Cravings of the Heart (Trials of Fear Book 5)

by Nicky James

  Good point.

  “Don’t want to cause a scene if I can help it.” I straightened my jacket and peered up and down the quiet street. “Did you drive here?”

  “Nah. Got a ride with Bryn.”

  “Okay, well, I guess I’m gonna duck out and head over to the hall. I’ll snag Carrie and Phoenix later when no one is around to wish them well. Thanks for the rescue. I’ll see you there.”

  Before I made three steps, Arden’s words stopped me. “Can I ride with you?”

  I turned back and found all his attention on me. The lick of fire behind his eyes had returned. The mischievous spark once again lit up his face. The not-quite-there smile quirked one corner of his mouth as he waited for me to respond.

  My heart skipped, and I felt the current of lust from my head to my toes. That look he gave bordered on flirty, and Phoenix’s warnings replayed in my head along with his reluctant revelation about Arden’s ten-year-old crush.

  Was that why I couldn’t stop noticing him? Because I knew of his crush?

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Has nothing to do with the fact that he has a delicate, angelic beauty you can’t look away from.

  I should have said no.

  Except, I couldn’t come up with a solid reason why. “Sure, but won’t your sister—”

  “I’ll text her. It’s not a big deal.”

  He shifted past me, brushing my shoulder as he went, and strolled toward the parking lot, head high and hands shoved deep in his pockets. Unintentionally—and unfortunately—my gaze slipped lower and noted the bubbled roundness of his ass where it sat snug in his fitted slacks. At that exact moment, Arden glanced over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed mischievously. Heat simmered blue flames behind his eyes as our gazes caught.

  “You coming?”

  Where the hell was the kid I’d known growing up, and who was this man of many masks? I couldn’t read or understand him. He was bitter and angry one minute and flirty the next. Yet once again, I was drawn to follow him without question. A frightening thought occurred to me. I had no doubt, if Arden asked, I’d follow him to the ends of the earth.

  The car ride was silent. Arden spent most of it on his phone texting, but more than once, I sensed the heat of his gaze. The knowledge I carried about his long-ago crush, and the inexplicable things happening to my insides made my hands sweat. I didn’t know what to say, so I drove.

  We arrived at the hall early and waited in the car for more people to show up before venturing inside.

  In a crowd of over two hundred guests, it was easy to blend. Easy to avoid people who might recognize me and have something awful to say. Arden and I ended up going our separate ways when a few of his cousins stole him away. Convincing myself it was for the best, I claimed a corner table by the doors and nursed a few drinks while the wedding party took their time arriving from their photoshoot. Once the bride and groom arrived, toasts were made, speeches were given, and dinner was announced. Thankfully, the heads of the McMillan clan remained oblivious to my presence.

  I scanned the bustling, noisy crowd for Arden, assuming he’d sit with the rest of his family, but he was nowhere to be seen. His countless brothers and sisters all had their own table, but the seat that must have belonged to him remained empty.

  My table quickly filled with strangers, and I smiled warmly, making vague introductions but mostly kept to myself.

  As the catering service came out to distribute meals, I caught sight of Arden at the bar, accepting a drink from the elderly bartender. Arden sniffed the contents of his red plastic cup more than once before he sipped a tiny bit off the top. Whatever he ordered made him wince. He tipped his head in thanks to the older man as he strutted away, subtly scanning the room.

  When I expected him to find his seat for the meal, he slinked toward the back, emergency exit instead and slipped outside.

  With a half an eye on the steel door as I ate my chicken cordon bleu, I waited for Arden to return. Not one of his siblings seemed to notice or care that he was gone. Laughter and loud chatter filled the air, but not a single soul showed concern.

  Phoenix, understandably, laughed and shared his meal on the dais with the rest of the wedding party, toasting and talking loudly. His parents held conversations with their nearby guests, smiles filling their faces.

  The meal continued, and Arden didn’t return.

