by MK Meredith
Bel admitted her own mother would fit the bill on crazy, but luckily the woman never willingly had anything to do with her or Gage. After the wedding, she and Sam became friends, and they pulled Addi along…with Raquel, of course. Sometimes, Sam’s mom, Dee, showed up.
She got out of the car and walked up to the big, arched, wooden front door. Actually, now that she thought about it, Raquel may have started it all. The group of them met regularly, and every now and then Addi’s best friend, Chase Huntington, joined them as well.
At least whenever she was in town and not running all over the world on business. Last she’d heard, the Huntingtons were looking to open a new hotel in Ferrara, Italy.
“There you are, darling!” Raquel rushed her into the living room.
Addi bounced up from one of the velvet tufted couches. “Where have you been? We thought you'd never get here.” She lifted a glass half filled with wine. “Hate to say it, but we started the party without you. Sorry not sorry!” She pulled Bel into a tight hug.
Sam poured a glass of wine then joined them, handing the glass to Bel. In the flurry of excitement, Bel swore she could smell Jimmy's cologne. It left her with a giddy feeling in her gut. What the hell was happening? She must be losing her mind.
“How's the photoshoot going?” Addi asked.
Sam sunk to the couch next to her sister. “After seeing the two of you together this morning, I'm dying to know as well.”
Raquel had a peculiar sparkle to her eye. “Yes, darling, how is your project coming along?”
Bel’s laugh sounded a bit nervous, a bit overwhelmed, and a bit more than way too interested. She mentally berated herself. “I don't even know yet. I met him out at Leo Carrillo, but I have yet to see any of his work concerning my seminar. Not too sure this is such a great idea. In the short time I've spent with him, I already feel like he’s everywhere, for Pete’s sake.”
She hated to say the words aloud, but she worried if she didn’t, she’d lose it. “I swear I can even smell him here.”
Raquel's laugh was filled with delight. “Well, of course you can, darling. You just missed that hunk of love when you arrived.”
Surprise washed through Bel but shouldn’t have—Raquel was very important to many people in Malibu. She and Martin had been mentoring young, up-and-coming film industry professionals ever since she could remember.
But hunk of love. Was she serious?
“What was he doing here?”
Raquel's rings glittered in the low light as she waved her hand with a casual air. “Oh, he was only here for a few minutes, sadly. I'd love for him and his guest to have stayed longer.”
A spark of interest set off flutters in Bel’s chest. “A guest? Who was with him?”
She tried to sound as disinterested as she could though the answer seemed way more important than it ever should.
“I couldn't say,” Raquel answered.
“Why wouldn’t you be able to say?”
Raquel sunk onto the couch opposite Sam and Addi, patting the space next to her.
She placed a hand on Bel’s knee. “Jimmy Callahan is a special man, and there is a lot more to him than meets the eye. If he wants you to know more about his life, you're going to have to wait until he’s ready to open up.”
Now that got her attention. “I’ve got to be honest with you here, Raquel. I never knew he had anything to open up about. Outside of motorcycles and photography, he seems to be a pretty simple man.”
Addi snorted. “There is nothing simple about Jimmy Callahan. Interesting, yes, intimidating, most definitely, sexy as hell, clearly.”
Sam slapped at her sister playfully. “You’re ridiculous. How does Roque even put up with you?”
Addi's glow seemed to be from the inside out. “I don't know, but I am so damn glad he does.”
The look on her friend's face transformed from silly to dreamy. She and her fiancé had gotten off to a rocky start. She'd almost lost the home left to her by her namesake and the love of her life by playing games. But Addi was stronger than most and grew up just in time.
The ladies continued to banter back and forth, but all Bel could think about was who had been with Jimmy. No doubt he was interesting, but she had trouble pinpointing exactly why.
Because there were too many reasons.
Maybe she judged him too harshly the first night they'd met, but to be fair, monitoring her calories had been a dumb move on his part. It was a trigger for her since she was constantly trying to actually gain weight.
When her friends spoke about Jimmy, they obviously knew so much more about him than she did.
And that was an unsettling feeling.
She preferred all her cards to be on the table…face up. To have all the information so she could weigh her risk and reward and calculate smartly before making a move. But by the way they all clearly felt about her new photographer, instead of a simple biker who liked to take pictures, he seemed much more of an enigma.
A wild card.
And it intrigued her, which was the last thing she needed in her life.
CHAPTER 6
Saturday evening, Bel quietly pushed her car door shut and looked around the parking lot of Pepperdine University's library. The sun had already disappeared from the horizon, and the dark velvet sky was a stunning backdrop to the ocean waves crashing against the shore below.
With the library’s striking peaked roofs and stained-glass windows, if there was ever a more divine place on earth, Bel couldn't say where it existed.
The library had always been a haven for her. Order and quiet, she knew what to expect every time she walked through the doors. That kind of predictability was a gift in a life full of chaos.
