Tangling Hearts (Hearts Series Book 3)

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Tangling Hearts (Hearts Series Book 3) Page 2

by Faleena Hopkins


  “I want to see you again,” he whispers against my lips.

  “I’d love that,” I say, not sure if it’s a lie.

  “Yeah?” He searches my eyes, wanting to believe me.

  I nod and press my lips to his. “You know what I’d love? I’d love to come back here for a weekend with just you and me. When you don’t have to rush off. Let’s plan it.”

  Hook line and sinker, he believes me. “Done. And maybe I can come visit you in Arizona.”

  My smile spreads into a sexy, happy grin. “Really? You’d like to?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  He kisses me, our tongues dance around, but I feel nothing because my mind is on telling Brendan the truth about little miss bright-eyes.

  He puts on his shoes and gathers his things. “I’ll call you over the next couple of days and we’ll set it up.”

  “Thank you so much for coming over, Tommy.”

  “It was the only place I wanted to be. Talk soon.”

  “Bye.” I close the door and lock it, resting against it as I smile.

  She’s been lying to Brendan. And we all know how much he loves that. She’s toast. Finally, I have the answer.

  Heart racing with excitement, I make a beeline for my luggage to get dressed.

  Chapter Four

  Annie

  Every Door: opened for me. Except for my car, but he’s wounded, come on.

  “Oh man, it’s so good to be home,” Brendan says on a long exhale as he locks the door behind us. We walk from the hallway into the main room of the penthouse, with me in front.

  I stop walking. Stunned. “Wow. When’s Donald coming home?”

  Brendan eyes me, confused. “Donald?”

  “Trump.”

  He laughs and lays his hand on my lower back to give me a little push in. There’s a winding staircase going up to an unexpected second floor, in front of us. Right behind it, on the first floor, is a dining room table and before that, a curved, L-shaped couch on a gorgeous rug that must have cost a thousand dollars. I close my hanging mouth and walk to the couch, lowering myself, as my head swings left to right, taking in the masculine opulence. Hardwood Floors. Taupe walls. Simplicity in décor. Art-deco style lamps. The art is minimal and there’s a mirror on the floor, propped against a wall in front of the couch, beside a huge flat-screen television.

  He plops the bag of take-out on the coffee table next to a Wired Magazine and calls back to Mark. “Yeah! It’s me. Annie’s here, too.”

  Mark pokes his head over the upstairs railing. “Hey Annie.”

  “Hi.” I wave, pretty much speechless.

  Mark looks to his roommate. “They let you out early… I take it that’s a good sign.”

  Brendan stands, looking up at his best friend. “Yeah. They gave me an M.R.I. and we had to wait for the results. Looks good. The doc said I’d heal better at home.” He walks to the kitchen as Mark’s head disappears. I’m guessing he went back to his room, but it’s interesting to me; that was all the conversation they needed to exchange. Men… I love ‘em.

  Bouncing on the couch to enjoy the firmness and quality of the material, I look over my shoulder to see Brendan, but he’s out of eye-line. So I wait, having a hard time believing I’m here, and when he comes back into the room two minutes later, he’s carrying two bottles of Guinness in his left hand, I still don’t believe it.

  We smile at each other and I open the bag. “I thought you were getting us plates. I’m glad you didn’t.”

  He lays the stouts on the table and sits down beside me, watching as I spread out the food. “I figured since you like burgers over steak, you probably wanted to eat them in the box they came in. But I got the Irish girl her home brew. That was a must.”

  “Indeed.” I lean over and kiss him before we chow down, each of us closing our eyes on the first bite of yummy. “Mmmm.”

  “So good, right?" He picks a fallen sautéed mushroom off the table and tosses it into his mouth. “This is so much better than the hospital food!”

  “Night and day,” I say, with my mouth full of bacon cheeseburger as I reach for a French fry. “This is a beautiful home.”

  He glances to me, his mouth stuffed, too. He looks around. “You like it?”

  Chewing, I nod and hold my index finger and thumb up with a small space between them, indicating, a little bit.

  He swallows, his eyes dancing as he says, “I made such a show of why you should come home with me, wouldn’t it have been hilarious if it was a dump?”

