“Morning, again,” he said. “I like the idea of you wearing my clothes and cooking my breakfast.”
“Do you now?” she said, arching an eyebrow at him in reproach.
“Mm-hmm,” he replied, moving his lips from her mouth to her neck. She owned him. She’d cast a spell on him that meant he burned every time he wasn’t touching her, or close enough to touch her. “My cock is raw from being inside you all night, and yet I want you again. What have you done to me, Titch?”
A slight tremor ran through her body, and her hands stroked his back, then she anchored them in his hair.
“Is this a dream?” she murmured.
He drew back, and as he gazed into her huge, gray eyes, framed with dark, naturally thick lashes, an alien feeling stirred in his chest. He felt something for this woman, something more, something… scary.
“More like a nightmare,” he said with a grin. His teasing broke the spell, and she gave him a playful punch on the arm, then turned her attention back to beating the eggs.
His phone rang, and he gave it a cursory glance, then grimaced. Calum. No doubt he was calling to see why Nate hadn’t responded to Jax’s last text.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Dex asked.
“No.”
Her eyebrows raised at his curt tone. She looked down at his phone. “Who’s Calum?”
“My brother.”
“Don’t you want to talk to him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Irritation swirled in his gut, but he held back from snapping at her. It wasn’t Dex’s fault that the closer it got to Jax’s wedding—and his subsequent return to New York—the shorter his fuse became, and the sicker he felt.
“Nate?”
His eyes sprang open. Concern laced her features, and something moved inside him. Something warm and good, and addictive.
She set the bowl on the countertop. “Is everything okay?”
He slipped his arms around her waist, stealing another kiss. “All good, Titch.”
Nate returned to the bedroom and quickly dressed. He went into the bathroom and picked up his toothbrush, a grin threatening the corners of his mouth as he noticed the damp bristles. Dex must have brushed her teeth with it when he’d still been asleep. The idea was oddly thrilling.
He finished getting ready, and by the time he got back to the kitchen, Dex was plating up. Such a domestic scene for a very un-domestic man, but he found he didn’t mind as much as he imagined he would.
He sat at the counter and shoveled eggs into his mouth. He was starved. Must be all the sexercise coupled with eating Dex’s pussy instead of the steak last night.
“These are pretty good, Titch,” he said, picking up a piece of crispy bacon and biting it in half. “Same time next Sunday?”
A blush crept across her cheeks, and she wrinkled her nose. “You’ll have gotten bored of me by then, Nate. In fact, I’ll give it another few hours and I doubt you’ll remember my name.”
Despite the fact she said the entire sentence while wearing a hint of a grin, a spear of anger shot through him. He tightened his hand around the fork while curling the other one into a fist. His eyes bored into hers, his jaw clenched so tightly together his teeth ached.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he snapped, wanted to maim, to hurt, like she’d hurt him. It didn’t matter that he deserved it. It didn’t matter that his reputation definitely preceded him, which gave her comment some validity. He was different around her. She made him different, and he wanted her to notice that on her own. Except she hadn’t.
Her smile fell, and she turned away, her teeth grazing her bottom lip. Her fork clattered to her plate, despite the fact she hadn’t eaten a bite. She shoved the plate to one side and climbed down off the stool.
“Well, don’t worry, Nate. I’ll be out of your hair in thirty seconds. I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your precious time.”
She stomped into the bedroom while he sat like a fucking statue and let her think he didn’t want her there. That he didn’t need her there. How had their morning turned from sweaty sex, stolen kisses, and a breakfast she’d cooked for him, to a petty argument that meant she was getting ready to walk out?
You, a familiar and all-too-truthful voice whispered in his ear. Because whenever anyone gets within a mile of maybe uncovering the man behind the mask, you have to go and fucking ruin it.
True to her word, Dex appeared within the half-minute, her purse slung diagonally across her body, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She flashed him a look of complete loathing and then marched to the front door, her spine erect, shoulders back as though to say, “You won’t break me, motherfucker.”
