by M. S. Parker
“A bodyguard?” she asked. “For someone famous?”
“More like infamous,” I said.
She laughed and tossed her chestnut curls. “Well, how about we order another drink and you tell me some good work stories.”
I nudged my foot into hers accidentally, and then felt her high heel slip up my calf. She caught my look and then licked her crimson lips. I let my gaze drop to her deep v-neck and brush along the ample cleavage she displayed.
Too big, I thought.
Without thinking, I'd compared the woman across from me to Leighton. I leaned back in the booth and fought not to knock my skull against the hard wood. Why couldn't I get Leighton out of my head? This woman was gorgeous.
“You know, you look a little lonely over there,” she said. She slipped into my side of the booth. “My name's Tanya.”
“Nice to meet you, Tanya. I'm Haze.”
I held out my hand to shake hers and squeezed when I felt her other hand slip up my thigh. Our drinks arrived and she kept her hand there, rubbing. I was just getting ready to say yes when a tall man sauntered by.
Son of a bitch.
“Ricky?”
“No,” she said. “Tanya.”
“No, sorry,” I said. “I think I see someone I know.”
Dammit. I inched away from Tanya's grip and pushed her drink across the booth. She took the hint and moved back across from me, trying to keep her smile in place.
“You sure are strong,” Tanya tried again. “Guess that's a job requirement.”
“I think it's more habit from my time in the army,” I said.
Tanya continued to talk, but her words faded as my ears buzzed. I'd seen Ricky again, and as I watched, he joined the cluster of Tanya's friends on the patio. Within minutes, he'd plucked a pretty blonde from the group and had his arm tight around her waist. They moved to the corner of the bar, and she giggled as he let his other hand rove down her back and over the curve of her ass. The blonde went up on her toes and kissed him.
Mother-fucking bastard.
“So, now you use all your combat skills to protect someone?” Tanya asked.
“Yes. Sorry. Excuse me, Tanya,” I said.
I was across the narrow barroom in three strides. My hand clamped down on Ricky's shoulder and I resisted the urge to squeeze. He turned, his charming smile instantly fading as he realized it was me.
“Haze? Shouldn't you be with Leighton?” he stammered.
I shook my head in disgust. “Shouldn't you?”
I punched him once square in the jaw, and it was enough to drop him backwards to the ground. Ignoring the sounds of surprise around me, I knelt down and yanked the asshole up by the front of his shirt.
“What the hell, man,” Ricky said. “I haven't done anything.”
“Exactly,” I said. “You don't do anything for Leighton. Stay away from her. If I see you sniffing around her again, I won't be so gentle.”
One more punch and I knocked him out cold.
Chapter 17
Leighton
I didn't want to open my eyes, but I knew going back to sleep was impossible. Every time I squeezed my eyes shut, I saw flashes of the past day. Flashes of Ricky and my grandfather, Ian and Haze. I buried my head under the pillow, but the rest of the night refused to stay submerged in the fog of my hangover.
Dean.
The memory of the scotch made me woozy, but I didn't feel sick until I remembered the black marble and stainless steel of Dean's condo, the cold feel of the counter against my bare thighs. Dean snorting cocaine off my skin.
It would have been fine, a one-night stand to keep me from having to think, except I remembered Haze bursting through the stairwell door. The look of disgust I'd seen on his face was enough to make me sit up and dry heave.
Haze had been so angry in the car, he'd yelled at me, told me I was selfish and childish and that I used people. I couldn't remember the exact wording, but the memory of his raised voice and the few phrases I did remember sent me running to the bathroom. After I emptied out the contents of my stomach, I splashed cold water on my face and was relieved as anger replaced the horrible feeling of regret.
Why did I care what Haze thought?
He was no saint. In fact, he was the man who'd slept with me, and then left me to wake up alone. Twice. Who did he think he was, acting all high and mighty, like something I'd done had been so wrong?
Still, as I thought about the things he'd said, it was hard to admit how much of it had been truth.