  Once I cleared my plate, I excused myself and wandered toward the bar.

  “What can I get ya, son?” the suited gentleman asked with a wide grin.

  “Rye and ginger, please.”

  “Comin’ up.”

  He busied himself mixing my drink with practiced skill.

  “Any chance you remember what the young man with the slicked-back blond hair and the frilly shirt was drinking?”

  The bartender laughed. “The flashy kid in blue? Yeah. Double vodka. Straight up. No ice.”

  “Really? Ouch. Okay. One of those, too, I guess. Thanks.”

  With two red plastic cups in hand, I scanned the hall, noting the catering staff clearing the dinner plates and the DJ fiddling with his equipment in the corner. Things would shift into celebration mode soon with dancing and loud music.

  I made my way to the same steel emergency door at the back of the room and used my hip to pop it open. Silently, I slipped outside, letting it close behind me with a bang.

  I found myself in the parking lot behind the hall. The sun had recently set, but the sky was still indigo on the horizon. There were a few parking lot lights reflecting off the vehicles, and a small group of smokers stood in a circle nearby, but I didn’t see Arden anywhere.

  I walked the length of the building, scanning and wondering if he’d ditched on his brother’s wedding altogether when I caught sight of him sitting on the hood of my car a few rows away.

  And he watched me with that same hint of mischief like he’d been waiting for me to show up this whole time.

  I tipped my head to the side in question as I weaved through the parked cars.

  “About time you came looking for me?” he said, throwing his head back and draining his cup. He sucked air between his teeth and blew out a breath as his face soured. “Nasty shit. Is that for me?” He nodded at the cups in my hand.

  “Straight vodka? Are you insane?”

  “Are you at the same wedding as me?”

  I handed him the drink I’d ordered and used the car’s bumper to hitch myself up so I could sit beside him.

  “You missed dinner.”

  He shrugged and sniffed the contents of the cup I’d given him. “Wasn’t hungry.” He sniffed again then dipped a single finger inside the fluid and touched it to the tip of his tongue.

  “Did the bartender screw up?”

  “Straight vodka, right?”

  “Yup.”

  Arden shook his head then set the glass on the hood beside him. “It’s right. Thank you.”

  Music burst to life from inside the building. An edgy, fun pop song I recognized. It was muffled and distant, not clear enough to make out the song or lyrics, but was a sure sign the dancing had begun.

  “So did you plan to hide out here all night?” I asked.

  Arden watched the group of smokers as they retreated inside, his gaze far away as he shrugged. “I promised my parents not to make a scene. Apparently I failed the minute I got dressed today. Mom can’t stop turning her nose at my choice of clothing, so I thought it best I take my gay ass outside and stop offending her.”

  Again, I admired his velour dinner jacket with the fine stitching and onyx buttons. He’d opened the front, and his expressive, flared blouse was on full display. A chunk of his gel-swept hair had fallen out of place and hung in his eyes.

  “She didn’t approve?”

  “Anything eccentric is just me trying to rebel. No one seems to take into account that I am studying fashion design and might simply like a splash of excitement in my wardrobe from time to time.”

  “Well… I think you look good. It suits y
ou, so fuck ‘em.”

  He studied his outfit. “You think?”

  “You look amazing.”

  He turned his face from my view, but I caught the tail end of a smile and a hint of a blush. “Thanks. You look good too. Different. Older. Fuck… don’t listen to me.”

  I chuckled and ducked my head.

  “Thanks. So, do you have big plans for when you’re finished school? Was this your last year? The term’s done now, isn’t it?”

  “It’s done. Wrote exams last week. I have one more year,” he said, picking up his drink again and swirling the liquid before sipping. “I want to design my own line of wedding apparel someday. Make my own label. Own my own wedding store. Get out of this fucking town. Maybe go to LA where people appreciate my vision.”

  “Really?” I studied his profile. There was a whole mixture of unspoken emotion in his statement. Hostility, passion, pain, hope. I couldn’t filter through it all to know what I was supposed to take from it, but I respected his plan and determination—even if it was laced with annoyance.

