Dirty Little Secrets: Romantic Suspense Series (Dirty Deeds Book 2)

by AJ Nuest

  “Hell, Chuck, I think you might just have yourself a deal.” Easing back from their hug, he lifted her chin on his bent index finger, leaned down and dotted her lips over and over with warm, soft kisses. “I’ve been waiting a very long time to get you locked behind closed doors.”

  So not a problem. A smile teased her lips as he bumped the tip of his nose against hers. And for however long he wanted her there, that’s exactly where she would stay.

  “Looks like might we have a little cleanup to handle first.” He nodded down the hall and she glanced over her shoulder at the three suited Feds standing over Loretta’s body, the tall, dark-haired one speaking into his cell and the other two taking turns shaking hands with Eden, Kelly, and everyone else who’d come to see her safely back to Xander’s arms.

  Damn, Tanner, Detective Archer…heck, even Mocha had shown up.

  Wow. Talk about loyalty. Charlie’s vision blurred as love mixed with a hefty dose of appreciation. Her chin trembled over how each and every one of them had put their lives on hold for her.

  Their efforts had given her a second chance. With the man of her dreams. No matter how long or hard she tried, she’d never be able to repay them for everything they’d done.

  Tanner sneered at Detective Archer, and a quiet chuckle parted Charlie’s lips as she spun away from him and stormed down the hall. Or maybe there was a little something she could do, after all.

  “Loretta was right, you know.” Xander’s breath brushed her ear, and Charlie leaned back, meeting the beautiful sea in his eyes with a slight frown. “You are the key, Charlie.” He held her cheek, thumb sweeping the tender skin under her lashes. “My key. To unlocking everything. Since the first day we met and you stole my heart.”

  Geez, as if her knees weren’t already shaky enough. A bloated tear spilled, and she covered his hand with hers, loving him so much, she went up on her toes to meet his kiss and she didn’t give two craps who was watching.

  “Lucky for me, I guess,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s a good thing I’m such a talented thief.”

  Chapter 19

  Charlie murmured beside him, and Xander lowered the screen on his laptop and gently eased the device beside the vase of red roses he’d centered on the nightstand.

  Good. With him just fresh out of the shower, she couldn’t have picked a better time.

  Other than the long, hot bubble bath he’d helped her take when they first got home, an abridged house call from Eden’s MD to make sure Charlie’s jaw hadn’t been fractured or pneumonia hadn’t settled into her lungs, the woman had spent the last two days nestled under a pile of thick blankets, lost to the world in a sound sleep.

  Not that he cared she’d been down for the count the past forty-eight hours. After everything she’d been through, she deserved to log out of reality for a while. As long as he used this opportunity to get some solid food into her, he didn’t give a rat’s ass if they spent the next three weeks in bed.

  He reached for his cell, tapped a quick text to Eden in the kitchen and hit send. Some thick hot soup would do Charlie a world of good, and then it was right back to sleep, if she needed it.

  A hint of her apple-infused skin scented the air as she stretched her arms over her head, her sweet ass bumping his thigh as she arched her spine like a cat. Or he’d always be happy to tug open that fluffy white robe and satisfy any other cravings she might have in mind.

  Bouncing around under the covers, she smiled and twined her leg through his, one of her arms draped across his waist and her cheek resting on his stomach like a pillow. “Best sleep I’ve had in a week.”

  “Good morning, beautiful.” Setting his phone on his laptop, he plucked one of the roses from the vase and brushed the petals down her cheek.

  Though the bruises had started to fade from a reddish-purple to more of a green-tinged maroon, her skin was still pale, and he didn’t like the thought all the missed meals had made her weak or drop a bunch of weight.

  Her curves were already perfect, and by his count, the last time she’d eaten anything of caloric value was Monday night following Malcolm’s wake.

  “Oh, how pretty.” She reached for the rose and brought it to her nose, and for the first time in his life, he grew jealous of a flower as she brushed the edge of one curled petal across her lips. “Who’s that from?”

