Gentle Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 4)

by James, Marysol

  Her brow furrowed. "Here? You mean in my bed?"

  He shrugged. "I don't care if I stay here with you or you move in to my place, but we're never spending a night apart again if we can help it."

  "Really?"

  "Really." He smoothed her hair back. "I'm never letting you go again. And something else on my mind? I think it’s time you met my friends.”

  “What?” Mirrie felt panicked at the mere thought of all those knowing eyes on her. “But – why?”

  “Because, babe.” Mac tugged her closer, lowered gentle lips to her forehead. “They’re gonna want to have your back.”

  “Why would they? I don’t know them… besides Naomi, I mean, and King a tiny bit.”

  “Because they care about me and I care about you.” Mac smiled, held those incredible violet eyes. “So they care about you, too.”

  “They do?”

  “Yeah, they do. So just let them, yeah? Don’t go all tough and lone wolf on them, don’t push them off and say you can do all this on your own. Let them in, just a bit. Let them care about you. OK?”

  She was silent, running her fingers over the muscles of his upper body, struggling with the idea of trusting a bunch of virtual strangers with the most private and painful events of her life. Shane grasped her hand, kissed the fingertips.

  “Mirrie? OK?”

  “Yes, OK,” she whispered. And as she agreed, something amazing happened: for the first time in a long, long time, Mirrie felt like she wasn’t all alone in her life. Like she had backup and protection.

  It felt damn good, she had to admit.

  **

  Naomi Abbott clutched her cup of coffee, took a few deep breaths. She was still a bit stunned and shocked at the way that what she’d thought were totally separate worlds had collided. She was actually quite surprised that her whole life hadn’t imploded on impact.

  In one world, she’d had Mirrie and AA. In the other, she’d had Matt and his secret ops work and his friends at Dangerous Curves. Sure, Matt had moved back and forth between the two worlds easily, but Naomi had never thought that Mirrie would burst out of the little AA universe. But holy hell – she sure had.

  The thought that Mirrie had a romantic history with Mac was astounding to contemplate. Naomi had known something about Mirrie’s family background, of course, but if truth be told, she hadn’t known all that much. Her friend had been incredibly tight-lipped about specifics, beyond her surname and her Dad and brother and a bit about being raised in an MC. Nothing at all about the beating that had almost killed her; definitely nothing about being heartbroken over the man that she’d kept alive.

  “Naomi? Honey, you OK?”

  She glanced up at Matt. “Sure I am. I’m just – mentally adjusting.”

  He grinned at her. “I know, right? But to tell you the truth… I kinda like the thought of Mac and Mirrie together.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Naomi shook her blonde head. “They’re both smart-asses, after all.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” King agreed. “Best to keep that kind of snark and sass contained, huh?”

  Naomi giggled. “Yeah. Good point.”

  The door of Jenny’s restaurant opened and Jax and Sarah came in, closely followed by Aidan and Gabi. Hugs and kisses were exchanged all around, more coffee was ordered and they settled down at the long table, chatting about the fact that Mac – the last single guy among them left standing – had fallen. Hard and fast and no apologies.

  When Mac and Mirrie walked in about ten minutes later, they were taken aback at the enthusiasm of the welcome they got. Mirrie was introduced to Sarah, Jax, Aidan and Gabi and she got hugs from Naomi and King. She felt oddly shy among Shane’s good friends, a bit awkward that they knew so much about her and she knew so little about them.

  She looked at the other women and was suddenly very self-conscious about her own appearance. She and Naomi were good friends, of course, and she’d always admired Naomi’s polished, stylish look. She was chic and stunning in a way that Mirrie just wasn’t and never would be. Sarah was a curvy redhead, a pale and lush natural beauty with almost no makeup on her sweet face – and she didn’t need any. And Gabi was all flashing black eyes and golden skin and tumbling dark waves of hair. She had a smoldering, sensual beauty that just jumped at you and knocked your breath from your chest.

