Keep Me Wanting

by Angela Addams

  His lips quirk again, and I realize that’s his version of a smile. “I get it, moms can be demanding.” He shrugs. “Sure, it caught me off guard at first. But I guess people do this kind of thing every day.”

  I widen my eyes. “You think people ask other people to be a fake partner often?”

  He hands me the plate, moving to close the distance between us. “No,” he says, his voice gruff, his eyes locked on mine.

  I put my wineglass down and lift a hand to accept the plate. My body is vibrating. He’s so close. I’m eye level with his neck, so I have to look up at him, and the dynamic of that makes me feel small, delicate almost. I like it.

  “I think people help one another out when they need it.”

  He reaches his hand out, like he’s about to put his hand on my waist, his eyes are locked on mine, and I feel this zing of chemistry that I’m sure he’s feeling, too. Until he blinks then drops his hand and takes a step back.

  “You did help me out.” I want him to touch me so badly. My body is shaking from all the pent-up lust. I put my plate on the table so I don’t drop it. “Thank you.” I bite my bottom lip. I feel giddy and reckless. I feel like I want to jump on this man and rub myself all over him.

  Something flickers in his eyes. He nods, moves closer again, puts his hand on my jaw, cupping so that he can brush his thumb over my bottom lip, dislodging it from my teeth. “I like it when you do that.”

  I like it when you do that. His voice rolls down my spine. His body is so close, our chests brush as we breathe in one another’s scent. My pussy quivers. I’m soaking my panties something fierce. His nostrils flare, and he gets this look on his face that’s hard to read, like he’s holding himself back. Kiss me already!

  “Your stomach is growling.”

  I frown up at him. My eyesight is hazy, my brain fuzzy. “Hmmm?”

  “Let’s get some food into you. You’re obviously starving.”

  I can hardly process what he’s saying. He takes a step back, and I lose that body heat of his. He wants food? How can he think of food at a time like this?

  He motions to the stool next to the island where my plate is. “Go ahead, eat before it gets cold.”

  “You want to eat?” I swear my brain has short-circuited. My nerves are buzzing, and I can’t make sense of how food could possibly compare to the possibility of that kiss or where that kiss could go.

  He picks up a fork and offers me some tandoori. I open my mouth, letting him slide the food in. Oh hell yes, just the right balance of spicy heat that makes my whole mouth happy. It’s so good. My stomach yowls again, impatient for me to chew. When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me with an answering hunger in his eyes.

  “You’re hungry. Eat.” He motions with his fork toward my plate. “Then we need to talk.”

  His tone is…blank. That’s the best word I’ve got for it. I chew quickly, because that doesn’t sound ominous at all.

  Chapter Four

  Liam

  The whole situation isn’t sitting right. Especially since I’ve been fighting getting her naked and under me since she opened the door in that damn towel. I should tell her who I am and let her decide if she wants anything to do with me. She deserves the truth. But I can’t give it to her, not completely anyway. Why? Because I need her to invite me to that reunion.

  There’s no way in Hell I’m letting Shawn send one of his goons, even if it’s my own cousin. I know she didn’t intend for me to actually come with her, but it’s about protecting her and giving me some peace of mind.

  I turn to load up my own plate. The shitty thing is I have to tell her something, but there’s nothing in the truth that’ll keep her safely outside my world. Maggie is different from all the women I’ve known before. She has no hidden agenda other than pretending to be my girlfriend for her family, and she wears her feelings on her sleeve. When she’s embarrassed, she blushes. When she’s excited, her body vibrates. I want to sit with her, talk to her, touch her, and yeah, I want to fuck her because she’s just too sweet to pass up.

  She’s everything I can never have. And damn it all, I’ll fight to the death to keep a girl like her safe. That I’m even thinking like this should freak me the fuck out, but with Maggie, it doesn’t. That’s…concerning.

