Falling Under

by Lauren Dane

  “I’m so sorry, gorgeous.” He pulled her hat off and kissed her. “My only defense is that I’m not used to walking hand in hand with anyone.”

  Charmed, she rolled her eyes. “And the women you were with before me were all tall so they could keep up.”

  “No call to say such a thing, now, is there?”

  “Bring yourself down here, Duke.” Carmella tried to look stern but ended up laughing before she could grab his beard.

  So she settled for another kiss and ran her fingers through his hair. Which was actually not anything close to settling.

  “The truth of the matter is,” he said against her lips, “nothing I’ve done before was like you and me.”

  He was so good at being affectionate. It was easy for him to be open with her. She owed it to him to return that, but it wasn’t easy for her. And while it was nice that he felt this way and said these things, really nice actually, it still made her feel inadequate in some sense because it also terrified her.

  “Come on then. Let’s eat. I’ll pay more attention.” He gave her forehead a last kiss and plopped the hat back into place. She most likely had the worst case of hat hair ever and it didn’t even matter.

  After a really big dinner, they headed back to catch a show. Waxahatchee was one of her recent discoveries, and Carmella loved that straightforward rock and roll fronted by a woman.

  Duke was right behind her, the heat of him at her back. He kept people away from her, which was nice and also meant he was getting used to running interference for her.

  One of his hands rested on her shoulder. It was possessive, definitely. And at first it had made her wary. But if she was being totally honest, by that point in their relationship, she really liked it. Especially because people got the message that he wasn’t available.

  Honestly, the thing about that day that hadn’t been fun was the stunning number of times a beautiful woman saw Duke, her face lit up, and she had to hug him. Had. To.

  It made Carmella grumpy. She hated jealousy. It was useless. But it didn’t matter because she felt it anyway. It made her self-conscious too.

  It wasn’t as if he did anything to invite it. Or that anyone had been overly friendly and insulting to her. He always introduced her right away. Said she was his girlfriend to everyone.

  It filled her with pride. Like, Oh yes, look at him. He’s mine.

  Which was dumb. She knew it. But she couldn’t stop that smug little warm spot inside when people looked at him.

  It was late by the time the show ended, but naturally Mick was ready for more.

  “Let’s go play some pool,” Mick said. “First round’s on me.”

  PJ stood next to Carmella as they watched Asa, Duke, and Mick plan the rest of the evening.

  “They make me feel really old and I’m the youngest of everyone,” PJ said.

  “Where does all their energy come from?” Carmella asked. She knew when they got back home, Duke would want to fuck. Not that she’d argue. She wanted to fuck right then.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. I have no idea.” PJ linked her arm with Carmella’s as Mick tossed a coin to choose between this or that bar. “Looks like we’re going to play some pool.”

  Duke turned to her with a grin. “Are you up for some pool or do you want to go home?”

  At least he’d asked. A lot of people would have assumed. Though she wondered if he was sick of her yet. They worked together, and now that they were dating, they saw each other pretty much every night and weekend too.

  She wasn’t sick of him by any stretch.

  “Sure. I haven’t played since high school, but I’m happy to watch you bend over things.”

  “What a coincidence. I like to watch you bend over things too,” he said quietly into her ear.

  You could be seeing it if we went home right now.

  Instead, they all headed out to a bar that rode the real dive line, but was still barely on the not quite line. In cases like these, being with men the size of the ones she was worked out pretty well.

  She and PJ stood across the room at the jukebox as the guys grabbed a pool table and some beer.

  “How is it they can drink all that beer and eat all that food and they’re still so freaking gorgeous? Like, Duke has no fat on him. How is that? If I ate and drink the way they did, I’d never want to stop napping.” Carmella flipped through the music selection.

  “Right? And they do all the things you’re not supposed to! Truth be told, fat wouldn’t dare live on Asa’s body.”

  Carmella laughed. “Is fat scared of him too?”