But as the door opened an inch, as a spear of light cast a triangular glow across the oak flooring of his living room, Nate launched himself off the chair. His palm hit the door, slamming it shut, and his body closed over hers, his hands cupping her waist.
“I’ll remember your name today, tomorrow, next week, next fucking month,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll remember your name for the rest of my miserable fucking life because nights like last night don’t happen to men like me.”
Her body, so stiff when he first put his arms around her, yielded ever so slightly. He eased her around in his arms, and when he saw how bright with unshed tears her eyes were, he wanted to take his balls in his hand and twist those fuckers until he passed out from the pain.
“Please stay,” he said, cupping her trembling chin. He caressed her face with the tips of his fingers, relishing the softness of her skin, the fullness of her cheeks, so different to the skeletal, haunted-looking women this town was too full of. Her eyes fell shut as he continued to explore her face, and so he did what any other asswipe of a man would do when faced with a woman they’d hurt: he kissed her, hard and deep, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth, probing, seeking the warmth, the comfort, that she gave so willingly.
She broke off their kiss. “I have things to do, Nate,” she said softly, crushing his hope with those few words.
“But you haven’t finished breakfast.” Yeah, that’d make her stay. The offer of a cold breakfast—that she’d cooked. What a catch he was. Fucking smooth, dickhead.
She offered him a glimpse of a smile. “I’ll grab something at home. Can you give me a lift back to my car, or would you rather I called a cab?”
He pressed his lips together and blew an irritated breath out through his nose. “No, I don’t want you to get a goddamn cab. I’ll take you… on one condition.”
Disappointment flickered across her face, and she gave a slow shake of her head. “What’s the condition?”
“You agree to come to dinner with me tonight.”
Disappointment was replaced with surprise, her forehead creasing as she looked up at him. “I’d like that.”
Relief rushed through him so fast it made his head spin. He grabbed his wallet and keys and ushered her outside. They made a dash for the car, the rain splattering down, soaking them. They drove back to the supermarket in companionable silence. Nate pulled to a stop and reached across her to open her door.
“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty. Drive carefully.”
He drove away without looking back. If he did, he’d never leave.
Chapter 7
Dex gently lowered herself into the bath and rested her head on a folded-up towel. Her whole body ached from the exertions of the previous night, but she wouldn’t change a single thing, not even their fight that morning, because it made it all seem real. Every time she thought about the last twenty-four hours, she wanted to hug herself, to scream, to dance around with excitement. To hope beyond all hope it wasn’t just a one-night stand.
She’d been thoroughly fucked by Nate Brook. She’d more than tripled her previous sexual experiences in one freaking night, and she’d had so many orgasms she’d lost count.
Her stomach flipped deliciously as she thought back to Na
te’s hands on her body, his mouth in the most intimate of places, how he’d felt inside her. How he’d tasted. She shuddered and closed her eyes, savoring each and every one of the wonderful memories she’d shared with Nate.
But then something he’d said nudged at her, made her curious. Because nights like last night don’t happen to men like me. What could he have meant—men like him? TV stars? No, surely not. Nights like that must happen to famous actors all the time. Could he have meant cruel or heartless men? Well, he definitely had a mean streak. The way he’d taken her semi-joke literally and let her almost walk out before he made a move told her that.
And then to say those wonderful words. How he’d remember her name for the rest of his life.
She groaned, dipped a cloth in the hot water, and placed it over her face. No wonder she didn’t understand Nate. They’d done things the wrong way around. Dinner and a little sharing of information should have come before the night of hot, sweaty sex. At least he wanted to see her again. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d dumped her after she’d put out when they hadn’t even gone on a single date.
A date. Was that even what tonight was? Or was it Nate’s way of apologizing for his behavior before letting her down gently?
Urgh… she was getting on her own nerves.
