Shiver

by Suzanne Wright

  I sighed. “You have to be sure you truly want this, Blake.”

  Now he gave me a look of disgust. “Kensey, how many people do you think I’ve revealed all my shit to? Shall I tell you? None.”

  “But Rossi—”

  “We’ve been friends since high school and he’s Bastien’s cousin. That’s how he knows so much. No, before you ask, Liza didn’t touch him.” Blake cupped my neck. “I wouldn’t have trusted you with all of that unless you meant something to me. And you mean a fuck of a lot to me. Unless you don’t feel the same way, I don’t see why you can’t agree to live here permanently.”

  “It’s just that—”

  He quieted me with a soft kiss. “You love me, Kensey.”

  My heart slammed against my rib cage. “Where did you get that idea?”

  “I see it. I feel it. And if you can’t see and feel that I love you, you’re fucking clueless.”

  Disbelief left me at a loss for words. I stared at him, off-balance. Eventually, I said, “I can’t decide whether to hug you for saying you love me or to slap you for daring to even entertaining the thought that I might be clueless.”

  “The first. You should do the first.”

  I sank my teeth into my lower lip. “You mean it? You love me?”

  “I mean it. Would never have said it if I didn’t.” His mouth took mine in a lazy, languid kiss that made my toes curl. “Say it, Kensey.”

  My pulse spiked. “I’ve never said it to a guy before.”

  Smugness flared in his eyes. “Good.” His hands slid from my neck and delved into my hair. “Say it.”

  Nervous, I licked my lips and swallowed. Shit, why was it so hard to tell him? He already knew anyway. I took a deep, preparatory breath and whispered, “I love you.”

  His eyes went all soft and slumberous as a smile of pure male satisfaction curved his mouth. “I know. Makes you feel vulnerable to admit it, doesn’t it? I get that. But it doesn’t give me power over you, Kensey. The power to hurt you? Sure. Just like you have the power to hurt me. But not power over you. I’ve told you many times; you’re safe with me.”

  He kissed me again, plundering my mouth with so much possessiveness that I felt branded to the bone. Snaking my arms around his waist, I splayed my hands on his back and said, “I don’t like that I have the power to hurt you. And vice versa.”

  “Same here. But you know we sometimes will hurt each other; there’s no avoiding that. One thing I adore about you is that you don’t blow and lose your shit whenever you’re upset—there’s no drama. I need that, baby, because I’ve had enough fucking drama. And the last thing I want is a relationship that’s anything like what my parents had.”

  I tilted my head. “It was bad?”

  “They didn’t work at it, Kensey. If one upset the other, they didn’t talk. Didn’t try to resolve anything. Didn’t apologize. I can’t count the number of times one stormed out on the other, all pissed and self-righteous. If it was my dad who’d marched out, my mother would pack his clothes in bags and throw them out the bedroom window. If she was the one who’d stormed out, he’d take me somewhere and not bring me back until it was really dark.”

  “Knowing that, because of her phobia, she’d be terrified for you but couldn’t go looking for you,” I understood. Oh, that was harsh.

  “It’s not that I never went out at night until after she died. She allowed it, but she still panicked about it. And knowing he’d kept me out until late at night just to spite her … that always hit her exactly where it hurt.”

  As Clear had never lived with a man, the one thing I’d never had to deal with was seeing any kind of domestic argument. It also meant that the most I knew about relationships came from what I’d observed of Sherry and Dodger. They were tight. Happy. Solid.

  “If either of us hurt the other, there’ll be no hitting back out of spite,” Blake stated firmly. “No storming out. We’ll sit and talk. We’ll work it out. Yeah?”

  “Yeah. But there may be some bitch-slapping.”

  He smiled. “I consider myself warned.”

  “And I’ll expect gifts if you fuck up majorly. Pretty pens. Notepads. Nothing expensive.” His expression turned a little shifty, and I tensed. “What?”

  “I have something for you.” He pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it.