  “The roses are from me.” He slanted his head toward the nightstand and her brows lifted as she eyed the overflowing vase.

  But it had seemed only right he do something to brighten the room while she slept. Leave a small sign to let her know he was close in case she woke up during the numerous trips he’d been forced to take downstairs and handle the million and one things begging for his attention.

  Like implementing a full upgrade to the security system, for example. That task had topped the list. Along with several other surprises he hoped to spring on his beautiful blond bombshell now that she was awake. “The rest are from…hell, pick someone.”

  In many ways, it had warmed his heart the way everyone wanted to make sure Charlie knew she was in their thoughts. Starting yesterday morning when Eden had knocked on his bedroom door, only to enter carrying a bouquet of some or another poufy pink flowers, placing them on the dresser with a hushed whisper they were from her and Kelly. Not two hours later, Archer had shown up on the doorstep to Smith Manor, a gigantic stuffed bear in a chokehold under his arm.

  Mocha, Tanner, DeFranco—they’d each brought enough pre-made meals and chocolate into the house to feed an army. And even Byrne had stepped up and ordered over two dozen Get Well Mylar balloons, compliments of the FBI.

  Charlie pushed to her knees, head on a swivel as she took in the gifts scattered throughout the room, left then right until her gaze finally revolved all the way back to him.

  “No way.” She slumped, the slight panic on her face making him roll his lips to suppress a chuckle. “How long have I been out?”

  “Couple days.” He waved his hand over his cell and leaned toward the nightstand to check the time. “It’s almost two o’clock, Friday afternoon.”

  “Holy shit.” Her ass slid off her heels to the mattress. “No wonder I gotta pee so bad.”

  A grunt cinched his stomach as she scrambled off the bed, and he linked his hands behind his head as she disappeared inside the bathroom.

  The toilet flushed, water splashed in the sink and, a second later, she reappeared, swinging the door wide. “I swear, we must have the best friends in the whole world.” A running leap toward the bed, and he smiled as she belly-flopped beside his legs, then crawled up the blankets and snuggled right back where she belonged.

  Against his chest. Bodies touching. The way she fit against him making them one instead of two.

  “I mean it.” She shoved his feet. “Everyone here, all the people we’ve met in Chicago. They’re completely awesome, Xander.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” Not that he’d harbored any doubts after the way everyone had pitched in to get Charlie back, but any reservations he might’ve had disappeared the moment Byrne had told him Ben Archer had been the one responsible for taking Loretta down.

  Coming up on the scene to find Xander and Charlie were being held at gunpoint, Archer hadn’t hesitated to take aim and pull the trigger. And he’d earned a lifetime’s worth of thanks in return.

  Hell, as far as Xander was concerned, whatever he wanted moving forward, Archer only had to say the word.

  It was weird, in a way. Lifting Charlie’s hand from his waist, Xander brought her knuckles to his lips for a kiss. How Archer’s dedication and bravery had been the clinching piece he’d needed to confirm he and Charlie had finally landed in the one place they truly belonged.

  For the first time ever, he may have even gone so far as to state he had family. True friends he held no doubts would always be there for them through thick and thin.

  And speaking of which…

  Anxiety trickled into his stomach as he placed Charlie’s hand on h
is chest and covered it with his own. Everything he’d done the past couple of days had been for her. To show how much he loved her. He didn’t want to negate all that by turning around and suggesting they build a future together on a foundation that could one day easily crumble.

  She deserved better, and it was time he come clean. And if she accepted his gifts as a way of begging for her forgiveness, then so much the better. “So, you never answered my question. You know, from before? About whether or not you think we should keep the house.”

  “Oh.” Her fingers stiffened under his. “Geez, I don’t know. That’s a big decision to spring on a girl when she first wakes up. On the one hand, after everything that’s happened… If I were you, I’m not so sure I’d be able to give it up. But on the other, the upkeep on a place this size has got to be astronomical. Not to mention the insurance.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can you even afford it?”

  Yep. His heart kicked against her palm. There was his common-sense Charlie, and damned if he didn’t love her even more for always keeping his best interests at heart.