My hands shook as I dried off my face and picked out clean clothes. One moment from last night came back crystal clear, but made no sense. Haze had told me he was afraid. The word left me cold. He'd been afraid that he'd lost me. My heart stumbled, still wishing it had been as romantic as it sounded at the time.
Then I remembered something else.
...this isn't about us. This is something serious.
The words were like a burr in my head. For one second, I'd thought Haze really cared about me, so much so that my disappearance had shaken him to his core. Then, the next moment he'd been telling me that whatever he needed to talk to me about was serious. Unlike us.
If he truly cared for me, I thought, he would have quit his job as my bodyguard. He could've just as easily kept an eye on me and protected me, if necessary, as my date. If he'd quit, but still wanted to see me I would have known it was me he was interested in, not money or prestige or whatever the hell else was in it for him. But he'd chosen the job over me, so it was clear what he truly cared about.
The indignation got my blood flowing, and I felt much better being pissed off than I did being upset. By the time I was dressed and ready to head downstairs to breakfast, I actually hoped to run into Haze so I could give him a piece of my mind. If he cared so much for his job, more than he cared for me, then he needed to start doing it better. After all, I'd given him the slip more than once.
“Leighton, I'm surprised to see you up so early,” Grandfather said as I entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, Warden,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I'm surprised to see you too. After yesterday, I would've thought I'd be sentenced to solitary confinement.”
“Very funny,” he said without smiling. “I hear you ran into a friend of mine yesterday. Dean Phillips?”
I turned towards the coffee pot to hide my wince. “Sure, Dean. He's got a great new car.”
“He's not appropriate company for you, Leighton.”
I sighed. “Is that all you want to tell me?”
“Why?” Grandfather suddenly sounded tense. “Have you talked to Haze this morning? What did he say?”
I gave him a puzzled look. “No, I haven't seen Haze. Why?” My eyes narrowed. “What's going on?”
Grandfather tried to look nonchalant as he sipped his coffee, but it was too late. I'd seen the worry on his face, and I knew he was keeping something from me. I had a sinking suspicion that whatever it was, it was the same 'serious' thing Haze had wanted to talk to me about.
“Grandfather, what is it?” I asked. For once, I hoped he'd treat me like an adult. Trust me.
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “I just heard Haze returning late last night and wondered if you'd seen him or knew what he'd been out doing.”
So much for him trusting me.
“Haze went out?” I asked, fastening onto a detail that I could actually get information about. “Without me?”
Grandfather snorted, apparently amused. “Yes. I gave him the night off and, according to the gardener, Haze went to Tulsa's for a drink.”
I could tell my grandfather was still hiding something, but his diversion tactic was working. What had Haze been doing at Tulsa's? I knew the little restaurant with its back barroom. I could picture the kind of women who frequented it, and how they must have thrown themselves at Haze. My stomach twisted at the thought. I didn't even want to think about how he'd responded.
“Now that I have your attention, Leighton,” Grandfather interr
upted my thoughts. “Why don't we discuss the rest of your plans for this week?”
“You mean working on the chain gang and a little time in the yard, Warden?” I joked.
I could see my Grandfather was taking a deep breath to begin the same old lecture, so when my phone rang, I grabbed it. Shit. It was Paris. I felt the urge to throw the phone across the room, but forced myself to answer it anyway.
“Sorry, Grandfather. I have to take this,” I said. I scurried away before he could argue with me. Once I'd escaped into the hallway, I interrupted Paris' chatter. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Then why did you pick up?” Paris asked.
“I needed to get out of a lecture from the old man,” I said. “Goodbye, Paris.”
“No, wait, Leighton, please! I have to tell you about Ricky.”
Was she fucking kidding me?
“You have to tell me something about Ricky? The last time I saw you, he was coming on your back. I think that's about all I want to know.”
“Leighton, please, he told me you were in an open relationship, but that's not important right now.”
“It's not important that my best friend slept with my boyfriend?” I asked.
