Mr. Dangerous (The Dangerous Delaney Brothers Book 1)

by July Dawson

  Was Rob aware of the word canoodle?

  "Hey," I said, and then, because sometimes Rob made me short-circuit like a robot, I said again, "Hey."

  Alice gave me that pitying look again, damn her, and wandered off to put the silverware away.

  "I was thinking about going for a swim," I said.

  "Yes," Rob said. "I need to blow off some steam."

  I wondered where Rob had been that morning, since he had woken me up to kiss me goodbye— "I won't make that mistake again," he'd promised me— and then left quietly with Liam. I had thought maybe he was picking up one of his brothers from the airport, or visiting Mitch, but he was back too early and without any additional tall blue-eyed gods.

  "I'll get my suit," I said.

  Fifteen minutes later, we splashed into the surf behind the house. I felt my troubles drop away, at least for the time being, at the shock of the cold water lapping at my stomach. I splashed Rob playfully as he waded in front, sending a spray of white water across his broad shoulders and the lean V of his waist.

  He turned around, grinning, and tackled me into the water. My feet slid out from under me, his arm catching me around my waist, and I caught my breath just before my head went under the water. Rob pulled me up again, the two of us bobbing in the water as he wrapped that powerful arm around my lower back.

  "Best to get wet all at once. Just get it over with."

  "What are you, fifteen?" I asked, but I couldn't help smiling.

  "I would be scared to do that with most girls," he said, pressing his nose against mine. The intimate contact made me smile helplessly. "You're something special."

  "Because I'm a good swimmer?"

  "No," he said. "Not because of that."

  Then, as if he'd said too much, he stepped away from me. My bare feet touched the rough pebbles at the bottom, seaweed briefly twining around my legs and then slipping away.

  "Race you to the buoy," he said.

  "Why?" I asked. "There's nothing at the buoy."

  When he started to answer, I threw myself forward, his words getting lost as my head slipped underwater. I'd bought myself a lead. As I surfaced, I saw him, laughing, start to follow me.

  Rob swimming was a thing of beauty, all lean grace, his broad back muscles rippling as his arms parted the water. I would have liked to watch him, except my competitive impulse took over. I swam hard for the buoy.

  By the two of us swam back to the boat house and sat on the sun-warmed dock, my muscles were pleasantly tired, but I felt invigorated and relaxed by the swim.

  "I'm not going to stop swimming," I said, pulling my hair back into a ponytail and slipping a sodden elastic band off my wrist to tie it. "I'd forgotten how much I liked it."

  "Why would you stop swimming?"

  I froze. I hadn’t meant to bring up the ticking clock on our swims. "I mean, I'm going to have to find a triathlon group or something. Or Masters? Someone to swim with."

  Rob's face went studiedly neutral at the reminder he would leave Rhode Island, and me, behind. It wasn't that long from now, either. I didn't know how much Mitch's situation changed things.

  But it probably didn't change things much, or maybe Rob would say so.

  I leaned away over the sparkling water, feeling the smooth, damp wood under my palms. Rob slid a finger under my bathing suit strap, and I turned to look at him as he tugged me close.

  Whatever Rob was thinking, he didn't say it. Couldn't say it.

  He pressed his soft lips against mine. And despite my common sense, my hand rose to rest possessively on his cheek again, almost as if my body had a will of its own when it came to him.

  He leaned back, pulling me with him, and I straddled him as he lay back on the dock. The uneven boards of the dock were rough against my knees. I kissed him hard before I looked up towards the house, but we were blocked from view by the blocky outline of the boathouse.

  His hands slid down my waist. I felt the electricity of his touch pulse through my body even through the slick spandex of my swimsuit. His hands wrapped hard around my hips, and I pushed my hips against his.

  Rob peeled my swimsuit straps down from my shoulders. I wriggled out of the suit, and as I pushed it down around my hips, his breath caught. I took in the way he was looking at me, as if he was drinking in the sight of my bare breasts and shoulders. He ran his hands over my bare skin, his fingers stroking away the drops of salt water that still clung to my skin, his palms cupping my breasts. When he caressed me, the roughness of his palm against my nipple sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.