  The only thing that didn’t sit right was the way she’d phrased her response. “First of all, the operative word here is we. Can we afford it.” Regardless of the friends they’d made in Chicago, whether they stayed in the house or went back to New York, she was his home. Period. “And secondly, I’m pretty sure the couple hundred million I stashed away for a rainy day will cover it.”

  Tipping her head back, she fluttered her lashes. “Very funny.”

  He waited, keeping their gazes locked, but no amount of unease could’ve stopped the slow curl of his lips as understanding wound to a glaring realization in her gaze.

  Damn, how was it her two-toned irises could always knock him out better than a sucker punch to the gut?

  “You’re serious?” She sat up, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes. “I always assumed you had money. I mean, with your talents, that’s sort of a given. But my God, Xander.” Her fingertips dug into his skin as she leaned in. “You’re filthy, stinkin’ rich.”

  Yep, there she went again. Speaking as if whatever was his wasn’t also automatically hers as well. But they’d already survived enough years staring at the blank slate of emotional bankruptcy. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to go back. “And thanks to the bank roll Malcolm left us, so are you.”

  She hesitated, and then slowly backed off. “Oh, no. No, no, I can’t let you do that.” Wriggling her hand out from under his, she wagged her finger as if scolding a bratty kid. “That money is yours, Dade. Malcolm left it to you and I’m not about to leech off your inheritance.”

  Leech? Yeah, he wasn’t so sure leeching had anything to do with it. “Now, before you get all bent out of shape, you should know that one of the stipulations of Malcolm’s will required each of us to log onto a private database and answer a series of questions to verify we were his intended recipients. Sort of a…proof-of-life thing.”

  And whether or not the old coot had been sending him a message, it didn’t take long for Xander to figure out any proof he’d ever existed landed squarely on Charlie. The same as it always had. “I took some time to see what kinda tricks Malcolm had up his sleeve while you were sleeping and, as it turns out, every single answer related straight back to you. One after the next either had your name, or your favorite color, or your birthday.”

  Sitting up, Xander brought over his laptop and flipped open the screen, logging on to the private account he’d created in her name. “And why, do you suppose, Malcolm did that?” He spun the laptop so it faced her and set the keyboard in her lap. “Because you gave me those things, Chuck. You shared them with me from the very beginning.”

  Before then, he’d never had a birthday. Never celebrated or known the first thing about choosing a color that was his. Survival had been the only thing that mattered. Not friends, or laughter, or even what it was like to touch another person without inflicting pain. “Malcolm knew that. Trust me when I say at least half the money is yours.”

  Her focus danced over the monitor, and his gut seized as that same annoyed, frustrated, half-shell-shocked-pissed expression she’d worn the night he’d kissed her outside the hospital appeared on her face.

  Damage control…damage control…

  Shit, would she notice if he fired off a quick text to Eden?

  She finally lifted her gaze, but from the glittering anger sharpening those hypnotic blue-gold orbs, she was prepping to nail his balls to the bed. “So, I can do whatever I want with it and you won’t try to stop me.”

  Stop her? What was she—? “Why would I stop you?” He trusted her to do the right thing. More than anyone else, if it came down it. Even himself.

  “And if I wanted to, say, take a big chunk and put Tilly in a fancy retirement home that would be okay with you?”

  Dammit. He raked his hand through his hair. But with all the distractions of the past few days, he’d completely spaced telling her the stuff he’d taken care of before they’d landed in Chicago.

  “I already did that. On the plane from New York. But it’s more of a spa than a retirement home.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. She’ll love it.”

  One of Charlie’s brows rose, and his smile slowly faded as she boosted her chin. “And if, for example, I wanted to hire Milo a private nurse, you wouldn’t care?”

  Well, son of a bitch. “Yeah, I did that, too. Sorry I forgot to mention it. Great agency. The nurse came highly recommended.”

  Charlie nodded, her mouth twisted to the side. “And since you’ve already paid for Ellis’s medication, I guess that leaves me nothing else but taking care of your fee.”