  Covering my mouth with my free hand, the other holding a dripping burger, I laugh, nodding. He moves a long lock of hair away from my eyes, putting it behind my ear. I stay still, watching him as he concentrates on getting it right. He meets my eyes and we look at each other, quiet. I look away first and pick up my beer, swallowing before I look over to him again. I know he didn’t move, that he’s still staring at me, but when I meet his dark, blue eyes again, my heart swims in my chest anyway. There’s a depth to his look that is far-reaching. A stillness to his body that is locked in, like he’s really present. I wish I could ask him what I think is happening: are you falling in love with me, too? But I can’t ask, so I reach up to his cheek… and just as I’m about to touch it, the phone beeps in his jacket. I pull my hand back to pick up another fry, trying not to worry if it’s Rebecca.

  He pulls out the phone and looks at it. He calls upstairs, “Idiot!”

  “What?”

  “Mark sent me a text message. It’s nothing.”

  “Ah.” Blinking away the awkwardness of being left out of a joke, I take another sip of Guinness.

  Brendan hits his knee against mine. “He seems to think you’re something else.”

  My heart flips over and it takes me a second to cut my eyes back to him. For once with these guys, I’m on the inside. It’s like the reframed memory, like life has mimicked my imagination and made it real. “Really?” I smile and shrug. “He’s right, you know.”

  Brendan laughs. “He also said you’re modest.”

  I shrug again. “He’s wrong, you know.”

  Brendan grins and shakes his head, a burst of laughter taking him over. We eat until there is only salt flakes and drips of ketchup and BBQ sauce left. “Come on.” He stands up and, watching his body move and his light-hearted face glance back at me, I follow him to the other end of the penthouse. He opens a door and I gasp, stopping centered in the doorframe of his room with him just inside it.

  He’s watching my face and he stands back as I walk into the room, astounded by the view, my eyes wide. Floor-to-ceiling windows on three long walls surround his king-sized bed, the skyline of San Francisco lit up in front of us. I turn around and stare at him, breathless. And because I can’t help myself, I joke, “It’s a good thing the nearest building is that far away,” I point my finger to the tallest one. “…because they’re about to get a show.”

  His grin switches gears and he walks to grab my hips and pull me in for a kiss. With my hands cupping his face to keep a cool distance between me and his bandage, our lips move together as goosebumps roll down my body, lighting up my arms before my legs. I shiver and pull away slightly, my eyes still closed.

  “You okay, Freckles?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “You’re sleeping here… right?”

  I open my eyes. “Mmhmm.”

  He kissed my cheeks, my nose, and my lips. “ You’ve got the contractor coming tomorrow.”

  I’m breathing him in, and nodding. “Mmhmm.” My fingers slide into the thick waves of his hair and our tongues find each other, teasing and touching slowly… then faster.

  “I want to pick you up and carry you to the bed,” he says, huskily.

  “Another time.” I lean up to kiss him again and we pull apart and hold hands to walk together to his insanely huge bed.

  “Shit!”

  I look up at him, surprised by his tone and the ferocious look on his face. He lets go of my hand and takes several
angry strides to the nightstand to grab up a woman’s black hair-tie, walking past me to the bathroom where he disappears to throw it away. I watch him, realizing what’s happening and gulping down jealousy. He reappears in the doorway and leans on it, looking from me to the hardwood floor. “Annie…”

  “She did that on purpose.”

  He nods, his mind on her and not happy about it. His jaw is tight, his teeth clenched. “Look…”

  My hands go up and I walk to him. “Wait! No. It’s okay. I know you’re seeing her and probably a lot of other people, too. I get it. You said, no girlfriends. I’m just happy and I really don’t want to think about any of that right now, if that’s okay. Not tonight. Please. Let’s just have one uninterrupted night before reality stops us again!”

  He’s staring at me, like he can’t hear me, or doesn’t believe it. “She hit a new low. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. She’s probably hurting.”

  The cloud in his eyes flickers and he smiles and looks away to the view. “Yeah.”

  “Are you?” I can’t believe I just asked that! No, no no… I don’t want to know!