“You made it.” The low rumble of Jimmy's voice came from behind, and she spun around on a gasp, unsure of what surprised her more—his unexpected appearance or the surprising sensation that rode along her nerve endings at the sound of his voice.
“What are we doing here? Are you thinking of getting some nighttime photos of the library?”
He hoisted his bag over his broad shoulder and winked. She felt the damn gesture all the way to her toes and looked away out of principle.
“In a manner of speaking.”
His words set off a louder alarm over all the warning bells already clanging in her head. “What does ‘in a manner of speaking’ mean?”
Her reputation at the university was very important to her. Not only for her own sake but that of her father. The university had a strict code of conduct, and though at times it felt tedious, it provided the order and predictability that she craved.
“We're going in.” He threw his heavy arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the door.
She immediately resisted, which only served to push her deeper within the circle of his arm, her body absorbing the heat of his with a greedy urgency. She tried to step away, but he tightened his hold. “Look at that. I don't know that anyone has fit quite so perfectly.”
Bel couldn’t deny the truth of his words. She did seem to tuck just right into the crook of his arm and side.
Which made it all the more important to pull away. That kind of comfort, that feeling of belonging, served to increase feelings of loss when the end inevitably came.
She cleared her throat and stepped away. “You never answered my question. What exactly are we doing here?”
Jimmy laughed, taking her off guard. “You are one of the prickliest personalities I have ever met, professor. And damned if it doesn't turn me on.”
Her jaw dropped before she realized it, and she struggled to lift it back into place. She wasn’t sure whether to reply to being called prickly or the fact that this man was in any way turned on by her. And as heat infused her chest and cheeks, the mortifying truth that she wanted him too was what finally slapped her out of her fog. Narrowing her eyes at him, she muttered, “I'm not prickly; I'm practical. And don’t call me professor.”
Because when he did, it sounded way naughtier
than it should.
She raked her eyes over him as if searching for his purpose for living. “I imagine a guy like you is turned on by just about anything.”
“And you'd be wrong for a second time in one night.”
She laughed in his face. “Wrong for the second time? I think you're overly tired, my friend, or the ocean air is getting to you.”
He reached out and twirled a strand of her wavy, blond hair around a finger. “You're not practical…you're just scared.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he released the strand and placed his finger over her lips. “And as hard as I've tried to fight it, I haven't been turned on by any woman in a long time as much as I am by you.”
His words were the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. Or at least that was what she told herself as her heart sped in her chest.
“Oh, really.” She snorted. “You're turned on by a stick-thin woman with less curves than you have? I doubt that.” She moved to turn away, but his warm hand slid around her biceps, pulling her back to him.
“Self-deprecation does not become you. You know damn well how sexy you are. You walk around as if strutting down a Victoria’s Secret runway without even trying.”
“I do not!” Now he was just being absurd.
He quirked a brow and gestured his hands toward her body. “Even as we speak, you have your chest puffed out so far that the swell of your breasts is teasing me, your hip jutted out to the side, making me want to wrap my hands around them. As a matter of fact, if you don't believe me, stay exactly where you are. If you move, I know you're lying.”
She froze, refusing to be considered a liar though she had no idea what the hell he was talking about.
He took the cap off the lens of his camera and raised it to his eye, snapping off a few shots.
“What are you doing?” Was she ever going to understand this man?
“Proving my point,” he said. “You’re sexy as hell.”
Her years of training told her how dimwitted she was to be affected by his words, but the woman in her loved the idea of being seen as sexy by the man who, no doubt, inspired more than a million bad boy wet dreams in all of the women he met…including her own girlfriends.
Shit.
J immy watched the conflicting expressions play over Bel's face and swore he'd give his next gallery option to know what was going on in her mind.
She liked to come off as all tough and unaffected, but she was one of the most expressive women he'd ever met, and it spoke to a side of him that wished he could be the same. The only person in his life who he trusted his heart to was Cleo. She had been a gift to a couple of boys who hadn’t seen much light in their days.
A gift he didn’t deserve.
But his brother had. If only he’d taken Jack’s problem more seriously, focused on getting him the help he needed rather than making him take responsibility himself.
But no one could tell Jimmy shit. He was always right.
Until he wasn’t.
Now, the only answer was taking care of Cleo.
He didn’t deserve redemption, but she did deserve a life worth living.
Shoving his hand through his hair, he tried to crack his neck to relieve the growing tension.
He cleared his throat, focusing on his task at hand, chuckling to himself at the idea of Bel ever learning that thought had crossed his mind. She would appreciate being someone's task about as much as she appreciated his very flawed attempt to limit her eggnog last Christmas.
“All right, let's do this.”
She blinked twice at him as if hearing his voice took her by surprise. “Do what exactly? I am a professor here. You realize that, right? I will not do anything that is illegal.”
He chuckled and started walking toward the library. She stutter-stepped beside him, trying to keep up. But she did follow, so that gave him hope. Deep down, she wasn't so averse to adventure as she wanted everyone to believe, at least not at an unconscious level, or she would have already hightailed it out of the parking lot.
