Authors: Tonya Burrows
Tags: #Ignite, #Contemporary Fiction, #Wilde Security, #Romantic Suspense, #best friend little sister, #Contemporary, #blackmail, #Romance, #Suspense, #Entangled, #opposites, #Military, #sexy, #sex, #Tonya Burrows, #Literature & Fiction
The big tattooed man guarding the side door grinned toothily when he saw her coming. “Hey, baby doll. Look at you, all dressed up. What you been up to?”
“Oh, you know, Eddy. Same old, same old. Getting in trouble. Getting married.” She held up their interlaced hands. “Think you can let a couple of newlyweds sneak in?”
Eddy’s wide face lit up. “You got yourself married, baby doll? Well, didn’t see
that
coming.” He stepped aside, waved them in, and handed Shelby a card. “Go on. And give Meg at the bar this, tell her I says your drinks are on the house tonight. Wedding present.”
“Thank you, Eddy. You’re the best.” She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, then pulled Reece into the crush of light and sound and people. It was blinding, disorienting, but Shelby seemed to know how to navigate it, so he followed her lead to the bar. She had to lean over the polished metal surface and shout to be heard, but Meg the bartender seemed to understand what she was saying just fine. Meg took the card and disappeared, returning a moment later with two tall glasses of neon-blue liquid.
Reece choked out a laugh when Shelby handed it to him. “What the fuck is this?”
“I don’t know. I told her to make us something yummy and strong. To spontaneity.” She clinked her glass to his. “Cheers.”
He had to admit, the concoction was “yummy,” as Shelby had called it. Fruity, but with a kick to it. Before he knew it, his glass was gone and there was a pleasant buzz inside his head. He was enjoying himself and liked watching Shelby relax into her own skin. She had a smile for everyone she ran in to, even if she didn’t know them.
A fast, infectious beat started and Shelby grabbed his hand, dragging him out onto the dance floor, which was packed with people. She melted into the beat, eyes closed, hips swinging, hands in the air, and the sight of her throwing herself so completely into the music reminded him of when he was young and his parents used to dance together across the kitchen. They’d been so in tune with the music, with each other, and even as a child, he’d known he was witnessing something beautiful.
He was witnessing something beautiful now, too.
Shelby laughed and grabbed hold of his shoulders, wiggling them. “Loosen up, Reece! Dance!”
He hadn’t danced since his parents died. And, dammit, they had both loved to dance. Together, apart. It hadn’t mattered. If there was music playing, David and Meredith Wilde had been dancing.
What a way to not honor their memory.
Reece swayed a bit on his feet, but he felt awkward and foolish. No way was he getting his hips or arms involved in this disaster. He’d end up looking like one of those inflatable arm-flailing tube men and scare Shelby right into an annulment.
She moved in close and tugged on his bowtie until it fell loose. Having her so close, moving like she was, sparked a blaze inside him. He needed to touch her, skin to skin, and circled his hands around her hips, found himself moving with her. His heart kept time with the beat and he lowered his head, inten
ding to kiss her—
The music screeched to a halt, and the room plunged into darkness, only to be relit by the eerie purple glow of black lights.
Shelby smiled up at him. “Here it comes.”
“What?”
Something like a cannon fired, and the music exploded back to life as neon glow-in-the-dark paint rained down over the thrilled crowd.
Shelby laughed and tilted her head back, letting the paint splash across her face and chest. She should have looked out of place in her gown, with her hair piled on top of her head in an elegant twist, as paint rained down on her—but she didn’t. She looked more like Shelby now, covered in streaks of neon green and pink and purple, than she had since they left Vegas. And that, more than anything else, made him feel like a complete ass for asking her to change. All of the color and brightness that made up the core of her being
belonged
on her clothes, in her hair, and written on her skin in ink.
Reece snaked a hand around the back of her neck, crushed her to him, and captured her mouth. She yielded to the domination of his lips and together they moved to the beat of the music. He didn’t hear cannons spew more paint or the shouts of joy as it rained down. He didn’t worry about looking stupid or about the bridges he’d burned tonight. Everything else faded away as his world narrowed to her.