  His eyes flick back to me and narrows them, thinking. “No. I think I’ve stopped hurting now.” He walks to me and picks up my chin to kiss me. He pulls back and looks at me. “No more interruptions.”

  Chapter Five

  Rebecca

  My hands: viciously grabbing up purse. My eyes: scanning for room key. Annie: history.

  I walk to grab it off the table and take a quick swig of the wine. Swinging open the door, I stroll out and head for the stairs, running right into a very surprised Tommy on his way up.

  Confused, he asks, “Going somewhere, Bec?”

  Stuttering, I throw my hand up to my head. “Tommy! Oh my God. There you are! You’re here.” My heart flutters like hummingbird wings. “I… was just about to go and look for you!”

  He turns his head away, side-eyeballing me, suspicious. “Oh yeah?”

  I nod, smoothing down my dress and smiling.

  “You changed,” he says, looking down at my outfit.

  “Did you expect me to wear what I was wearing, outside?” I laugh, blinking away my nerves, and add, remembering, “You said not to call you, so I knew I couldn’t. I had to go get you myself!”

  His eyes light up again, and he relaxes. “Oh, yeah. Right. Thank you. So…” He closes the gap between us. “You were going to chase me down, huh?”

  I nod, trying to calm my heart. “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, looks like great minds think alike. Let’s go back inside.”

  He kisses me and grabs my hip and turns me around. I walk to the door, reaching into my purse for the room key, my eyes on the door and my mind on Brendan. A slap on my ass wakes me up and I laugh nervously. “Are you staying over then?” I throw a smile over my shoulder as I open up the door.

  He nods, his eyes enflamed. “And I want to enjoy a little more of that wine.”

  “Great.” I smile and walk in.

  Chapter Six

  Annie

  If anyone has binoculars, I hope they’re taking notes.

  We make love in front of the incredible view with me on top of him, the blanket around my waist. Our eyes stay on each other even when the climax takes us over, rushing through us at the exact same, intoxicating time. “We have to start using condoms,” he says, incredulous when we realize that once again, we forgot.

  “Oh my God!” I climb off him and land a kiss on his lips before jumping off his bed. “I’ll remember next time, I promise!” I walk into the bathroom, clean up, and come back with a warmed, damp washcloth to clean him off with. “Your bathroom is as big as my living room.”

  Lying on his back, naked except for the gauze square on his ribs, he chuckles and watches me climb onto the bed to slowly and sensually clean him off, taking extra care. “That feels so good.” He closes his eyes, his whole body spent, relaxed and gorgeous.

  I get up to put the washcloth away again, and from behind me, I hear him say, “Your ass is shaped like a cello. I wanted to tell you earlier. It’s so beautiful.”

  I smile over my shoulder. “You like it?”

  “I like everything about you.” He closes his eyes, a small smile rested on his lips.

  My feet float me into the bathroom, a few inches off the floor, and I shut the door quietly, but quickly. At my reflection, I stare, trying to understand if I heard what I think I just heard. It feels like I could cry, like it’s not real… but why? What part of me thinks I don’t deserve to have these feelings? To be told I’m beautiful by the man I’ve loved since I’ve known him. There is a part of me that can’t take this in, and that part wants to sob and crawl into a corner. It’s the part of me that knows I need to tell him.

  “Brendan, we met before. We didn’t get along. I touched your lips. You yelled at me. I yelled at you. You said you wanted to stay far away from me. I called you an idiot. You chased me into the street. Why did you do that, by the way?” After whispering these things to myself, I look to the closed door and decide now is the time. With my heart pounding, I walk to put my hand on the doorknob and open it. I pause. My head feels woozy and my hands are clammy, but I know I have to do it now. I can’t live with knowing I have a secret from him, when I can plainly see that we are falling in love. For real. Not just a schoolgirl’s crush. Really falling in love… together.

  Cracking open the door, I try to inhale, but I can’t breathe. Propelled solely by will power, I step into his bedroom, naked and getting ready to bare my soul, too. I step onto the softness of the rug, but he doesn’t lift his head to smile. Walking closer, I hear a light snore coming from his parted lips. I stand by the bed and gaze at his sleeping face, knowing I can’t wake him like the nurses did. He needs to sleep through the night. He needs to heal. I can’t be selfish and upset him tonight after all he’s been through.

