by Lori Ryan
He turned, a question in his eyes, but she just wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down close, close enough that when she stood on her tiptoes she could reach his mouth. She let her fingers thread through his hair as she brushed her lips against his, and heard him drop the picnic basket next to them.
He let out a fierce groan as she deepened the kiss, but he didn’t kiss her back. Please, please don’t reject me. She knew she couldn’t handle his rejection now. She didn’t care if it was a pity screw or just friends with benefits, or whatever. But, she knew she wanted to be closer to him—to escape. To feel something else right now. To feel him. His hands on her. His mouth on her. Him inside her.
Gabe broke away and looked at her, heat and desire smoldering in his eyes, but she also saw confusion, conflict. “Are you sure, Pru? You don’t have to do this for me. I don’t need this from you. Not now.”
“But I do,” she said. “I need this from you.”
She had only just gotten the words out of her mouth before he pulled her against him, assaulting her mouth with his as if he’d been waiting, tethered—dying to be released. As though she’d just cut the last rope that bound him.
He seemed to control everything about their kiss, lifting her off the ground and walking through the house as his mouth traveled down her neck and across her shoulders. PJ’s body was on fire as his mouth explored her, and she no longer had a thought or a care in her head. She had only this. This moment. This feeling. This escape.
This incredible, desperate escape.
Gabe nudged his bedroom door open and brought her to the bed. He lowered her down, his own body following to press her into the bed with his weight. The feel of him on top of her was everything in that moment—and she reveled in it. In her heart she knew she couldn’t hang on to this beyond today, or maybe tomorrow. Even as he kissed her passionately, she knew that when it was time to go back to her real life, she’d need to let him go. But, she wanted this. She wanted today and tomorrow. Consequences be damned.
Gabe pulled back from her and trailed his hands down her sides, letting his fingers graze the side of her breasts, then along her rib cage, down her hips. The fire that burned through her settled tight and achy between her legs, and she wanted him to slow down and speed up all at once.
“God, you feel incredible, Pru.” His voice was ragged with need and PJ pressed her hips up toward him, wanting him to touch more. She wanted him to take off the scraps of fabric he called a bikini and put his hands and mouth on her there.
Then she heard a faraway voice calling to her and felt someone shaking her arm.
Leave me alone. As soon as she thought the words, she wondered why on earth someone would be in the bedroom with her and Gabe. But, the words came again. “Pru...? Wake up, Pru.”
PJ opened her eyes. Gabe was shaking her awake on the boat. She looked into his dark brown eyes and had a quick flash of panic, as she wondered if she’d been moaning and writhing in her sleep, just as she’d moaned and writhed in her dream. She felt a flush creep up her cheeks, but he didn’t bat an eye. Just smiled at her.
“We’re back at the dock, Pru. You fell asleep, so I figured we should head in so you can rest in your bed where you’ll be more comfortable. Then, maybe we can throw a hat and sunglasses on you and head out for dinner somewhere in town.” He spoke easily, so she figured maybe she’d kept the content of her dreams under wraps as she slept.
“Sounds good,” she said, sitting up and slipping her flip flops back on her feet. She tried to push the image of Gabe, above her in his bed, out of her mind. She couldn’t even look him in the eye as they stood and he helped her climb from the boat. The way he took her hand in his was too close to the way her dream began. PJ pulled her hand from his as soon as her feet hit the dock. She kept her head down as they walked up to the house and then took his suggestion to go to her room to nap.
Just as she was about to get up and take a shower, her phone rang. PJ picked it up and felt her stomach clench at the sight of the blocked caller message on her screen. She closed her eyes as she answered, though she didn’t really know what she hoped to accomplish by doing that.
“Hello?” she said cautiously.
“You little tramp. Who the hell do you think you are? Is this a publicity stunt, PJ? Your career was drying up so you thought you’d go for sympathy?” She knew the voice. It was the same cold, angry tone Jimmy Mondo had used on her years before when he’d told her to abort their baby. To take care of the mess she’d made, as he’d put it.
PJ disconnected the call, and with shaky hands, turned off her phone. She couldn't keep it off long. Not if there was a chance the guy with her journal would text with his demands. His last texts implied there was something she could do to redeem herself in his eyes or some amount of money she could pay to keep her secret.
Hopefully, Jimmy would quickly get over his need to scream at her, and she could turn her phone back on to wait for the demands from her blackmailer.
She rolled over on her side and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging herself tightly. She wanted, more than anything, to tell someone what was going on, but who could she tell? Her parents had dealt with too much already. She had told her aunt and uncle, but they needed to help Matthew through this, not worry about her. And, she didn’t begrudge them that. She wanted their focus to be on Matthew.
Could she tell Gabe? She thought about it, but she’d hate to see the disappointment, the judgment she was sure would show in his face when she told him. She just couldn’t take censure like that right now. Especially from him. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to forget that she’d stupidly written everything down and by doing so, had opened herself up to this kind of attack.
