Identity Crisis

by Rochelle Paige

  The ringing of my cell phone startled me. I grabbed it quickly to accept the call so Blaine didn’t hear it. Crap! My parents must have made it back into port early. There went my plan to call them before they had a chance to listen to any of their messages.

  “I’m okay,” I answered.

  “Oh, thank God,” my mom cried. “We had a message waiting for us from an Atlanta police officer. Of course, I assumed the worst and thought something must be wrong with you. Your dad tried to calm me down. When it didn’t work, he dialed your number and handed me the phone.”

  “Can you put me on speakerphone? I have a lot to tell you both.” When I heard my dad’s voice, I started to tell them about everything that had happened since I got home from the cabin. It took forever, which wasn’t a surprise since there was a lot to discuss. Plus, my mom kept interrupting me with questions. My dad remained strangely silent until the end, when he got to the heart of the matter.

  “I hear something in your voice when you talk about this Blaine West guy—something more than gratitude for keeping you safe. Have you developed feelings for him?”

  “I have.” My admission was softly spoken. I was afraid they wouldn’t approve of a relationship with Blaine after the way we met.

  “Serious feelings?” he asked. My dad had never been the kind of man to let me hide from my fears.

  “I think I might love him.”

  “Oh, my sweet baby girl,” my mom sighed.

  “Sometimes love hits you like a bolt of lightning. It sure did for me when I met your mom. But you’ve just gone through an unusual experience, one putting you in a vulnerable position. Promise me you’ll be careful and not do anything rash. If what the two of you have is real, then I expect to meet him when we make it back home.”

  “I hope it is, but I’ll keep what you said in mind,” I agreed. With all the emotional talk out of the way, he shifted the conversation to lighter subjects, telling me about how they’d spent the last week at sea.

  By the time I got off the phone and climbed back into bed with Blaine, I felt distanced from the events of the day before. I was better prepared to turn it all around in my head. Just yesterday, Blaine had fought for me. Killed for me. If I’d had any doubts about being his before now, they would all be wiped away in the aftermath of the violence from last night. If the old saying was true, by saving my life, Blaine was now responsible for me forever.

  Forever.

  It was a strange word to use considering we’d only known each other six days—not even a full week—yet here I was, head over heels for this guy.

  “I know you’re awake, baby.” I wished I was better at faking sleep or he wasn’t quite so observant. Anything to let me feel his arms wrapped around me for even five more minutes before I had to face reality. Sadly, Blaine was who he was and I was who I was—which meant there was no fooling him. “If you’re worried about Brody, don’t be. He called after you fell asleep. Damian was right. The lawyers were able to secure his release without too many problems. They’re up in the penthouse suite. Damian likes to travel in style.”

  “I figured he was okay based on the article Phillips managed to get onto all the media outlets this morning. He spinned it so he came out like a superhero, of course. One part was weird, though. He actually credited Brody as a valuable asset to solving the case. Just Brody. Neither of us.”

  Blaine’s chuckle rasped over my skin. “I’m sure it’s something the lawyers forced him to do. There’s no way he did it voluntarily since I’m sure it killed him to share the limelight with Brody in any way.”

  “Well, at least he told the world I’m really alive. It made it easier when I called the police back this morning. Plus, my parents were relieved to hear the whole mess was getting cleared up with the help of the FBI. It also helped with my fans. I was able to share the story on my social media accounts since I highly doubt anyone would have believed it otherwise.” I pushed up and turned in his arms, sighing at how haggard he looked. His hair was spiked up in places, his cheeks covered in stubble that went well past a five o’clock shadow. Yet, he never looked better.

  “I know you slept in, but you still look like you haven’t gotten more than a few hours. Maybe you should try to get some more sleep.”

  “Nope. We need to talk.” His voice was firm as he said the four words nobody in a relationship ever wanted to hear.

  “About what?” My voice was tremulous, uncertain. No doubt due to the flutter of fear his words evoked.

  “You and me.”

  And there it was—confirmation. This was definitely going to be a talk I didn’t want to have. Not now and probably not ever. Pushing farther away from him, I settled myself on my pillows, curling my arms around myself in a protective gesture. I nodded my head, trying to evoke a sense of calm while I mentally prepared myself for the worst.

  “I want you to think about coming to Vegas with me.”

  I blinked slowly, trying to process his words, wondering if I was still asleep.

  “For a visit?”

  “If that’s what it takes to get you to come out, then yeah. We can call it a visit.”

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

  His jaw clenched, his gaze determined as he looked at me. “I want you in my life, Delia.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do,” he confirmed.

  The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me. “Don’t you think it’s too soon to know? We’ve known each other for less than a week.”

  “It might not have been a long time, but we’ve been together almost non-stop since day one,” he argued. “If we’d met each other under normal circumstances and started dating, it would have taken at least six months for us to spend this much time together.”

  He made an excellent point. I’d probably spent more time with Blaine than I had my last boyfriend. And we’d already been to hell and back. Who was I to argue with him about wanting me in his life? It was foolish of me to disagree when I wanted the same—badly. I snuggled closer to him and gave him the answer I should have said right away. “Okay.”