  My confession can wait. I know I’ll tell him. There’s no longer any question. I will just wait until he’s better, and when the time is right.

  Climbing into the bed, I pull up the blankets over both of us, tucking him in and lying beside him with enough space for his wounded body to be safe from sleeping twists and turns. I turn on my side and slide my hand under my head to watch him sleep, see his chest rise and fall easily.

  I stayed like this for awhile and fell asleep against my will, just to wake around two o’clock and find that sometime in those hours, his hand found mine. I unweave our fingers to make a trip to the bathroom, being quiet and letting myself live between dream-world and reality, never fully waking up. Climbing back into bed, I weave my fingers into his again. He gives mine a squeeze from his subconscious and I fall back asleep, happy.

  Chapter Seven

  Rebecca

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “We need more wood on the fire.” Tommy casts a sideways glance to the flames, now licking the air with far less height and frequency. His thick fingers are wrapped around the bottle of wine and he pours the dark red liquid into his glass with diabolical slowness. It’s extremely fucking unnerving.

  I can’t tell if he suspects I was lying to him; that twinkle in his eyes could mean anything. I suddenly know what a fox feels like cornered by a hound, and like one, I have to be sly. Get him off my scent. Make him believe me. So I strut over to him and touch his crotch, rub my hand down the length of his zipper. “I think we have enough wood, don’t you?”

  He grins and throws his head back with a loud laugh. “That we do.” Still smiling, he walks to the phone and dials, waiting for the front desk to answer, his eyes on me. “Could you send more wood to Room 10, please? Thanks.” He hangs up, throwing me a sexy smirk.

  I lower my eyelashes and look through them. “I’m glad you came back. What was I going to do, sit here and go to sleep? How boring.”

  His eyes glitter as he comes to me and runs his fingers through my hair, pulling me to him for a hard kiss. As his tongue touches mine, part of me wants to shove him off, but the
other submits to his skill. He’s such an amazing kisser that goose bumps run down my body. My hands slide up his chest, responding to him, my body reacting almost against my will, but when I touch his shoulder, he winces and pulls away, the left one thrust back farther than the right, like it’s the only one damaged. This confuses me.

  “Careful now.”

  “Sorry.” I stare at his shoulder. “Just the one?”

  His hazel eyes darken as he cocks his head in a way that looks dangerous. “They’re both sore. Why would just the one be? That wouldn’t make sense.”

  I nod, unconvinced. “Oh. Right.” I reach out to touch it. “It seems like you’re favoring this one more than the other.”

  He grabs my hand. “Now, now.”

  I frown. “I was just going to massage it, Tommy.”

  The corners of his eyes relax and he steps away to pick up his glass, tossing my hand aside. I step over to the edge of the bed and lean on it, gripping the sides, thinking how best to handle this man, and if that’s even possible.

  “Sorry, Bec. I’m not used to…” But he doesn’t finish, obviously hesitating to divulge too much.

  I thought Brendan was guarded, but Tommy has him beat. He’s like an untamed horse. That’s what makes him so sexy, the dirty wildness that oozes out of his pores. But caution is necessary around anything wild. You have to earn the trust of the beast before you’re safe to go near it.

  “What were you going to say, Tommy? I’m interested.”

  His mouth twitches as he drinks the wine, then sets it down.

  I take that as a door slightly squeezed open, and continue, “What aren’t you used to? A woman caring about you the way I care?”

  He frowns, glances to me and turns to the window, walks to it, taking his time as he opens the curtains a little to look out. What a body. His ass is fucking perfect and his posture is strong and sure. In a deep voice, almost inaudibly, he says, “I’m not used to being around someone with good intentions. When you went to touch me, the first thing I think is ---” He’s quiet for a second, then, “That you wanted to help me… I’m not used to that. But your motives aren’t all pure, are they? I know it’s not really me you want, Bec. I know you’re just using me.”

 

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