Magnetic Love: A Protector Romance (A Surviving Love Novel Book 3)

by Brinda Berry

  He closes the door and runs to his side of the car. Once inside, he starts the engine—and heater. “Cold?” He grabs my hands and begins rubbing them between his own. Then he brings them to his mouth and blows warm air on my skin.

  The thaw might’ve begun at my hands but it quickly moved all the way to my lady parts.

  I can’t meet his eyes. He keeps throwing me off by invading my personal space. “I’m good.” I tug my hands from his.

  “You’re so prickly. I don’t know if you don’t trust me or yourself.”

  There’s a second when I’m positive he’s laughing at me, but I look out the window instead of checking. “I’m dying to see this manly place. Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  Dylan drives like a racecar driver, sliding in and out of lanes easily, going faster than he should with the snow falling faster every minute.

  “We in a hurry?”

  “Yeah. I need to get there before my buddy locks up.”

  Now I’m really curious. I have no idea where he’s taking me, but it obviously doesn’t stay open into the evening. “Well I’d like to be around tomorrow. So, if we don’t make it tonight, we can go another time.”

  He smirks. “We’re going out again?”

  “This is hanging out, not going out.”

  “Sure.” He takes the off-ramp and slows. “Here we are.”

  We pull into huge parking lot next to a building shaped like a bubble, its domed roof reminding me of a movie theater I visited once. There’s one car, an older Mustang, parked far from the door. It’s covered in snow and a guy is locking the entrance. We drive closer.

  Dylan flashes his headlights and the guy waves. He points at his watch and Dylan chuckles. “Come on.”

  “What is this place?”

  “Maxwell’s Gearheads.”

  “You brought me to a car dealership?”

  I glance across at him and he shakes his head. “Trust. I thought you said you were game?”

  We get out and walk to the front, meeting the guy who holds out a set of keys. Dylan shakes hands with the guy.

  “Thanks. Dinner took longer than I thought.” Dylan motions to me. “This is Emerson. Emerson, meet Max.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I look at the door. “Looks like you’re locking up.”

  “Thought you weren’t coming. Nice to meet you, too.” He hands Dylan the keys. “Lock yourself in and lock up when you leave. Have fun.”

  “Appreciate it.” Dylan palms the keys and holds the door open as Max walks away.

  I walk inside. The place is dark and warm. Dylan locks the doors and grabs my hand. “Come on. We’ll find the lights in the next room. This is the lobby.”

  We stroll across the room, hand-in-hand, my heart thrumming in my ears. It’s like I’m a teenager in a carnival funhouse with my boyfriend. I’m not sure what’s around the next dark corner, but all I can think about is how good my hand feels in his.

  “Careful.” He walks into the next room and feels along the wall, dragging me a step behind him as he goes. It’s so dark I can’t even see what he’s found. In an instant, track lights come on and light the perimeter of the room. Dylan’s hand rests on a panel of lights. “That’s enough light, don’t you think?”

  I turn to see it’s a showroom. There are antique cars of every make and model roped off with placards on stands in front of each. It’s like a huge museum.

  Dylan moves softly to stand beside me as I whirl in a slow circle to look at every inch of the place. “What do you think?” He grins down at me.

  “I’m thinking that guy must be a good friend to leave us alone in here. I guess these cars cost a lot.”

  “Max and I are buddies. Our fathers have known each other for years.”

  “Hmm...” I walk to the nearest placard and read it aloud. “1923 Packard Model 1-26 Doctor’s Coupe.”

  “You’re not impressed.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “It was stupid to bring you here. We don’t have to stay.”

  There’s a disappointed tone to his words, and I panic that he’s misreading me. “No, I just...don’t know a thing about cars.”

  He smiles at that and takes my hand. “Here. This one is my favorite.”

  “Figures. It’s showy, but way too small for you. You’re too big.”

  Dylan pulls me toward the silver convertible and moves the velvet roping aside. “Nope. It’s perfect.”

  “What are you doing?”

  He opens the passenger door. “Sit.”

