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Rage

Page 22

by Michelle Pace

do.” Cheyenne murmured. Liam was sucking his thumb and

  cuddling into her. Distressed, Christopher looked off in the di-

  rection to which Steph had retreated and then turned and left in the opposite direction.

  Phillip heaved what looked like a sigh of relief and turned

  to Cheyenne. He frowned as if seeing Liam for the first time.

  “Let’s get the boy out of the rain.

  Cheyenne tilted her head to the side condescendingly. “I

  can take care of Liam, Phillip. Just go get her.” As the gentle rain turned to an outright downpour, he did just that.

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  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Stephanie stumbled along a path in the darkness gasping to

  catch her breath. She came to a halt and leaned against a palm

  tree, removing her heels. They were expensive, impractical, and

  blue. Coincidently, so was she.

  The rain picked up and she quickly debated about which di-

  rection to turn. She needed shelter, but her room wasn’t an op-

  tion. Christopher would be there. And she’d just torpedoed her

  life with Christopher. Stellar. Talley up one more person hurt by her actions or inactions.

  Quite the growing legacy, Red. Her inner chastisement

  came to her in Pace Turner’s deep voice.

  She wandered further down the rocky path, gingerly ma-

  neuvering her bare feet over the slick ground. Her direction

  seemed purposeful, though consciously, she was wandering.

  Phillip. There was no denying the truth. She loved him. She

  was in love with him. Worse, she had been all along.

  She made a choking sound as she tried to suppress an angry

  sob. It filled her with sorrow that it had taken so long for her to finally admit it to herself. And like a complete jackass, she’d

  done so in front of him. She wanted to scream and claw her face, but she was far too tired. She’d wasted so much time and energy

  lying to herself. She passed an amber bungalow and saw Saffron

  lounging on the porch, smoking under the overhang.

  “Hello!” Saffron called. “Need a place to dry off?”

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  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  “Thanks, I won’t melt.” Steph replied, but a second later she

  was walking. She turned and approached the waif, who pushed

  away from her chair and placed her cigarette to her bright red

  lips. Steph paused at the bottom of the steps. She was a foot from shelter, but didn’t feel like she deserved it.

  When she finally spoke, Steph lifted her chin defiantly.

  “Which bungalow is Phillip’s?”

  Saffron smiled as she exhaled a long cloud of smoke. This

  wasn’t Saffron’s usual double entendre dirty joke smile, though.

  This smile seemed to come from a place of genuine pleasure,

  like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. “His is the

  second on down.”

  “Thanks, Saffron.” Steph went back out into the rain and

  didn’t turn back when Saffron called out after her.

  “Just once I wish someone would write a song like that for me. Snog him once for me!”

  Phillip’s clothes were soaking wet once again. He’d been on

  a mission to find Steph, frantic to see where she was with things, to see what her admission meant for them. If it meant anything at all.

  He’d searched all of the public areas of the resort for her,

  but to no avail. He got an unfortunately eyeful of Yara’s mom

  stuffing money into the pants of an oily male stripper as he wandered through the restaurant. Due to the rain, the dining area had been commandeered for the bachelorettes. As he watched the

  strippers grind on the tables, he reminded himself to eat off-site for the rest of his stay. Yara cheered her mom on and danced

  with Kara on a nearby table. David’s blushing bride wore a pair

  of glow in the dark sunglasses with a penis jutting out where her nose should be. Phillip paused to watch the bridesmaids do a

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  body shot off a second stripper.

  Girls Gone Wild, Noronha.

  That’s when he noticed that every female in the wedding

  entourage was present and accounted for except for Cheyenne

  and Steph. Figuring Steph might have doubled back to Chey-

  enne’s, he went back out into the storm. As the door closed be-

  hind him, he heard Saffron call his name over the thumping mu-

  sic, but ignored her. He was a man on a mission and besides,

  he’d forgotten to pack a g-string.

  He checked Scot and Cheyenne’s bungalow, but Chey-

  enne—who’d been tucking Liam under the covers—said she

  hadn’t seen her anywhere. When he speculated that maybe he

  should check her room, Cheyenne cautioned against it, arguing

  that Christopher had moved in that morning. She said she doubt-

  ed very much that Steph had gone back there. Phillip hoped she

  was right. Stephanie was predictably unpredictable.

  Defeated, he figured he should at least make an appearance

  at the bachelor party, which was being held in Nathan’s bunga-

  low. When he arrived, he saw the other band members sitting

  around a card table playing poker and smoking cigars. There

  were three blow up dolls tossed around as some sort of half-

  assed décor, and a giant Love Swing hung in the center of the

  room. Phillip strongly suspected that the final item wasn’t for the bachelor party.

  “Wow.” Nathan removed his Cuban from his lips and took

  in Phillip’s appearance with outright amusement. “Do you own

  any clothes that are dry clean only?”

  “Bugger off.” He sighed dispassionately as he took his

  place at the table. “Deal me in.”

  “Bout time you got here.” Bret handed him a cold beer.