  I suck in a breath and pull myself together. Lying to her is going to gut me, and denying myself the very thing I want the most—her and her luscious body—makes me want to punch a hole in the wall. I don’t deserve her. And she sure as fuck deserves better than an ex-con with absolutely nothing to offer her.

  “So…” Maggie is still eating, her mouth full as she wipes away some sauce with a napkin. Her eyes are wide, almost unblinking. “What do you want to talk about?”

  I take a few mouthfuls for myself, buying some time before I have to speak. “You don’t really know anything about me. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  She shrugs. “I mean, I know some things. I know you like coffee and you can read.”

  That draws a smile out of me. “You just described at least 90 percent of Boston.”

  She laughs, and I fork more food into my mouth. Damn, this stuff is good. Being in prison meant standard bland but relatively nutritious meals, three times a day. I ordered way more than we’ll be able to eat, but it’s hard not to when you’ve gone four years without much food diversity. I missed having something with mouth-exploding flavor, so part of my sudden shoveling of food is because it tastes so damn good, and part of it is because I really don’t want our easy conversation to end.

  “I know you’re sexy and kind.” She points her fork at me. “And you’re a really fantastic kisser.”

  “Oh yeah?” I chuckle. “So are you.”

  She blushes, ducks her head, and keeps her mouth busy eating more of her food.

  See? Sweet as hell. I should get out of her life before I ruin her.

  But then I think about Shawn, which makes me think of our cousin, who would absolutely enjoy his time “watching” a girl like Maggie.

  Over my dead fucking body.

  I let the silence hang for a minute. “That’s not a lot of information, really.”

  “Hey, wait a minute.” She scans her apartment, making a big show of it, too. “Are you setting me up for some kind of hidden camera thing? Like a public service announcement about letting five-minute boyfriends into your apartment when you’re living alone? Did my mother put you up to this?”

  “No, nothing like that,” I say. “No hidden cameras.”

  “Whew, okay then. So what else do I know about you?” She taps her lips with her fork. “You told my mother that you’re a broker. Obviously you’re a successful one, because your suits look tailored and you tip ridiculously generous.”

  “You’re observant.” I poke at my food and stifle another smile. Is it possible she’s been watching me like I’ve been watching her? The idea of that makes my stomach do some crazy shit that I can’t quite get a handle on, and I’m worried that I’m going to blurt something out that I shouldn’t, so I grab onto the first thing that comes into my head. “So why fake a boyfriend? Seems strange that a girl like you doesn’t have a real boyfriend to take to the reunion.”

  Her expression changes. I sense a mood shift. “Ah, well, that’s the million dollar question.” She forces a laugh. “I need to keep my mother off my back and show my family that I have something going for me.” She winces. “Things haven’t exactly been working out the way I thought they would. I keep looking for the right job while trying to keep up with my bills and loans and everything else. I don’t have time to date. I don’t have time to find some perfect guy to bring home to show off. My mom backed me into a corner, demanding to know if I was dating anyone, probably because she was hatching yet another attempt to set me up with some lawyer or something. You popped into my head, so I described this guy, Liam, who I’d been seeing for a while, and fo
r the first time in forever, my mom looked…happy with me. So the lie just kept going and now…”

  She chews on her bottom lip for a minute, seemingly searching for the right words. “It felt nice, for once, to have someone to brag about, to pretend I’d get to show off.”

  I’m kind of shocked that she’d think of me like that. The idea of being the kind of guy to show off is something so foreign to me that I laugh.

  She winces, and I realize she thinks I’m laughing at her. I also realize that she’s never going to come right out and ask me to that reunion for real, not because she doesn’t want to but because she doesn’t even consider it a possibility that I’ll say yes.

  “I mean, I’ll still have to deal with the fallout of that lie,” she hurries to say, “but at least I had a moment or two of not worrying about my mother’s judgment and being looked at like a giant loser to pity.”

  “Who in the world would look at you with pity?” I lean forward. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about it, and I wonder if we should just do it.”

