1001 Dark Nights Short Story Anthology 2020

by Fiona Archer

  “You...you told him that?”

  “Hell yeah, I did. Know what he said?” I shake my head. “That if I’m serious about you, there’s no one else he’d rather see you with. Once I explained my intentions, he gave us his blessing.”

  “And what intentions are those?”

  “To make sure you’re happy and you know how much I love you, every day I take a breath on this earth.”

  More tears flow, probably ruining my mask, but I no longer care. “Truly?”

  Everyone starts shouting numbers as they count down to the stroke of midnight. It’s impossible to hear anything, but Jonah doesn’t bother speaking. He presses one of my hands over his heart where it beats double-time in his chest, then mouths I love you, Mags.

  “Four...three...”

  I mouth I love you, too and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

  Cupping my jaw, Jonah kisses me so deeply I swear time stands still. For so many years we masked our desires for each other. Ironically, all it took was a masquerade ball for us to reveal our true feelings and finally take a chance on love.

  Copyright 2020 Gina L. Maxwell

  About Gina L. Maxwell

  Gina L. Maxwell is a New York Times, USA Today, and International bestselling author of more than a dozen scorching contemporary romance novels. Her books have been translated into eight different languages and formatted for both audiobooks and gaming apps.

  Despite her scathing hatred of cold weather, Gina lives in the upper Midwest with her real-life romance hero of twenty-five years and their boxer pup and tabby cat who are reluctant recipients of her excessive affection now that her human babies are all grown up.

  Website | Amazon | BookBub | Goodreads | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter

  General Newsletter Sign-Up | Maxwell Mob (FB Reader Group)

  More books by Gina L. Maxwell

  Pan, a Neverland Novel #1

  This isn’t the Neverland you grew up with…

  From a secret friendship between an orphan boy and a young girl, to the epic romance of a headstrong man and the ambitious woman he loves but has to let go, this fairytale is unlike anything you’ve ever read before. Pan is an adult contemporary retelling of Peter Pan with Wendy, Hook, Tink, and the Lost Boys.

  Hook, a Neverland Novel #2

  I'm not the hero of this story. I'm the villain.

  I’m Captain of the Pirates; a villain by design and a loner by nature.

  I don’t need anyone. More than that, I don’t want anyone. Especially a certain police officer who insists on seeing the good in everything, including me. If there was ever any good inside of me, it was snuffed out long ago. I’ve lived in the dark for too long, and no amount of light can save me.

  Not even one as bright as Johnathan Darling.

  Seducing Cinderella

  (Fighting for Love series, book 1)

  He'll teach her the art of seduction...for a price.

  MMA champ, Reid Andrews, agrees to teach his best friend’s little sister the art of seduction so she can land the man of her dreams. But when his feelings begin to change, Reid finds himself in the fight of his life, and it’s not even in the octagon. Now he needs to switch up his game plan if he wants to win Lucie’s heart…before she gives it to somebody else.

  To check out the rest of Gina’s backlist, visit her website here

  Masterpiece

  by

  Janie Crouch

  Chapter 1

  Outside

  Waverly

  I stood across the street staring at a house I’d never seen before, rubbing the soft piece of fabric in gentle circles between my thumb and fingers. The motion still soothed me, even eighteen months later. The small piece of cloth—not much bigger than a tissue now—was never far out of my reach.

  Triggers were vicious bullies.

  They waited until your guard was down, then pounced without warning–a particular smell, a voice at a certain pitch, a light flashing in a particular way—and I was back in that cage again.

  The fabric was the first thing I reached for when my mind started to close in on itself.

  I didn’t need it right now and could put it back in my pocket at any time, but just wanted to feel it.

  Especially since this fabric was why I was here standing on the sidewalk in front of a small craftsman-style house in Highlands, New Jersey about an hour outside New York City.

  Ian DeRose’s house.

  It wasn’t the type of home anyone would expect from a billionaire. He had a penthouse in Manhattan. I’d been there. Been on his private jet. Been fed by the private chef he kept on retainer whether he was dining in or not.

  Made love with him multiple times in his king-sized bed that looked out on to Central Park. And each time slipped out of it before he’d woken up.

  I’d known all the ins and outs of the privileges surrounding Ian’s wealth and had walked away from them more than once.

  Or maybe ran from them was a better term. Ran from him.

  But today, at this home he kept secret from everyone, I had no more plans to run. That’s what I’d come to tell him today. But I hadn’t expected him to be at a place I knew nothing about.

  So I stood across the street from a house that needed another coat of paint, and waited, rubbing the cloth outside, exactly eight and a half more minutes.

  By now the security detail he had follow me would’ve notified him I was out of pocket, but they’d still assume I was somewhere in the gallery. They’d be searching.

  Panic wouldn’t start until they couldn’t find me. Probably about… seven minutes and fifty-two seconds from now.

  I didn’t want anyone freaking out. I just wanted Ian to know he didn’t always have me as tightly in his grasp as he thought. That his men watched me because I allowed it.

