Playing for Keeps (Hope Valley Book 10)

by Jessica Prince

  I shot her a cold look. “Keep it up and I’m gonna push you off the stage next time we perform together.”

  She puckered her lips and blew me a kiss, knowing my threat was empty. She was mainly teasing in order to help pull my head out of the muddle it became every time Dalton was on the premises, and I appreciated that more than she could know.

  The dressing room door flung open, and the girls who had just performed came bustling in. That meant there was only one set left before mine, before I was once again face to face with the man I couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how bad he was for my sanity.

  I hustled back into the dressing room after my first performance, unhooking the corset as I moved. I grabbed the slinky purple negligee I had to wear for my next performance and pulled it over my head before moving back to my makeup station. I was in the middle of wiping off my eyeshadow so I could change up the colors when someone plonked their bag down on the ottoman to my left.

  I glanced over just as Marin scurried around, grabbing a nighty the same style as mine but in peacock blue instead of purple off its hanger.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she mumbled as she started pulling off her street clothes.

  “No problem,” I assured her. “You still have plenty of time.” I watched her closely, noticing something off with the way she was carrying herself, almost as if she was in pain. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was splotchy like she’d been crying. My brows pulled down in a frown and my head cocked to the side in concern as I asked, “You okay, babe?”

  “Yeah. Fine. Just a bit flustered because I’m late.” She kept her eyes averted as she unzipped her hoodie and slid it down her arms. She reached for the hem of her T-shirt and started to lift it, but stopped to pull in a sharp gasp.

  “Here, let me help.”

  “Oh no,” she started quickly as I stood and moved to her. “You don’t have to do that.” She struggled to stop me from helping. “I’m fine, really—”

  Her words cut off when I lifted the back of her shirt and let out a shocked curse. “What the hell, Marin?” I cried, yanking the material up higher so I could get a better look at the purple and black bruise that mottled her ribs on the left side of her back. “What happened? How did you get this?”

  “I fell down,” she muttered quietly as she pulled the shirt the rest of the way over her head. “It’s really not a big deal.”

  My vision began to cloud red and my lips pulled in a tight, flat line. “Really? That how you got those finger-shaped bruises on your arm too?”

  Her gaze shot down to where I was pointing, and she let out a broken, watery sigh at the sight of the five perfectly shaped fingerprints blemishing her upper arm.

  “Please, Charlotte,” she said in a small, barely-there voice. “Don’t make a big deal out of this okay? Just let it go.”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell of that happening. I might not have known these girls for very long, but I cared about them, and if one of them was being hurt, I had every intention of getting to the bottom of it.

  Taking Marin by the hand, I pulled her into a corner, behind a couple folding room dividers. It was a struggle, but I managed to check my rage and lower my voice. “Talk to me, honey. Who gave you those bruises?”

  She sniffled, wiping at the fresh tears that had just fallen down her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Someone put their hands on you, Marin. That fucking matters. You matter. Let me help you.”

  She gave her head a bleak shake as another tear broke free and slipped down her pale cheek. “You can’t.” She almost sounded grief-stricken. “If you did anything, he’d just hurt you too.”

  I clenched my hands into fists so tight my nails cut into my palms. “Wanna bet?”

  “I’m serious, Charlotte,” she said in a panicked tone. “He’s got a scary temper.”

  I knew all about scary tempers. I’d dealt with men who were downright evil, and something told me the guy taking his fists to my friend was nothing more than a pathetic coward who picked on people physically weaker than he was because he didn’t stand a chance with someone his own size. “Things I’ve seen, babe, it takes a lot more than some asshole to scare me. Now tell me what happened.”

  She inhaled a big, fortifying breath before finally opening up. “When we first started dating, he was so s-sweet.” Her voice broke on a stuttered breath as she fought to control her tears. “I thought I’d found the perfect guy, you know? Then everything changed when we moved in together. At first he was just mean. Then he got violent.” Her chin began to tremble. “He doesn’t hit me all the time, but when he does, I can usually hide the bruises better.”