  “Are you sure—”

  “Go on.” He pushes me slightly and I take a seat.

  “Okay. I’m in.”

  He closes the door and runs around to get in the driver’s seat. “1955 Porsche Spyder. Only a few were made. James Dean was driving this car—a car like this I mean—when he died.”

  “Oh.” I lean my head back and look across at him. Dylan rubs along the dash as he speaks. “This car is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever been close to. I’d trade my firstborn for this car.”

  “Glad I’m not your first—”

  “An expression, Gorgeous Girl. Just an expression. This is my favorite place in the city and my favorite seat. I come here when life is too crazy and I need something bigger than myself and my problems to focus on.”

  I look around at all the cars on the showroom. “I get it. You bring all your dates here.”

  He’s silent for several seconds and he stares at the steering wheel. “For one, I thought we weren’t on a date. Two, no. You’re the only one I’ve ever brought here.”

  A thrill shoots into my belly, making me feel like a giant Tesla ball of electricity sits in my center. “Oh.”

  He reaches across and takes my left hand. Brings it to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Stares into my eyes.

  My head spins with thoughts of where this is going. I gulp. “Hey, pretty boy—”

  He stops me by placing a finger to my lips. “Don’t ruin it. Don’t say another word. Don’t think you’re fooling me, because I see the real you, Gorgeous Girl.”

  I’m done for. Weak. A slave to the way my body gravitates toward him despite the warning bells clanging like a fire alarm in my head.

  “I’m going to kiss you now. And you’re going to shut up and let me.” He’s moving toward me as he says the words.

  “Ok. I’m shutting up now—”

  A smile tugs one corner of his mouth the second before his mouth crashes onto mine.

  Chapter Ten

  Addicted to You

  Dylan

  We sit in Maxwell’s Gearheads, the lights low, the place empty, my hands searching for skin as they roam Emerson’s body. I realize it’s winter, but she’s wearing too much. I rub her lower back, pressing that sweet indention at the base of her spine as she arches toward me.

  I pull my mouth from hers and glance around, wishing we’d chosen to sit in a car with a back seat. It’s not like I’d planned to have sex with her in Max’s place, but holy hell I need more than her mouth.

  I drop my lips to the edge of her jawline and plant kisses in a trail to her neck. She smells like tangerines and ocean spray. Sunshine and sex.

  My teeth graze along her collarbone and my tongue tastes her. Her body relaxes, and then she slides her hands along the sides of my neck and sighs. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve heard in my life, and I’m positive she has no idea she made it. It’s the sigh of a guy, standing in front of the Lamborghini, who opens his wallet and hands me a credit card.

  I didn’t expect Emerson to give in to her desires so easily.

  “Damn stick.” I attempt to move closer, but the bucket seats and the stick shift in the floor are in the way. Emerson was right earlier when she said the car was too small for me, but I still manage to lean over to her side of the car. I return to her mouth and tease her tongue with mine, the feel of her lips so soft and sweet.

  Her sweater is long and I tug it up so I can run my other hand inside the bottom of her top. Tracing
my hand along the slight curve of her hip, I smile against her mouth. This girl is a goddess, and the time I’ve spent chasing her will be worth it.

  She’s kissing me back with no hesitation, so I’m surprised when she suddenly pulls back. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

  “Sure you can.” Can a person get drunk from desire? I’m only half sober at this point. The other half of my brain pulses in heady pleasure.

  I push the hair from her eyes. She’s not looking at me now and the way she stares down sends a stab of panic into my chest. “What’s wrong? Don’t shut me out now. “

  She gives me a sad smile and her gaze flicks up. “I don’t want to end up as one of your hookups. You know? Have you even had a steady girlfriend in the past year? Anyone you’ve been with more than a couple of times? I’m sorry, Dylan. I know too much. You are a man slut.”

  I shift to my side of the car and lean back in my seat. “That’s harsh.”

  “But true.” She presses a hand against her eyes like she can shut me out for a minute.

