never went to the police?” I realize it might be a stupid question, but I have to ask.
A bubble of laughter flies out of her mouth. “It wasn’t an option for me. First, it would have looked bad on Foss Industries and I wasn’t raised to air our dirty laundry out for all to see. That may sound like a bullshit excuse, but it’s not like anything would have been dealt with privately. The press would have been all over me, and in case you missed it, female victims are forever seen as the culprit. It also wouldn’t have done anything. Foss Industries, with Niklas as the CEO, donates over a million dollars a year to various police charities. He’s been pulled over at least a dozen times for speeding and never once been issued a ticket.”
She falls silent and I tilt her chin up until she finds me. “And?” Because I know there is more.
She stares at me, deflating as oxygen passes her lips. “And the one time they came, the one time I called them, they saw the bruises on my face and body, and didn’t even arrest him. They gave me medical attention in our home and then left, telling me they couldn’t do anything unless I filed a restraining order, which I believe is a lie. I asked them what that entailed, and they explained if I had one, and he came within the boundaries of that order, they could hold him or temporarily arrest him. That’s it. If we’re married and living together, all bets were off. Niklas proceeded to beat me unconscious after they left, warning me if I ever called them again, he’d kill me.”
Christ. What the police did is not even legal. “We’ll just have to tell him he can’t have you back,” I promise, holding her face in my hand, making sure she believes me because I will never lie to her. I will never let her down and I always keep my promises to her. Always
Fiona leans in and kisses my lips softly. “I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
I laugh, rolling her so she’s on top of me again, her glorious soft tits pressing into my chest. Her warm body flush with mine. My cock stirs to life. It’s late, or early, depending on how you look at it. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since she blew into town, but I don’t want to go to sleep. I want to stay awake and talk to her and make love to her and tell her things I’ve never told anyone before.
Fuck it. You don’t get too many of these moments with someone and I will not squander it.
“What else do you want to be when you grow up?”
She looks down at me, her face hovering inches above mine. She’s smiling. I like this Fiona best, I realize. Happy. Vibrant. Playful.
“When I grow up, I want to be a professional swimmer,” she says this so seriously I can’t help but grin. “And I want to help women and children who come from abusive homes. Be a social worker who specializes in that. And I want to destroy men like my father and Niklas who believe because they have money, nothing and no one can touch them. And I want to be happy. Right now, I smile, but really, I’m just crying through it.”
I reach up and press my lips to hers. “What else?” I whisper against her.
“I want to be a good mother and wife one day. I want to hold my child’s hand when I walk them to school. I want to be on the PTA and make homemade brownies for bake sales. I want to grow a garden and cook delicious food with the things I grow. I want to be good at something. I want to matter to someone.”
“You matter to me,” I interrupt her without filtering myself. “And the rest of that, well, I don’t see why you can’t do all that. Except for being a professional swimmer. That might be off the table.”
She shakes her head. “I’m a really good swimmer.”
I laugh, kissing her nose. Her cheeks. Her eyelids as they flutter close. “I guess you can be anything you want to be when you grow up.”
“Maybe,” she muses. “But all anyone sees when they look at me is money. It’s like having cancer or being a movie star. That’s all I’m known for and it’s all they think about when they speak to me. I’m not just Fiona, I’m Fiona Ramsey-Foss, the billionaire’s daughter. Or worse, Fiona Foss-Vaughn. The heiress. The woman on the arm of Niklas Vaughn. And I’m not asking for sympathy. I realize many people would kill to have the resources I have, but there is nothing glamorous about my life. It’s mostly pain and heartbreak.”
“Then it’s a good thing you ran away.”
“Guess so.” She smiles.
“Just so you know, I don’t see money when I look at you. I wouldn’t care if you were the Mia Jones I met weeks ago on the side of the ro
ad and didn’t have a penny to your name. I’d still like you.”
Her smile shines bright in this dark room. Fi rubs her nose against mine. Releases a deep contented sigh. “I like you, too. And I’m really glad you didn’t rape and kill me that first night. You’re a lot hotter than Leatherface.”
I pinch her side, making her squeal and squirm. I kiss her hard because I can. Because she’s mine. For now, at least. Time, right? It’s out to get us all.