  And I wanted to be here face-to-face to tell him I wanted him to take over the job of protecting me full-time. So I waited the rest of the seven minutes and change before crossing the street and knocking.

  There was no response from my first knock, so I waited a few seconds and knocked again, louder.

  He was already talking—voice deep, gruff, never failing, even now, to do something to my body that I wasn’t sure anyone else in the world could do—as he opened the door. “Whatever you’re selling, I don’t have time for it toda—”

  His words cut off abruptly as he caught sight of me. He was holding a computer tablet in one hand. Had a phone tucked between his shoulder and chin while holding a second one to his other ear with his hand.

  He switched mental gears in less than a breath.

  “Keller, the situation is under control. Have Zodiac stand down.” He pressed a button on the phone he was holding in his hand, then threw it toward the small table next to the door, eyes glued on me.

  “Finn,” he said into the other phone. “I’ve got Wavy here with me. She’s fine. I’ll have her call you soon.”

  I winced as he hung up with my older brother. I should’ve known he’d call Finn right away. The same sort of Special Forces/Navy SEAL alpha male voodoo ran in their bloods.

  They both wanted to protect me, to make up for the time they hadn’t been able to.

  “And one last text to Zac Mackay before he sends out the entire Linear Tactical team en masse.” Ian typed rapidly with one hand on the tablet before tossing it on the side table with the phones, his gray eyes never once leaving mine. I didn’t have to read the message to know it contained no errors, even though he hadn’t looked at it.

  He stepped out onto the small porch and into my personal space like he belonged there. Like he had every right to have his big, hard body pressed up against me even though we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

  He yanked me to him and kissed me.

  Ian’s kisses were like the man himself—a force of nature. Protector and predator rolled into one.

  Gentleness didn’t come naturally to him. Not in life and not in his kisses. One arm banded
around my hips like iron. Possessive fingers of the other hand threaded through my hair so he could hold me in place to kiss me the way he wanted.

  I knew with one word he would release me completely. He’d proven that more times than any one person should have to prove it to another.

  But I didn’t want him to. I wanted to keep feeling those greedy lips on mine, tongue joining in to soothe after gentle nips of his teeth. I loved how he took possession of my mouth.

  Loved that he never treated me like I was breakable.

  Even if I was, and we both knew it.

  We were both breathing heavily by the time he finally lifted his lips from mine. I was a little surprised he didn’t drag me inside and take me against the door.

  That had happened before.

  He leaned his forehead against mine, his arms still around me. “Only you could cause such a brouhaha in eleven minutes and fifty-two seconds, Freckles.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think you’d call out the entire national guard in that short a time.”

  He ran his thumb gently down my cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. Let me take you out to eat. There’re some seafood places to die for around here.”

  I leaned into his hand. He always fed me—still trying to make up for all the meals I didn’t get during my captivity. Normally I would let him, because hell, I loved to eat as much as he loved to feed me.

  But not today. Not while we were here at this secret house.

  He’d sat down with me one night a few months ago and asked to install an app on my phone. One that could show me in seconds every property and house he owned. Every business, office building, or hotel that was connected to the DeRose name.

  And the app could instantly pinpoint which property was closest to where I was and the most direct method of getting there.

  With anyone else I might have thought it was just an amazing show of wealth that he happened to have a business or property in basically every region of the world.

  But I knew Ian’s mind. That giant brain of his. He’d basically created a network of safe houses for me all over the world. His way of protecting me, even when I sometimes wouldn’t let him close.

  He’d made it clear I was welcome at any of these places at any time under any circumstances.

  Except for this one unremarkable house in New Jersey that hadn’t been on the app.

  “You’re not going to let me in?”

  He pulled me closer, lips falling to my neck. “Let’s go back to the penthouse. We can be there in less than an hour. I’ll have you completely naked and bent over that chair in front of the window thirty seconds after that.”

  “No.”

  His lips moved up to my jaw. “You’re right. I won’t be able to wait until all our clothes are off. You’ll be lucky if you make it out of the elevator without getting fucked.”

  I swallowed hard, my insides clenching at his words. I wanted that just as much as he did.

  But not until I knew what was going on.

  “What is this place, Ian? You might as well tell me because you know I’m not leaving until I have answers.”

  * * * *

  Ian

  I couldn’t remember the last time someone had caught me so off guard. Of course, Wavy Bollinger, with her soft brown hair and big green eyes, had been doing that from the moment I met her.

  I’d always known that my brain processed information differently from others. My core cognitive capacities were…higher than most people’s.

  It had allowed me to be successful at everything I’d ever put effort toward: schooling, military, business. My brain tended to pinpoint the nuances of a situation and how to achieve my objectives in a split second. I was fast.

  Except with her.

  Everything slowed down to a single focus whenever Wavy Bollinger demanded my attention. Which she did just by breathing.

  But she couldn’t come into this house.