  "You're so goddamn perfect," he said softly.

  "We'd better hurry," I murmured, before I pressed my lips to his. My heart raced with the fear of being caught and with my lust for Rob.

  He moaned softly into my mouth as I stroked my hand over his thighs, finding his cock through his swimsuit. Then in a quick motion, he was on top of me, his weight braced with his hands to either side of my shoulders. I slid my suit down my legs, leaving it looped around my ankle so I'd be able to find it again in a hurry.

  Rob pressed against me, the tip of his cock brushing over me sending a wave of desire and exultation through my body. I slid an arm over his shoulders, holding him close.

  He pressed deep inside me, and we moved together, and it felt like even the movement of the ocean lapping at the beach around us stilled. The world went quiet except for our motion, the way we were getting lost in the pleasure of each other's bodies and the sounds of the other's breathing. I clung tight to Rob's neck as my orgasm grew to a tight, rippling intensity, my muscles spasming around him. My toes curled against the rough damp boards of the pier.

  Rob's handsome mouth fell open with the pleasure of his own orgasm, and I felt proud of myself that I could make him lose control for a second, just for a second, even as my own body seemed to levitate against his.

  I lay back on the warm deck, breathing hard, spent. Above me, the blue sky spun dizzily.

  "I want to do that again," Rob said, his voice husky.

  I grinned. "Me too."

  Then I bit down on my lip, thinking of the countdown, of how few days there were left to do that. I didn't just want to do it again. I wanted Rob's body to be mine, to wake up to his kisses and to sip from the same mug of tea, for the rest of my life.

  I sat up, reaching for my swimsuit. Competition suits were tight to begin with, and I wasn’t the same size I’d been in high school. I struggled to drag the wet fabric up over my thighs and stomach. I could feel Rob start to smile as he watched me. With a jolt, I thought of how hungrily he’d taken me in when I was undressing, how opposite his amusement was now.

  I looked so ridiculous to Rob’s grandmother, and I always had seemed pathetic to Kate. The way I looked to Rob now–fighting with my swimsuit after having public sex with him like I was some… some… hussy–must be ridiculous too. Someone who would do whatever Rob wanted, desperate for a little bit of him. The housekeepers’ sad daughter.

  If I were Kate, would he talk to me about what was going on with the investigation?

  "I know, I'm irresistible," I said tartly. "Don't fall in love with me."

  Rob's smile dropped away. "Naomi."

  I yanked the straps up over my shoulders and walked away towards the house.

  “Naomi!” he said, his voice commanding. He raced after me, catching my shoulders with his hands. I turned reluctantly to face him.

  “You can’t chase me, Rob,” I said. “You’re naked.”

  “I want to know why you said that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I said. “You are a fucking enigma yourself, Robert Delaney. Why do you think I should talk about my feelings when you won’t do the same?”

  “I told you,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I may not be good at talking about my feelings, but I’ll show you how I feel.”

  “Yeah?” Quicker than he could react, I ran across the dock and scooped up his swim trunks. I balled up the wet material and threw it as far as I
could across the shimmering surface of the water. His trunks unspooled in the air, landed in a breaking wave and began to drift away across the surface of the water.

  I turned to him and said, “That’s how I feel, Rob.”

  His face was furious. “I should spank your perfect little ass.”

  “You could try,” I said. “But you’re going to have to choose between that and going after your trunks. And I don’t think you want to have to walk past your grandmother naked.”

  He turned from me to the water, and I had a funny feeling I knew which he was going to choose. While he was distracted, I raced for the house. He took a few steps after me and then stopped, turning back to the sea.

  By the time I reached the house and let myself in through the deck doors, I wanted to cry. I was both a shameless hussy and a hopeless brat.

  But I wasn’t going to bring him a towel.

  He kind of deserved it.