“I’m afraid of falling for you,” she says, her cheeks growing warm, but her steady gaze does not waver.
“It might be too late for me.”
She shakes her head against me like I’m not getting it. “It’s dangerous for you, Jake. For Turner Hotels. Niklas will stop at nothing to bring me back. If he ever knew I was here with you…” She shakes her head again, her eyes as grave as I’ve ever seen them.
“So, he owns everything now?”
“Runs everything. He doesn’t own anything. It’s all in a trust, waiting for me to take over. And he’s restricted as hell now thanks to my parent’s will. I haven’t signed a will making him my beneficiary. But he’s been pushing for it recently.”
“Jesus, Fi.”
“Yeah. He might try and kill me.”
The words sound like they’re meant to be taken in jest. But her tone is goddamn serious. I can’t begin to imagine uttering words like that. Believing your husband is capable of killing you. Of wanting you dead. How does a person reconcile that? I honestly have no idea. And how is she laying here with me, smiling and sweet and so fucking good? God, this woman. She astounds me with her strength.
Sitting up, I cup her face in my hands. “You’re here now. And you’re safe.”
“He’ll ruin your life,” she says almost like she’s thinking aloud. But then her words turn to a warning. “When he finds me here with you, he’ll make sure he takes away everything you have.”
“Are you trying to warn me off?”
“I probably should be.”
Dipping my head, I kiss her. I kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before. Because this is the one that counts the most. “You’re worth the risk. And I can more than handle myself.”
“That’s what all the heroes say before it all falls apart.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Where are you headed dressed like a bible salesman?”
Jake’s wearing a suit, and not the nice suit I saw him wearing that morning I bumped into him. This one has a black jacket that looks like it’s moaning in protest as it desperately clings to his muscled arms, shoulders, and back, black pants, white shirt and a red tie. He looks like he’s going to a Christmas party or a funeral.
He chuckles, reaching for his coffee and taking a sip. The mug he’s drinking from this morning reads, “You’re all fucking idiots until I’ve finished this.” It made me laugh so hard when I saw it, I actually sprayed my coffee out across his counter. Not my finest moment. My mug has a picture of Yoda and it reads, “Coffee I need or kill you I will.” I mean, who has mugs like this? I realized something very important this morning. Jake, this gorgeous, sexy, tattooed, mysterious man, is a closet nerd.
I think it might be the hottest thing ever.
“Work. Not at the restaurant. I’m a pit boss at the Turner Palace down the strip.”
“Oh,” I say, sinking back into my seat. His eyes bounce down to my lips like he’s reliving our kisses from very early this morning in his bed and I feel the color begin to rise in my cheeks.
“I’m a pit boss, a bouncer and a waiter, remember?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to hide my smile behind a forkful of eggs. “I remember. I just didn’t realize pit bosses dressed like that.”
Jake woke me up obscenely early this morning because he wanted to make me breakfast again. I have to get going. I have to be at the Bistro at seven-thirty. It’s almost six-fifteen now and I need to shower and change into my miserable uniform. But I don’t want to leave. I like it here. He’s making it impossible for me to run and never look back. Everything this man does pulls me in deeper.
He leans against the counter, propping his elbows up on the cool, marble counter and pins me with a gaze that instantly has me swarming with butterflies. “Will I get to see you again later?”
I hesitate. I really should say no. I not only had sex with him, but I stayed the night, sleeping in his arms.
“Let me rephrase. I want to see you later. I have a crazy day tomorrow with one meeting after another and then you’re working in the bar by the time I finish. So please, Sunshine, spend the evening and night with me again.”
“Okay,” I say softly because there is no way I can say no. That took alarmingly little persuasion. I’m in way over my head with Jake. With his kisses. With his passion. With his promises of safety. How am I supposed to say no to something that feels so good?
His phone rings from the other room and he throws me a wink. “Be right back.”
Jake runs across the apartment to grab his phone and I decide to be helpful and do the dishes. Something I’ve never done before. I turn on the water at the sink, pick up a sponge, add some soap and get started on the pan. “Hey there,” a deep male voice rumbles behind me, a firm finger tapping me on the left shoulder. I startle, dropping the pan into the sink with a loud clang.