  Phillip popped it open and chugged it in an effort to catch up. A moment later, he crushed it and stood to grab another one.

  “A bit thirsty tonight, Phil?” David stifled a laugh. Scot, his

  cigar clamped between his teeth, cocked an eyebrow at Phillip as 191

  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  he popped his second can open.

  “Yep. What did I miss?” Phillip responded. He intended to

  shove all thoughts of Steph out of his mind. He had no idea what to make of her declaration, but until he found her, it was pretty pointless to speculate.

  “I just explained to David that if he needs it, I have a yacht

  on standby. Storm or no storm, we can make a quick getaway if

  he’s changed his mind.” Nathan’s retort was met with eye rolls

  all around.

  “Are you taking him up on that offer, D.J. Dave?” Phillip

  tilted his head in David’s direction. David smiled and flicked the ashes off his cigar with a shake of his head.

  “No. She’s my soul mate. Even though she’s been the engi-

  neer of The Crazy Train this week, she’s my one and only.”

  “Ahhhhh…” Nathan said, fanning himself sardonically,

  “It’s all so sweet I just want to vomit.”

  David smirked at him and flipped him a backward V.

  “So,” David started, “Scot and Bret: as the experienced

  husbands I know, any words of wisdom?”

  Bret chortled. “I’m pretty sure I’m the last one here you

  want marital advice from.”

  “Hey…stop with all that. You two are just going through a

  rough patch. This is all still fixable, as long as you manage to keep your John Thomas in your pa
nts till we get home,” Scot

  assured him. Bret appeared doubtful, but Phillip nodded in

  agreement and put a cigar to his lips. Nathan tossed him a Zippo which he snatched out of the air.

  “Have you spoken with her?” David asked him softly, as if

  trying not to wake a sleeping bear. Bret stared at his cards intently. He shook his head.

  “She won’t answer her phone. I don’t even know if she’s

  alive or dead.”

  “She took Steph’s call the other night at the bar.” Nathan

  offered. Bret shot him a stunned look, as did everyone else at the 192

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  table. “So she’s most definitely alive.”

  Suddenly Bret seemed to crumble, and his voice broke as he

  spoke. “What did I do? I don’t understand why we can’t make

  this right.”

  Scot, David, and Phillip exchanged concerned looks.

  “You’ll work it out. Steph obviously knows something, so

  press her for details. When we get home, find Sarah and make

  her talk to you.” Scot suggested, putting a supportive hand on

  Bret’s shoulder.

  Bret nodded. “If Fury’s this much of a problem, I’ll

  leave…but if she doesn’t want me, this is my livelihood, and it’s all I have. I feel like I’m at a crossroads, and I have no idea which direction to turn.”

  Bret stood suddenly and tore off for the restroom. Nathan

  threw his cards down on the table and picked up his scotch.

  “Everything is a soap opera with you blokes these days.”

  Scot turned on Nathan and surveyed him like a strange life

  form. “One of these days Nathan, some woman is going to reach

  into your chest and yank out your still beating heart. Then you’ll finally get it.”

  “I highly doubt that will ever happen.” Nathan chuckled as

  he blew out smoke in perfectly shaped O’s.

  Phillip shook his head and finished his second beer. “Oh,

  it’ll happen. And you’ll look back on the simplicity of this time in your life, and you’ll still want her. Then you’ll know you’re in love, and you’ll be as right fucked as the rest of us.”

  All eyes turned to Phillip. There was a collective silence as

  the three men seemed to communicate silently.

  “Something you’d like to talk about Phillip? Some feelings

  you’d like to share?” Nathan purred in his typically taunting

  way. From the restroom came the familiar sound of Bret heaving

  up his dinner.

  “Same old, same old. Nothing new with me,” Phillip replied

  and grabbed a third beer. David plucked it from his hand.

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  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  “There’s only one toilet in this bungalow, and Bret’s al-

  ready puking in it. Slow the hell down.”

  Phillip took it back from him and popped it open. “Leave

  me alone.”

  Bret stumbled out of the restroom. He was pale, with red-

  rimmed eyes. David stood up.

  “Dude, it’s time for you to drink a liter or two of water and

  get a night’s sleep. I don’t need you looking green at the wed-

  ding.”

  “Yep,” Nathan agreed. “Let’s get Cinderella home before

  she turns into a pumpkin.”

  David and Nathan dragged Bret out the door. Scot gathered

  the abandoned playing cards into a pile. Phillip stacked the poker chips and began to toss beer cans in the garbage.

  “Party killer.” Scot joked.

  Phillip smirked. “You ditching me?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to take this opportunity to go be with my

  wife and son. I’m pretty surprised you even showed up here to-

  night.”

  Phillip tamped out his cigar in one movement. “Why’s

  that?”

  “Cheyenne told me.” Scot’s face left no doubt what he was

  referring to. “What do you want Kersey? An engraved bloody

  invitation?”

