She peered up at me. “I bet you got up to all sorts of mischief in the past.”
I grinned down at her. “You have no idea.”
She didn’t return my smile, though. Instead, her expression grew thoughtful.
“You’ve changed.”
I canted my head. “Changed how?” I asked, except I knew. And she was right. Not only did I appear different to her, but I felt different. Freer. Optimistic about the future. I had a long way to go. I still hated going out in public, and my moods wildly swung from one extreme to another, and guilt was a concrete slab around my neck. But there was no doubt about it. I’d changed from the man I’d been a few short months ago before Izabelle came into my life. And the addition of Bandit—as much as I’d berated her for introducing him into my life—had given me something to think about other than wallowing in the pit of despair I’d occupied since that horrific night.
“Are you busy this morning?”
She’d ignored my question for one reason only; she must have seen in my face that I already knew the answer.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m maxed. You’ve seen how crazy my schedule is.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Y’know, I think I preferred the Upton that either snapped at me or ignored me completely.”
I slung an arm around her shoulders in a proprietary fashion, and it felt right. Like my arm belonged there, holding her close to me. “You and I both know that’s a lie.”
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” she said.
Clasping a hand over my heart, I said, “You wound me, Miss Laker.”
She shook her head. “You’re such a jerk.”
I laughed. “Tell me, what did you have in mind?”
“I have to go pick up something for my brother, and it’d be easier if you drove me as long as you’re feeling up to it. You don’t have to get out of the car,” she added hurriedly. “But it’d help me out a lot.”
I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Anything for you.”
13
Belle
Anything for you.
He’d kissed me, put an arm around my shoulder, joked about giving me a spanking, and then uttered those words. What’s going on here?
“Are you sure the doctors only operated on your back?” I asked with an impish grin. “Maybe they injected you with a few ‘be nice to Belle’ genes, too.”
He poked his tongue into his cheek and raked his gaze over me. “Y’know, if you’re ready for me to put you over my knee, it’s easier and faster to just ask.”
I slid from underneath his arm and skipped out of the way. “Down, boy.”
Snagging me around the waist, he pulled me flush against his body and circled his hips. “Too late for that.”
His lips captured mine again, and my stomach clenched and rolled in that delicious way a man’s expert touch produced.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I’d loved Marin. He’d been my first, and I’d been his, which meant neither of us were hugely experienced. The way Upton splayed his large hands across my back, how his tongue stroked mine, the feel of his soft yet firm lips, well, it was different. More intense. He made me feel… needy. Wet. Desperate for more.
And guilty.
What are you doing?
I drew back. “I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes cast on the floor. “It’s just…”
He clipped me under the chin, lifting my head. “Too much too soon?”
I nibbled on my lower lip. “Maybe a little.”
He nodded. “I can wait. We all have a history, and one day soon, you’ll tell me yours.”
“Cocky much?” I asked, relief swarming through me. He could have taken my rejection badly, but instead, his kindness and understanding of a situation he had no idea about made me want to kiss him again. Perhaps that was his plan? Force me to go to him, to beg for his touch.
I could see how that might happen. But not yet. I needed time alone to get my head around the shift in our relationship.
“Come on,” he said. “You can pick which car we take.”
“Better make it the SUV,” I said. “It’s a pretty big package.”
The arch to his brow and the way he lowered his eyes to his groin had me laughing out loud. “Men,” I said, raising my eyes upward. “You’re all the same.”
“True,” he said. “Except I can back up my claims.”
I suppressed a tremor of pleasure. The idea of Upton parting my thighs, settling between my legs, and pushing his huge—
“You’re blushing.” His laughter interrupted my dirty thoughts. “And I know exactly why.”
I ground my teeth. “There’s such a thing as overconfident. Bring back reclusive, silent Upton. I liked him better.”
“Sure you did,” he said.
I growled, and he laughed.
“Never play poker, Izabelle. You suck at hiding your thoughts.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled childishly.
He laughed harder and opened the garage, grabbing the keys to the SUV. “Right,” he said, snapping his seat belt into place. “Where are we going?”
I gave him the zip code, and he punched it into the fancy satnav system, then drove onto the road. My eyes were drawn to his strong hands on the wheel as he negotiated the winding roads with ease. I loved his hands. Not that I’d ever tell him that. His confidence was making a speedy comeback, so the very last thing he needed was further encouragement. My head spun at his change in attitude. Then again, he’d been in a fair bit of discomfort since his operation. I didn’t blame him for being moody.
The closer we got to the store where I’d ordered Zak’s wheelchair, the more excited I became. This would make such a difference to Zak’s life and give him more independence. And I could make this happen because of this job. In another two months, I’d be able to afford a little car. I’d already been looking at a few around ten years old that were in my price bracket. That would do me just fine. And then I’d be able to take Zak out. With transportation and a motorized wheelchair, we could visit lots of places he hadn’t been able to go since the accident.
Upton frowned as he nosed the car into the parking lot and stopped. He shifted in his seat to face me. “Is this the right place?”