Dex pulled the plug and got out of the bath, toweling herself dry. She’d wanted so much to stay when he’d asked her to, but as she wasn’t working this Sunday, she wanted to spend more time with Mom. Elva would have taken the kids for a visit that morning, but it would have been the usual rush in, quick chat, rush out. Not that Dex could blame her sister. It wasn’t easy bringing up two hyperactive kids virtually alone because Andy, Elva’s husband, worked so hard trying to provide for his family.
Dex got dressed, fed Milo—giving him an extra cuddle to make up for being out all night, not that he cared—then made some sandwiches, throwing in a bag of chips and a couple of cans of Coke then set off for the nursing home. Mom loved it when Dex brought a picnic, although it could hardly be counted as such. Not that Mom cared. It was as though she’d regressed to her childhood, and the smallest of things seemed like an exciting treat. If it wasn’t so cruel, it would be endearing.
She barely remembered the drive over to Oak Ridge Nursing Home, but as she parked her car and ran up the driveway before she got soaked, past the neat, tended lawn and pretty spring flowers, the exhaustion from trying to keep her head above water and the debt collector from the door melted away. It was all worth it to keep Mom here. Oak Ridge was one of the best nursing homes in the state, and Dex would spend the next fifty years paying off the debt if it meant Mom died happy.
She signed in, shared a few words with the receptionist on duty, and then headed for the sun room where Mom spent most of her time. As she got closer, manic chatter bled through the doors, and Dex smiled. A lot of the residents here may be extremely ill, but they didn’t let it affect them. She knew the minute she rounded the corner she’d see all manner of activities going on: a couple playing poker, a table set up for chess, complete with timer, the odd game of Monopoly or even Trivial Pursuit.
She spotted her mother gazing out into the rain-soaked gardens, chatting with her friend Norma, a glass of iced tea on a table to her side. Dex wandered across and pulled up a seat, giving her mom a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, Mom. Norma. Terrible weather, isn’t it?”
Her mother looked up and squinted at Dex, her brow furrowing in confusion. And then she gave a bright grin that reminded Dex of what she’d looked like before she’d been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. “Oh, Sally,” she said. “It’s lovely of you to come.”
Dex’s heart clenched. Sally had been her maternal grandmother. “Where else would I be?” She played along because to correct her mother usually resulted in confusion, anguish, and then tears. “It’s Sunday. And look what I brought?”
She held up the bag with the sandwiches and snacks inside. Her mom’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning when they first cast eyes on a mountain of presents, so carefully wrapped and placed with love beneath the tree. Anxious to tear through the gift wrap, yet wanting to savor the moment, to draw it out as long as possible.
Her mom peeled the Saran wrap off a cheese and ham sandwich and took a bite.
“My favorite,” she said, tearing it in two and giving half to Norma, despite the fact there was plenty to go around. “Thank you, Sally.”
A trickle of blood seeped from another laceration in Dex’s heart. There had been so many in the last three years, each one more painful than the last. Life was unbelievably cruel at times, and some people seemed to suffer much more deeply than others. To take Dex and Elva’s father from them before he reached forty was bad enough, but now, at the age of forty-seven, Dex’s mother didn’t even recognize her own children, her brain ravaged by a terrible illness that shouldn’t have been her future.
It wasn’t fair. It just was.
“Dex, do you have a moment?”
Dex tore her gaze away from watching her mom extort such pleasure from something as simple as meat and cheese between two slices of bread, to see Jennifer, the manager of the home standing behind her.
“Sure.” With dread curling in the pit of her stomach, Dex got to her feet and squeezed her mom’s shoulder. “Won’t be a minute.”
Her mom didn’t even flinch. Lunch was far more interesting than a daughter she didn’t even remember.
Dex followed Jennifer into her office, taking a seat when one was offered.