  Arden tipped his head to the side and examined me with a critical, defensive eye. “Do you think it’s a joke too? Fashion design. Too stereotypical for a gay man?”

  “What? No, not at all. Why would you say that?”

  Arden sipped his vodka again, his gaze shifting across the parking lot. But I knew why he’d think that. Knowing his family, I bet not a single person supported his interests but each judged his decisions.

  He didn’t speak, so I bumped his shoulder good-naturedly, pulling his focus back. “Is that why you were so opinionated over Carrie’s wedding dress?”

  “They didn’t even ask me. I work at Ever After. I do dress alterations and have dozens of sketchbooks full of designs I hope to someday create. I eat, sleep, breathe this shit. I know what I’m doing. But they went to our competitor instead of asking the gay boy for advice because Jesus wouldn’t like that. It stung.”

  “I bet. For the record, Jesus doesn’t give a flying fuck if your gay or not. I give you credit for following your dream even when it causes discord with your family.”

  He laughed, but it was more of a sad huff of expelled air. We didn’t speak for a long time, both absorbed in our own thoughts as we drank and listened to the discordant joy of the wedding inside.

  The day had been warm, but with the encroaching night, there was a slight nip in the air every time the wind blew. Arden shivered and curled his body tighter in on itself, pulling his knees up and wrapping an arm around them.

  “You cold?” I asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re shivering.”

  “I’m fine. I’m always cold. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Well, you weigh all of ninety pounds soaking wet. I’m not surprised.”

  It was meant as a good-humored joke at his size, but he pressed his lips together and frowned before mumbling, “One oh two. Give me some fucking credit.”

  “One oh two! My bad. No wonder you’re cold.” I chuckled, but Arden didn’t seem to see the humor so it choked and died in my throat.

  Because it seemed the right thing to do—or at least that was my excuse—I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him against me, sharing my body heat. His tantalizing lavender scent followed and weaved all around me, sinking into my pores and bleeding through my veins. It took all my willpower not to lean over and bury my face in his hair.

  For a moment, Arden’s body stiffened, and his breathing hitched. Then, as though it was the most normal course of events, he sank against my body, allowing the hold.

  And it really did feel natural and right.

  “So,” he said, gazing at the sky and the hints of stars that were slowly making their appearance. “Ten years. I thought you and Phoenix had a falling out. How’s life treated you? What’s Iggy been up to?”

  I considered as I sipped my drink and followed his gaze. “Life’s been up and down. Mom’s not well. Dad left. My boyfriend of four years fucked off with another guy after admitting he’d been cheating on me for over three months, and I work too much. But I like my job, so it’s kinda been my salvation from all the shit. I volunteer at a soup kitchen for the homeless and low-income families sometimes, work out when I can, run in the morning. I don’t know.” I chuckled. “You?”

  Arden turned, his face frighteningly close, his eyes a shade wider than they were before. “Jeez, is that all?”

  “Ten years is a long time.” I broke eye contact and swallowed the nerves climbing my throat. “Life’s not the party we think it’s gonna be when we’re teenagers.”

  “Ain’t that the truth. Your mom isn’t doing well?”

  “She’s healthy enough. Completely blind now. Very hard of hearing, but she’s a trooper.”

  “And your dad left? That’s really shitty.”

  “Couldn’t handle it anymore. Said he was too young to be bogged down with that kind of responsibility—which is bullshit because Mom does just fine on her own. She needs help outside the house, but she’s fiercely independent otherwise. Anyhow, Dad went on a business trip a few years ago and never came home.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s life. She has me. Not sure I can forgive my dad. He lost my respect.”

  We drank in silence, Arden snuggled close, his shivers less intense. Another group of smokers emerged from inside. The swell of music pierced the quiet night before the door slammed again. Based on the amount of excitement bleeding out from inside, the celebration was in full swing, and people were more and more intoxicated.

