Dirty Secret: A Bad Boy Romance (Bluefield Bad Boys Book 3)
The moon was playing chase with the waves. Its glow rolled along with crests until they reached the shore, where the moonlight disappeared and was swallowed up by the shadows of night.
“Most of the time, you’re not thinking about it,” he continued, and it seemed it had been something he’d wanted to talk about, to get off his chest. “You just do your work and get to the end of the day. It’s the easiest way—not giving it much thought. But sometimes shit happens, a rock fall or explosion in one of the bleeder entries, and you’re reminded that there might be a day when that morning’s sunrise was the last you’ll ever see.”
I reached for his hand, and his strong fingers curled around mine. I wasn’t completely sure what had prompted me to do it. It might have been his last few words and the raw somber sound of his deep voice when he spoke them. But, like on the plane, when I’d thrown my legs across his lap, I just wanted to be touching Dawson. He was most definitely the kind of guy you wanted to touch when he was near. His grip felt powerful, confident, protective. I liked it. I liked him, and I hadn’t thought that about many people lately.
I pushed my hand back and forth so that our arms swung together, like a couple walking casually on the beach. “What about Bluefield? What’s it like there?”
His eyes looked darker under the moonlight as he peered over at me with a faint smile.
“What?” I asked.
“It’s nothing, except you keep asking questions about my dull-ass life when I should be asking you. You’re the one who is living the dream, traveling the world, hanging with the rich and famous.”
The tide rolled in quickly. Dawson’s reflexes were faster than mine. He released my hand, scooped his arm around my waist and lifted me away from the frothy water. His arm lingered longer than necessary before he pulled it away.
“Quick thinking.” I took hold of his hand again. “My life—” I thought about it. “The best, most memorable moments are like right now, when we’re not getting ready for a concert and we’re not working or doing press interviews or other appearances. Times like this, walking with a new friend on the beach as if none of that other stuff exists, those are the moments I live for. The rest is just a crazy-ass whirlwind of people and places. Sometimes it’s exciting or interesting, but most of the time, it’s just crazy.”
“Then I will learn to be more satisfied with my dismal, average, everyday existence. What about your parents and your hometown?”
A white shell glistened in the sand. I let go of his hand long enough to pick it up. The buried half was broken. I tossed it into the water. “I’m not really supposed to talk about my childhood.”
“Why is that? Seems kind of hard to not ever talk about your time as a kid. That’s where most of the fun stuff happens. Isn’t it?”
“Not for me.” I stared down at the sand as our feet pressed the wetness from it for a brief second with each step. The current had carved out a line that ran along the beach, separating the wet sand from the dry. Not ever talking about my childhood had caused all of it, the whole ugly string of memories that’d caked up like layers of dried cement in my chest. Dawson had fallen quiet as if he worried that he’d asked the wrong question.
“Didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s a perfectly legitimate question, especially with the Miss Nosy Pants questions I’ve been asking.” I took a breath. I couldn’t remember ever telling the story about my mom to anyone, except Graham. Only Graham knew everything. Even Brick, who I’d been close to, had never cared enough to ask about my family. “It had been just me and my mom. She had me when she was only seventeen. She struggled with life and survival. There were some good times when she had a job and we had enough extra to buy some cookies and lemonade. We’d have a tea party with the toy tea set she found at a thrift store. But aside from the few bright spots, there were a lot of dark ones.”
I stopped and released his hand to wrap my arms around myself. It was getting late, and I needed to go back to the motel and get the skateboard. I turned around and he followed, understanding that as my cue to head back. But he stayed quiet to let me finish. And now that I’d started, I needed to tell the rest. It felt good to tell it to someone, especially someone like Dawson, who seemed to live a solid, honest and hard life. He wouldn’t judge or feel sorry for me.
We started the hike back to the motel. “I remember it was drizzling outside, and the landlord had shoved an eviction notice under the apartment door. I was only six and didn’t know what the yellow paper meant, but my mom told me we’d be moving . . . again. After that, she disappeared into the bathroom. I didn’t know what the medicine was then, but now, I know she had a heroin addiction. I just remember sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. I had a subtraction coloring page from school. It was Jack o’ lanterns in a pumpkin patch. I was concentrating hard on keeping in the lines, convinced that if I did a really great job, it would make my mom smile. She had this really amazing smile. She stumbled out of the bathroom and dropped onto the couch. I just kept coloring. The orange crayon was down to the nub, but I kept coloring making those pumpkins darker. I knew there was something wrong. Even at that age, I knew something had happened. She was sleeping so tight, not moving, like someone had just painted a picture of her on the couch. But I kept coloring, afraid to look up. Then her hand fell off the couch and bounced on the coffee table in front of me. It looked like the rubber hand of a doll.” I swallowed back a sob. It was hard to talk. Dawson was a good listener. He waited for me to finish without a word. I had no idea why I was telling this story now, but it seemed I’d found the right person to tell it to.