  “So you think.”

  “You forget. I’ve seen your panty collection.”

  I laugh, but the sound is more uneasy than I want it to be. “There is no collection.”

  “Only because I throw them away while cleaning house.” She drops her hand and glares at me.

  “Jealous?”

  “No. Disgusted.”

  “You’re right. I like sex. And I’m sorry that you’ve been around to know too much about my sex life in the past. This thing between us is different. I haven’t been with anyone since I decided I want you.”

  She leans her head to the side. Her lashes fan down as she studies the space between us. “Have you ever had a steady girlfriend?” It’s as though she is embarrassed to let on that this is important to her.

  “Sure. But I think you’re getting me confused with guys like Collin.”

  She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “There’s nothing wrong with Collin.” She shakes her head as if she’s trying to shake off her desire for me. “How many girls have you been out with more than twice?”

  I shift in my seat and adopt a casual smile. “A few.”

  “Tell me more. I want to hear about these girls who snagged you for repeats.”

  There’s a moment when my chest constricts. Constricts because I see the one girl I really wanted a repeat with for the rest of my life, but she’s long gone. Dammit. How did we end up talking instead of kissing? Dammit all to hell.

  I rub a hand along the top of the steering wheel and stare at it.

  Emerson sits up straight in her seat. “Is something wrong?” she asks softly.

  “Nothing.” I take her hand and rub my thumb along the palm of hers. When I see the smile disappear, I squeeze her hand. “Listen. You want to know about my dating record, and that’s fair. I understand. But I have a hard time with commitment.”

  “Is this a normal guy phobia or more?”

  I shrug. “Everybody has more. Don’t they?”

  “Not me.” She leans her head back against the seat and looks through the windshield of the convertible. “What you see is what you get.”

  “I don’t agree. You have a lot of drama in your life, and I’m trying to figure out what’s up with that. You have secrets. Somebody is watching your apartment. You have a past. All this makes me wonder how a girl goes from homecoming queen to stripper.”

  She visibly bristles and attempts to pull her hand out of mine. “Good lord. You’re bringing up the stripper thing again. You are such a jerk.”

  I refuse to let her pull away physically or emotionally. “No. I’m not. If it slips out, it’s because it bothers me that you were stripping in that seedy bar. That other guys saw you take your clothes off. That they think they’ll get to hook up with Electra the Party Girl.”

  “You have a lot of nerve. Just because I’m here on this thing that isn’t even a date, it doesn’t mean that—”

  “Hey, calm down, gorgeous. We’re only talking. You said you didn’t have secrets.”

  Emerson turns a dark shade of pink and pulls her hand away. She sucks in a breath and visibly shakes, her hands clenched like she’s ready to pound something. “How did you know what I went by at Earl’s? Did Jordy tell you that?”

  I could lie. I should if I know what’s best for me because she isn’t going to like the truth. “No. He didn’t.”

  “Then how?” Then realization dawns on her. “Oh my god. You didn’t see me dance, did you?” Her hand is on the door handle before I can stop her.

  “Wait. Emerson. It’s not like that. Jordy said he met you and that you needed a new job. He told us that you’d been working at Earl’s.”

  She slams the car door and I cringe. Max might kill me for any damage to these classic cars, but it doesn’t matter. I get out of the car and chase after her. Emerson darts around the red velvet roping and looks to her right and left.

  “How do I get out of this place?” Tension makes her voice crack and she won’t look at me.

  “Baby, stop. I’m sorry. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You don’t know why? Really?” She turns and walks to stand within a foot of me. Then she smacks me hard on the chest.

  I grimace and rub my ribs, debating on how to calm her.

  She points at me. “You jerk. You think I liked working in that place? Having guys think that I was a few bucks away from giving them a blowjob? Right.”

  “I never said I thought you liked it.” I pull her into my arms. “I only want to know about you. Everything. I think you’re pretty amazing and your past is all part of you.” I tip her chin up to look me in the eyes. “You have this tough exterior that you hide behind. But you don’t fool me, Emerson. I know how beautiful you really are.”