Chapter Nine
Gabe stepped out of the shower two hours later. An hour and a half run on the beach and a half hour under the cold spray of the shower had done nothing to relieve his rock-hard erection. An erection he'd had since watching PJ moan and gasp in her sleep on the boat that morning. He’d never seen a sexier sight in his life. In fact, he’d thought for a minute he could stand there watching her forever, but then he’d realized if he had to watch one more minute, listen to one more of those tiny whimpers coming from her kissable little mouth, he would have stripped her out of that bikini in a heartbeat.
He’d spent half his run trying to forget those sounds, and the other half trying to figure out who she might have been dreaming of. Jimmy Mondo? That made sense. She’d been reminded of her history with Jimmy just that morning. Maybe all this had triggered sensuous memories.
But no, that didn’t make sense. The look on her face when she’d talked about Jimmy had been one of revulsion, not attraction. Gabe grimaced as he toweled off and drew his jeans up over his hips. Though he looked forward to more time with her, he was in for one hell of an uncomfortable night out with PJ. Every minute with her was torture. He probably shouldn’t have invited her along for this trip.
Because you care about her, asshole, and she was hurting. It was as simple as that. What it really came down to was that he cared about her. Gabe grabbed his phone and pulled up the software Chad had installed. What the hell?
Dozens of texts going to PJ’s number.
You fucking whore, you can’t do this to me.
I’ll destroy you.
Gabe saw red as he continued to read.
You think you can get away with this? We had an agreement, bitch.
The texts went on and on, threatening PJ and using some language even Gabe wasn’t comfortable with—and that said a lot.
He threw open the door to his room and crossed to PJ’s door before he realized what he was doing. If he went in there and demanded answers the way he wanted to, he’d have to explain how he knew she was getting those texts. Gabe fisted his hands in his hair and whirled away from her door.
His office. Chad. He needed to get Chad on this.
When he’d closed the door, he dialed Chad’s number.
“’Lo?”
came Chad’s voice.
“She’s getting some insanely threatening texts, Chad. Any chance you can trace them?”
“Well, hello to you too, Gabe,” Chad said cheerfully, but Gabe could hear Chad’s fingers on the keyboard and knew Chad wasn’t taking this lightly.
Gabe waited until Chad spoke again.
“Is the number blocked or can you see it?”
Gabe pulled his phone away from his ear and pulled up the texts that had gone to PJ’s phone. He jotted down the number and put the phone back to his ear before rattling the numbers off to Chad.
“Huh. This guy must not be worried about being traced,” Chad said.
“That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense if it’s the guy who has her journal,” Gabe said.
He heard the sound of more typing and then a grunt from Chad. “That’s because it’s Jimmy Mondo.”
“Mondo can’t be the person who leaked those parts of her journal, so that must mean she’s got two big problems to deal with here,” Gabe said, not liking the fact that PJ was keeping all of this so quiet. Sure, it’s not like he was her best friend, but damn, he thought she knew she could come to him for help.
“Have any other texts come through?” Chad asked.
“Not since you installed the software. If the guy who’s got the journal has contacted her, it hasn’t been since last night.”
“Call when you get something and I’ll see if I can trace it. If they block the number, there’s a possibility I can still get an ID. It all depends on the carrier they use. But, let me know and I’ll try,” Chad said.
“Thanks, Chad. I owe you,” Gabe said. Chad just laughed and hung up the phone.
When Gabe came out of the office, PJ stood at the kitchen island filling a kettle, then placing it on the stove to heat.
“Sorry. I hope you don’t mind,” she said gesturing to the mug and teapot by the stove.
“Not at all,” Gabe said. “Help yourself to anything while you’re here. I have the caretakers keep the place pretty heavily stocked.” He slid onto a stool across from her and looked at her. Her eyes still looked tired even though her hair was mussed from bed. She looked like she might have taken a short nap, but didn’t get the sleep she needed. Chances were, she wasn’t sleeping very well.
“Have you heard from Jimmy Mondo about all this?” he asked, and she damn near jumped out of her skin.
“Um,” she started, fidgeting with the handle of her mug.
“If you lie to me, I can’t help you,” Gabe said quietly. Her round eyes found his and she flushed.
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me,” she whispered, and he wondered why she took on all this by herself.
“What if all I want to do is listen?” he asked though he wanted to tear the guy to pieces. He also wanted to know what had her so scared. And what had Jimmy Mondo so angry? Could there be more?
What could be in the journal that hadn’t already been leaked?
PJ’s eyes seemed locked to his as if she couldn’t pull herself away, and he hoped she’d see that all he wanted to do was help. If she’d just open up to him....
The sound of her phone chiming broke the moment and PJ froze, eyeing her phone on the counter as if it were a snake. Gabe’s fingers itched to pull out his phone to read the text, but that obviously wasn’t an option.
He waited as PJ slowly reached out and read the text, then raised her eyes to his.
“Care to share, Pru?” he asked, and was a bit surprised when she slid the phone across the granite counter to him, her hand shaking the slightest bit. He kept his eyes on hers for just a minute before lifting the phone.