“Yep. This is it. Want to come inside, or would you rather wait here?”
“Why do you need a wheelchair?”
“It’s not for me. It’s for my brother.”
I pressed down on the handle and climbed out. Upton surprised me by following suit.
“Your brother is in a wheelchair?”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorrow clutched my chest, and I took a deep breath through my nose to quell the guilt rising inside. “Me, too.”
“Was he born paralyzed?”
I shook my head. “No. He had an accident.”
“What happened?” he asked gently.
“Not now.” I swallowed. “Today is a happy day. With the money I’ve earned from this job, I can afford to buy him a motorized wheelchair. He’s so excited. It’ll afford him so much more independence.”
I set off toward the entrance, half expecting Upton to return to the car and wait for me there. Instead, he caught up to me and threaded his fingers through mine. I squeezed and looked up at him. “Thanks for helping me. I’d originally planned to pick it up and take it on the bus until I realized the weight of the damn thing. And delivery was hellishly expensive.”
“Anything for you,” he repeated, and my stomach twisted.
We walked inside, the bell over the door dinging to signal our arrival.
“Be right with you,” a voice called from out back, and seconds later, the man I’d dealt with when I’d ordered the chair a couple of weeks earlier appeared. He glanced at Upton, stared at his scar for a snap too long, then swiftly turned to me. “Ah, Miss Laker, correct?”
I gnashed my teeth together. No wonder Upton hated going out in public if that was the reaction he got. It amazed me how people treat
ed those who were a little different from the general population. Zak suffered it all the time. Stares, unwarranted help, people thinking he was incapable of doing anything on his own, and not even bothering to ask before opening doors or pushing him without his permission. Some people pissed me off.
“That’s right. I got your email,” I said, my tone on the curt side. “Today is the first day I’ve had a chance to come by.”
His face bloomed with color. Good. He got the message.
“Not a problem at all, Miss Laker. Is your car parked out front?”
“It is.”
“Great. I’ll bring it out to you.”
We returned to Upton’s car. I opened my mouth to apologize—not that it was my apology to make—but the store owner appeared from the rear of the building with a huge cardboard box before I could. Between the three of us, we loaded it into the trunk of Upton’s car with me constantly fussing about his back, and him glowering in response. I signed the paperwork and climbed in to Upton’s car without even saying goodbye. Maybe that would make the store owner think twice next time. I mean, he sold wheelchairs for a living. Dealing with disabilities should be the norm for him.
“What a jerk,” I said as I reached for my seat belt.
A tic materialized in his jaw, and he kept his gaze dead ahead. “I’m used to it.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
“Forget it.” He started the engine. “Where to next?”
“Well,” I said, grinning. “Buckle up. You’re about to meet my family.”
I swore he turned a little green.
Upton managed to park right outside our house—thank goodness. I didn’t fancy lugging that box too far. I darted inside to fetch Mom, but by the time I returned with her, Upton already had the box out of the car and sitting on the sidewalk. I shot him a glare. He shrugged in response.
“Mom, this is my boss, Upton.” I smirked at my introduction.
“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Laker,” Upton said, shaking my mom’s hand.
Mom—God bless her—paid zero attention to his scar. Instead, she hit him with a beaming smile and said, “My, my. No wonder my daughter didn’t hesitate to move in to take care of you. I’ll happily take on another job if there’s an opening.”
My mouth dropped open. “Mom!” I admonished.
Upton burst out laughing. “To be fair, Mrs. Laker, I have a feeling you might not be quite as bossy as your daughter, so we should discuss the matter further.”
“Hey.” I gave him a sharp dig with my elbow which earned me a wink and an even wider smile.
Mom’s eyes narrowed, and I suppressed a groan. Dammit. She knew me far too well. No doubt tonight’s dinner conversation would center on Upton and me, and what the heck was going on.
Answer: I wish I knew.
“Here,” Mom said, bending her knees to grab one side of the box. “Let’s get this inside. Zak is beside himself with excitement. Belle, you carry this end with me, and Upton, if you can take the other end, that’d be great.”
We maneuvered the awkward box into the house without too much trouble. Leaving it in the entranceway, I walked into the kitchen with Mom and Upton trailing behind, chatting as if they’d known each other for ages.
Zak appeared from the living room, his eyes lighting up. “Hey, sis. Is it here?”
I kicked my head back. “Yep. We left it out there. This is Upton, by the way. Mom’s new boss.”
Upton snorted with laughter while Zak merely looked confused. “Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind.”
Upton came over and greeted Zak. “Good to meet you. Do you want a hand unpacking it?”
Zak nodded. “That’d be great.” He wheeled himself out of the kitchen toward the front of the house. Upton followed. Not once did he grab Zak’s chair to push him. I could have kissed him.
“Well, well.” Mom craned her neck and peered down the hallway. “He’s a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he?”
I poked my tongue into my cheek and lifted my right shoulder. “Can’t say I’ve noticed.”
Mom raised both eyebrows. “If that’s true, then we need to make an appointment with the eye doctor.”