  I eyed the black wristwatch carefully. There was nothing flashy about it. Small and compact, it had a strap of silicon. But I could tell it was pricey. “You bought me a watch?”

  “Before you balk at wearing this, hear me out.”

  That sentence didn’t bode well.

  “This is a phone. It has its own sim card and cell number. You can make calls using it, and you can also receive calls—but only from numbers that you preapprove in the account on the App, which means you’re in control of who can contact you.” He pointed to a small button on the side of the watch. “If you push hard on this for five seconds or more, it’ll send an alert to whatever contacts you program it to do so. It’ll also show your location on the App, so those contacts will know where you are.”

  My brows flew up. “My location? This is a tracking device?” I couldn’t help but bristle. “So, with the App, you could check my location at any given time?”

  He raised one hand, palm out. “It isn’t about checking where you are. You know me, Kensey. I’m demanding and pushy, but I’d never try to take your independence from you. I respect you too much for that. I don’t want to keep tabs on you. I don’t want to invade your privacy. This is about your safety.”

  “My safety?” Folding my arms across my chest, I eyed the watch again. “Isn’t this the kind of thing people give to their kids or elderly relatives?”

  “Yes, to ensure those relatives can have their independence but still be safe.” He cupped my face and breezed his thumb over my cheekbone. “I need the peace of mind that you can reach me whenever you need to. I need to know that if something happens and I can’t contact you, I have a way to find out where you are so I can still get to you.”

  “You think Smith will make a try for me.”

  “I’ve made it hard for him to get close to you, but I can’t make it impossible unless I keep you here at all times. You’ll never go for that, and although I’d feel better knowing you were here where you’re safest, I’d hate that we’d given him that power over your life. He vented his frustration on your apartment. He could go after you next time. I need the peace of mind that you can always reach me and that I can always find you. Give me that, Kensey,” he coaxed, brushing his nose with mine. “Let’s be smart and make things as hard for him as we can.”

  How could I bristle over it when he put it like that?

  “Would you really begrudge me that peace of mind?”

  “Would you wear one?”

  “If it meant that much to you, yeah. But it’s not me who’s being harassed. Look, you don’t have to wear it once all this is over. Just until we’ve caught Smith. Tell me it isn’t smart and I’ll let it go.”

  To my utter annoyance, I couldn’t. “It looks expensive. What if I break it?”

  “If you break it, I’ll replace it. But these things are hard to damage. They’re waterproof too. It would be much easier to damage you, and that plays on my mind far too much. Come on, baby, wear it for me.”

  I sighed. “Would it mean Rossi could have a life beyond escorting me places?”

  “No. Rossi will still follow you to and from work, because one thing the watch can’t tell me is whether you’re being followed. He can.” Blake brushed his thumb along my cheekbone. “Wear it, Kensey. For me.” My resigned, long-suffering sigh made him smile. “Good girl.”

  “Where did you get this?” I asked as he put it on my wrist.

  “Emma recommended it. Don’t forget we’re going to her house tonight.”

  “You sure you want me to come?” From what I’d heard from Sarah, who’d also been invited, Emma always threw a mini house party for Adam’s birthday. By mini, I mea
nt that the only guests were Blake, Bastien, Tara, Laurel, and the two PIs who worked for Emma. Sadly, Adam didn’t have any family. He liked small affairs.

  Blake frowned, like I’d asked the most idiotic question. “Yes, I’m sure. Even if Emma hadn’t invited you, I’d take you. I want you with me.”

  “Tara might not like it,” I pointed out. “I don’t care what she does or doesn’t like, but you said she can be an ugly drunk. I don’t want her being bitchy on Adam’s birthday. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”

  “According to Emma, Tara’s bringing a date.”

  My brows lifted. “Really?”

  “Really. It’s unusual for Tara.”

  “How unusual?”

  “She’s never done it before.”

  I figured that either Tara had made the decision to move on or she was bringing someone in the hope of making Blake jealous. I sure hoped it was the first, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  I liked Emma and Adam’s house. It was spacious and inviting with a mix of old and modern. I particularly liked the living area with the plush upholstered sofa, lacquered antique table and chests, the soft patterned rug, and the gold-colored drapery. Mostly, I liked the snug reading nook near the fireplace and wall of books.