Spinning around, I slam into a beast of a man. He’s a solid seven inches taller than me and easily two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of muscle. It’s not Jake, and I scream out the loudest, shrillest sound I can manage. I can’t even look up at his face. That’s how terrified I am right now. He lifts the thick meat hooks he calls hands, coming directly at me like he’s going to shut me up.
Before he can grasp my shoulders, or my neck more likely, I raise my knee as hard as I can, connecting with his balls. The behemoth lets out a loud howl of pain, grasping his groin and staggering back away from me. I kick him in the side with my foot and he drops to the ground, his head just missing the marble of the island. He falls hard, curling up into a mock fetal position as he continues to groan. But as he falls, I realize my mistake. Maddox. Holy shit, I just attacked Maddox. What the hell is he doing here?
“What the fuck is this?” Jake yells, running into the kitchen and over to me. His hands cup my face as he searches me for any signs of harm.
I’m too rattled to speak, so instead I point to Maddox who is still on the ground.
“Your crazy girlfriend just kneed me in the junk,” Maddox growls, his voice thick with pain.
Jake glances down to the floor and lets out a surprised half-laugh before he turns back to me. “You kneed him in the balls?”
I shrug and then bite my lip to hide my smile.
“And kicked me in the flank, dude. Don’t forget the fucking flank shot she got me with.”
“You kneed Maddox Sinclair in the balls and dropped him to the ground?” Jake’s incredulous and I can’t stop the bubble of laughter as it rises.
“It’s not funny. I should be proud of you for getting the drop on me like that, but this freaking hurts,” Maddox whines like a small child as he cups his family jewels once again.
I roll my eyes. “You’re being dramatic,” I tell him, before my tone turns sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize who you were. You startled me, and I reacted.”
“Yeah,” Maddox groans, rolling onto his back, blowing out a couple of deep breaths in rapid succession. “A mistake I’ll never make again.”
Jake bursts out laughing. “Jesus Christ. No one has ever gotten the drop on him. Ever. You’re amazing. I think I might need to marry you.”
“Glad I could help bring you two closer together.”
“Sorry,” I apologize again, feeling just a bit bad. And if I’m being honest, secretly awesome. I just kicked his ass. I put this giant, muscled man on the floor and in all the weeks we’ve been training, I haven’t managed that. Not once. I’m smiling. I know I shouldn’t be, but it’s sort of unavoidable.
Maddox manages to right hi
mself, using the island to help hoist himself up.
“Are you okay?” I ask concerned.
“I’ll live. I just wish you hadn’t taken out my future children in the process. Usually a woman has to sleep with me before she castrates me.” Maddox smiles and when he does, all of his hard features soften.
I giggle a little at that. I might still be a bit giddy. “Just doing my part for womankind.”
Maddox’s eyes widen and Jake laughs, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and kissing my face.
“Besides,” I quirk an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest, “who sneaks up on an easily excitable, unsuspecting female? Really, this could all be construed as your fault.”
“My fault?” Maddox points to his chest. “You’re a real spitfire this morning.”
I shrug.
“At least all those hours of training have paid off.”
“What?” Jake’s eyes bounce back and forth between us. “How do you know about that?” Maddox freezes and so do I. “You two know each other? How?” And then a light of realization flashes in his eyes and suddenly, it’s like all the pieces come together for him. He pivots to Maddox, his gaze steely as he points a stern finger at him. “You. You’re the one who gave her the universal keycard. You’re the one who got her the jobs at Valaria’s and The Bistro. You’re the one who’s been training her.” Jake turns to me. “Did you know about my friendship with him all this time?”
He’s hurt, and maybe a bit suspicious, and I can understand both, but I shake my head. “I had no idea you two knew each other until a few seconds ago. Maddox never mentioned you were friends, and I only said your name once in passing.”
“So…” Jake trails off, unsure of his next question though he’s clearly all questions.
“We’ll talk about it later,” Maddox says to him in a tone with an expression I can’t quite read. I think it’s the sort of unspoken thing best friends do. I mean, that’s all I can come up with, even if I’ve never experienced it firsthand.