I wiped discretely at a tear and a terrible sounding laugh came out. “We didn’t even have a phone. I had to knock on the grumpy landlord’s door to ask him to call for help. A lot of fire trucks and police cars and people in blue uniforms swarmed our crummy little apartment, but there wasn’t anything they could do. They carried me out before they took her away. I just remember screaming and clawing at the police officer’s shoulder trying to get back to my mom.”
We walked in silence for a few hundred feet before Dawson spoke. “A lot of people who have it tough like that, hell, that’s not even a word for it. Impossible. You had an impossible start to life, but look at you. You’re this incredible person, a person who everyone admires so much you have to walk around with your own personal bodyguard. Not many people make it big after something like that.”
I took a deep, wavering breath. I could taste the ocean brine in my throat. “Believe me, I didn’t go straight up to fame and fortune. My life still went south for a long time after my mom’s death. I hit rock bottom long before Graham found me.”
We reached the strand of beach in front of his motel. “I am so bummed that I have to go back already.” I turned and lifted my face to his. His face was dark and dreamy under the moonlight. It was a face I would never tire of looking at. “Thank you for listening to my tale of woe. I don’t ever talk about it. It was kind of nice to let it flow for a change.”
“Anytime, Lenix.”
We gazed at each other for a long moment. Then his big hands took hold of my face and he kissed me. It was a sweet, tender kiss. He stopped it before it moved onto something deeper. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I just thought you looked as if you needed to be kissed. Or maybe I needed it. And to be honest, I’m not at all sorry. It was—”
Before he could finish, I jumped up and threw my arms around his neck. His mouth covered mine and sweet and tender blew away with the sea breeze. His kiss deepened and my body softened against his. He wrapped his arms around me, and it seemed he had to restrain himself to keep from crushing me. My head felt light, and the stars above were a glittering swirl of gold. I could barely catch my breath.
He held me tight as I reached up and caressed the black stubble on his jaw. “That confirms my theory.” The words just floated out from my lips.
“What theory is that?”
“When I first saw you I thought I’l
l bet that guy can kiss like a trip to the moon.”
He laughed and dropped his heavy arm around my shoulder as we walked back to his room.
“You sure you have to go back already? I thought pixies got to stay out long past the witching hour.”
“Really?”
“Actually, I don’t know a thing about pixies. Just thought I’d give it a shot.”
“I wish I could stay. I’m just assuming that since I don’t see police cars or search helicopters down at that side of the cove, they don’t even know I’m gone yet.”
I followed him inside. He watched as I walked over to pick up the skateboard. “I’d kiss you again,” he said, “but I’m pretty damn sure I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started. So . . . I guess this is good night. Will I see you again?”
I stared down at the skateboard in my hand. Duff had covered it with the band logo, a cake carved in ice. “I’m not sure.”
Dawson nodded. “Well, at least I can die happy knowing that I kissed Lenix Harlow.” He said it with humor, but there was a lonely edge around it.
“And I can die happy knowing that Dawson Sullivan kissed me in California under a late summer moon while I was wearing a beanie and scarf. Later, my hot coal mining friend.” I straightened the scarf around my neck and walked out.
The skateboard ride home seemed arduous and long. Or maybe it was tearing myself away from Dawson that had made it seem endless. With the hundreds, even thousands of people I’d met and the few I’d dated in the last five years, Dawson had been the first who I’d found it hard to walk away from. There was nothing fake or pretentious about him. He was genuine, and he didn’t have to work at it.
Graham’s agitated voice stuttered around the corner as I placed the skateboard back on the porch. His mouth dropped open in surprise when he saw me. “Where the fuck have you been? Axel and the guys are out driving around looking for you. I was just about to call the police.”
I’d prepared for this scenario. I shrugged my shoulders. “You guys are a bunch of nervous mother hens. I was sitting right out there on the sand.”
“The hell you were. I looked out there.”
“How far?”
Graham’s face tended to turn a purplish red when he was pissed. He was definitely heading toward shades of violet. “What?”
I waved my hand out toward the sand. “How far? I was down by the water. We are at the beach, remember? Since you won’t let me wander out there in daylight, I figured I could steal out there under the cloak of night.” I waved the end of the scarf and pointed to the beanie. “I even wore a disguise.” I went to slip past him, but his arm shot out to block me.
For a long time, I’d felt extremely grateful to Graham for taking me out of a dismal, directionless life and giving me incredible opportunity. But his power over me, his greed, his callous attitude about my feelings were beginning to overshadow all the good that he had done. Slowly, the old friend, the man who for a long time was my only family, seemed to be slipping away. And I didn’t like the person who was stepping in as a replacement.
His matching brown moustache and brows twitched together in a rage filled dance as he looked at me. “I won’t let you sabotage what we’ve built here, Lenix. I pulled you from the gutter, and I can push you right back into it with one swift kick.”
I stared back at him, the man who was slowly becoming a stranger to me. “My God, that’s all I am to you, isn’t it? A fucking piece of garbage that you can discard with ease. You know what might have been nice? If you had been looking frantically for me because you were worried about my safety. But the only thing going through your greed soaked mind was—who will make me my millions if Lenix is gone?” His eyes flickered with something that might have been scruples or regret. Or it might just have been the dim lighting over the porch.