“No, I mean, yes, but not right now. Ricky's hurt, Leighton. Someone beat him up. He's got a black eye, and his jaw is swollen. He can barely talk, but he's asking for you.”
He was with her. Go figure. I could just picture Paris fluttering over him, happily playing the sexy nurse. I felt sick. “What were you two doing when it happened?”
“I wasn't with him,” Paris said. “He was out and a guy just attacked him.”
“Out at a bar, I assume. Fooling around with some woman, right? I bet it was a jealous boyfriend. Not everyone goes for his open relationship bullshit.”
“Are you even listening to yourself?” Paris's voice was harsh. “Ricky is hurt and all you can do is accuse him of flirting with someone else?”
I wanted to ask her how she dared to lecture me on appropriate relationships, but Paris was right. Ricky was hurt, and all I could think was that he'd probably gotten what he deserved, that he'd been cheating on me. Again. Or should it have been still? Had he ever really stopped?
“We're supposed to be exclusive now,” I said. “After...you, Ricky begged me to take him back and promised it was just the two of us.”
“He says you ditched him at the hotel; that you ran off after your brother left.”
Her words cut deeper than I liked. They were true, after all. I had been the one who'd run off, leaving him in the hotel room with my only thought being my escape. I'd even been fooling around with someone when Ricky and I were supposed to be exclusive.
I'd been the one cheating this time.
“Seriously, Leighton. Ricky's hurt. You should get over here.”
I felt a bit bad for what I'd done, but it was nothing compared to everything he'd put me through. And it had made me realize something.
I didn't want Ricky. I'd stayed with him through all of his bullshit because he was familiar and he kept coming back. Aside from the fact that he couldn't keep his dick in his pants and I had no interest in an open relationship, I didn't feel anything for him anymore. I hadn't for a long time.
But we had been together for years and, no matter what he'd done, he at least deserved this to happen in person. I doubted he'd have done the same for me, but I was a better person...or at least I was going to try to be.
“Tell Ricky I'll be there shortly.”
I hung up the phone and decided to brave the kitchen again in order to get more coffee. I would've preferred something stronger before going to break up with Ricky, but I knew I'd have to settle for the caffeine to help keep my head clear.
I stopped before I'd gone more than a few steps into the kitchen. I wasn't alone, but it wasn't my grandfather in front of me.
Haze stood in front of the refrigerator with the freezer door open. As I watched, he fumbled with the ice tray and a few cubes clattered to the floor. He bent to pick them up, tucking his hand behind his back as he stood up. His eyes landed on me, widened, then a blank mask slipped over his face.
“Good morning,” Haze said.
“I'm glad you're here,” I said. “We're going to Ricky's, so you'll need to get ready.”
His jaw flexed and he gritted his teeth. “To Ricky's?”
“Yes, apparently he was beat up. Some kind of bar fight or something, and he's asking to see me.” I forced myself to stop talking. Haze didn't need the details.
“Just an innocent victim, right?” Haze asked.
“Is that so hard to believe?” I turned from the coffee maker and noticed Haze settling a bag of ice cubes onto his knuckles. I frowned. “What happened to you?”
“Come on,” Haze said harshly. “We better get you over to Ricky's. He probably needs you to nurse his wounds or his ego.”
“Just say it.” I stepped in front of Haze before he could leave the kitchen. “You've been dying to pass judgement on my relationship, so here's your chance. Tell me.”
“There's nothing I can tell you that you don't already know,” Haze said, not meeting my eyes.
“Stop being so high and mighty,” I snapped. “Tell me what's wrong with me dating Ricky.”
Haze finally looked at me, his eyes narrowed and darkened to near black. “Whatever you two are doing isn't dating. People who are dating respect each other, care for each other. They don't toss each other's hearts around like empty candy wrappers.”
I was silent for a moment, surprised by the intensity of his reply.
“Are you going to refuse to take me over there?” I finally asked.