  Epilogue

  Blaine

  Six months later

  Delia’s first trip to Vegas was put on hold for a different journey, one we took together to my hometown for Serena’s funeral. Her mom wanted her in their family plot, down the street from the church we’d both attended growing up. I hadn’t been able to save Serena from her fate, but I refused to let her make the final trek home by herself. Delia had every reason to be angry for the trouble Serena pulled her into, but she wasn’t willing to let me go through this alone.

  It was the first time I’d brought a woman home to meet my mom and I did it while saying my final farewell to the first girl I’d ever cared about. It wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned for it to go, but Delia found a way to make everything better. As my mom struggled with the loss of the girl she’d known for years, Delia nurtured her through her grief. When Serena’s mom crumbled at the idea of writing an obituary for her daughter, Delia stepped in, helping to find the right words to poignantly describe her life. While I grieved for my childhood sweetheart, she offered her support and sympathy. Delia’s quiet grace made a trying time easier for everyone she met.

  Our relationship quickly fell into a rhythm after that, one dictated by the distance between us—and she was on her way back to me this very moment. It was the sixth time in as many months Delia had been out to Vegas for a visit. She flew out to me and spent four or five days in town, where we were together nonstop Friday night through Monday morning—mostly in bed. When I had to go to work on Monday morning, she either spent her next couple days getting some writing done or exploring the sights. The nights were all mine, though, and she never failed to make it back to my place before I did, proving she didn’t want to waste a single second of our time together.

  A couple weekends after she was back in Atlanta, I’d fly out to spend a couple days at her place. Same pattern, different location
—except I took a red eye flight home Sunday night so I could make it to work on Monday morning. The time always went by too quickly before I found myself back in Vegas.

  This trip was going to be different, though. I’d given Delia as much time as I was willing to give. I was all out of patience. She wasn’t getting back on the plane this time. The time we spent apart felt like a sin. Our relationship might have developed quickly and under unusual circumstances, but it was harder to survive the weeks I spent without her than it was to get through hell week. I didn’t care if I had to tie her to my bed until she agreed to stay, it was time for her to stop playing around and move in with me.

  By no stretch of the imagination did I consider myself a romantic man, but I’d done what I could to set the stage for tonight. The Italian restaurant attached to the casino would be catering dinner, and I’d ordered all her favorites. When Brody told Damian my plans, he’d sent someone from the hotel staff to set the table with linen, candles, and fancy ass plates. I bought flowers and had them waiting for her in a vase on the coffee table. Hell, I’d even sprinkled rose petals on the bed. Since she’d written a hero who did the same thing in one of her books, I figured it was something she’d appreciate.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d borrowed an idea from one of her books—the last time involving chocolate sauce and messy sheets. I didn’t feel quite as pussy whipped reenacting that scene, but I was only going to propose once in my life and I was damned sure going to make it good.

  I was doing one last sweep of the apartment, making sure everything was exactly the way I wanted it, when I heard her walk in the door. She liked to get in before I got home from work so she could get settled and I hadn’t wanted to tip her off that anything was different. I sent a car for her like I always did, but this time, I was ready and waiting for her.

  “Surprise,” I said softly as I watched her drop her bag on the ground. She was staring at the flowers on the table and I started to wonder if I’d gone a little overboard with the size of the bouquet.

  As soon as she heard my voice, her eyes jerked to me and then she was running across the room to throw herself into my arms. “I missed you so much.”

  “Missed you, too,” I whispered, my arms tightening around her as I lifted her off the ground. It felt good to have her close again. Damn good.

  I captured her mouth with mine, savoring her taste, our tongues tangling together. She whimpered a low sound deep in her throat. Gathering her hair in a fist, I tilted her head and took the kiss deeper. By the time I moved away from her lips, we were both flushed with desire and breathing hard.

  “I hate missing you. It’s getting harder to leave each time even though I know I’ll see you again,” she admitted.

  It wasn’t the way I’d planned to do this, but she just gave me the perfect opportunity. I wasn’t one to squander an opening like this. Now was as good a time as after dinner. I hoped.

  “Then don’t leave again.”

  Her eyes looked surprised when she looked up at me. “You want me to move in with you?”

  “No, I want you to marry me,” I corrected. I pulled the ring from my pocket and got down on one knee in front of her. “Marry me.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smiled down at me. “Are you asking me to marry you or telling me I’m going to?”

  “Telling.” She raised her eyebrow in response. “Fine, I’m asking. Delia Ann Sinclair, will you be my wife?”

  “It will be my pleasure and my honor.”

  “Thank fuck,” I sighed, sliding the ring onto her finger.

  “It’s about time,” she whispered. “I’m crazy in love with you, but I was starting to wonder how long I was going to have to wait until you asked.”

  “Crazy in love is the perfect way to describe my feelings for you, too.” I didn’t know how it was possible, but her face became more radiant at my words. “If I’d known, I would have asked before I ever left you in Atlanta the first time. And now that I know I wasted six months, I’m not waiting for fucking ever while you plan the perfect wedding.”

  “Even if it’s what I really want?”