  The smokers huddled by the door, chatting and laughing. Arden and I watched them, neither of us moving or speaking as we blended into the shadows.

  When the group returned inside, Arden spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath fanning the underside of my chin. “Do you like your job?”

  “I do. A lot. I’m a first responder, how can I not? I save lives. I make a difference. It feels good. No one judges you when they rely on you for survival.”

  “Guess not.”

  He traced a finger over the lip of his cup, staring at the contents, his mind far away. With the sudden quiet, I could hear my heart pulsing in my ears. There was no ignoring how close we were. Every place we touched burned hotter and stirred something to life in my belly.

  But he’s a McMillan! Don’t do this to yourself. And Phoenix warned you…

  No matter how hard I looked, though, I didn’t see the bratty kid Phoenix talked about. The manipulative, self-serving irritant he claimed was his brother. There had been flashes of resentment and quips to that effect, but I sympathized with Arden’s position. His sharp edge and thick protective walls made sense.

  “How’s your drink?” he asked, cutting into my thoughts.

  I tipped my cup to my mouth, emptying it. “Gone.”

  Worming from under my arm, Arden jumped down off the car and removed the empty cup from my hand. Instantly, I missed our connection.

  “I’ll be back. What are you drinking?” he asked.

  “Rye and ginger.”

  “On it!”

  Before Arden could shoot off toward the door, he wobbled and nearly tripped over his feet. Panic crossed his face as his hand darted up, grappling for the edge of the car. I snagged his arm without thinking while he righted himself.

  Cheeks flaming, he huffed a non-laugh, shrugging out of my hold. “I’m fine. Stood up too fast.”

  Before I could suggest something to eat to dampen the straight alcohol he was dumping into his system, he spun and strutted toward the door. A mild stagger was the only indication he was feeling the drink at all. “Be back,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Was it strange that I didn’t want to go anywhere? Not even inside to join the festivities?

  Arden returned a few minutes later, and instead of joining me on the hood of the car, he handed me my drink and stayed on the ground, rocking side to side as he sipped his new cup of vodka. I adam
antly refused to be disappointed at our lost connection.

  “Tell me some rescue stories. You must see a lot of nasty stuff in your line of work.”

  I chuckled and considered. “Most people beg me to keep my mouth shut.”

  “Okay, don’t get too gory, but what’s one of the more cringe-worthy things you’ve seen recently?”

  Rifling through my database of calls, I shook my head. “I don’t know. Car accidents are normally the worst. Sometimes an at-home accident. We get a lot of health conditions. Heart attacks, strokes, seizures, that kind of thing.”

  “So you have nothing fun to share.”

  “My job isn’t fun, Arden. It’s people’s lives.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re a real-life hero. I’m just curious.”

  “Okay. I’ll make you a deal.” His rocking stilled as he waited, his eyes glinting with hints of that mischief I was coming to enjoy.

  “What deal?”

  I smiled and nudged his thigh with a foot. “I’ll give you a story, you tell me about your passion for design.”

  I wanted to see those hints of intrigue and joy again. They’d sparked to life when he’d examined Carrie’s wedding gown and shared his opinion of what he’d have done differently had anyone asked. There was passion hidden inside him. Maybe if I got him talking, I’d see a real smile bloom across his face—because I had yet to catch one he didn’t attempt to hide. All I’d seen were traces, hints of carefully contained pleasure, and I didn’t know why he was so reserved.

  “Do we have a deal?”

  He tipped his head to the side and studied my face. “You won’t mock me?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Okay. Deal.”

  For the following hour, we talked. Mindful of keeping confidentiality, I shared bits about a rescue operation I was part of back in April when we’d been called out to save a guy who’d been pinned under a support beam in his basement when a tree fell on his house during a nasty storm.

  Arden went into great detail about his vision for a design studio he wanted to open someday and explained about an upcoming show he couldn’t wait to be a part of.