  “What set him off tonight?”

  “I finally had enough. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I told him I was leaving, that we were done and I was moving out, and he kind of snapped. He wasn’t as careful as he usually is. He said there’s no way he’s letting me leave him.”

  I’d heard enough to make my blood boil over. “All right. Here’s what’s going to happen. Tonight, after your last set, you’re coming straight to my place. You can crash with me, but you aren’t going back to that asshole’s house. I get off before you, but I’ll still be awake. Just text me when you’re on your way. Then tomorrow, we’re gonna see about getting you set up in an apartment in my building. Once that’s done, we’ll go get your stuff and move you into your new place. Sound good?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip for a second, indecision warring on her face. “I’m not sure, Charlotte. I’d hate myself if something happened to you.”

  Reaching out, I took her hands in mine and gave them a squeeze. “Trust me, okay? I can handle your ex. I promise.”

  She pulled a big breath in through her nose and gave me a quick nod. “Yeah. Okay. I trust you.”

  I smiled and gave her hands a squeeze. “Good. Now how about we cover up those bruises, then later we’ll have ourselves an old-fashioned sleepover, complete with junk food and scary movies and all that stuff.”

  I tried not to let my excitement show, but the idea actually had me pretty jazzed. I’d never had friends growing up, so this would be my very first sleepover, and now that I’d said it out loud, I was getting excited. I knew Marin was too when her lips curved into a genuine smile.

  “That sounds great.”

  I led her from behind the screens and helped her to cover the bruises that were visible through her outfit, and then finished getting ready for my next performance—all the while, thinking of the million different ways I was going to make that shithead pay for hurting my friend.

  Chapter Four

  Charlotte

  My blood was still spiked with adrenaline as I stripped out of my costume after my last set. Grabbing a handful of makeup wipes, I scrubbed at the mess caked on my face until I could mostly see myself through a tiny remainder of eyeliner and mascara. I threw my hair up into a messy knot at the top of my head and slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a super soft cropped tee with a picture of a glammed-out David Bowie stretched across my chest.

  I slid my feet into a pair of flip-flops, and after securing a promise from Marin that she’d be at my place after she was finished for the night, I offered up waves and hugs to the other girls as I headed out.

  Letting out a huge exhale, I put my hands on the metal bar of the door and pushed it open. I jerked to a stop after only a few steps when I turned to look at the spot where Dalton’s truck was usually parked on the nights he came. It was empty, and as I scanned the rest of the parking lot, I felt my heart sink to the pit of my stomach as my lips tilted into a frown.

  “Lookin’ for someone?”

  I sucked in a breath at the sound of the deep, husky timbre and spun around, spotting Dalton standing a few yards away, his big truck parked in a different spot than usual. My mouth opened and the words started falling past my lips before I could pull them back. “I . . . I thought you’d left.”

  He did something then that
he hadn’t done in all the times he’d come to Whiskey Dolls. Pushing off his truck, he moved across the lot on his dusty, beat-up cowboy boots, closing the distance until there was less than a foot of space between us. My gaze trailed from those boots, up his long, thick thighs encased in faded denim that looked like it had been washed so many times it would be soft to the touch. I took in the way his off-white tee formed beautifully to his muscles, lingering just a second longer on the solid wall of his chest before finally looking up at his gorgeous face.

  It was the first time in more than six months he’d been so close, and my whole body reacted to his presence in a very big way.

  My breathing escalated and my heart began beating a staccato rat-a-tat-tat against my ribs. My skin grew tight and tingly over my muscles as my nipples pinched into stiff, sensitive peaks. A breeze blew by, causing his spicy, woodsy scent to invade my senses.

  I couldn’t have looked away from him if I wanted to. Dalton Prescott was the kind of man who demanded your full attention simply by existing. He was like something out of this world. When he walked into a room, you couldn’t help but immediately take notice.