  30

  Rob

  I walked with the planner, a bubbly woman we'd gone to high school with, and the caterer through the entryway of the house, where workers were shaking out linens over cocktail tables. I had dispatched a disbelieving Liam off to bodyguard the girls; I could trust smiling Alice to make sure his credit card was used, finally, on a new dress.

  Naomi didn’t hate me. Someone who hated me wouldn’t have had such an epically crazy breakdown on the pier and tossed my swim trunks halfway to Cape Cod. We needed to have a serious talk about those antics.

  But no matter what, I wanted to give her this beautiful, perfect night. Even if Naomi had said, on the way out the door, “I don’t want this,” only to have Alice pull her away, talking to her about freedom and Vera Wang.

  "Yes, lights, flowers, magical decor, that sounds great." I nodded, knowing I probably sounded less than enthused. This wasn't my area of expertise. I only cared about making Naomi happy.

  I heard heels clicking across the floor behind me a second before I smelled Happy.

  I turned to find Kate behind me, just like I'd known I would. She wore her dark brown hair in a smooth French twist above her smiling face, and her slender white shoulders were exposed by the lines of her little black dress.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "Hello to you, too," she mock-pouted. "Your grandmother asked me to come... although it does seem like maybe she was confused about the hour." She turned to take in the set-up in progress.

  "Let's go ask her," I said, taking a step back and gesturing her ahead. I resisted the urge to settle my hand into the small of her back to guide her through the house, the way I had a hundred times before, the small and intimate gestures that had been a part of our relationship.

  "Have you seen my grandmother?" I asked one of the catering staff in the kitchen, who were busily setting up and finishing their mise en place. "So tall? Gray hair? Nose probably stuck firmly in someone else's business?"

  Kate smiled. "You know she loves you."

  "That, I never doubt," I said. "Her common sense is a different story."

  "She was explaining how she wanted the deck decorated the last time I saw her," the caterer said.

  "Explaining. How she wanted things." I said to Kate. To the caterer, I said, "Thank you. And that was... tactful."

  Kate opened the French doors onto the deck, but gave me a teasing look over her shoulder. "Be nice."

  "I'll be nice," I promised. "I'm always nice."

  "You are a lot of wonderful things, Rob, but nice isn't one of them."

  "What?" My tone was playful in response, but her words rankled. Kate knew me better than most, better than anyone who wasn't a SEAL or a brother of mine, anyway.

  "Don't worry. Nice is overrated."

  "You say that because you're a lawyer."

  She gave me a playful smile I knew well and breezed outside.

  On the deck, little white lights were being strung everywhere, their glow lost to the daylight. The surf rolling in seemed like a constant roar below.

  Rebecca said to one of the staff, who was hanging lights, "That looks lovely, thank you.”

  "Kate's here," I called. "We were wondering why you told her that she should be here three hours early. You know Kate's always been prompt..."

  Rebecca turned, her face brightening. "Oh, Kate! It's so nice to see you."

  "Nice to see you too," Kate said.

  "Let's go sit in the study," Rebecca suggested. "I've had a few things I wanted to discuss with you."

  "We're not getting married and having babies," I said. "Just so you know."

  "Please," Rebecca sniffed. As if I were crazy to think that was her intent.

  A few minutes later, I closed the doors to the study behind us, and the noise of the party set-up disappeared in an instant. It was the three of us in the gloom as Rebecca switched on the desk lamp, then sat primly in one of the wing chairs in front of the cold fireplace.

  "I need to tell you a story, Rob," she said.

  I sighed. "Now? You need to tell me a story now? There's a lot going on these days..."

  "Yes, from my son lying in a coma to you throwing a party for kittens," Rebecca said. "It is a bizarre and interesting world, isn't it? Now sit down and be quiet for once."

  I leaned against the edge of the mantle, crossing my arms over my chest. Kate took a seat at the desk. She drew a book from a shelf and began to thumb through it, as if she were trying to maintain a polite distance from our family drama. Even though Rebecca had, for some reason, felt the need to draw her into it.

  "I know what you think about your father," Rebecca said. "And it has devastated me for all these years to watch you be so disrespectful to the man who raised you, who adores you."