  Her eyes go wide. “Do…it?”

  I like where I think her mind is going, but I have to keep us on course here. “Maybe I should come with you to the reunion. We can show them all where to shove their pity.”

  Her mouth drops open. “You’re kidding?”

  “Not kidding.” I put my fork down. “But there’s something you need to know about me first.”

  “Let me guess. You have some dark and dangerous secrets?”

  She’s laughing when she says it, but her question makes my heart thud. “My family isn’t the kind of family that does things…the right way. The law-abiding way.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Are you some kind of criminal?”

  “No, I’m not.” Not technically, anyway. “I have done time, though. To protect my brother.”

  She frowns. “You went to jail for your brother? Are you serious? What kind of brother would let his family go to jail for him?”

  That’s what she’s concerned about? This girl, I swear. “Mine, I guess,” I grumble. Her dad might have some words to say; he might even throw me out of the reunion point blank. Or he might play it cool, not make a scene, and let it ride, which is more in line with his style anyway. I’m hoping he’ll tolerate me long enough to keep his daughter safe.

  She takes a moment to think. The silence hangs, and I kind of want to crack open her head to see what’s happening up there.

  “Well, it doesn’t change my opinion of you. I mean, obviously you’re selfless. You clearly like helping people. You didn’t have to come back to meet my mom. You didn’t have to bring food here. And now you’re willing to hang out with my family for the weekend so that I look cool?” She rolls her eyes. “No one needs to know about your past.”

  She’s smiling again, and I feel heat explode in my chest. It’s that feeling I sometimes get when I know I’m doing the right thing. And what I’m doing is right. I’ll make sure she has a good weekend, saves face with her family, and is safe from mine all at the same time.

  “I didn’t want to move forward with this until you knew where I came from.”

  Maggie sighs as she puts her fork down next to her plate, her tone suddenly serious. “I’m not going to get killed because you come to my family reunion, right? Like, there won’t be some bad guy looking to get revenge or whatever?”

  Just your dad. “No.” If the detective has a problem, he can take it up with me. Danger won’t get within a mile of Maggie. I’ll make sure of it. We’ll be as far removed from the shitshow that Shawn has planned as possible, and since I’m the one keeping tabs on the Chandlers, my brothers will be none the wiser about Maggie’s connection.

  “Okay, then I don’t care.” She’s smiling again. “Everything you’ve told me just confirms what I already believed anyway.”

  I have no idea when someone believed in me last, and I gotta admit, her faith—no matter how misplaced—feels good. “So we have a deal then?” I ask. “I’ll be your date for the reunion?”

  “Wow. Of all the ways I thought tonight would go.” She shakes her head and laughs. “Yes, I’d love for you to be my date for the reunion.” She pauses, her eyes going wide. “I’m not using you, though. I mean, if we do this, we’ll both get something out of it, right? A nice relaxing weekend for you, maybe?”

  “I could use one of those.”

  She beams. “Great. And I’ll get some serious satisfaction when I see how jealous my sisters are when they meet you. Hell, I’d be satisfied just knowing my mother can’t make any catty remarks about poor, lonely Maggie. You don’t mind being eye candy for a few days, right?”

  “Eye candy?” I bark a laugh. I move around the island so I’m standing next to her, looking down at her big green eyes. I see how much she needs this. It’s not in her words, not really. It’s in her eyes. She’s been hurt in the past. Her mother’s standards have pushed her to this point. She needs this weekend to be great, and that heat I feel in my gut rises to my heart, and I know for sure that I’m making the right decision.

  She bites her lip in that sexy way of hers, and I lean forward so I can trail my fingers along the column of her throat, all the while mentally screaming at myself to stop.

  Keep your hands off her, Doyle!

  But I can’t help myself. “Maggie?” I whisper as I lean closer.

  Her breath hitches. “Yeah?”

  “I think this is going to be a fantastic weekend. For both of us.”