  Built like a Spartan warrior, his frame screamed power, all the way from his broad shoulders and wide chest to his taut stomach and trim waist.

  When he looked at you with those intense dark eyes the color of swollen rainclouds, it was impossible not to lose your train of thought. Trust me I knew too well from extensive experience.

  He wore his beard trimmed short but thick, like he was attempting to hide part of his face, but it did nothing to detract from his dangerously full lips or the hard square cut of his jaw. With his sharp cheekbones and strong Roman nose, he was a sculptor’s wet dream, a man whose entire being deserved to be captured in stone.

  “And that bothered you.” It wasn’t a question. Dalton had an uncanny ability to see right through me and, it seemed, read my every thought and feeling before I could hide them. It had been a big point of contention between the two of us back when he’d been assigned bodyguard duty after things with Greg Cormack started to heat up.

  Schooling my features, I tipped my chin and squared my shoulders, stating, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His beard twitched, but I couldn’t tell if it was because he was fighting back a grin or because his jaw was ticking in agitation. If I were to base that twitch on our past interactions, it was more than likely the latter.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it, Thumbelina,” he rumbled, deep and gravelly. “Saw you walk out that door, and your eyes immediately shot to where you expected me to be. I watched as your whole face fell when you figured out I wasn’t there.” His voice lowered, heating up like rich melted chocolate. “You can lie to yourself, but you aren’t foolin’ me.” He reached out then, taking a lock of loose hair that rested against my neck and giving it a gentle tug. Those rough callused fingers brushed the sensitive skin at the side of my throat, causing a shiver I couldn’t suppress to skate along my spine.

  I instantly saw that he’d caught my reaction in the way his eyes heated as he stared at me, that gaze holding me captive. “What are you doing?” I asked in a small, tremulous voice.

  “Proving a point,” he declared, taking that last step and erasing the rest of the space between us. The man towered over me by nearly a foot, so I had to tip my head way back. “When I touch you, you tremble.” He palmed the side of my neck, his thumb coming to rest beneath my jaw, right over my pulse. “Your breath quickens and your heart starts to race.” He cocked his head to the side in curiosity. “What do you think would happen if I kissed you again?”

  My mind flashed back to the one and only kiss we’d shared, and my mouth grew so dry it felt like I’d swallowed a handful of cotton balls. Saying that kiss was good would have been like saying chocolate was only okay. That kiss wasn’t good; it had been utterly devastating to every single one of my senses. When his lips pressed against mine and his tongue invaded, everything else floated away. Nothing existed in those seconds but us. It was as if the rest of the world had melted away. In that tiny handful of time, I’d forgotten everything and everyone but him.

  And it had scared me half to death. I knew without a doubt that if a kiss could rock me to the core like that, I wouldn’t have been able to withstand anything more. And that was what he wanted. He’d made that perfectly clear. He wanted more, and he wanted it with me.

  That couldn’t happen.

  Micah and Hayden might not have believed it, but I was toxic. There was no happily ever after for a woman like me who’d made one shitty choice after another. I couldn’t risk my poisonous life leaching in and infecting Dalton. He was a good man, one of the best I’d ever met, and he deserved so much more than me. I couldn’t be what he wanted, but he refused to see it that way, so I’d done the only thing I could think of to save him from the misery I’d undoubtedly inflict on him.

  I walked away, making sure I burned the bridge between us until there was nothing left, and I’d done it spectacularly. Or so I thought.

  He tipped his head, his face coming closer, and I’d have given anything to feel his lips against mine again. But I couldn’t.

  “Dalton,” I whispered, that one word laced with panic. “Please don’t.”

  “Why?” he demanded, keeping his face so close I could feel his breath fan across my cheeks. His eyes glinted with determination, and I knew he was trying to read me. “Why don’t you want me to kiss you, Charlotte?”

  Because I wouldn’t be able to walk away again if you did, I thought, but I couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, I gave him a lie that left a harsh, bitter taste on my tongue. “Because I don’t feel that way about you.”

