Authors: Sylvia Day
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance, #Contemporary
“You don’t need this crap in your life,” he said harshly. “Riley doesn’t need it.”
“We need
you
,” she retorted, “and you and the job are a package deal.”
“You’ve got me.” His dark gaze was stormy. “I’ll always be here for you, just as I’ve always been. We just need to keep things simple.”
That was ridiculous. What they had was totally complicated.
He
was complicated, and he was used to keeping his circle of friends small and tight. Letting her in probably scared the shit out of him on a level he didn’t even recognize. Because then he could lose her, one way or the other.
He was going to figure out, real quick, that she had absolutely no intention of getting lost.
“Simple, huh?” Rachel backed away from him and headed into the house. She needed a beer. Maybe two. “As simple as living in the same town?”
Jack followed her. “As simple as keeping things the way they have been until last night.”
She wondered if he heard how gruff he sounded, how defensive.
Reaching the fridge, she pulled out two beers and set one down in front of him. They faced each other across her kitchen counter with equally wary and examining glances.
“You don’t get to make that decision by yourself, Jack.” She twisted off the top of her beer and took a swig.
His gaze narrowed. He had his game face on, dangerous and inscrutable. “I’ll make the decision if it keeps you safe.”
“I think the person you’re trying to save is yourself.” She pointed at him with the neck of her bottle. “I scare you.”
“Thinking of something happening to you scares me.” He opened his beer and drank, watching her as he swallowed.
“So, you ride off into the sunset, and I’m here safe and sound . . . until I get carjacked at the gas station. Or robbed at the store.”
“Not the same thing,” he argued. “The level of inherent risk with me is much higher.”
“Shouldn’t I be more worried about
you
not coming home than the reverse?”
“I know what I’m getting into when I go to work. You didn’t sign up for this.” Jack ran his hand through his hair. “The last thing I want to do is bring more traumas to your life. You and Riley need someone who comes home every day. Someone who leaves their work at the office. Someone—”
“Like Steve?” she interjected. “A guy who never had a moving violation in his life. No speeding tickets. A guy who never drove without his seat belt on. Who would have thought he’d die in a car wreck? No one. Terrible things happen to unsuspecting people every day. It’s part of living, Jack. There’s no way to go through life risk-free.”
“I’m not bringing the shit from my job to your doorstep. Period.”
Rachel’s foot tapped on the tile floor. “You think I didn’t know what I was taking on when I seduced you? I’m a grown woman with a child who depends on me. I don’t jump without looking. You seem to be forgetting how well and how long I’ve known you.”
“Steve didn’t know the gritty details of what I do. If he had, he never would have wanted you anywhere near me on a permanent basis.”
Her gaze moved to the photo of Steve and Jack on the mantel in the next room. She could barely make out the details from where she stood, but the image was indelibly etched on her mind; she could see it with her eyes closed. Both men were dark-haired and brown-eyed. Both were tall and fit. But that was where the similarities ended. Steve’s handsome Asian features reflected his fun and easy charm, while Jack’s gaze was shadowed and his smile guarded. Steve had been content with the simple things in life—like her. Extroverted and spontaneous, he was known and liked by damn near everyone; Jack was hard to know and harder to understand.
Yet she loved them both madly.
Rachel looked at him. “You were the brother Steve never had. He trusted you with his life. But I don’t make my decisions based on conjecture about what my deceased husband would think of them.”
“Don’t you?” he challenged softly, his eyes so dark they looked black. “Tell me Steve isn’t the reason you came over last night.”
“Steve isn’t the reason I came over last night.” She lifted her chin. “I loved my husband. I couldn’t have loved him more. He was everything to me and if he were alive right now, what happened last night would never have happened. But he died, and I came to terms with that. I changed. My needs and wants changed. And now, when I look at you, I don’t think about him. I don’t think about you in relation to him. Half the time, I don’t think at all, because I’m too busy appreciating the view. If you gave me some kind of best friend pity fuck last night, that’s on you. Don’t try and say that’s where I was coming from.”
Jack was oddly still . . . except for the rapid tempo of his breathing and the fevered brightness of his eyes, both of which betrayed far more volatile emotions.
Rachel frowned, catching on to the fact that she was missing something. She didn’t believe he’d made love to her for any other reason than that he’d wanted to, but she was beginning to think he hadn’t attributed the same motivation to her. “What’s going through your head?”