  I wanted to kiss her again. Wanted to do a lot more than that, but not here.

  My heart had already taken a beating once today, for the 712 seconds in which no one seemed to know where Wavy was. She’d gone into the gallery for her weekly appointment with the dealer who handled the bulk of her paintings. The meeting generally took one hour.

  My men, employees of Zodiac Security, were some of the best in the business. They were aware of the precarious balance they held with Wavy.

  She knew I had them follow her. She didn’t like it, but generally didn’t kick up a fuss as long as they kept their relative distance.

  “How did you find me here?”

  She shrugged one small shoulder. “I bugged one of your men’s phones.”

  I had to smile. She’d used my core weakness against me.

  Her.

  Every call from every phone on the planet was routed through my cybersecurity network so that no one could ever pinpoint where I was from tracing a call. Except for the men watching her. I didn’t want to waste valuable seconds when it came to updates about Wavy. And she’d known that.

  This woman.

  God, how she kept me on my toes.

  “You could’ve just tracked your own. Same result.”

  She took a few seconds, staring at the door. “Do you have a family in there, Ian? That’s the only thing I can think of that you would go to such great lengths to keep hidden from me.”

  “What? No. Trust me. When I have a wife and kids stashed in a house somewhere, you’ll know.” Because she’d be the one wifing and kidding with me.

  I expected her to crack a joke with that smart mouth of hers. I loved it when she had sass. It reminded me how alive she was. Given that my nightmares were filled with her screams and visions of how close she’d come to dying, I’d take her smart mouth any day.

  But she didn’t.

  “You really thought I had a wife and two point five kids I’d somehow hidden away from you? In fucking New Jersey?”

  She scrubbed a hand over her face. “No. No, of course not. I just…this wasn’t what I was expecting. I knew this was some sort of neighborhood when I came out here. But I thought you had, I don’t know, a photography business or something. Not a cute little craftsman where you just liked to hang out.”

  “I grew up in a house like this.” I sighed as she peeked around me at the door again. “I needed a place a little outside the city and wanted something normal, so I bought it.”

  She wasn’t going to understand this.

  “You know you’re going to have to let me in, right?” She said the words gently, calmly, like she was talking to a spooked horse or a not-terribly-bright toddler.

  And I knew, like she did, that she wasn’t just talking about inside the house.

  I noticed her fingers rubbing the material in her hand again. She’d been doing that when I first opened the door. Her tiny little security blanket. The piece of material she rubbed when the memories of what she’d endured crushed her under their weight.

  I would take every single one of those memories on myself if I could, take all the phantom pain that still woke her up sobbing. I hadn’t made it out of the situation without my own scars—both physical and emotional. But I’d still take her pain and fear if I could.

  But I couldn’t, so I’d given her the softest T-shirt I’d owned. Explained how having something soft to touch had helped a lot of vets with PTSD.

  For weeks she’d worn the shirt, rubbing the hem to soothe herself. Finally, she’d taken it off. Then more recently she’d cut it into a smaller, more manageable size, as she’d needed it less and less.

  But evidently, she needed it now, whether she knew it or not.

  Hell, I needed it.

  “I don’t want you to go inside, Freckles. What’s in there…”

  Her green eyes latched back onto mine. “I have no secrets from you. You’ve had a front row seat to the nightmare I’ve lived through. I came here today because I thought this was the place you went to truly be yourself. No billionaire, no busines
s savant, no Navy SEAL. Just Ian.”

  That’s exactly what this place was. I should’ve known she would ascertain that before ever setting foot near it.

  “Whatever you have inside,” she continued. “I’m not afraid. I won’t run. You’re the one person in my life who’s never treated me like I was broken. Don’t start on me now.”

  Chapter 2

  Inside

  Waverly

  I was a fucking liar.

  Standing there telling Ian I wasn’t afraid of what was inside this house when every second I felt more and more like my entire world was crumbling to dust.

  The terror and confusion I’d felt when I’d woken up in a cage were some of my clearest memories. I didn’t know how to explain it, but those particular memories had a distinct taste for me. Metallic almost.

  Given everything, the actual waking up in a cage shouldn’t be so predominant. My psychiatrist said my mind was protecting itself, making the other…stuff that happened to me more fuzzy, removing a lot of the details.

  But those first few hours of trying to figure out what was going on, how I’d gotten there, what I could’ve done differently rather than meet with that so-called art agent who’d wanted to represent me…they were crystal clear.

  That same metallic taste flooded my mouth now. Confusion laced with terror.

  What was behind that door?

  I began to shake, rubbing my cloth more frantically. I wanted to run away almost as much as I wanted to go inside.

  I looked back from the door and found his gray eyes—eyes I’d once thought icy and calculating—studying me. In a holding pattern, waiting patiently for me to find my strength, my courage, my footing.

  How many times had I seen that exact same look in his eyes? The man was a half-step down from being a superhero the way his brain worked so quickly. And he had the strength and size to be able to physically save the day too.