  He didn’t move away, but his head jerked like I’d just slapped him, and a piece of me shriveled up at the sight of it. I hated myself for hurting him.

  He shook his head. The disappointment that bled into his hard expression felt like a hot knife stabbing into my skin. “Knew you were a liar, but I never took you for a coward.” He finally took a step back, and the pain at the loss of his body heat was damn near tangible. “Guess I read you all wrong.”

  With that, he turned on his boots, his long-legged strides carrying him back to his truck quickly. This time he didn’t wait for me before climbing in and starting the engine, and as he peeled out of the lot without a backward glance, I stood immobile, watching his taillights disappear. A feeling of sadness crept over me, as if I’d just let something important slip right through my fingers.

  I was so damn glad to be getting out of here today, I could hardly see straight. The hospital was cold and sterile, reeking of antiseptic. I hadn’t had more than a handful of minutes to myself. If it wasn’t Micah coming by to check on me what felt like every hour, it was his woman, Hayden pulling a helicopter routine. Or it was a constant barrage of nurses and doctors coming to run tests or check vitals.

  However, while all these people came and went, there was one person who never left my room for longer than it took him to take a phone call or go to the bathroom.

  Dalton was a constant looming presence, and the longer he stuck around, the harder it was to maintain those walls that would keep him out. I’d done the worst possible thing a woman who was in danger and being protected by a tall, broad, sexy security professional could do; I’d gone and fallen for my bodyguard. A man I’d never be with because there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d ever be good enough for him.

  To make matters worse, it had become clear over the past several days of constant contact that I hadn’t been the only one to slip into my feelings. Dalton had made it clear that he wanted me too. With every long, intense look and soft, lingering touch, he was determined to knock those walls down.

  I’d fought it as hard as I possibly could, but his words and actions, the way he made me feel cared for, even treasured, were wearing down my defenses brick by brick. He was nothing if not determined, and I just couldn’t stop wanting him.

  My discharge c
ouldn’t have possibly come at a more convenient time. Dalton had to leave earlier this morning because of a case he’d been working on with his firm before he’d taken over babysitting me. Hayden was on her way to pick me up, and once I was in my own private space, I had a better chance of keeping him at a distance while I worked to rebuild the wall between us.

  I still wasn’t back to one hundred percent. Hell, I wasn’t even at seventy-five percent. It still hurt whenever I moved, so it took me twice as long to get dressed as it usually would. I’d gotten on my underwear and a pair of super soft joggers, but I was struggling to lift my arms high enough to get my shirt over my head when I heard the door to my hospital room open behind me.

  My shoulders slumped on a sigh. “Oh, thank God. I can’t get my shirt on. Could you help me out, Hay?”

  The fingers that skimmed across my back, trailing up my spine slowly and tantalizingly, most definitely didn’t belong to my soft, female friend, Hayden.

  All the air expelled from my lungs, goosebumps broke out across every inch of skin, and I suddenly became aware of the electric current in the air, like a lightning storm had just moved through.

  A shiver wracked my whole body as he grabbed the hem of my shirt and slowly worked it down, taking his time to cover me up.

  I had to clamp my eyes shut against the need that clawed at my throat and made it feel like ants were crawling beneath my skin.

  Making sure the bandage on my abdomen was completely covered, I forced myself to turn and look up into those gunmetal gray eyes that always made it feel like I was staring into storm clouds.

  “W-what are you doing here?” It felt like the temperature in the room had gone up about a million degrees. “I thought you had work.”

  “Got word you were bein’ released. Wanted to be here to take you home.”

  “Oh, uh . . .” I moved around the bed, needing to put distance—and a physical obstacle—between us. I rummaged around in my purse that was sitting on the mattress, trying to have something to do with my hands and somewhere to look other than at him. “That wasn’t necessary. Hayden should actually be here any minute now. But I appreciate the offer.”