  “Fuck,” I sighed, knowing I’d wait if that were what it took to make her happy. But I’d damn well do it with her in bed next to me the whole time. Then I heard her giggle and caught the gleam in her eye. “Are you messing with me?”

  “It’s Vegas, baby!” she cried.

  “This weekend.”

  “Next weekend,” she conceded. “I’m fine with a Vegas wedding, but I still want the perfect dress, flowers, and cake. My parents will also need enough time to fly in. Mila, too.”

  It was a hell of a lot sooner than I thought she’d make me wait. I could last two weeks until I made her my wife. If I had to. “I’ll handle the rest, and I promise it won’t be some tacky wedding chapel in town.” I waved my hand toward the table in the kitchen. “Damian arranged this in less than an hour after he found out I was going to propose tonight. I’ve seen some of the weddings they’ve had at his hotel. He’ll be able to help me set up something amazing for you.”

  “And what will I be doing while you’re handling all the wedding details?” Her voice held a hint of sass, a knowing tell she was thinking about starting an argument over this. If she was going to get mad, I figured I might as well make it worthwhile.

  “You’re going to start out by celebrating our engagement this weekend. Then, when you get back to your house this week, you’re going to pack it all up and ship it out here so you can move in with me before we get married. Somewhere in there, you can figure out the dress, cake, and flowers. I’m sure Mila will help.”

  “Cyan, too,” she mumbled. “I think I’ll have two bridesmaids at this wedding you’re planning for me. So you better make sure you have two groomsmen. It’s the least you can do if I’m going to be a crazy person up until our wedding. And we’re going to look for houses as soon as we get back from the honeymoon. Which better last for at least two weeks. Or else.”

  “Consider it done.” A two-week-long honeymoon might give us time to see something besides our hotel room. “Brody already told me he’s my best man. I’ll ask Damian to be a groomsman.”

  “I’m pairing Brody up with Cyan.” Her eyes lit with a knowing look. She was up to something and it wasn’t hard to figure out she was hoping to do a little match-making between the two.

  Brody had been acting strange lately. I’d been preoccupied, trying to juggle work and my long distance relationship with Delia. But now that I had her exactly where I wanted, I needed to pay closer attention to what was going on with him. After our honeymoon, of course. Until then, I had a wedding to plan for my woman and a ton of work to wrap up before we left. It didn’t leave me with much of a choice but to trust my best friend to have his own shit covered for the next few weeks.

  What’s Next In The Crisis Series?

  Security Crisis

  Yes, I am going to write books for Brody and Damian. Originally, I had planned on Identity Crisis being a standalone, but these things have a way of changing once I get to know some of the supporting characters better.

  Security Crisis will be Brody’s story. If you don’t want to miss out on news about the release of his book, please make sure you’ve joined my email newsletter.

  Sign up online at: http://eepurl.com/Ly1Tn

  Other Books by This Author

  Available for purchase on Amazon at:

  http://www.amazon.com/Rochelle-Paige/e/B00HEWGCFY/

  BLYTHE COLLEGE SERIES

  Push the Envelope

  Hit the Wall

  Summer Nights (novella duo)

  Outside the Box

  Winter Wedding (novella)

  BACHELORETTE PARTY SERIES

  Sucked Into Love

  BLACK RIVER PACK SERIES

  Crying Wolf

  Shoot For the Moon

  Thrown To the Wolves

  McMAHON CLAN SERIES

  Bear the Consequences

  Coming Soon From
CP Smith

  Framed

  Six hundred minutes. That’s all it took for trouble to find ex-SEAL Kade Kingston his first day home. He’d managed to survive covert operations in the hostile mountains of Afghanistan, only to be brought down by a baseball bat. If he had the first five hundred minutes back, he would have only had one drink before insisting Stan Sutton tell him what the hell was going on. As it stood now, he and Sutton were both dead in the water—literally and figuratively. Six hundred minutes. That’s all it took for Kade Kingston to walk back into hell in his own backyard, losing everything in the process, including his freedom.

  Inmate dog trainer, Harley Dash, knew Kade briefly as a teenager and was convinced of his innocence. Wanting to help the brooding ex-SEAL, she took it upon herself to force Kade into the Inmate Dog Training Program. While Kade was confined, Harley and her father, along with two sexy SEALs, looked for evidence that would set him free.

  Sutton's murder was just the tip of the iceberg in a case of corruption and murder, one that will send Kade and Harley into the Florida Everglades with a killer in hot pursuit.

  Will they survive the mosquitoes and alligators of the Everglades, or will the Dread Pirate Roberts exact his revenge?

  Acknowledgments

  My boys – Thank you for not complaining too much about the piles of laundry & carry-out meals while I was writing. Yes, I know... yet again. I love you!

  Mom – Thank you for always supporting me and inspiring me to live my dream.

  Yolanda – Thanks for being a great friend. Even though we live states away from each other, your continued support means the world to me.

  Monica –Thank you for putting your attention to detail to good use for me. This story wouldn’t be nearly as good without your help.

  Panty dropping Book Blog – Thanks for your help getting the word out about my books. Heather has been great and you all have done an amazing job pimping me! The bloggers that work with you have been so generous with their time and efforts on my behalf.