  I started to stand to my full height, and my tiny little grandmother pointed her finger at me. "No, Rob. This is my time to speak. I've been quiet all this time."

  I had never known her to be particularly retiring, but I raised my eyebrows and let her go on.

  "I don't know everything that happened the night of the wreck," she said. "He would never tell me. But I think that what's happening now goes back to that night. You need to know."

  "I do know. I've read all the newspaper pieces about it, believe me." I'd tormented myself with them.

  "No, you don't." She squared her shoulders. "Whatever happened, you need to know that I saw him that night. I saw him half an hour after he supposedly wrecked that car with a blood alcohol content of .12. And he was stone-cold sober."

  "Maybe because he had almost killed someone--"

  "That's not how sobering-up works and you know it," she said. "Something else happened that night. Your father was covering for someone."

  "You've believed that for the last ten years, he lived in disgrace and you never asked him why?"

  "He told me if I kept asking, he would cut me out of your life. All of your lives."

  "Why?"

  "That's what you need to figure out. To figure out why someone hurt my beautiful boy." She pointed that angry finger at me again. "But most of all, you need to understand that he isn't the monster you believe he is. I can't believe that he might..." she stumbled over the word. "He might not wake up, Rob. And then what?"

  Kate rose abruptly from the chair in the table to wrap her arms around Rebecca's shoulders. As Rebecca folded up inside her arms, beginning to cry, I thought that if I were nice, I would be the one hugging her.

  But I couldn't believe it. Couldn't process what she was saying. Couldn't trust the way I wanted to believe it.

  "Why's Kate here?" I asked, my voice abrupt.

  Rebecca wiped her eyes with a tissue. "I knew you might not believe me. But Kate was here that night. She saw him too."

  Kate looked up at me, her eyes warm with compassion. "I did, Rob. And she's right. There's no way he was drunk. He was shaken by what had happened, upset. He was on the verge of tears. But he was totally lucid, coordinated, together."

  "My father could handle his booze."

  "I know your family,"
Kate said. "I've seen our fathers drink together. I know what a drink too many on a Delaney looks like, and this wasn't it."

  "Why didn't you ever tell me?" I demanded.

  "He asked me not to," Kate said. "Later. He asked us both. To forget seeing him that night. To let it go."

  "And you didn't think that was strange? Worth telling me about?"

  Kate glanced down at the floor. "It wasn't an easy decision, Rob. He said it would protect you."

  "Well, you were either lying to me then or you're lying to me now."

  "I wasn't lying, ever. I wouldn't lie to you."

  "It was a lie of omission if you didn't tell me then."

  "Oh, Rob." There was a familiar fire in her deep brown eyes. "Don't be pedantic. I was trying to protect you. Things were so hard then for your family."

  "Yeah. Yeah, they were." I glanced away, although the brown-and-gold spines of my father's library seemed distant. "Why were you here that night, anyway?"

  "I'm going to go supervise," Rebecca said, standing from the chair. She wiped her eyes one last time with a tissue.

  "Okay," I said, and let her go. Rebecca shut the door softly behind her, doubtless headed upstairs to reapply her lipstick. To wipe away any evidence of weakness like any Delaney would.

  "Do you believe me?" Kate asked.

  "I don't understand this."

  She met my gaze for a few long seconds before she looked away. "That's not what I asked."

  "Tell me about that night," I said, because I didn't want to answer her question. "Start with why you were here."

  "So I'm one of your oldest friends and I have to prove that what I'm saying to you is true?"

  "Yes," I said crisply.

  She shook her head, a disbelieving smile on her perfect red lips. "All right, Rob. Well, I don't know if you remember the details of that month. We were off-again, in the endless rounds of Rob-and-Kate. And I couldn't stand it."

  It looked like it hurt Kate to admit all that, but she was composed anyway. “I had been out with Mary Beth and her boyfriend and watching them together made me keep thinking about us. I felt lonely for you. I was driving my Jetta home and I ended up here."