  “Probably.” The two women laughed. PJ slung an arm around Carmella’s shoulders. “God, I’m so glad you’re around.”

  Carmella felt much the same way. She wasn’t sure what she’d have done without PJ’s advice. She had no idea how to manage this relationship thing. Her marriage most definitely counted as a don’t. But some dos were nice too and PJ was so open and helpful.

  Carmella tried to steer them around a knot of men who were three drinks past acceptably drunk and nearing belligerent. She knew all she had to do was call out and no one would fuck with them because the three men they came in with were big enough to scare anyone. But the men made her nervous.

  “Carmella? I thought that was you.”

  Carmella recognized his voice and she spun on her heel, finger already pointed. “You! You broke into my house.”

  “Oh shit,” PJ whispered.

  Clifton—of course he’d been standing with those losers—came out of the shadows with some kind of easygoing smile but it was fake as hell.

  “I didn’t. I just borrowed.”

  “Borrowed?” She looked around at the beers on the table he was standing at. “You stole my shit so you could buy beer? Fuck you, Clifton.”

  “Wow,” PJ said in an undertone. “Go, Carm.”

  “What? You want me to pay you back now? All you had to do was ask. But you called the cops on me like a snitch.”

  Carmella was tipsy, but really mad. To see him there with several hundred dollars’ worth of booze on that table and he stole fifty-six dollars from her?

  Suddenly she wanted to pop him one right in the nose. But since he was bigger and surrounded by greasy-looking guys who looked like they all drove windowless white vans, she figured her best bet was to call the cops instead.

  “Come on,” she said to PJ and they started to walk away.

  “I said I just borrowed it.” Clifton moved to grab her arm to stop her, and from the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of blue, which was PJ being picked up and moved behind Asa, who stood next to Duke, who put himself in front of Carmella. Mick kept an eye on the other guys.

  Duke moved lighting quick and suddenly Clifton was on the ground, his wrist bent back. He looked over his shoulder to Carmella. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

  Carmella shook her head. “He barely touched my arm.”

  “Do you know this piece of shit?”

  “That’s my ex-wife the cop caller!” Clifton screeched from his place on the floor.

  “This is Clifton?” Duke asked. He must have bent Clifton’s wrist back even harder because the whimpering cut off with a gasp.

  Carmella nodded. “I was young!”

  Duke grinned at her a moment and then got serious again.

  “Tell him to let me go. You guys, get him off me,” Clifton whined to his buddies, a few of whom seemed to take this request under advisement.

  “Take it outside!” the bartender yelled out.

  “Got it.” Duke let Clifton’s wrist go and then yanked him to his feet. “There’s a parking lot half a block up. Plenty of room for us to have a go.”

  Asa tipped his chin at one of the guys Clifton was with.

  “We could just call the police. They’d come get him.” It wasn’t that Carmella cared if Clifton got punched in the face. In fact, it might be cathartic to see. But she didn’t want Duke in trouble. Or Mick or Asa, who weren’t even involved real
ly.

  “He won’t even spend the night in jail unless he’s got warrants. Which he might.” Duke looked Clifton over.

  “You gonna cry to the police or are you going to let me kick your ass?” Clifton taunted.

  Two of the four guys ran through the side door and away and Carmella looked over to PJ, who rolled her eyes.

  “You think that’ll manipulate me, little man?” Duke asked.

  “Out!” the bartender repeated.

  PJ took Carmella’s arm and they backed up. Mick held an elbow out for each one of them. “Ladies, shall we get some fresh air away from the fray?”

  “I didn’t want to make a scene in there, but shouldn’t we be telling Duke this isn’t worth it? If the cops are called and he’s brawling, won’t he get busted too?” Carmella asked quietly.

  Mick just kissed her cheek. “Telling Bradshaw not to throw a punch when he’s got that look on his face? Good luck with that, red.”

  Duke and Asa came out next, followed by Clifton, one of his dumbass friends, and the bartender, who called out, “See you later, Asa. You guys have five before I call the cops,” as he went back into the bar.

