“You were right.” She looks up. Her eyes glow like cinnamon. “Does everyone know?” She’s searching me for some deeper answer. Demi didn’t have it in her to ask the proper question. What she really wants to know is if everyone is up on what she does for a living. Hell, I don’t want to believe it, but—I cast a glance around—the evidence is surmounting.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say.
“No, that’s fine. It’s the truth.”
“I needed to get you home. I thought maybe the truth was the quickest way. Warren and Ace helped track you down.” I rub her back, smooth as porcelain. “Nobody is judging you. Everyone just wants to see you back in Loveless, safe, happy, and home with me.” I press my lips to her forehead and keep them there, hoping, in some way, to hear her thoughts on the matter.
Her chest expands with her next breath.
“Is that a yes?”
“That’s a maybe.”
“Maybe sounds an awful lot like yes to me.” My heart claps against her chest as if it’s trying to offer up an applause. I’d like nothing more than to carry her to my truck and speed all the way to Loveless.
“It’s contingent on what you’ll feel,” she whispers. “You know, after.”
“After you tell me what has you running scared?”
She gives a quiet nod. “Tomorrow.” Her lips inch up to mine. “Tonight, I don’t want to go there. She reaches down and cups my balls ever so gently. “I want to go here.” She pecks a kiss on my neck. “And here.” Her lips ride lower to my chest. “And please, God, right here.”
Needless to say, I approve of her travel plans.
8
The Story of a Girl
Demi
A seam of sunlight warms my lids as I curl into a rock hard body. My eyes spring wide, and I hitch a breath before memories of last night come flooding back—Gavin and me locked in lust until just a few short hours ago. Gavin’s body has its own gravity. I was pulled to him, falling toward him, rising up to meet him every blissful minute. I lean my head into the crook of his arm and give a heartfelt moan. His skin holds a heady combination of night musk and sex.
“Morning, sunshine.” Gavin dots a kiss over my head, and I warm at hearing the nickname my father once had for me. “I wanted to make you breakfast, but thought I might get tossed out by security. How about I take you out for a bite?”
“Maybe later.”
“God, I’ve missed you.” His lips find mine, hard and needy. My chest jumps in my throat because I hate myself for what I’ve done to us.
“I’ve missed you more than words can say.”
I twist in his arms to get a better look at this sex god that put all the other boys I’ve ever been with to shame. Gavin is no boy—he’s all man, and he spent hours last night driving that point straight into my body. His cheeks are peppered with just the right amount of scruff, and my insides pinch at the sight. His eyes are slightly glassy with a hint of lust that wasn’t quite extinguished. His smile expands and makes him look that much more achingly delicious. My eyes ride over his bare chest, right down to the sharp muscular V at the base of his hips, to the caramel hair that trails from his belly button to a perfect pool of curls. His hard-on is already there to greet me with its cut ridges, its pulsing cords on either side. Even his cock is exceptional. This man is fucking hot. And more than any of those unbelievably good things, he loves me, and I love him back.
The sunlight streams through the window testifying to the fact this is all real. It really did happen just the way I imagined last night.
I bear into his sea-blue eyes, and I can feel the words wanting to bubble from my throat, so I let them.
“I love you.” My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. I’m not hiding my feelings anymore under a veil of darkness. This is face to face—my love for him alive and bright in every single way.
The edges of his lips rise. His eyes smile, and I melt my chest to his. Gavin has me with the slightest inflection.
“I love you, too, Demi.” He presses his lips to mine. “Thank you for that. I can die a happy man just hearing you say those words.”
My stomach clenches because I happen to believe I have some bumbling authority when it comes to arranging other people’s deaths. Josh and Nora whip through my mind—too bad I keep killing all the wrong people.
“How much did Reeva charge you?” I’m quick to jump lanes. Death never was my favorite subject. A lump swells in my throat at the horror of what his answer might be.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He leans in and dots butter-soft kisses to my temple, and my entire body sways like sea grass. I want to forget about Reeva, about monetary exchanges, but I can’t.