I pushed his arm out of the way and hurried up to my bedroom.
Chapter 13
Dawson
I flipped through the basic cable channels for two hours and managed to finish five more beers before deciding to climb into bed. My sisters had apparently figured I was with a girl, and they hadn’t come by or even texted for the rest of the night. Which was fine by me.
I’d been nearly knocked on my ass when Lenix showed up at the motel. Spending time with her, even if it was only an hour, had been worth every damn minute. She was nothing like I’d expected, and everything I’d ever wanted. Smart, pretty, funny and unexpectedly down-to earth. It was going to take a hell of a long time to stop thinking about her. I knew she was not for me. There wasn’t a fucking thing about me that said ‘hey you deserve a woman like Lenix Harlow’. But that still wouldn’t make it any easier to accept.
My phone stuttered across the nightstand. I reached for it. It was Andi.
“Hey, big turd. I’m on break at the hospital and I’m bored. Are Megan and Aubrey still talking to you or have you already pissed them off?”
“We might make it to the end of the week without killing each other as long as I don’t hang around them too much.”
“Aubrey texted me earlier that Megan’s new boyfriend is kind of a boob. Figured you were having fun with that.”
“Shit. If you met him you’d be having just as much fun as me. Complete asshole. Perfect for Megan. She always likes that type.”
“And what about you? Anything interesting happen?”
I smiled. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“Of course I would.”
Aside from Kellan and Tommy, Andi was the one person I talked to about stuff in my life. But bringing Lenix up was only going to make it that much harder to not think about her the rest of the night, the rest of the week, the rest of my life for that matter. “It’s no big deal. If I throw my fist at Wyatt or shove him in a glass bottle and toss him into the sea, then there’ll be something fun to talk about.”
“Keep it together, buddy. He’s Megan’s boyfriend. You probably won’t see him much after this week. And then maybe only every other Christmas.” The noises of the hospital, including the overloud intercom, rumbled through her phone. “I’m worried about you, Dawz. I know you and Kellan have been kind of on the outs, and Tommy mentioned something about you freezing down in the hole.”
“Fuck. Tommy and Kellan gossip like nosy old neighbors. I’m fine. I just needed to get the hell out of town for awhile.”
“Right. You sound fine. Like a big, fine butthead. I’ve known you since you were just a clump of cells, and you don’t sound fine.”
“A clump of cells. You’re such a weirdo.”
“Yeah, just be glad you shared a womb and a crib with me. It could have been Megan. Is she taking her place as ‘boss of the world’?”
“Taking her place? Does she ever step off the place? She’s still telling me how many times to blink and how often to take a piss. But she’s all right. Would have been better without Wyatt though.”
She laughed. “Aubrey told me you’ve been taking special care to make his name sound extra annoying.”
“Yep. Why-at and me are never going to be pals. Good thing Meg lives in California.”
A voice on the hospital intercom was paging Nurse Sullivan. “I’ve got to go back out into the madhouse.”
“Yeah. Say hi to Huck for me. Later.”
I tossed the phone onto the nightstand. I got off the bed and stripped down to my boxer briefs. I flipped back the covers and sat down just as a light knock sounded on the door. I looked down at my jeans but decided that if my sisters were stupid enough to come knocking at my door late at night, then they’d better be prepared to see me in my underwear.
I swung open the door.
This time she hadn’t hidden herself in a beanie and scarf. The layers of her red hair fluttered in the breeze. Her pink lips formed a seductive O as she stared down at my mostly naked body.
“Whoa, coal miner, you just never disappoint, do you?” She lifted her eyes to my face, and that’s when I noticed she’d been crying. “Things got kind of
ugly back there. I snuck out of the prison. My feet took off at a run once I reached the beach path. And they carried me straight here without me even telling them where to go.” She crossed her arms around herself. “Probably should have grabbed a sweatshirt first.”
I reached out, took hold of her hand and pulled her into the room. I gripped her arms, constantly having to remind myself how tiny and fragile she was compared to me. I pushed her up against the wall. She threw her arms around my neck as our mouths crashed together.
My cock hardened instantly as I pressed against her. She released me long enough to reach for the ends of her shirt. I helped her sweep it up and over her head. I tossed it aside. Our mouths devoured each other as I reached back to unclasp her bra. I knew my kiss was too hard, almost punishing, but she didn’t shy away. She kissed back with the same intensity as if we were doing something completely forbidden, something we’d both been wanting like two mad people hungry for each other. Or that might just have been me. My heart was pounding so fast it was hard to think straight.
She moved her shoulders to slip her bra free. My hand cupped her breast to take its place. She purred in that unbelievably sultry voice as I brushed my thumb over her nipple.
“I love having your hands on me,” she said on a long, warm breath. “And I love having my hands on you.” She pressed her mouth against mine again as her hands fluttered down over my stomach to the waistband on my briefs. She tugged them down, freeing my raging erection. Her tongue swept over mine, and she mewled approvingly against my mouth as her fingers wrapped around my cock, smoothing her palm over me from base to tip.
“Fucking hell, Pixie, you and those magical fingers are going to make me come before I even get you free of your panties.”