  Clifton’s friend was talking to him, egging him on, and Asa rolled his head on his neck. PJ sighed and murmured, “So hot.”

  Once they were on the sidewalk near the action but out of direct harm, Mick spoke again. “Look, darlin’, eighty percent of the time Duke is the most chill motherfucker who walks this earth. But you put him in or on a machine? Put him in a ring or a fight? Well, he lives hard and full-out in that next fifteen percent.”

  “And that last five percent?” Carmella asked him.

  “When you push him too far. When you threaten something or someone he is bound to protect? He is a motherfucker you don’t want coming at you. Because all that mellow surfer right on stuff is gone.”

  Shouldn’t she be outraged he was going to fistfight her ex? Who, granted, said and did some stupid shit, but he wasn’t worth Duke getting arrested over.

  “She didn’t even have anything worth stealing! Not even her crazy mom’s pills I could sell.” Clifton took a wad of money from his pocket and threw it.

  It hit Duke in the face.

  Everything went very quiet until Mick spoke. “Well. Now this is going to happen for real. You two stay back here. I’m going to make sure everything goes by the rules.”

  Duke could have made a witty retort.

  But for long moments he said and did nothing. Carmella moved farther up the sidewalk to the edge of the lot so she could see Duke’s face. PJ joined her and they linked arms and watched like weirdo perverts.

  Duke had been across the bar, unable not to watch as Carmella and PJ swayed over to the jukebox. Even as they’d ordered pitchers and gotten the balls at a free table racked up, he’d watched her.

  The dudes in the far corner had his attention when they’d first arrived, but he didn’t figure any of them for a threat they couldn’t handle.

  But when Carmella had been walking near them, he’d definitely been paying attention, and by the time she spun on the guy, he was making his way over.

  And then the fucker had actually touched Carmella. And then he’d used that taunt about her mother and was so nonchalant about the way he’d violated her home and stolen from her.

  Truly this man needed a fist in his face in the worst way.

  Mick watched their backs as he and Asa faced Clifton and his no forehead–looking ape of a friend.

  Duke simply took the ratfaced goatfucker, as Carmella so poetically called him, in. Tallied up his strengths and weaknesses, and once he was sure he could hold off dropping the dude until he’d gotten to punch him three times, he began to move.

  “I get it. She is really good in the sack,” Clifton taunted.

  Before he could even fully accomplish his sneer, Duke had given over to that feral part of him, that part who would protect what was his, what was fragile and special, and landed a kidney punch on each side and then a jab, quick and hard, to the nose.

  A snap, a howl, and Clifton dropped like the sack of shit he was.

  His friend grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged a half-walking ratface away.

  “I catch you anywhere near Carmella, you utter her name, use, or abuse her in any way, and I will break your nose again. And your arms too. You get me?” Duke asked their retreating forms.

  Any defiance either man had shown was gone by that point as they shouted their agreement and kept retreating.

  He looked at Asa, who looked his fists over. “Thanks.”

  “You do always know how to have a good time.” Asa tipped his chin at Mick, who laughed at both of them as he headed over.

  “I think maybe we can call it a night. Take your women home and let them kiss your bruised fists,” Mick said.

  Carmella and PJ approached. Now that the rage had settled back, he worried how she felt watching him that way.

  But her eyes held that light it had the night at the gym when he’d been boxing. It really did work out when a man’s kinks lined up so well with his partner.

  “You’re going to want to ice these.” Carmella took his hands gently in hers.

  “Yeah. Come on. I’ll let you drive me home.”

  She paused. “Should we take you to the emergency room?”

  “He didn’t even land a single punch. His face made my fists sore, though.”

  Her eyes widened. “Will this affect your work?”

  He slung an arm around her, pulling her close as they headed back to where they’d parked the cars earlier that day.

  “Sometimes when I fight, it might mess me up the next day or two. But I don’t work until Tuesday so I’ll be fine.”