“It doesn’t matter. I was wrong.” He looked down at his bottle, which he twisted and turned atop the counter. There was a softness to his features that tightened her chest.
“Most especially in thinking you could put on the breaks and slide into reverse.” She bent down and leaned to the side, catching his lowered gaze. “There’s only forward, Jack. I stopped looking back a while ago.”
JACK
stared at the vibrant woman looking at him in a way he’d never allowed himself to even dream about and knew he was done. He was never going to be able to say no to her. Not now. Not in the future. He wanted to give her everything, make her happy, keep her safe.
As if she knew what he was thinking, she said, “The safest place I can be is right next to you.”
“Not when I’m the reason you’re endangered to begin with.”
“So you spend some of your off-duty days teaching me how to shoot a gun until I’m dangerous. You help me pick out an outrageously expensive and comprehensive alarm system for the house.”
“Which house?”
“Both. For now.” She smiled. “And you wear a bulletproof vest all the time. No crazy heroics.”
“All the time?”
“Except when I want you naked.”
His mouth twitched. “I was hoping
that
would be all the time.”
“After last night, that
is
all the time.”
“Then I’ll be wearing body armor only rarely.”
“If you want me to kick your ass and deny you sexual favors, try it.”
Jack lifted his beer to his mouth to hide a smile. It was inappropriate considering the seriousness of the discussion, but Rachel always had that effect on him. She made him happy in spite of himself.
“You can talk to me about anything, Jack,” she said softly, all levity gone. “You can ask me anything, and I’ll try to come through for you. But you can’t tell me to let you walk away. I can’t do it, I can’t let you go.”
He swallowed and looked around the condo she’d bought after Steve died. It was the perfect size for her and Riley. The kitchen boasted new stainless-steel appliances and was big in relation to the overall square footage, which suited someone who baked for a living. The window over the sink had curtains with cupcakes on them—a housewarming gift from Steve’s mom.
“You have a good life here,” he noted. “You’ve got family nearby and a new business. Riley has his friends and classmates.”
“I do have it good.” She set her elbow on the counter, then her chin in her hand. “You do realize, don’t you, that I never could have done what I did last night with any other man? I can’t even imagine throwing myself at anyone else. Even with Steve, I waited for him to make the first moves. I was always afraid I’d stir up more than I could handle.”
Jack forced himself to breath deep and easy, trying to slow the rapid beating of his heart. “I was rough with you. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re in love. And I loved every moment with you. I wouldn’t change one thing that happened last night. I told myself I was strong enough to take you on, and now I know I can.” She smiled gently. “That’s not a surprise is it? That you’re in love with me?”
“No. I knew.” He watched as something hot and tender swept over her face. “I also know loving someone means wanting what’s best for them. I’m not good for you.”
He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “Hear me out. Any minute now, my phone could ring and I will have to go. Christmas, your birthday . . . I can’t promise I’ll be here. Once I leave, I won’t always know when I’ll be back. One of these days, you’re gonna wake up and realize you want someone around full-time.”
Rachel straightened. “I’ve been getting by on my own with Riley for two years. I don’t need a man around just because. I don’t have any problem going to bed alone. What I want is
you
. Not some interchangeable guy; not someone like Steve. Look at it this way: I already have the cake. You’re the icing on top, with sprinkles, candied fruit, and chocolate drizzle.”
“And I’m just as bad for your health,” he muttered.
“I
want
you going straight to my hips. I want the sugar rush and the toe-curling deliciousness. I’ve earned it.”
She licked her lips and his dick went hard, remembering what that mouth had done to him when he’d stepped out of the shower that morning.
Taking a deep breath, Jack laid it out there. “You’re asking me to risk losing you and Riley completely. I can live with what we’ve got now, but nothing at all . . . I don’t think I’d survive it.”
Rachel rounded the counter. “I’m deliberately keeping this light, because I don’t want to scare you off. I’m saving the heavy stuff for later, when you can’t run. I was thinking you should be handcuffed to the bed before I tell you that you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life and I’m the last woman you’re ever going to bed with.”
She walked right into him, hugging him tight. He had to restrain himself from squeezing her too hard. God, he was crazy for even thinking this could work.