Jimmy doesn’t seem at all repentant. How about you, Pretty Pru? Are you ready to repent for your sins?
Ice cold hit Gabe’s veins followed by the heat of anger. Burning hot rage because someone was holding something over PJ. And, dammit, she’d been hiding this threat from him the entire time. That needed to change. Now.
Gabe stood, took her hand and pulled PJ over to the living room and settled them onto the couch. Then he faced her. She looked about ready to cry, but he also saw that look of determination beneath the tears that welled in her eyes – like she was gearing up her defenses. He pushed one of her russet curls behind her ear.
“Please, Pru. Let me help. Even if it’s just to listen,” he said and rubbed a thumb over her cheek where a tear had fallen. “I know you don’t want to go to your parents, but you have to have someone on your side through this.”
She shook her head. “If I tell you, it will change the way you look at me, how you think about me,” she whispered, and he watched as she struggled to control the shaking of her chin, to keep the tears from falling.
“Oh, Pru,” he leaned his forehead against hers and threaded his fingers through her hair. “Nothing you tell me will ever change the way I see you, or how much I care about you. I promise.”
She curled in toward him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close until she almost sat in his lap. It took a long time, but when she began to talk, the words tumbled out of her as if she’d waited years to tell someone her story.
“I didn’t spend eight months in rehab,” she said against his chest, and Gabe had to make a conscious effort not to stiffen. “I spent two months in rehab. When I checked in, I was two months pregnant.”
Well, hell. It was a lot harder not to stiffen for that one, but he steadied his breathing and kept holding her, all the while planning Jimmy Mondo’s death in gruesome and excruciating detail in his head. He’d need to talk to Chad about how to hide a body—he was pretty sure Chad knew that sort of thing.
“Where were you the rest of the time?” he asked. It was widely believed PJ had spent eight months in rehab back when she was fifteen.
“I stayed with my aunt and uncle and my parents. The only time I ever left the house was to go to the doctor.”
“And, the baby?” he asked, having a feeling he knew the answer already.
“My cousin, Matthew––” she started, and Gabe finished for her.
“Isn’t your cousin.”
“No,” she said, still not looking up at him.
Gabe tilted her chin to him, bringing her eyes up so he could see them, then dried her tears. He leaned in slowly and kissed her gently on the lips. Such a small kiss, but it seared right through him, just as any contact with her did.
He kissed the tip of her nose, her eyelids and then her lips again before pulling her back down into his arms. She laid her head on his chest and he held her.
“Do you believe you did the right thing? For him? For you?” he asked her.
She pulled back and looked at him. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you regret the decision?” he asked.
“Not one bit,” she said. “He’s loved, truly loved by my Aunt Susie and Uncle Brian. And he has a good life. Just look at the life Jill and Andrew will give those twins. Those babies will be cherished and loved every minute of their lives. I knew my baby would have that when I decided I wasn’t the one who should raise him.”
“Then, you did the right thing, Pru. And nobody has the right to tell you otherwise.”
“Do you really think I did the right thing? I mean, not because I think it’s right. I mean, do you think it was right?” she asked.
“Yes, I really do.”
She lay in his arms, no longer crying, and he held her, feeling her chest rise and fall with each breath until he felt her breaths even out. She fell asleep there, and he held her for a long time, knowing she needed to sleep. She needed to recharge if they were going to deal with this.
Gabe thought about the times he’d seen pictures of her with her cousin, Matthew. She was close to him. That much was clear. He wondered if the boy knew. Maybe he didn’t even know he was adopted. If he did, had he ever suspected PJ was his birth mother?
Gabe would call Chad as soon as she woke up and get him started trying to track down whoever had her journal, and held this twisted
grudge against Pru for her decision to put the baby up for adoption. Because lying here with her in his arms, Gabe realized, he was through trying to resist PJ, through trying to convince himself this wasn’t the right time for whatever was happening between them.
Yes. It might be the very worst possible time for her to start a relationship, but he didn’t care. She’d been alone long enough. And, he had a feeling she’d punished herself long enough for the decisions she’d made as a fifteen-year-old. It was time PJ allowed herself to be happy. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be a part of that.
Chapter Ten
It took Gabe a while to convince PJ that getting Chad involved in the search for the person who had her journal was a safe move. She wouldn’t talk to the police, and he didn’t blame her. If they went to the police, someone, somewhere along the way would leak the story to the press. If they got the police involved, too many people along the chain of command could slip up, and the information could find its way to the wrong set of ears. Officers working the case might have every intention of maintaining her privacy…. But that wouldn’t stop the guy who delivers the mail, or someone else, from overhearing details of the case and calling his girlfriend to tell her he’d seen PJ Cantrell at the police station—and so on and so on. That wasn’t the way to go.
Besides, Chad didn’t need to follow any procedures or obtain any warrants, so he’d have more freedom to go after this guy.
Of course, he hadn’t told PJ he’d already involved Chad. And, he didn’t plan to. He’d just delete the software from his phone, and not let on that he knew about the texts before she showed him any of them.