  …

  Once we’re done eating, Maggie and I pack up the food. I grab a towel to dry the dishes she’s washing. “What time is departure tomorrow?”

  She raises an eyebrow. “You’re seriously serious about coming? I thought for sure you’d change your mind by the end of dinner.”

  “I didn’t change my mind.”

  “Okay, then. My sister is coming pretty early. I think she expects to be on the road by eight. Lunch is at noon, and it’ll take us a bit to drive to the resort.” She glances up at me. “Too early for you?”

  “Nah, I’m used to early wake ups.” I take the plate she hands me and dry it before shifting it onto the small pile of similar plates on the shelf. “What are your sisters like?”

  “Well, they’re essentially clones of one another.” She pauses like she’s fallen into some memory or another, a wisp of a smile on her face, there and gone in a heartbeat. “My parents had me later in life. My sisters are older, a lot older, and way more accomplished.” She finishes washing the last of the utensils and hands them to me. “They’re both lawyers, successful, married.”

  I put the utensils away. I knew all of that from Ronan’s file, but that’s not what I’m after. “What were they like as kids?”

  She blinks. “As kids?”

  “Yeah, the best times I had with my brothers was before being an adult got in the way.” I pour us more wine and carry the glasses to her couch.

  “That’s so true, right? My sisters and I used to get into so much trouble when we were younger. I mean, I was the baby and idolized them both for a while, so I’d do just about anything to make them happy.” She settles on the couch, not too close to me, but not at the opposite end, either, and curls one leg under her. “Amelia is the oldest, and then Charlotte. Charlotte was always fearless, and Amelia was the mastermind of all the great ideas. Together they could accomplish anything. Amelia went through this physics phase where she wanted to test out every theory she had by putting me at the center of her experiments. Charlotte would supervise, of course, always there to make sure I didn’t get hurt.”

  Her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed as she’s telling this story, so I know that even if her relationship with her sisters is strained now, it wasn’t always that way.

  “I’m guessing things often didn’t go as planned?”

  She nods before taking another sip of her wine. “Well, no,
not as planned, but not complete failures, either. There was one time Amelia dared me to sneak one of Mom’s bras so we could use it as a slingshot for my dolls. She wanted to test the theory of gravity against, well, shit, I don’t actually remember what she was trying to do.” She shrugs. “It totally made sense at the time, though.”

  I chuckle. “Did it work? Whatever she was testing?”

  “Not really, but what was worse was that she had me hang the bra from a low branch of one of the trees in our front yard so we could leverage it. So there I am, trying to slingshot my dolls, yanking as hard as I can on Mom’s bra, and our neighbors had to all be wondering what in the hell we were up to. Amelia and Charlotte were yelling and cheering, getting me to pull and pull so we could send the doll as high as possible. And then Mom caught wind of what we had going on and came storming out of the house yelling about taking one of her good bras for games. And right at that moment, the bra snapped, and the doll went flying backward, hitting the front window of the house and shattering it completely.”

  I can’t help but snort. “Shit, was your mom pissed?”

  “Not as pissed as my dad was.” She grins. “Amelia somehow convinced both of them that it was all my idea, so I had to pay for the window out of my allowance.”

  “Well, that’s kind of shitty of her.”

  “She didn’t want her experiments to end. She had a lot still left to test.” She shrugs. “It was important to her, and it made her happy. Besides, I would have done anything to play with them, so I guess I figured it was worth it.”

  “It’s funny what we’ll do for our siblings.” My childhood wasn’t all fun and games, and we didn’t have a ton of money when we first moved to Boston. Mom and Dad were both working a couple of jobs to make ends meet, which left me and my brothers to fend for ourselves a lot. “My brothers and I had it in our heads that we would open up a fine dining restaurant some day. We were convinced that we were so good at cooking that everyone would come to eat our food.”

  “How many brothers do you have?” She leans closer, shifting her body so that our knees are almost touching.