“Where’re you going?” Her frustration was very apparent in her tone.
He made a beeline to the back entrance of the library, then pulled out a flashlight. “Here, unlock the door.”
She put her hands on her hips, and he snapped a picture.
“What the hell? Put that camera away.”
“No.”
“Breaking and entering is not on my syllabus.”
Her no-nonsense professor tone shot a lick of interest straight to his dick. What he wouldn’t give to have her tell him what to do in the bedroom. “This isn’t breaking and entering. You’re a professor here. You’ve got a key for a reason.”
“And there are hours of operation for a reason,” she retorted, and damn him if she didn't stamp her foot.
“You agreed to go on a few adventures with me. We’re not going to hurt anything or be disrespectful to this beautiful building. Now open the door.” He couldn’t remember a time that he’d wanted to throw a woman over his shoulder and take her home to bed, but he sure as hell was resisting the temptation right now.
He snapped a picture instead.
Her eyes were bright, her pupils dilated. The expression on her face was full of life. She wasn’t hiding anything, she wasn't avoiding anything. This was the Bel he wished she could see.
She unlocked the door, then quietly pushed it open. “I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into this. Library hours are posted for a reason. There’re too many precious things, including the building itself, to just let people come and go as they please. You’re going to get me fired, I just know it. I knew when everybody was recommending you that this would be a mistake…”
He followed behind her, listening to her rattle on, her nerves pushing each word from her mouth. “Give me a tour,” he said, cutting her off.
That stopped her short, and she peered over her shoulder. “A tour?” Her question sounded incredulous as if she was questioning his sanity.
“Why else would we be in here? To push you out of your comfort zone, sure, but with the beauty in this building, I know we can find some amazing shots.”
She shook her head but led the way, pointing out the different reference sections of books and including tidbits of history of the building. The ceilings were stories high, and the walls were graced with resplendent stained-glass windows like a cathedral. There was something reverent about libraries in general, but this one took it to a whole new level. He almost found himself whispering as though he’d entered a church.
“How often do you come here?” The question was rhetorical, but he really wanted to hear her answer. He continued to shoot as she spoke.
“I don't know.” She ran her hands along the smooth oak of the long meeting tables. “Daily at least. I came here as a student.” She turned, putting her hands on the back of a chair. “I was always in awe of the professors who worked here, including my dad. There’s an order to things, and when that order is maintained, things run smoothly.”
He narrowed his eyes, curious as to what happened to make such a beautiful woman so averse to opening her heart up to life. He'd heard rumors about an estranged mother, but he didn't know how Bel was all tied up in it.
“How old were you when your mom left?”
She froze in her spot and blinked at him as if he spoke another language. With her lips pressed together, she shook her head. “I don't want to talk about that.”
He snapped a few more pictures, loving how the moonlight soaked through the stained glass and cast an array of colors across her face. “Why?” he whispered, succumbing to his need to be close to her. Taking her hands, he gently rubbed a spot over her knuckles.
She stared at their hands. “She left when Gage and I were very young. He was eight, and I was barely six. She just walked out. Didn’t even hesitate when we cried out her name.”
Her lips trembled, and he wished he could take away her pain.
“Gage comforted me for hours, which couldn�
��t have been easy when he was so young and hurting himself.” She screwed up her face in regret. “I was mad at him when he went away to acting school, you know?”
She glanced at him, then opened her eyes wide as if surprised to find herself confiding in him. “Oh.” Clearing her throat, she looked away. “I'll show you my favorite place.”
He held her wrist to keep her from walking away, then lifted her hand, pressing his lips to her palm. She sucked in a breath, her eyes dilating in response. “Jimmy.” There was a slight tremble in her voice, and he wanted to hear her breathless again.
He slid his lips across her sensitive skin, holding her gaze as he made his way up the inside of her arm. The feel of her skin against his mouth and the fresh, sultry scent of her drifted to his nose and went straight to his dick, resulting in a rather strained situation.
But it didn't stop him as his fingers trailed over the fabric of her shirt to the exposed skin at her neck. He gently tilted her head to the side then followed his fingers with his lips once again.
“W-what are you doing?”
Damned if he knew.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she couldn't hide her arousal, which encouraged him further.
He grazed his teeth along the edge of her sharp jaw.
“Jimmy.” Her fingers flew to his forearm in a strong grip, but she did not push him away.
Slipping his fingers into her silky hair, he kneaded her scalp soothingly, and she moaned into the pressure. He cradled her head, dropping his lips a hairsbreadth from her own.
“You try to hide from life, Bel, but I've already found you. What’re we going to do about that?” he asked gruffly.
“Ignore it?” she murmured, flexing her fingers into his biceps.
At the pressure of her fingers, he lowered his lips even closer to hers, and she quit breathing. He was relieved because his own breath seemed seized within his lungs with no way out. With the slightest whisper, he grazed his lips against hers, then again with more pressure, and her body swayed toward his. The slight movement, the acquiescence, was more than he could resist.