And they danced.
I
t was late by the time they returned home, laughing and covered in dried paint. Shelby started stripping as soon as she set foot in the apartment, suggestively sliding one strap of her dress off her shoulder, then the other…
Dumbstruck and a
little drunk, Reece watched her striptease, the way the sleek fabric caressed her body as she let it slide down to pool around her waist.
She turned to him, crooked a finger. “I think we need a shower, don’t you?”
Oh, yeah. They definitely, absolutely, without a doubt needed a shower.
He made sure the door was locked and reached to pull off his bowtie, only to discover he’d lost it somewhere during the night. Fine by him. One less article of clothing between him and the woman he wanted more than he wanted his next breath. He wasn’t careful with his vest or shirt, popping buttons as he fumbled to get them off. Shelby laughed and whirled around like she intended to race him, but only made it a few steps before skidding to a halt in the still torn-apart living room.
She crumpled to the floor as if the weight of the night had finally gotten too heavy to hold on her shoulders. Three long strides had him by her side and scooping her into his arms.
She curled into him. “I almost forgot.”
“We are forgetting it, okay? Just until tomorrow. Tonight was too good to end it on a sad note.” He carried her into the master bathroom and started the shower, setting her down under the warm spray. Fuck. He was still in his pants. He left the shower again long enough to strip and grab a washcloth from the
linen closet. When he returned, she still hadn’t moved.
This wasn’t what he’d wanted. The whole point of taking her to a club had been to forget about the rest of the night. Stupid man that he was, he hadn’t even considered how she’d feel to return home to the mess her mother had made. Should have called one of his brothers to come over and straighten things while they were gone.
With his heart breaking for her, he soaped up the washcloth and ran it down her arm. Layers of paint and the makeup obscuring her tattoos washed away, and he reveled in each new inch of ink he uncovered. He smoothed his lips in the wake of the cloth, over the flowers and dragon crawling up her arm. He kissed each of the colorful birds taking flight on her collarbones. They were perfect representations of Shelby—bright, unrestrained, and full of vitality.
He straightened and stared down into her eyes, combing her wet hair back with his fingers. “I don’t ever want you to cover these up again.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled over to mingle with the shower water already sprinkling her face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin you—”
“You can’t.” He cradled her face in his hands. “Listen, Shelby, you
can’t
ruin me. How could you? I’m a better person with you.”
Her breath hitched. “But all of your friends—”
“Fuck them. They’re not my friends. They’re all uptight, snobby assholes, and I want nothing more to do with them.
You
are more important to me than maintaining whatever unattainable status quo they’ve set. I’m in love with you.”
“Oh no.” Sobbing openly now, she broke away from him and covered her face with both hands. “Oh, Reece, you can’t be. You
can’t
be. You have no idea what I’ve done…”
“I don’t care.”
“You have to care.”
“Sweetheart…” How to make her understand? He was under no illusions—he knew her past wasn’t pretty. But tonight, as he’d watched her crumple under the scrutiny of his contemporaries, then rebuild herself while dancing covered in splatter paint, he’d realized her past didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because the future was what mattered, and they could build an amazing one together. More than that, he
wanted
a future with her. He loved the color and unpredictability she brought into his life.
But he saw that he wasn’t going to convince her of it right now. No matter what he said, she wasn’t going to believe him.
He pulled her into his arms again, smoothing a hand over her hair and back. The water had run cool and goose bumps roughened her skin, tremors racing just underneath. “Let’s go to bed.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “You mean the same bed?”
“Yeah. The same bed.” He wasn’t about to give her a chance to protest and scooped her into his arms again. But she didn’t seem to be in a protesting mood, which was troubling. Shelby always had a comeback ready. Her sharp tongue was one of the things he loved about her.
He deposited her on the counter by the sink and opened the linen closet for a towel to warm her up. She’d gone pale, and he didn’t like the glassy, shell-shocked look in her eyes, but who could blame her? Although it had ended on a high note, the rest of the day had been one devastating blow after another. She had the right to a bit of distress. He wrapped her in the biggest towel he owned and briskly rubbed her arms until some color returned to her cheeks.