  By comparison, Mirrie felt too flashy, too obvious, too aggressive and dramatic. She suddenly wanted to scrub off her dark eyeliner and red lipstick; take out a few of her face piercings; hide her tattoo under a collar; put a baggy gray sweater on over her tight top. But then Shane squeezed her hand and kissed her on the forehead, murmured that she was fucking beautiful. That was when she relaxed.

  “So,” Naomi said, her brown eyes bright. “You and Mac, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Mirrie looked down and blushed. “I had no idea you guys all knew each other.”

  “Small world,” Aidan commented. “Ain’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Mirrie said softly. “I suppose it is.”

  “OK, then.” As always, King more or less took charge. “Mirrie, honey… we’re not going to talk about the Fallen Angels today, alright? We’re not discussing any of that stuff.”

  That surprised her. “We’re not?”

  “Nope.” Jax grinned at her and she watched as his hard, rough face softened and opened. “We’re here for dinner and to get to know you a bit.”

  “You – you are?” She looked around at them. “You’re here for me?”

  “Yep.” Jax shot Mac a look. “We’re dying to know about the woman who took this guy down once and for all.”

  Mirrie looked puzzled. “Took him down?”

  “Jax,” Mac said, a note of warning in his voice.

  “Yeah.” Jax’s dark green eyes were dancing. “Did you know, Mirrie, that when I first got together with Sarah, Mac here called me a –”

  “Jax!” Mac almost hollered. “Shut it, man!”

  “And when I started to date Naomi,” King jumped in. “He said that I was –”

  “Shut. Up.” Mac hissed the words, horrified at what he’d said to the guys. He had, after all, teased them about being at the mercy of a woman’s wiles and having all their freedom just snatched away. Except he’d called them pussy whipped and idiots. Maybe he’d even meant it, just a little bit.

  “And he was merciless about me and Gabi,” Aidan added, thrilled to see that Mac was now the color of a beetroot. “Told me –”

  “Oh my fucking God,” Mac said, knowing that he was good and beaten. “OK, OK, I was an asshole when you all decided to get serious about your wonderful, amazing, gorgeous ladies. Is that what you wanted me to say?”

  Sarah, Naomi and Gabi laughed. They adored Mac, despite his previous very-vocal aversion to committed relationships, and had never taken anything he’d said very seriously. But the guys seemed less eager to let him off the hook, so the women just sat back and enjoyed the show.

  “It’s a good start,” Jax conceded. “But maybe you want to eat a bit more crow? Make it up to us?”

  “How?” Mac growled, imagining himself down on his hands and knees right here in this high-end restaurant, apologizing to the women for being such a dick.

  “Hmmmm.” Aidan tapped his chin, eyed Mac. “Oh, I know!”

  “I’m waiting with bated breath,” Mac grouched.

  “Dinner's on you, MacIntyre. Then we’ll call it even, yeah?” Aidan paused. “Oh, and I hear the lobster here is amazing.”

  Everyone burst in to laughter. Mac scowled but the corners of his mouth were twitching.

  “Fine,” he said gruffly and put his arm around Mirrie, who was alight with happiness. He glanced down at her, stunned at her beauty and smiled. “Get whatever you want… I’ll cough up the cash. Bankrupt me, if you must.”

  “Deal!” King said merrily. “Good damn thing I’m in the
mood for steak, huh?”

  “And I’ve never tried crème brûlée before,” Sarah piped up. “I think today’s the day!”

  Mirrie laughed again, relaxed against Shane’s chest, took a deep breath as a single thought came to her.

  Home. I’m actually home.

  Chapter Eight

  “Tell me about all of this stuff.”

  Mirrie raised her tousled head from Shane’s bare chest. “What stuff?”

  “This.” Gently, he ran his fingers over her neck tattoo, her piercings, her bright pink hair. “Why’d you decide to get it all done?”

  “Oh, right.” She nestled closer to his large body and he wrapped his arms around her naked curves. “Well, a few reasons, really.”

