Crashed (Entangled Indulgence) (2 page)

He crossed his arms, creating more distance between them, and shrugged. “You’re still that lost little girl, aren’t you, Alex? Scared shitless of everything.”

What?
Her heart pounded, and her breath rushed from her lungs like he’d sucker punched her. “You don’t know jack—”

He glanced down, inspected his fingernails, uninterested in what she had to say, and successfully cut her off midsentence without a single word. When he looked up, he said, “Don’t you think it’s time you grew the hell up?”

She tensed against all that quiet, controlled fury directed at her. And when it came, she welcomed the familiar surge of anger. Getting angry was better than crying. She’d shed more than enough tears over him already. “I’m confused here. Please explain your definition of growing up. Does fucking
you
make me a grown-up? Or just fucking in general?”

His jaw did some more clenching. “You haven’t slept with anyone else.”

The surety in his tone just pissed her off even more. Dammit, she hated that he was right. She forced a laugh. “What? You think you ruined me for all other men?”

Oh, crap.
Wrong thing to say.

He moved back in, so close she could feel the heat of his body against hers. Her traitorous nipples puckered at the contact. He leaned in, his mouth a mere inch from hers, and whispered, “I know I have.”

His breath tickled her lips, and despite her anger, she struggled to find the strength to shove him away. “Back the hell up,” she ground out.

He didn’t budge, gaze dipping to her mouth. She sucked in a breath. He wouldn’t, would he? Oh, yeah, it was time to call the men in white coats, because, dammit, she wanted him to, wanted more of those demanding, hungry kisses the man excelled at.

But he stepped back suddenly, and all the air trapped in her lungs came out in a rush. He circled his desk, like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. “I don’t have time for your temper tantrums today, Alex.”

She was still trying to get her heart rate to slow down and stop her knees from shaking, and he looked unruffled and emotionless. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ve told you what I’m going to do.” He didn’t look up from his laptop, dismissing her completely.

“This will kill your sisters.”
It’s killing
me
.

He looked up then and stared at her for a long minute until she wanted to squirm. Instead she scowled.

He picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. “You really think you can make it work?”

“I know we can.” They were getting new clients every week. It was only a matter of time till the place was back in the black.

He leaned back in his chair. “Okay. I’ll give you three months.” She let out a relieved breath, until he added, “On one condition.”

She was almost too afraid to ask. “What is it?”

His gaze moved from her face, across her shoulders, then blazed a heated path over her small breasts and down her belly before lifting to meet hers. “I often need someone to accompany me to functions…”

She ignored her unease and forced an unladylike snort. “You need a date?”

“Yes, but you didn’t let me finish.” He stayed behind his desk, watching her carefully. “I’m a man, Alex. I have needs like any other. I don’t have time for relationships. I don’t want a serious commitment, and one-night stands aren’t really my thing.”

Was he— No way. He couldn’t seriously be asking her to be his fuck buddy.

“For the next three months, I want you to fill those roles.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “So you’re saying…you want…you want me to…”

“I want you to dress up nice, accompany me to dinners and other events I often have to attend. I’ll pay for your expenses, of course. Clothes, shoes, salon appointments. Whatever you want.” He leaned forward in his chair. “What I’m saying, Alex, is for the next three months, I want you to share my bed. That is what I want.”

Her head spun. “You’ve lost your mind.”

He didn’t look away; his gaze didn’t falter. “Those are my conditions. Nonnegotiable. Take it or leave it.”

Still, she stared at him. Waited for him to tell her he was just fucking with her. He didn’t. Did he think that little of her? That she was just some dispensable piece of ass? “You have to be joking.”

“I’m deadly serious.”

She spun and yanked open the door but looked back before she walked out. “I won’t be your whore. You can stick your deal.”

“Fine. Be ready for the valuer in two weeks.”

Chapter Two

Deacon watched Alex storm from his office and cursed.

The impact of seeing her again shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She looked just the same. Beautiful. Fucking untouchable.