  “So why are you letting me drive your car?”

  He was a little protective of his machines, that was true. It amused him that she was so easygoing about it.

  “Because I’m drunk on adrenaline, which will crash in a bit. And I’ve been drinking and you haven’t in a few hours.”

  “Can I do doughnuts in it at the high school parking lot?”

  He snorted. “I take it you’re not upset over the fight?”

  “Well, it’s pretty embarrassing to have your ex-husband be such a douchenozzle in front of your friends. And the crack about my mom and her pills wasn’t my favorite.” Carmella’s voice didn’t waver. That was good. “But it was really fucking hot when you punched him out.”

  He’d had a rock-hard dick ever since she took his hands after the fight so her words just then made him groan.

  They said their good-byes at the cars, with everyone agreeing to meet up for breakfast before starting day two.

  She had to pull his seat up pretty close, but he wisely held his tongue.

  “Stop staring at me. I’m not going to wreck your car. I’m a good driver.”

  “Everyone thinks they’re a good driver. It’s stunning how many people do. You are, though, so get that frown off your face. Such a stubborn frown. Makes me want to kiss it away.”

  “Mellow Duke is back, I see.”

  “Mellow Duke?”

  “The guy who lopes along with a sexy grin. The guy who makes everyone smile.”

  “You said I was sexy.”

  “And drunk.” She laughed.

  She really was a good driver, Duke decided.

  “Not entirely sober, but I do know what I’m hearing.”

  “You’re totally sexy. And when you’re all grrr, arrrrr, punchy punchy, grrr, it’s also sexy. Though I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be uncomfortable with that or not,” Carmella said.

  “I get hard when you wipe a counter down. Who am I to judge what gets you hot? As long as it’s me, I have no beef.” He gave over to laughter at her.

  The rest of the drive was pretty quick, which was good because he wanted to fuck her. Wanted to strip her down and remind himself she was fine and his.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-two

  Thanks for defending my honor tonight
.” She pulled up in his driveway and keyed the car off.

  “It made my year that I got to finally punch that guy out. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, though. Now that I know what he looks like, I can watch out for him better. The bartender is a friend of Asa’s. He might know something.”

  Duke got out and joined her on the driver’s side. “Should we go get Ginger and bring her to my house for the night?”

  “Craig texted me earlier to ask if he could keep her until tomorrow. He can’t have a dog right now. He’s too busy usually. But he loves animals so he sometimes steals my dog to get a canine fix. Plus, he takes her to the dog park—so he can meet women—but Ginger loves it at his house. I’ll swing by his place tomorrow on the way home and grab her.”

  He dug that little dog and couldn’t deny a twinge of jealousy that Craig had her right then.

  “I miss her too,” Carmella said quietly.

  What Duke liked most was that she didn’t joke about it. She was serious and it was cool that he was too.

  “Right now, though, you’re sweaty and roughed up and unbelievably hot. I’d like to utilize this as it’s all my favorite.”

  He bent and picked her up. “I vow that we’ll make it to my bed this time.”

  “If you say so.” She kissed his neck as he got his door unlocked and them both inside. He kicked it shut, locked it, and headed straight to his bed, where he tossed her, pulling his clothes off as she did the same.

  “I’m going to wash my hands as they’re covered in ratfaced goatfucker sweat and blood. Don’t go anywhere.”

  He came back out with wet hair. “I dunked my head under. I hope I didn’t spoil that tousled sexy thing you liked so much.”

  “Get down here and let me show you just how much you didn’t spoil it.”

  She pushed him to his back and kissed him. Slowly at first. And fell under, her mouth on his.

  Carmella kissed across his face, over his nose, digging her fingers into his hair as she moved down his neck and collarbone. She licked over his ink, tasting the salt of his skin. Loving the way he shivered and arched into her kisses.

  She drew the tip of her tongue around his right nipple until it beaded and he made a ragged sound.