“Gavin”—my voice shakes—“she didn’t charge you some ridiculous amount, did she?” My cheeks flood with heat because this isn’t exactly the conversation I want to be having with the first man I ever said I love you to.
His hand slips down my thigh. “You’re the love of my life, Demi.” He lands his smiling lips over mine and pulls back with a sad, drugged look in his eyes. “You’re worth everything I own. I would have sold my soul if she asked me to.” He relaxes beneath me.
“She’s going to tell me. All I have to do is ask.” I tickle his chin with my finger. “Was it five hundred?”
That’s the lowest I’ve ever heard Reeva ask for the night. She knew who Gavin was when she sent him up, and she didn’t tell me. How could she? I hold back a laugh because I can practically hear her answer. How couldn’t she?
Gavin picks up my hand and proceeds to nibble on my fingers. “I’m not going there. Let’s just say I did what I had to do.” He swipes a kiss off my lips. “Look where it landed us?” He gives a devilish grin. His fingers settle over my bottom, and he gives a squeeze. Usually I’m not immune to his charm, but right now I’m stuck on the idea of him spending far too many US dollars on me.
The nice, round number Reeva pumped out of her mouth yesterday comes back to haunt me. She mentioned fat wallets were coming, and I know for a fact Gavin’s wallet is very, very thin. Maybe the fat wallets were dispersed elsewhere and Gavin rescued me from sleeping with some wealthy investor?
Gavin moves his kisses to my chest and starts loving the girls in turn.
A thought comes to me. What if there were no wealthy clients? What if Reeva managed to hook a hose up to Gavin’s bank account to the tune of fifteen thousand dollars? Wait, Gavin doesn’t have that kind of money. All he has is his truck, the cabin, his business…
“Oh, God.” I feel sick just thinking about which direction this heartache is about to venture.
Gavin grazes his teeth over me a little harder in response to my cry.
“Gavin.” I jump to my knees and gently slap his face to pull him out of my boob-inspired stupor. “Look at me.” His eyes slowly rise to meet mine.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I scoot in close and pull him up until we’re face to face. “Did Reeva ask you to pay some ridiculous amount of money last night?”
He lets out a groan and arches his head back. “This is old news, Demi.”
“Was it fifteen thousand dollars?” My ears throb with a heartbeat of their own. My head threatens to explode.
“No.” He flat lines.
“Oh, thank God.” I melt into him, collapsing my arms around his neck.
“It was twenty.” A quick smile blinks across his face.
“Twenty?” A quivering laugh escapes me. “You let me get all worked up over twenty measly dollars?” I swat him just as his expression darkens. “Okay, so I agree I’m worth more.”
He tilts his head, and his eyes narrow a bit as if I didn’t quite get the picture.
“Gavin—” I can’t finish the thought. He sags a little looking guilty as sin. “It wasn’t twenty, was it?”
His brows rise in amusement. “It was twenty all right.”
“Okay, I’ll take you to lunch. My treat. We’ll call it even.” I say
each word as if it were it’s own sentence because I refuse to believe what I think he’s trying to tell me.
“Sounds good.” He pulls my knees over his chest until I’m sitting on him. “Now let’s move onto something more gratifying than money.” His fingers curve inside my thighs and give that intimate part of me a tickle, but I still feel unsettled.
“It wasn’t twenty dollars, was it Gavin?” I lean back, despondent at the thought. Reeva mentioned that I’d make twenty thousand dollars last night, five more than I needed. Crap. “It was twenty thousand.” I don’t move a muscle, simply glance down at him with my face still pointed at the ceiling.
His eyes close. His head presses into the pillow as he takes a deep breath.
“Where did you get twenty thousand dollars?” I whisper the words like a ventriloquist.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.” I bounce off him. “It matters to me, Gavin. Did you borrow it?”
“I did. It’s a loan. I intend to pay back every dime.” He’s bored with this conversation, bordering on angry, and, normally, I’d be thrilled with how this adds to his comeliness but I’m too panicked to enjoy this vexingly sexier version.