But as soon as he’d laid eyes on her, those feelings, the ones he’d managed to keep on lockdown, had reared up and sucker punched him in the gut. Along with all the frustration, anger, and disappointment he’d felt waking in that bed alone all those months ago. He’d nearly given in to it. Had been so close to kissing that smart mouth, kissing that maddening attitude right out of her, and forcing her to see exactly what she did to him.

And he would have ruined everything.

Alex acted tough, but she was fractured, brittle. One wrong move, and she’d fall to pieces. Crumble right through his fingers. She’d become so used to pushing everyone away, it was now second nature. She had the don’t-mess-with-me attitude, the tattoos. All designed to keep people at arm’s length. But he’d tasted the soft, vulnerable woman beneath. And he wouldn’t stop till he had more.

Being shipped from one foster family to the next had built that impenetrable wall she hid behind, and it was time to knock it down.

That night with her six months ago, he’d gotten a glimpse of the real Alex again. No way was he letting her go a second time. She’d been there for him after his father died. They’d fallen into bed together, and she’d shown him the beauty that lay beneath the tough exterior, the girl he remembered.

Then he’d woken up to an empty bed. She’d run scared.

He’d tried patient, and he wasn’t a patient man. She’d ignored his calls. Avoided him. It didn’t matter what he did or said. She wouldn’t let him in. That would mean accepting the truth, accepting the way she felt about him, allowing herself to believe that he could actually have feelings for her. She wouldn’t willingly expose herself to that kind of pain and heartbreak.

Not again. Not after the way he’d screwed up last time.

Forcing her to confront those feelings now was a risk, but one he had to take. He knew her well enough to know if he tried to sit her down, tell her how he felt about her—she’d run scared. There was no doubt in his mind. And he’d lose her for good.

That couldn’t happen.

He was desperate. He was also out of options. If she couldn’t figure it out for herself, it was time to clue her in.

She belonged to him. They belonged together.

He’d known she’d come to him all guns blazing when she got his letter, had banked on it. He stood and slipped on his jacket, taking his time going after her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

West Restoration, the garage Alex was trying to save—the one he had no intention of selling—was located on Axle Alley. A street in an industrial area, just out of the city, lined with businesses that catered to anything with an engine. In their teens, the local boys had dubbed Alex and Deacon’s sisters the Axle Alley Vipers. All three were beautiful, tough in their own way, and if you tried to get too close, tried to touch, they would take a bite out of you.

Jesus.
Nothing had changed.

When he got to the parking garage below his building, he saw Martin had done his job. Deacon’s car was parked behind Alex’s metallic-purple Viper, caging her in.

Her choice of car said more than he thought she realized. Playing up to that moniker, to what it meant, was just another way to keep everyone at a distance, to protect herself.

She stood against the driver’s door, arms crossed, more pissed than he’d ever seen her. Her long, shiny brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun that was sexy as hell on her, and those dark, exotic eyes had landed and stayed on him as soon as the elevator doors had opened and he’d stepped out.

His cock twitched under that intense stare.

He allowed his gaze to travel over her. Did she have any idea how stunning she was? The woman could wear a potato sack and still make his dick hard. The intricate rose tattoo decorating the upper half of her right arm drew his eye. It covered a jagged scar you could only see under a certain light, and it moved as she shoved her hands in her pockets, flexing her finely honed bicep. “This your doing?” she asked.

He kept on walking toward her. She tensed as he came closer, but he didn’t stop until he was close enough to smell her vanilla scent, hear her subtle exhale as he leaned in. “You were in my parking spot.”

Fire flashed in her eyes. “Bullshit. What about the other ten free spots?”

He shrugged. “I like this one.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “If you’re so damned attached to this one, let me out and you can have it back.”

He reached out, ran the tip of his finger along that scar. It curved around a rose petal, then joined a thorny stem. He felt her tremble. Jesus, he loved that, loved how easily he affected her. “Let’s stop playing games. This isn’t about a parking spot, and you know it.”