  Scot walked out the door and left Phillip alone. With no fur-

  ther distraction, he let the gravity of the truth sink in. Steph had said it. The words. And now he was afraid. Knowing Christopher was no longer an obstacle and there was no bathroom door to

  shield them from one another gave him pause. There was noth-

  ing at all standing between them now, and he felt like a man teetering on the edge of a cliff. Too jump or not to jump, that was the question.

  He ran a hand over his damp hair and knew he was kidding

  himself. He’d never had a choice at all when it came to Stepha-

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  nie. Their fate was in her hands. If he’d have found her on his

  hunt earlier, he would have done whatever she asked. He fin-

  ished his final beer and wandered outside into the night. He

  slowly trudged back to his bungalow, having exhausted his

  search for her and exhausted himself in the process. Stephanie knew how to find him. And she knew where he lived. She’d

  come to him when she was ready, or she wouldn’t. And he’d just

  deal with whatever she decided. He kicked glumly at a rock in

  his path and focused on the calming sound of the water as it

  crashed against the rocks below.

  He approached the bungalow and saw someone near the

  door. His heart hummed like a freshly tuned engine as he drew

  close. It was her. Stephanie sat on his porch, slumped against his door. Her eyes were closed and her arms hugged her knees close

  to her chest. She looked like she’d been there for some time, like she might even be sleeping.

  He took the first step, and the sound of his footstep made

  her open her eyes. She instantly pulled herself to standing. He

  closed the distance between them and paused, waiting to see

  what she would say or do. Neither of them spoke or moved for

  what seemed like forever. Phillip stood his ground; she needed to make the first move this time.

  Stephanie stepped forward and looped her fingers in his belt

  loop, pulling him into her. She was on her tiptoes, and her fin-

  gers were on his neck, pulling his face down toward hers. She

  embraced him, one arm around his neck and one grasping his

  cheek. She planted a kiss on his forehead, his cheek, and his nose as if claiming each as her territory.

  “What changed your mind?’ he whispered, his voice sound-

  ing horse. He felt her cheek against rub against his as she continued to cling to him. She pulled back and ran a hand over his

  stubble. Her guarded eyes found his.

  “Nothing. I’m just done running,” she whispered, matching

  his gaze boldly. She pulled his lips to hers, and Phillip fell into 195

  TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

  her breathless, pressing the full length of his body against her.

  Their tongues danced, and his heart slammed against the wall of

  his chest. As her kisses slowed to a tease, he blindly fumbled

  with the doorknob beside her. He felt it release, and he wrapped his arm around her waist as the door fell away.

  He guided her as if they were dancing backwards into his

  room, never removing his mouth from hers. She raked her hands

  through his hair, letting out a squeal as he groped her round ass.

  He pulled the decorative comb from her hair and watched with

  admiration as her hair toppled around her shoulders. Steph barely seemed to notice; her mouth was on his neck, and her fingers

  worked eagerly on the buckle of his belt.

  Phillip g
rabbed her wrist, pulling them away from his fly.

  He shook his head. She pulled back, eyeing him doubtfully.

  “Don’t move.” He ordered and then walked around behind

  her in a slow semicircle. He brushed her long copper hair aside, and he planted several wet kisses on the back of her exposed

  neck. She sighed blissfully and arched back against him. He felt a sinful grin playing on his lips. He always loved the way she

  responded to him, and he was thrilled that time hadn’t dulled her enthusiasm. He slowly inched down the zipper of her dress, and

  when it fell open, he pushed the damp material over her shoul-

  ders. He trailed his fingertips along her spine, enamored with her soft ivory skin. The dress fell to the floor around her ankles, and a soft moan escaped her.

  He reached out and unfastened her see-through bra with a

  single flick of his fingers. It immediately joined her dress on the floor. She visibly shivered as he completed his circle around her and stood before her biting his lip thoughtfully. He ran his index finger from her throat to her navel, dropping to his knees to plant soft kisses on each breast, her stomach, and her scar. He looked up at her suddenly, wanting her to see that its presence had no

  impact on his desire for her. He descended further south and

  planted wet kisses in several more interesting places on her anat-196

  RAGE

  omy that left her gasping.

  He sat back on his heels and offered her his hand. Her eyes

  were glassy with desire as she took it for support and stepped out of her dress. He stood and she tugged on his hand, beckoning

  him to the canopied bed that dominated the room. He paused and

  watched as she crawled across the comforter, enjoying the shape

  of her nearly nude body as she moved away from him. When she

  rolled onto her back, she gave him a welcoming look.

  Phillip slowly removed his clothes, his eyes glued to Steph-

  anie’s. He hated to blink, for fear that it was all a glorious dream and that she’d evaporate like an apparition. When he was finally nude, he joined her, and she attacked him. As she straddled his

  lap and their lips met, there was no denying it. They were back.

  Their otherworldly magnetism hadn’t faded. Her touch seared

  him like the white hot heat of the sun, and her responses left no doubt she felt the same.

  Inpatient, he flipped her over on her stomach. He reveled at

  the warm smooth flesh or her ass which she pressed back against

 

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