She finally stirred, pushing him away. “I can do it myself.”
“Okay.” Reece went back for a second towel, silently cursing as he dried himself with a lot less care. He’d bungled the whole I-love-you thing. He knew it, didn’t know how to fix it, and that bugged the hell out of him. He was good at fixing things, but this was completely uncharted territory for him.
Reece discarded his towel in the laundry basket and turned to see Shelby had hopped down from the counter. The towel now wrapped around her was as big as a dress, swallowing her up in folds of terry cloth. She always seemed bigger than life to him, and he often forgot how petite she truly was until a moment like this came along and smacked him with the realization.
Someone could so easily hurt her.
Someone had already tried to. Multiple times.
He swallowed the growing lump of dread in his throat. No matter how things shook out between them, tomorrow he was going to put an end to her problems. He wanted her safe and, if The Headhunters wanted money, he’d pay them every dollar in his bank account to keep her that way.
She stared across the bathroom at him as if she wasn’t sure what to say. She even opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.
He wished he knew how to reach her, but the gap opening between them was more than the few feet of physical space separating them. She was on guard now, closing down, shutting him out.
“Shelby,” he began and stalled. Last thing he wanted was to spook her more than she already was. “Don’t feel pressured. If you’re not comfortable sharing my bed, I won’t make you.”
She pressed her lips together in a thin line and hugged the towel tighter around her. “Why?” she blurted after another long silence.
“Because I’m not a complete asshole. Despite recent evidence to the contrary.”
She rolled her eyes, a hint of that old Shelby spark. “No. Why do you think you love me?”
“Why do you think I don’t?”
Uncertain again, she picked at a loose thread on the towel. “Nobody’s ever said those words to me before. I didn’t think anyone could.”
His heart cracked. “Jesus. You think you’re unlovable.”
She breathed out in a soft, tear-choked laugh. “I think you’d have to be crazy to love me, and you’re not crazy, Reece Wilde. Not even a little bit.”
Fuck this awkwardness. He strode forward and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tight. “You’ve been hurt. I believe in ways I don’t—can’t—understand because before my parents—” He stopped, had to clear away the sudden roughness in this throat. “I came from a good, strong family with a solid foundation. I know what love looks like, feels like, and I know it’s what I feel for you. I also know it scares you because it’s not something you’ve had a lot of experience with.”
Her breath shuddered out, hot against his bare chest. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? I-I need to sleep.”
“Okay.” He schooled his features to keep his disappointment from showing and dropped his arms to his sides. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“Wait.” She captured his hand before he turned away. “Your bed. Please. I’d like to stay in your bed with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
A
phone’s buzzing woke Reece from a dreamless sleep. Text message. Had to be because the vibration stopped a half second later. Shelby was still in bed with him, wrapped around him with her head resting on his chest. Surprising. He’d half expected her to slink back to her room after he fell asleep.
He liked waking up like this, with her hair tickling his neck and his arm numb from cradling her all night long. All mornings should start like this.
He craned his neck to see her face. She was still sound asleep, completely relaxed. She looked fragile and, although he knew she was anything but, a fierce protectiveness heated his blood.
He’d keep her safe.
Which meant he had to see who that text was from. Hopefully Greer finally coming back from wherever he’d ghosted off to.
Reece stretched for the phone on the nightstand, doing his best not to disturb Shelby, and rubbed his eyes with one hand before pulling the phone close to his nose. Damn, even though he’d worn glasses since he was five, he still hated not being able to see like a normal person. Maybe Vaughn had a point about getting laser surgery to fix his eyesight.
He rubbed his eyes again and squinted. Yeah, not Greer. Cam.
Have news about fires. Get to WS office asap.
And time to go back to work. For once, he’d rather not. His bed was warm and comfortable, especially with his woman curled up beside him. He lingered a few minutes longer, playing with a strand of her hair as he convinced himself he had to get up, then finally kissed her forehead and slid out of bed.
She stirred and lifted her head, blinking up at him with sleepy eyes. He loved seeing her like this, all soft and sexy, cozy in his bed.