“I said no.” Her voice shook and her breathing quickened.

“I won’t accept that answer. Not yet.”
Not ever.
“I want you to think about it first. Really think about it. We’re good together. Tell me you’ve had better. Because I haven’t.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “You were grieving. Your perception is skewed.”

It took all his strength not to kiss her. “Yes, I was grieving. But that wasn’t the only reason we ended up in bed together, and you know it. You wanted me, and I sure as hell wanted you. Still do. It’s really as simple as that.”

And if he was wrong, if she didn’t return his feelings? He’d walk away. It would kill him to do it, but despite what he’d said to her, they both knew he’d never force her into a relationship, sexual or otherwise. Not ever.

She hugged herself. “Why are you doing this? And why now, after all this time?”

He noted she didn’t deny what he’d said, didn’t deny wanting him.
Thank fuck.
“Why have you avoided me for six months?” he asked instead of answering her.

She bit her lip. “I haven’t.”

“You’re full of it.”

“Move your damn car. We’re busy at work, and I need to get back.”

“Alex…”

“Let me go, Deke.”

Not going to happen.
He’d done it once, and it had been the biggest mistake of his life. “Is the idea of spending time with me, of sharing my bed, so distasteful?”

She shook her head. “Can you hear yourself? You’ve lost it. Jesus. Can you just stop?”

Never.
He stepped back. “For now, but I’ll be in touch soon.”

…

Alex leaned her hip against Piper’s desk and looked through the partition window out to the workshop. Monday was definitely off to a better start than Friday. She hadn’t seen or heard from Deacon over the weekend, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

“What’s happening?” Piper asked.

“She’s smiling. Our girl’s working her magic. Oh, he’s going in for the handshake.” She squeezed Piper’s shoulder. “Holy shit, I think she did it.”

Piper did a silent happy dance in her swivel chair and squealed under her breath. “Oh my God, that one job alone will pay for half the new tow truck. And he’s talking several big restorations.”

The guy turned and left, and Rusty tightened her long auburn ponytail, spun on her boot, and attempted to walk casually to the office, while grinning like a loon on the verge of busting out in a victory dance.

She walked in and shut the door behind her. All three of them turned to look out the window and watched Mr. Cannon climb into his car and drive away. As soon as his car was out of sight, they all screamed and danced around the office, laughing until tears were running down their faces.

“We did it, bitches!” Rusty flopped down, planting her ass in Piper’s chair, and pumped one of her brightly tattooed arms in the air.

“I think the long legs and nice rack can take some of the credit,” Piper said, giggling.

“Well, Rusty’s rack might have helped us get the job, but when that car drives out of here looking freaking amazing, it will be our talent that has him bringing in the next one. They’ll be moving advertisements, ladies,” Alex said.

They were at a disadvantage not being set up on South Beach, where all the established big-name car restoration businesses were, but they didn’t want to leave Axle Alley. And even if they did, SoBe was way out of their price range. Their only option was to bring the customers to them. And if the novelty of an all-female-run auto repair shop was enough to do that, they’d work it for all it was worth.

Piper grinned, all but busting out of her skin. “This is just the start of the big-money restoration work. It’s finally happening.” She grabbed Rusty’s hand and tugged her out of the chair, then pulled her and Alex in for a group hug. “I wish Dad was here to see this. He’d be so proud of us.”

They clung to each other, and Alex’s eyes started to sting. Jacob West had been like a father to her, too. She’d loved him and loved this old garage as much as Rusty and Piper did.

She hadn’t mentioned her meeting with Deacon. He obviously hadn’t told them about his plans to sell the business out from under them yet. God, she was glad she’d kept it to herself. They’d already lost their father, and they loved their brother more than anything. Losing this place would kill them.

She watched the two women who had become her family after her own was taken from her. The excitement on their faces made her chest hurt. How would she ever survive without them, without seeing them every day? Without walking into this place every morning?