  His shoulders dropped a solid inch. Oh, come on. There was no way in hell the woman had just said that to him.

  Tension crawled into his neck. He sized her up out of the corner of his eye.

  Somehow, they’d gotten off track. Like, way, way off track. But lying to her when he swore he’d never do that again? Not a chance. “I never charged my last client, Chuck. And even if I had, we both know if I couldn’t charge you two weeks ago, there’s no way I could take a dime from you now. You need to let that shit go.”

  “Uh-huh.” She glanced around the room—at the walls, the gifts, the floor—everywhere but at him. “So, that it? Or are you about bust out a few more surprises before this day is over?”

  Okay, what just happened? His teeth met with a loud clack. This was not the romantic scene he’d envisioned by a long shot, but the woman consistently made his attempts at sweeping her off her feet look like he’d purposely set out to piss her off.

  Falling onto his elbow, he opened the nightstand drawer and fished around inside for the velvet box. A shove against the mattress, and he tossed it in her direction. “I was hoping you’d wear this. Like, for the next sixty years.”

  She flipped up the lid, peeked at the four-carat emerald-cut diamond tucked inside and snapped the lid closed. “No.” She threw the ring back and it hit his chest before tumbling to the blankets. “No way.”

  Jesus, women were confusing.

  “All right.” Tossing his hands in the air, he cried uncle. “What’s the problem?”

  “What’s the problem?” Charlie pushed toward the end of the bed, her foot tangling in the comforter. She muttered a few choice words and kicked it aside before hopping to the floor. “Boys are stupid, that’s the problem.”

  Wonderful. He sighed and dug his thumb and index finger into his eyes. Most botched proposal in history. “I fail to see how asking you to marry me is stupid.”

  “Xander.” She spun to face him, ticking off each point on her fingers. “You gave me half your money. You took care of my friends. You offer me an engagement ring that belongs on the red carpet and I have a sneaking suspicion you’re about to tell me I own part of this house.”

  And that was a big deal because…? “Eden sold me her share for a dollar. All I had to do was shuffle the paperwork around.” And since he’d apparently hog tied himself to all s
orts of trouble, he may as well come clean about everything else. “You also own the apartment building in New York.” As of a half hour ago, paid in full.

  “Oh, my God.” Tossing her head back, Charlie blew a harsh breath toward the ceiling. “Oh my sweet baby Jesus in the manger.”

  Right, he’d messed up. Broken one of those whacked-out relationship rules he never got until it was too late. The thing he didn’t get was how. “What about this idea. Why don’t you just tell me what I did and I’ll apologize.”

  “Um, how about we start with the truth.” One step toward the bed, and she cocked a hip, propping her hand on her waist. “You’ve been holding out on me, and the fact you think I didn’t pick up on it is just plain dumb.” She pointed at the ground. “I love you, ya big dork. But you can’t ask me to marry you and then buy away whatever’s been eating at you as if it never happened. For God’s sake, how shallow do you think I am?”

  Shit. He dropped his chin to his chest. Goddamn it, she was right.

  Once again, he’d gotten everything backward, made everything worse. Not that he was surprised. Or she should be either, considering the source.

  This was him, after all.

  Lifting his hand, he curled his finger, motioning her back to the bed. “Come here.”

  She hesitated, then rolled her eyes and perched on the edge of the mattress.

  On the defense. Ready to flee. The perfect example of his worst fears come to life.

  No.

  Scooting down the bed, he swung his legs around her hips, wrapped her in his arms and prayed to God or whatever deity was looking down on them his next words wouldn’t have her jumping the next plane back to New York.

  Pulling a deep breath, he closed his eyes. “I cheated.”

  She went rigid in his arms and he mentally kicked his own ass for slapping down two words she could’ve so easily misinterpreted. “No, not like that. Never like that. I cheated in Malcolm’s competition. Ten years ago, I broke into his computer and changed the stats to make sure I was one of the three who got chosen.”