I huffed and stomped off to join Upton and Zak, Mom’s chuckling following me out of the kitchen. Having a mother who knew you as well as mine knew me was both a blessing and a curse. I’d managed to keep her inquisitiveness at bay by only telling her stories about how difficult he was, but now that she’d seen us together, she’d homed in and seen right through the shallow veneer I’d erected.
Within fifteen minutes, we had Zak’s wheelchair unpacked. He hoisted himself into it, and soon after, he was tearing around the house as if he’d had it for days.
“I owe you, sis,” Zak said. “This will make getting around much easier. And when you’ve saved up for that car, maybe we could take a trip. I’ll be able to go much further in this baby.”
I drowned in Zak’s happiness. That I’d been able to do this small thing to enhance his independence meant the world to me. Those first few weeks when Upton’s attitude had challenged every strand of my patience faded into insignificance. This, Zak’s delight, made every single second worth it.
His generosity of spirit still humbled me, even after all this time. I liked to think that if the situation was reversed, I’d have been the same, except I couldn’t say hand on heart that I would.
“You and I both know who owes who around here.” I squeezed his shoulder. “But yeah, a trip sounds terrific.”
We stayed for a coffee, but when Upton winced as he stood to put his cup in the sink, I suggested we make a move. He’d done far more than he should have, lugging a heavy wheelchair around. I’d have tried to stop him if I’d thought for one minute he’d have listened to a word I said.
Upton drove away, and I waved to Mom and Zak until they disappeared from sight. I flopped back in the soft leather of Upton’s car and sighed. “Thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d refused, other than to pay a small fortune for delivery.”
“It’s fine,” Upton said. “God, you’re a fusser.”
I folded my arms. “Am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
I couldn’t deny it. Caring for people was in my blood. My earliest memories were of dressing up in a nurse’s outfit that Mom bought me one Christmas and forcing Zak to play the patient while I mopped his brow and pretended to listen to his heart through a toy stethoscope. Little did I know back then that I’d end up having to care for him for real.
“What are you thinking about?” Upton asked, jerking me from both happy and sad memories.
“Zak,” I said. “A childhood memory of when I’d pretend he was my patient, and I was the nurse taking care of him, much to his chagrin. But he’d always play along, for me.” I sighed and nibbled my lip, then shifted my gaze out the window. “We’re twins, you know.”
“You are?”
“Yeah.”
Upton turned down the radio. “What happened?”
I shook my head, my gaze remaining averted. I wasn’t ready to tell him that I was supposed to go to the concert that night, but that I got waylaid and Zak went in my place, hence my crippling guilt at his paralysis. Upton and I were just getting somewhere, and I didn’t want to detract from the progress we’d made by turning the focus on me. If I shared what had happened to Zak, then I’d have to tell him about Marin, too, and then he’d know how much we had in common. I wasn’t ready to share the similarity of our heartbreaking stories. I wanted him to come around on his own, to want me for me, not because of our common grief.
“I’ll stay tonight in case you need anything after today’s exertions. But tomorrow, I’m moving back home.”
14
Upton
Despite the occasional gentle nudge from me, Izabelle refused to disclose anything further about Zak. My radar was firing, like off the charts. Every time I broached the subject, she’d get this look on her face, and it was an expr
ession I recognized. I saw it often when I stared into the mirror.
Guilt.
Whatever the cause of Zak’s disability, Izabelle felt culpable in some way. I couldn’t force her to open up to me, but damn, I wanted to try. I wouldn’t, though. She’d only clam up, and I’d take that as reason to drill harder, and we’d end up getting nowhere other than thoroughly pissed off at each other. I had no option other than to wait for her to come around and tell me in her own time.
Then again, I hadn’t exactly allowed myself to open up either. Izabelle only knew what Sebastian and Garen told her, but nothing directly from me. Maybe if I shared a little of my own pain, she’d feel more comfortable sharing hers. Had to be worth a try.
With my mind made up, I sought her out, eventually tracking her to the library. Her legs were tucked beneath her, and she had her head buried in a book. She glanced up as I entered and smiled, then set down the book.
“Busted.”
I flopped down beside her. “Slacking on the job is a sackable offense.”
“You won’t fire me.”
I twirled a lock of her hair around my forefinger. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You like having me around too much. Not that someone as macho as you would ever admit it, but I know the truth.”
I chuckled. “How’s Zak getting along with the wheelchair?”
She beamed, her evident happiness at what she’d been able to do for her brother only increasing my curiosity even further.
“Terrific. It’s given him a lot more independence. He and his best friend, Chad, went to a Lakers game the other day, and just being able to move around more easily means so much to him. He hates relying on others for his care.” Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “Sound familiar?”
Her comment about the Lakers had given me an opening, and I took it.
“My dad used to take me to the Lakers games when I was younger.”
She sat up straight, her eyes laser focused on mine, all hint of teasing leaving her. “You never mention your dad,” she stated, her tone gentle and coaxing.
Enchanted: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 4) Page 9