“She’s doing well,” Dex said, rubbing the space between her eyebrows as she waited for Jennifer to say what Dex already knew. She was behind with the payments for her mother’s care, and Jennifer was running a business after all, not a charity.
Jennifer nodded. “Extremely well. I know it isn’t easy to see her like this, Dex, but from your mother’s perspective, nothing is wrong. To her, life has become very simple. I hope you can take some comfort in that.”
Dex picked a stray piece of white cotton off the sleeve of her sweater, briefly wondering where it had come from. “I do.”
“But there is something I need to discuss with you.”
Dex let out a resigned sigh. “I know, Jennifer. I’m doing my best, honestly, but it’s not easy. I will get you the money. Somehow.”
Jennifer’s lips pulled to the side in a sympathetic way. “I understand, Dex, but I have bills to pay, too. Staff, food, utilities.” She ran her fingers along the edge of her desk and blinked slowly, then hit Dex with the hammer blow. “Fees are going up at the end of the month. Five percent.”
“No!”
Despair rolled through her, and she found herself on her feet. She began to pace. The pay rise that Nate had forced Bernard to give her would have helped with the arrears, but even that wouldn’t cover an increase in costs. “I can’t afford that. I can barely keep up with the current fees.”
“I know. Look, I can give you a month. Maybe two. But that’s it, Dex. I can recommend somewhere cheaper…” Jennifer’s voice trailed off, and she bit her bottom lip and stared out of the window. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Dex mumbled, her shoulders sinking as if a ton of concrete had been added to the weight her body was already bowing under. “I appreciate you giving me some leeway.”
Dex almost stumbled down the hallway, back to Mom. How was she going to deal with such a mess? She couldn’t take on a third job. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day. Oh God, it was hopeless.
An hour later, she found herself outside Oak Ridge with disbelief and fear and, yes, hatred in her heart. Not for Jennifer, but for the situation. If she moved her mother now, at this stage in her illness, she’d decline. Forcing Mom to leave behind everything she knew was a death sentence on a woman already desperately short of time.
She climbed into her car and let her head drop to the steering wheel. It didn’t matter which way she tried to cut things, there simply wasn’t enoug
h money to go around. There was nothing else for it. She’d have to leave Los Angeles and move back to Wisconsin—taking Mom with her. What would that mean for Elva?
And, almost as importantly, what would it mean for her fledgling relationship with Nate?
Chapter 8
After numerous wardrobe changes, Dex gave up second-guessing the right attire for her dinner with Nate and went with a simple off-the-shoulder top and a pair of skinny jeans. Her height, or lack thereof, meant that slinky dresses and willowy, flowing skirts would never suit her. One of the many consequences of barely scraping five feet tall. She’d inherited Mom’s diminutive stature, whereas Elva had been blessed with Dad’s genes, meaning she was a good half a foot taller.
She slipped a pair of silver studs in her ears then added a dash of perfume to her neck and inside her wrists. Sliding her feet into a pair of four-inch black heels, she frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair didn’t look right, not with this top. She stuck it up into a high ponytail. Yeah, better.
A knock at her door shocked her pulse into overdrive. Oh God, he was here. She took a deep, steadying breath through her nose and, with a final glance at her reflection, went to answer it.
“Ready?” he said with a leisurely eye-sweep that—thankfully—didn’t end in a disappointed grimace.
She returned the favor, hungrily drinking him in. He’d gone with casual, too, wearing black jeans paired with a black shirt left open at the neck, giving her a glimpse of smooth tanned skin which she now knew tasted as good as chocolate ice cream—with a cherry on top. And whipped cream. Oh, and crushed nuts.
“Dex?”
His question, accompanied with a raised eyebrow had her vigorously nodding. “Yes, ready.”
She snatched up her purse, barely having time to shove the strap over her shoulder before Nate captured her hand in his. The earlier rainstorm had finally passed by, although it had left behind a heavy thickness in the air.
Web of Lies: A Brook Brothers Novel Page 7