  “Hmmmm?” Mac pulled the bedcovers over her more tightly. “I’m listening.”

  Mirrie smiled. “Well, first and most obviously, to hide.”

  “From me?” he asked quietly and with no anger. He understood her choices now, he really did.

  “Partly, yeah. Partly I was trying to hide from the MC. But really, I was trying to disguise myself from everyone who may have known me before.”

  “Before you were Miranda Campbell.”

  “Right. I mean, like I told you, I left Denver when I was eleven, but I came back and worked here after I finished high school, so some people did know me from my office job.”

  “What kind of office?” Mac ran his fingers up and down her back, loving her silky skin. Fuck, he still couldn’t believe that she was here in his arms, in his bed. That he’d made love to her over and over again since the first time the night before. That she was warm and soft and so damn sweet all curled up against him. “What kind of people?”

  She grinned. “It was a candy factory, if you can believe it.”

  Mac laughed. “I can, actually. You and your sweet tooth would have been very happy there.”

  “Oh, we were.” She traced the tattoos that circled his biceps, followed their lines up his shoulders and across his chest. “The factory made chocolate bars and we always had some around the office… samples and presents and extras.” She glanced down at her body ruefully. “I managed to keep my weight under control at the office, but I know I’ve gained a lot since you last saw me – that’s from quitting smoking while working at The Web Café. Spider’s an incredible baker, damn him.”

  “Yeah, he is. And I like you like this.”

  She looked up and met his hot gaze. “You do?”

  “Ummmm. Yeah, babe.” His large hand was tracing the curve of her hip now, running down her thigh. He pulled her closer and kissed her softly. “I love your body. Love its shape.”

  “Really? You don’t miss the way I was before?”

  “Nah.” Mac shook his head. “Back then, you were so fragile. I worried about hurting you when we were together sometimes.”

  That surprised her. “You did?”

  “Oh, yeah. I knew what you’d been through, how badly you’d been damaged.” His blue eyes were hard with the rage that he always felt when he thought about what she’d endured. “I was careful with you.”

  “You were,” she said, remembering those large hands moving so tenderly on her. “Always.”

  “But now?” Mac flipped her under him and she gasped as he stretched the length of his hard, muscled body over her smaller one. “Now I can be more – energetic.”

  Mirrie smiled up at him. “I noticed.”

  “Did you?” He leaned down, took her lip ring between his teeth and tugged. She gasped again, then moaned when he kissed her, blazing-hot and intense. Her hands came up and tangled in his hair and he growled deep in his throat.

  “Shane,” she whispered.

  He heard something in her voice and he raised his head. “Right here, babe.”

  “I –” She hesitated.

  He stared down at her and smoothed her hair back from her face. “What?”

  “I – I missed you. So damn much.”

  “I know.” He tucked a few wild strands behind her ears. “I missed you too.”

  She was silent for a minute and he saw her gathering up courage for something.

  “What’s going on?” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

  Mirrie took a deep breath. “You go to Curves, right? You’re a regular?”

  “Yeah.” Mac was puzzled at the abrupt change in topic. “I hang out there with the boys a few times a week, when I’m not traveling and doing consultations.”

  “So you – you use the back rooms?” Mirrie forced out the next few words. “The fuck rooms?”

  Mac heard the fear and distaste in her voice and he tensed up a bit. God, the temptation to lie to her was immense, but secrets and lies had gotten them exactly nowhere so far. When Mirrie had fallen asleep in his arms the night before, he’d laid awake for hours, just holding her and listening to her breathe… and he’d promised himself to never keep anything from her. No matter what it was.

  “You want to talk about this?” he said, holding himself very still. “You sure?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “OK, then.” He sighed. “The truth, yeah?”

  “Yes.”

  “The truth is that after you disappeared, I wasn’t with anybody for over a year.”

  She blinked. “You – really?”