“In the meantime,” she went on, “we’ll start with a race to see who can acquire the most frequent-flier miles by the end of the year, and work from there. Week by week, you’ll learn that not being able to live without me means living with me. Eventually, you’ll get used to not being alone and we’ll both become familiar with this new take-no-prisoners version of myself that you inspire.”
“You’re making this sound easy,” he murmured with his lips to the crown of her head, “but it’s not.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “No, we’re going to have to work on it and make some sacrifices and
take risks
. What I’m saying is it’ll be worth it. The difficult part’s already over—we both fell hard. It’s onward and upward from here.”
“Take no prisoners.” He shook his head and a small laugh escaped him. God, he was scared shitless. He didn’t know how to bring something precious and fragile into his life.
“Except for you.” Her hands slid up his back. Her lips whispered across his jaw.
Jack lifted her feet from the floor. “I want to be good for you.”
“You have been. You are. You will be.” Her teeth scraped lightly over his earlobe, sending a surge of heat and longing through him. “I’m going to show you all the ways I’ve grown stronger because of you. Because of things you’ve done for me and said to me. Because of how you look at me. For a long time, I didn’t understand why you look at me the way you do, but I knew you saw something in me I wasn’t seeing. I can’t tell you how many times thoughts of you motivated me when I wasn’t sure I could get something done.”
He kissed the top of her shoulder, which was bared by the asymmetrical shirt she wore. “You can do anything you set your mind to.”
“I’m setting my mind to returning the favor. Together, we can overcome anything—our pasts, your job, a long-distance relationship. I’ll send you Better Than Sex cupcakes to tide you over between days off.”
“I thought we established that the name is false advertising.”
“God, did you ever,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But I enjoyed your argument so much, I’d be happy to have you repeat it.”
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. Right now, he had all he’d ever wanted. They would plan the next steps together. After that . . .
Onward and upward,
she’d said.
Jack’s arms tightened around her. Onward and upward.
Keep reading for a preview of the next book in the Shadow Stalkers series by Sylvia Day
TAKING THE HEAT
Available now from InterMix
Two explosions rocked Deputy U.S. Marshal Brian Simmons on August 15 at 4:32 in the afternoon: the first was the sight of his perennial wet dream, Layla Creed; the second was the detonation of a launched grenade.
Brian heard the whistling of the approaching explosive a second before the projectile hit one of three Chevy Suburbans waiting to transport Layla from a safe house to the Baltimore/ Washington airport. Lunging forward, he tackled her to the ground, shielding her with his body with only seconds to spare.
The blast radiated from the point of impact, sending a surge of heat roiling over them. The shock wave jolted her slender body and he curled around her, clutching her tightly. The ringing in his ears was deafening, dulling the sound of Layla’s screams. But he felt them. Felt them vibrate against him.
Shrapnel rained down. Fire licked at the soles of his shoes. He scrambled to his feet, pulling her up and hauling her back into the apartment building. His ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton, his focus narrowed by the instinctive need to get Layla to safety.
Layla.
Withdrawing his service weapon, Brian steered her with a firm grip on her elbow. They bypassed the elevator and slipped into the stairwell. He glanced up, momentarily considering the viability of returning to the room she’d occupied the night before. Then, he pulled her down toward the subterranean garage.
The safe house had been compromised. At least two deputies had lost their lives, one of whom was a friend he’d known for years. He wasn’t certain who he could trust, and with Layla in the crosshairs, he wasn’t taking any chances. Hard-driving possessiveness pushed him forward. She kept up; her fingers linked tightly with his as they thundered down the stairs.
They burst through the metal stairwell door into the garage. A forest green Honda was backing out of a parking spot to their left and Brian stepped behind it, withdrawing his badge and identification from his pocket.
He met the gaze of the female driver who gaped at him through her rearview mirror. “I need you to get out of the car, ma’am.”
A harried-looking brunette climbed out from behind the wheel, her widened eyes on his Glock. She held both hands up, her purse dangling from the bent crook of her elbow.
He holstered his weapon and handed her his business card. “Call that number and they’ll get you squared away.”
Grim-faced, Layla slid into the passenger seat without prompting.
Brian was pulling out of the garage when the wail of sirens announced the arrival of the local authorities and fire engines. He could see the black plume of smoke as he hit the freeway on-ramp.
• • •
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