  She struggles against me, and then drops her forehead against my chest. “Don’t you dare be nice to me right now. I do not want to cry. I’m going to be all right. But if you make me cry, I’m not forgiving you.”

  “For what it’s worth, you’re a really good dancer.”

  She snorts, an unflattering and endearing sound muffled against my chest. “Thanks. All my ballet and jazz lessons must’ve paid off. I’m sure my parents would be proud.”

  “That explains why you owned that stage.” I tilt her chin up with one hand. “And that night we all went out this year? When we ended up on the dance floor?”

  “Yeah?” The hesitation is still present in her tone.

  “You rocked my world that night. I wanted to take you home, but later—”

  Her voice is tight. “Okay. I get it. You want to have sex. Message received.” She presses her hands against me and moves out of my embrace. Her fists are clenched along with her jaw.

  Mercy, this girl wants to whip my ass. I can’t help grinning at her, which is exactly the wrong thing to do if her scowl is any indication. I rake my hands through my hair. “You are so hard-headed. If you’ll stop fighting long enough to listen, you might give me some credit for knowing what I want. I want to help you. To protect you. To be with you. I’m interested in more than getting you into bed.”

  She narrows her eyes and looks away. “Why me? This isn’t Pretty Woman, and I’m not Julia Roberts who needs a knight in a business suit.”

  I turn away from her and stroll to a black Rolls Royce next to us. “You know...I’ve never seen that movie so I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I don’t turn around. “Here’s the truth.”

  My heart rate accelerates as if my emotions are gunning the fuel pedal.

  Emerson’s soft footsteps sound behind me and I feel her presence inches from me. “I’m listening.”

  I sigh and rub my hand over my neck, but I still can’t look at her. “I cared about someone in the past. Cared more than I thought I’d ever care for anyone. But things didn’t work out with her. And I made a decision a long time ago that I would be much happier without that kind of relationship. So, that’s why I’m trying to l
et you know how it is with me. I’m not looking for love. But I think you and I can be good friends. I’m telling you things I don’t tell just anybody.”

  “Is this why you sleep around?” She pauses and waits for an answer. When I don’t give one, she continues, “I don’t sleep with my friends. That’s not how I’m made. I’ve never even had a one-night stand. Do you want to know the last person I had sex with?”

  “I didn’t ask you for details.”

  “I thought you said you wanted to know everything,” she taunts.

  The glass of the car in front of me reflects her face and I try to read her expression. Then I realize she can see my face as well.

  I smile at her reflection. “There’s a reason you were my phone call when I was in jail. You always accept me for exactly who I am. No pretenses with you. And I think deep down I knew I could open up to you. Trust you. Don’t you get that? This break-in at your apartment’s made me crazy. I’m worried about you living in that shithole across town and about somebody breaking in while you’re there. I’m worried about some guy in an SUV stalking you. I’m worried that something bad is going to happen to you.”

  She rests her hand on my shoulder and forces me to turn. “Thanks for looking out for me. I do believe you care—”

  The high-pitched squeal of an alarm pierces my hearing, forcing me to wince. My body tenses and my shoulders pull up automatically. I take a slow, deep breath. Nothing like seeing a grown man freak the fuck out over a loud noise. Emerson’s eyes grow wide and she moves to my side. I instinctively drape my arm around her back and lean in. “Something’s been going on with Max’s new alarm system. It went off last week, so I’m sure we didn’t do anything. He lives right down the road.” I reach into my pocket and retrieve my phone so I can text Max.

  The alarm continues as I attempt to send the first text. A red exclamation mark pops up, indicating a failed text. I don’t have service inside the building and it’s no surprise since I always have trouble using my cell in this section of the city.

  She raises an eyebrow and scoots in even closer to me so she can see what I’m studying on my cell screen. I can’t resist sweeping her hair aside and putting my mouth close to her ear. “Let’s get out of here. No signal.” I allow my lips to linger a second too long and smile at her shiver.