“Did you hock the cabin?” First I kill his parents, then I cause their only son to risk losing their humble home. I’m a tornado whipping through life, built to destroy.
“No.” His eyes electrify. His jaw tightens. I must be getting close.
“You sold your truck.” He could have borrowed Ace’s truck to get here. Hell, he could have hitched a ride, or flew in on his sister’s broom.
“She’s still mine.”
“The boathouse?”
He shakes his head just barely.
“Oh, my God.” I crawl off the bed, as far away from Gavin Jackson as humanly possible. “It was the business, wasn’t it?”
Gavin slumps against the headboard as soon as it leaves my lips.
“No, no, no!” The words shrill through me as I glide down the cool wall, landing in a ball on the floor.
Gavin scoops me up and holds me there as the tears pour from me like a flash flood.
I pound my fist against his chest, weak, too broken to move.
“Why?” I cry out toward the window as if God himself could hear.
“It’s okay.” Gavin rocks me while warming my shoulders, covering me with his discarded T-shirt from last night. “I gave it to Warren. He’s letting me stay on. It’ll feel just like it’s mine. It’s a sacrifice, but I promise, you’re worth it. I would give him the business every day of the week just to have you in my arms again.”
“Call him right now.” I hiccup through tears. “Tell him you’ll pay him back this afternoon.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Gavin slips the loose hair behind my ear as he buries his gaze in mine. “Reeva mentioned you needed it—that she was going to help make sure it got to where it needed to be. There’s no way I’m taking a dime back until you get out of whatever trouble you’re in.”
“Shit.” I knock my head against his chest.
He pulls me up and touches his lips to mine, but he means business.
“Tell me everything, Demi. I’m ready to slay giants for you, and I can’t do that if I don’t know what or who I’m up against.” His features harden. Gavin is ready to fill his sling with a stone and bring down Goliath for me. “Tell me, Demi. What the fuck am I up against?”
Gavin wants the truth—all of it.
“You are going to get every last detail. And then you won’t be able to stand the sight of me.” I let out a sigh and pull him to his feet. “But first, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you.”
It’s time to lay it all out in grand style. If Gavin and I are going down, we might as well go down in a blaze of fiery glory.
Gavin
The sky stretches out overhead like a crisp, white sheet. There’s an oppressive heat thickening the air, and even the AC in my truck is no match for its oven-like aggression. Demi and I showered and dressed. She introduced me formally to Reeva before running me the hell out of that place. She didn’t pack a single bag, so I’m still not sure where we stand. We left her car back there. I’m not in a hurry to reunite her with it, either.
“So what’s in Brody?”
Demi said she’d tell me everything, but that she had to show me something first. The next thing out of those perfect lips was take me to Brody.
“You’ll see.” Her demeanor darkens with every passing mile.
Brody isn’t known for a lot. There’s a steel mill on the losing end of town and not much else. Tucked on the hill to the left there’s Hayworth, a sleepy town with a net worth that puts all of Loveless to shame. If Hayworth were a colossal mansion, Loveless would be a tent under a bridge. Although, I know for a fact several Hayworth residents have a summerhouse at the lake. They rent them out during the winter, and I stock the firewood. At least I used to. There’s no telling what kind of bullshit deal I got myself wrapped up in. If I had more time, I would have had Reese’s father write something up. He and Warren’s dad are law partners. Apparently damn good ones.
I follow the road that bisects through town all the way to the end and pull over in a dirt field that overlooks the massive sprawl of the mill. A gargantuan sign, about two houses long, reads Brookhurst Steel. I kill the engine and slip down in my seat a notch, waiting for the hammer to fall. Demi is certain I’m going to hate her, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why.
“How did you know exactly where to go, cowboy?” Demi flicks the scruff on my cheek as if she’s flirting. “Come on.” She nods for me to follow her out, and I do.
The sun squats over our heads and shits fire. I glance back in the truck for a ball cap, at the very least for Demi, but I’m currently deficient. I’m worried we both might pass out. It’s one of those triple digit days that makes me long for fall.