“I should.” He glared at me. “Someone should keep you away from that waste. You can do better than that, Leighton.” He shook his head. “What's wrong with you?”
“What's wrong with me?” I stared at him. Was he kidding? “What's wrong with you? You're so busy judging me that you didn't even bother to ask why I was going.” My voice echoed off the high kitchen ceiling. “I'm not an idiot. You don't think I know he was out at some bar last night fooling around with some woman?”
“So you know?” Haze looked almost relieved. He took the ice off his knuckles and I saw the raw, scraped flesh across his knuckles. “I'm sorry, Leighton. I saw him and I just lost it.”
The realization hit me. “Wait. You're the one who beat him up?”
“I saw him come in, and then he was all over some blonde and I couldn't...” Haze shook his head again. His voice softened. “I just wish you were with someone better, someone who deserves you. Someone who wants you the way you want them.”
I couldn't breathe. Haze wasn't looking at me, but the tension in the room had shifted. This was a turning point, I knew. I could acknowledge what he said, what it meant. Or I could walk away.
I made my decision and set down my coffee cup. I crossed the short distance between Haze and myself, slipping my arms around Haze's neck. I felt him go stiff with shock, but I didn't stop myself.
I raised myself on my toes and murmured against his lips, “I want you.”
And then I kissed him.
Chapter 18
Leighton
When my mouth brushed over his, Haze stepped back and bumped into the counter. He leaned against it, but I didn't let him go. He was almost a foot taller than me, but leaning against the counter, I was able to step between his legs and keep my mouth against his.
I felt his hands hesitate. He gripped the counter, then let them land lightly on my hips. Once I felt the heat of his arms around me, I deepened the kiss, teasing the seam of his mouth. For a moment, I thought he'd push me away, but his lips opened to mine. The kitchen disappeared, the mistakes and barriers melted between us. For one wonderful moment, there was nothing between the two of us but the heat from our bodies and the searing electricity of the kiss.
Then his shoulder muscles tensed under my hands and I knew the moment was over. He started to pull back, clearly fighting himself as h
e stole a few more tastes of my lips. Then his hands hardened and he tried to push me away. I refused to go, keeping my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. He dropped his gaze, unable to look at me.
“It's over with Ricky,” I said, teasing the hair at the base of Haze's neck.
“Good for you,” he said. “Let's get you over there so you can tell him.”
I ran my fingers across his cheekbone. “He can wait a little longer. Why can't you look at me?”
Finally, he shifted his eyes to mine and gave me a sad smile. “I'm sorry, Leighton. This is wrong.”
He tried to push me away again even as his eyes roamed over my face. When I pressed myself even more tightly to him, he groaned and dropped his mouth to mine for one more light, savoring kiss. Then he shifted against the counter, but I didn't let him go.
He sighed. “Let me go.”
“No,” I said, my tone as stubborn as the set of my jaw. “Why? Are you scared my grandfather is going to discover us?”
“Yes,” Haze said. “The first and most important reason why we can't do this. He and I just want what's best for you.”
“And what if that's you?” I asked. “What if you're just what I need?” I thought about it for a moment, and then spoke again. “I think my grandfather would approve. You're definitely not the kind of man I usually go for.”
“I know. Being with me is a mistake,” Haze said.
I held on to his neck despite the pressure from his pushing hands and sought his gaze again. “It's alright. This is what I want. We can stop trying to avoid it.”
He reached up and gently but firmly, undid my arms from his neck. “There's nothing to avoid. It won't work between us.”
I let go of him and stepped back. It hurt more than I expected. I didn't understand. Haze was the opposite of the well-dressed, slick, rich, privileged man I was normally attracted to. He was working class, army trained, entirely too muscular, and stubbornly proud of his Spartan lifestyle. He didn't have anything I usually went after.
“What wouldn't work?” I asked, refusing to acknowledge everything I'd just thought. “We're together all the time. We're definitely compatible in the bedroom, and we haven't killed each other yet. Why couldn't we be something more?”