  That was where I found Sarah, browsing the shelves—she loved historical romance, which I thought would surprise a lot of people.

  While Blake and Bastien chatted with Adam in the kitchen as Emma did the last of the preparations for dinner—I’d offered to help but she’d politely shooed me away—I walked to Sarah with a smile. “Just what is that around your neck?” The choker was clearly a gift from Bastien. “Wait, I’m changing my question. How did he get you to wear it?”

  Sarah touched the velvet collar, mouth curled. “He can be very persuasive.”

  “I’m serious. How did he do it?” Sarah never thought of her partners as ‘boyfriends.’ Never truly committed herself to anyone. To wear a symbol of ownership was something major for her.

  She bit her lower lip. “He said he loved me. I didn’t react well at first. Kinda walked out on him. But I went back later. He wasn’t even mad at me. He said he knew I was scared. He also said that whenever I’m feeling vulnerable or afraid, I should touch this and remember that there’s someone who loves me.”

  Oh, that was sweet. “He understands you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I like him for you.”

  “Me too. So, how’s life with Blake?”

  “Same as it was when you asked me that yesterday morning. Only I’ve agreed to live with him permanently.”

  Her eyes widened in delight and surprise. “How did he get you to do that?”

  “To use your words, he can be very persuasive.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll just bet he can.”

  There was a knock at the front door that was quickly followed by Adam striding down the hall. “That might be Laurel,” I mused.

  Sarah shook her head. “Adam said she can’t make it.”

  When I heard Tara’s voice, I couldn’t help snarling just a little. Then I heard another voice; one that made my head tilt … because it was very familiar. I looked at Sarah, who’s eyes bulged.

  “No, it can’t be,” she said.

  “You’re right, it can’t.” Could it?

  Tara and her guest came into view as they began a slow walk down the hall. Tara caught sight of me and grinned. “Hello, girls. Lovely to see you.”

  I didn’t respond. I was too busy staring at her guest, thinking how satisfying it would be to punch Tara right in the tit.

  My ex-boyfriend blinked in genuine shock. “Kensey.” His lips set into a lopsided smile. “This is a surprise.”

  “Gage,” I greeted simply.

  “You look well.”

  Tara looked from me to him. “You two know each other?” she asked, all innocence, but it was obvious that she damn well knew the answer to that.

  “We’ve met,” I said.

  Tara’s eyes twinkled. “Small world, isn’t it?”

  That was when Blake came into view, eyes instantly searching me out, completely unreadable.

  Tara quickly turned to him. “Hi, Blake. Gage, let me introduce you to one of my oldest friends. This is Blake Mercier. He owns the Vault.”

  Gage looked impressed. “Never been there, but I’ve heard it’s worth the cost of the membership.”

  “It is,” Tara confirmed. “Blake, this is Gage Milton. He’s a dear friend of mine. And a tattooist; he’s done some fabulous work.”

  As Gage’s gaze flicked to me, I almost groaned. Don’t say it, Gage. Don’t say it.

  “Kensey wears one of mine,” said Gage. “Don’t you, sweetness?”

  “I’d advise you to not call her that,” Blake said to him, voice low and flat. Eyes still on Gage, Blake held his hand out to me. “Come here, baby.” When I crossed to him and placed my hand in his, Blake pulled me close.

  Gage’s brows hiked up. “Sorry. Didn’t know you two were together.”

  “Now you do.” Curling an arm around my shoulders, Blake guided me down the hall, through the kitchen, and out of the open patio doors—ignoring the curious looks that Bastien, Emma, and Adam wore.

  On the deck, Emma’s PIs—Chase and Bran—were sprawled on rattan chairs. I’d met them earlier, and they seemed nice enough. They tipped their chins at us as Blake led me over to the wooden swing that was cozily positioned under an arch that was adorned with flowers at the rear of the yard.