In that moment she realized she’d do anything to keep what they had, to keep what they were building. Nothing was more important than these women. She owed them everything. And right then she knew what she had to do. She’d do whatever it took to keep the smiles on their faces, to never lose
this
.

Piper gave them one last squeeze. “You guys close up, and I’ll go order the pizza.” She did another dance, grabbed her bag, and headed out.

Rusty and Piper lived in a small, quirky cottage next to the garage. It was the only house left on Axle Alley and had once been owned by their grandmother. The West family had lived in it for several generations. Even after their neighbors sold and disappeared, and new commercial buildings took their place, Grandma West had refused to sell. She’d left it to her granddaughters, who were just as determined to keep it as it was, despite the constant barrage of offers they received to take it off their hands. But it didn’t matter how much the land was worth. It wasn’t for sale.

They shut up shop, and Alex headed to her apartment above the garage. After a quick shower, she pulled on her comfy jeans with all the rips and her favorite Metallica T-shirt, leaving her long hair down to dry naturally. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her phone and texted Deacon.

We need to talk. I’ll call you later.

Shoving her phone back in her pocket, she headed next door to the cottage for celebratory pizza. She refused to think about the agreement she was about to enter into, or what it would mean for her. Not yet.

When she hit the stairs to the cottage, she heard music coming from inside, laughter, and even with all this Deacon crap hanging over her head, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. She walked into the living room, and three beers sat open on the coffee table. Rusty came dancing from the kitchen, carrying a bag of potato chips and a tub of dip.

Her friend grinned. “We’re celebrating, baby. We’ll worry about the size of our asses tomorrow.”

Alex laughed. “Nothing wrong with some junk in the trunk.”

“You said it.” Rusty spun around and gave her perfect, round ass a wiggle.

Piper followed with the pizza, and they sat, ate, laughed, and made plans for the garage. Something they hadn’t done in a while, too afraid to get their hopes up, afraid they’d fail. But with business picking up, they could afford to dream again, not to mention buy extravagant things like chips and dip.

No, it didn’t matter how Alex looked at it—her decision had been made for her. There had never been any other choice. Her life here with Piper and Rusty meant
everything
to her. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose it.

Her stomach fluttered. Christ, now she just had to tell Deacon.

She chugged back the rest of her third beer, happy for the buzz and the Dutch courage, and stood. Time to make the call, get it over with before she chickened out or sobered up. “Okay. I’m heading off. We can’t make money if we’re all hungover in the morning, right?”

The other two groaned. “All right, but this Friday, it’s girls’ night. We’re going out, and we’re gonna drink too much and shake it on the dance floor,” Rusty said, then downed the rest of her beer.

Weekend plans made, Alex left the cottage and crossed the parking lot to her place. It was dark out, and she almost missed the silver Mercedes S 600 parked behind the garage. Almost.

Her step faltered when the door opened and Deke stepped out. He wore dark jeans and a long-sleeved black thermal top that clung to his upper body and made her mouth water. She could see his abs defined through the thin fabric, and it took a huge amount of effort to look away.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

She was fuzzy from the beers and couldn’t muster the energy to be pissed. “Why didn’t you come next door?”

“I don’t really think this conversation is something you want Piper or Rusty to hear, no?”

No, it isn’t.

“Hop in.” He held the car door open for her.

She bit her lip. “I told you I was going to call you.”

“I decided whatever you have to say, I’d rather hear it in person.”

She noticed he kept darting glances at the garage. He looked almost uneasy. Was it painful for him to be here? Yes, she’d avoided Deacon these last few months, but it hadn’t been all that hard. He’d barely set foot here since his father’s death. All she’d had to do was ignore his calls and texts and make her excuses if she knew Deacon might be at whatever get-together or dinner her friends invited her to.

Maybe there was more to his absence than she’d first thought. She shook her head. “I’d rather do this upstairs.”