Demi walks around front and points to a series of boulders near the truck.
“Give me your hand,” she says it with a smile, and I find it odd she’s so glad to be hiking through mustard weeds as tall as she is.
This isn’t making sense, but I’m with Demi, so to hell with it. I run right alongside her and help her up as we climb the blue granite wall all the way to the top. She cups her hands over her eyes and stares out at the steel mill, wide as it is long with its skeletal ladders, its wide, piped tubing, large enough to fit a grown man inside. There’s a smokestack spewing out friendly cloud-like puffs and bundles of shiny metal stacked near an open gate, neat as three balls of yarn.
“It’s beautiful.” Demi is breathless as she drinks it all in.
“It’s—nice, I guess?” I spin her toward me until her smiling face is looking up at mine. “Either you’re extremely easy to please, or you have an unnatural attraction to steel.”
Her back trembles with a laugh. “My name is Demitria Brookhurst. It’s very nice to finally meet you, properly, Mr. Jackson.”
I turn my ear to her as if I didn’t quite catch it. The sign over her shoulder, reading Brookhurst Steel, glares as if it’s sending a signal into space.
“You’re a Brookhurst?”
“The only surviving member.” She catches my gaze as the stone beneath us radiates an invisible fire. “Let’s take a walk.” We hop down and head over to the protective shelter of a hundred-year-old oak with its low hanging arms stretched out to greet us.
I press down on the lowest hanging bough, no higher than four feet off the ground, and help Demi up first.
“Shoot,” I say, not really sure of where she might go next. Demi is full of twists and turns that I couldn’t understand if I had a roadmap.
Demi sits about a foot away. Her hand clutches onto mine as if it were the very last time, and I’m sure she’s convinced herself it is.
“After my mother died”—she drops her gaze to the dried stubble below—“my father raised me all on his own. He took me on every business trip he could. We
spent summers in Europe. I celebrated my tenth birthday eating French fries and crepes in Paris.” Her lips purse at the memory. “He came to every recital, every play I was in. He never missed a parent-teacher meeting.” She swallows hard as if the story is about to take an abrupt turn. I know how it ends—the same way the story with my family ends. “He dated Nora for such a short time, I couldn’t take them seriously when they said there would be a wedding. But there was one. Nora and Josh entered our world, and nothing was ever the same. She wanted more of him than he could give, but my father wanted to please her. He begged me to understand his sudden absence in my life and assured me it wouldn’t always be that way.” She looks up slightly pissed. “He was right. Nora not only took up a bulk of his time, she didn’t mind spending his money. Her ex didn’t leave her and Josh with much, which explains why she was liberal with the credit cards. Soon the house was filled with enough jewels to make Van Cleef and Arpels emerald green with envy. You could line the walls with all the dead animal carcasses she dragged in. Both PETA and I wanted to lynch her. My mother never owned a fur.” Demi sighs. “Nora just seemed to take everything too far—so did Josh,” she bleeds those last few words out. “Anyway—the day my father died was just an ordinary Tuesday. Nora was coming down on me like hellfire, and he was about to leave on another business trip. When my father was away she did terrible things, Gavin.” Her voice grows cold and hollow. “She did things you should never do to another person.” I wrap my arm around her and pull her in tight. “My father was oblivious. For whatever reason, he loved her. I missed him even when he was alive. That night—it was hours before he was set to drive to New York for a big meeting—I looked right at him and said if you love me like you say you do, you’ll take me with you.” Her shoulders sag. Her voice is thick with regret. “He was adamant that I not go. So, being an immature fifteen-year-old, I pulled the brat card. I told him if he loved me, he would take me to dinner at my favorite restaurant. I wanted a deep-dish pizza from Pitones. It was late, and he insisted I stay home. He wanted to treat me like a princess one last time before he left.” She shakes her head at the thought. “Come here. You’ll want to be on solid ground to hear what comes next.” She carefully leaps down and takes me with her. “Gavin, my father died on March 11th. Does that sound familiar to you?”