  The moment we sat, Blake draped his arm over the back of the swing and asked, “Who is Gage to you?” His voice was hard and strained.

  “An ex.”

  A muscle in Blake’s cheek ticked. “Thought as much. From how long ago?”

  I puffed out a breath and crossed one leg over the other. “About six months ago.”

  “He’s the one who cheated on you,” Blake realized.

  I nodded. “With a redhead. And now I’m wondering if the redhead was in fact Tara.” In a sense, she’d taken the man in my life, and now I’d taken the one in hers. Funny old world, wasn’t it?

  “How do you know it was a redhead?”

  “Reed told me he saw Gage snuggled up with one at a bar where Gage’s band plays.” Reed had also poured his beer over the cheating bastard’s head, which I thought was awesome.

  “Tara’s always had a thing for musicians. It’s obvious they’ve known each other for a while.”

  “It’s also pretty obvious that she knows he’s my ex. Probably whined about me to Gage, who then told her about our past.”

  Blake’s face hardened. “She’s done this to piss me off. When I told her and Bastien that you now know everything, she flipped. She feels that I had no right to share the whole story without checking with them first. Even though I told her that Montgomery approached you, Tara didn’t feel that you needed to know anything. Bastien, however, agreed that it’s best that you’re fully aware of who and what Montgomery is.”

  “Maybe you should have consulted with them first.”

  He frowned. “Tara already knew I’d tell you when I was ready—I told her that.”

  “She clearly didn’t believe you.”

  “Clearly not.”

  I put a hand on his thigh. “I know you want nothing more than to throw him out and give her a verbal lashing—I truly do like the idea—but she’s done this for a reaction. Don’t give her what she wants.”

  Blake thrust his hand into my hair. “I don’t like that he gave you your tattoos. Like he’s left his brand on your skin.”

  “He only did the feather quill. A woman did the cuffs and garters.”

  “That makes me feel a little better. But I hate knowing he’s tasted you. Touched you. Been in you. I want to kill him just for knowing what you look like when you come.”

  “He didn’t make me scream. You’re the only person who has ever done that. And I sure as hell never gave up any control to him. But I never held ba
ck with you.”

  Blake spoke against my mouth, “I wouldn’t have let you.”

  I smiled. “No, you wouldn’t have.” Hearing my cell beep, I pulled it out of my purse. “It’s a text from Sarah.”

  This bitch has some fucking nerve. Want me to stab her with my fork?

  I can make it look like an accident xx

  Smiling at that, I typed a quick reply:

  No. We’re going to do something much worse. We’re going to treat

  her like this shit isn’t registering on our radar xx

  “You think that will bother Tara more?” Blake asked, having read my text.

  I nodded. “Like I said, she’s done this for a reaction. She thinks it makes her very clever, and she’s counting on it hurting you and making me uncomfortable. She might even be hoping it causes some friction between you and me. I have no intention of giving her anything she wants. You?”

  “No.” He kissed me. “But it will be hard not to punch the prick she’s brought with her.”

  “Food’s ready!” Emma bellowed.

  Re-entering the house, we headed straight to the dining area. It had a real country feel to it, and I loved the long, thick barn table.

  Tara patted the empty chair beside her, which also happened to be the only vacant one on her side of the table. “Blake, I’ve saved you your usual seat.”

  Like he’d honestly leave me to sit with her. I gave her a look of gentle reprimand, like a teacher would do to a misbehaving six-year-old. “Tara, it’s Adam’s birthday. Save your games for another time, yeah?” I sat beside Sarah, which placed me at the other end of the table from Tara.

  Blake took the chair on my left and draped a possessive arm over the back of mine. He kissed my neck and said quietly, “You smell so good. It always makes me … hungry.”

  Knowing he didn’t mean hungry for food, I smiled. “For now, you’ll have to make do with all this food Emma has laid out.”

  Among other things, there was sweet potato casserole, herb-crusted chicken, mashed potatoes, and glazed carrots. It smelled amazing.