  “Really.” He rolled over on to his back, bringing her with him. Mirrie propped her chin up on her fist, rested on his chest. “I was waiting for you, babe. I was waiting for you to come back to me.”

  “Oh. Oh, God, Shane. I’m sorry.”

  “No more apologies about any of that,” he said, his voice gruff. “Not ever again, OK?”

  “…OK.”

  “At first, I was totally frantic and I barrelled off to the police. Stormed the fucking place and shouted until someone listened to me. Filed a missing person’s report, put up ‘Missing Woman’ posters all over the damn city.”

  “That was you?” Mirrie said, stunned. “You hung up those posters on the phone poles and in the stores?”

  He paused. “You saw them?”

  “Yeah, sure. They were everywhere for about three weeks.”

  “I know. I made sure of it.”

  “And I made sure to rip them down every time I saw one,” she admitted. “In fact, I’d sneak out late at night after Spider had fallen asleep and drive around and tear down every single one that I saw.”

  He stared at her for a second and then grinned. “So that was you, huh?”

  “Yep.” She half-smiled and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be.” His kiss took the sting out of his words. “I paid a damn fortune in photocopying fees.”

  Mirrie giggled. “I bet.”

  “Anyway, the cops didn’t take me seriously at all after about two days. I mean, your apartment showed no signs of foul play and all your personals were gone. Suitcase, toothbrush, clothes, phone, ID.” Mac stopped as the pain of his loss just hit him all over again. “They told me that it was clear you’d just cut and run. That you’d – left me. By choice.”

  “Shane…”

  “Hush, babe.” He touched her lips, stopped her words. “I know. It’s OK.”

  She took a breath, amazed yet again at being forgiven.

  “I tried to explain to them that the fact that all those things were missing didn’t necessarily mean anything. I mean, you’d been heading up to my cabin for a long weekend, so all of those things would have been with you when you disappeared. They weren’t very convinced, though, and then they lost interest completely when the apartment keys and the next month’s rent showed up in the mailbox downstairs, and your boss and landlord got apology notes.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So – that was it, really. I figured if you’d left me on your own, maybe you’d come back on your own too. And I
waited and hoped. But then more time passed and I just didn’t know anymore and I started to think that maybe you were dead. That maybe whoever had beaten you up had found you somehow anyway… finished off the job.”

  She flinched. “And you just – gave up?”

  “I thought about asking King for help,” Mac said slowly. “But I never did.”

  “How come?”

  “Honestly? I was afraid of what he’d find.” Mac looked away. “I was afraid that he’d tell me you were dead – but I was more afraid that he’d tell me that you were healthy and happy and that you’d just left me because I wasn’t… good enough. Or that you’d never really loved me.”

  “Shane,” she said. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Oh, yeah. I know.” He gave her his cocky grin. “And you also loved me madly, right?”

  “I did. I do.”

  “I love you, Mirrie.” He took her face in his hands, held her eyes as he spoke. “I love you so damn much and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you with me.”

  She grinned right on back at him. “Oh, yeah. I know.”

  Mac laughed, wrapped her in his arms again. “So you got the piercings and the tattoo and dyed your hair and dove in to a tub of makeup to change your appearance – I get all of that. But do you like it?”

  “You know what? I really do.”

  “And it helps you fit in at the café, huh?”

  “Oh, for sure. You’ve seen Spider and you saw our clientele. I mean, yeah, we get some people from the offices around the area, but mostly we get students and creative types. Writers on their laptops and artists. They have a certain look, lots of them, and Spider hires staff with the same look.”

  “I noticed.”

  “So at first, Spider helped me change my appearance to look like the rest of the staff he hired and then… well. Then I liked it. It was sort of like playing dress-up, you know? Trying on a whole new personality and style and going after a whole new life and identity. And I found that, actually, I like the tattooed, tough ‘don’t-fuck-with-me’ chick look, even if I do miss my long blonde hair sometimes.”

  “It suits you. This look.”