Dix started slowly. First, he showered and dressed, then he surfed the net, hoping a gift popped out at him.
He needed something special, something perfect.
***
The intercom buzzed. It sounded abnormally loud, or maybe it was her imagination.
Belle rinsed her hands in the sink and stepped away from the turkey meatloaf she’d been shaping to check the camera feed.
Dix stood in the lobby of her building—actually, his building.
I knew it! Damn him and damn Beauregard too.
Belle felt like slinking into her bedroom and hiding until he left. And perversely, she wanted to race to the lobby and let him have it.
Instead, she pressed the intercom button. “What do you want, Dix?”
“We need to talk.” His face was in profile, so she couldn’t read his expression.
“Why? Did you think of even more cruel things to say?”
“Please let me in so I can explain myself.” He looked directly into the camera and her heartbeat sped up.
“I’m done listening to you.” It would only rip the scabs off her wounds.
“You ain’t got the whole story—at least let me fill in the blanks.”
Belle hesitated. Dix was offering her closure—something she sorely needed, in order to move on. Besides, she deserved some answers. His rejection had come out of left field.
“Fine, you’ve got five minutes.” Against her better judgment, she hit the buzzer.
Quaxo drifted into the room as she nervously waited. He was always curious about visitors, and he’d learned the buzzer signaled new arrivals. She absently petted him to calm down.
A knock on the door.
She eased it open and sucked in a breath.
Dix wore a black suit with a charcoal gray tie, and damn if he didn’t look good standing there. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest, let the familiar warm and woodsy scent wash over her.
And she wanted to punch him in the face.
Quaxo hissed at the newcomer and scampered off to the bedroom.
Dix sneezed.
A long moment passed and neither of them spoke—couldn’t find the words.
Belle refused to break the silence.
“I had a speech planned, but it’s gone,” he said after a moment.
“Let me jog your memory. You were going to explain why you were a jerk.”
She wanted it over and done with so she could go to her bedroom, crawl into a little ball, and cry it out.
Belle turned on her heel, walking away from the door, and Dix followed her.
“Before I give my mea culpa, I have a gift for you.” Dix handed her a large red velvet pouch he pulled from behind his back.
“What is it?” Whatever was inside was heavy, and the velvet was warm and soft to the touch.
“Open it and see.”
“No, thank you.” Belle handed it back. She needed no more reminders of him.
“You don’t want it?” He looked stricken.
“I can’t accept it. Would you like some coffee? I can make some.” Belle didn’t want to drag this out, but she needed to do something with her hands or she’d go insane.
“Yes, I’d love some.”
Dix trailed her into the kitchen. After placing the meatloaf in the fridge, she scooped coffee beans into the stainless steel grinder. The rich, dark aroma of brewing coffee calmed her jagged nerves. They both stood awkwardly as the coffee pot bubbled and hissed.
Sure, she was hurting now, but her life would go on. It always did. There’d be other cups of coffee and other men in her life.
Everything would be okay—right?
Even though he stayed on the opposite side of the room, she could feel his eyes on her as she moved. Dix also took in every aspect of the kitchen. He touched the owl pot holders on the counter and smiled at the sticky note reminders she’d placed on the fridge.
When the pot stopped, she poured two owl mugs full of java. After fixing hers, she handed Dix a bottle of honey. As he took it from her, their fingers brushed.
Suddenly, she was back on his desk, sticky sweet and needy. His eyes grew darker, heated as though he recalled the very same image.
She gritted her teeth. “Let’s finish this.”
He flinched.
Belle sat with her back to the arm of the sofa, so she could face him, and grabbed a throw pillow, hugging it to her chest, the emotional equivalent of a bulletproof vest. Her throat ached, and she had to get through this without breaking down.
Just a few more minutes.
Dix placed the velvet bag on the coffee table before he took the other side of the couch and swiveled to meet her gaze.
Another prolonged silence.
There were so many things left unsaid between them, it might take a lifetime to get all the words out.
“I was a dick and I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry for pushin’ you away, for bein’ so callous.” He cleared his throat. “I bet you think I’m just like your father and I deserve the comparison. I hope you can forgive me someday.”
For a moment, she was thrown.
Belle hadn’t expected an outright apology, especially from a rough alpha type like Dix. It took guts to own up to mistakes and his remorse eased the pain some, cracking her icy demeanor.
Belle nodded, but she didn’t know what to say.
“Will you please accept my gift now?”
“You’ve given me too much already.” She gestured to the room.
“This gift is personal. I picked it out myself, and I want you to have it. Consider it part of the apology. Please?”
When he put it like that, it was hard to refuse.
“Okay.”
Inside the velvet pouch, was a black lacquer Phantom of the Opera music box—a rose and half-mask decorated the cover. And when she opened the lid, “Music of the Night” played.
Belle ran a finger along the velvet interior as she listened to the song.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You like it?”
Belle couldn’t say yes. Listening to the tinkling song would take her back to their night at the theater every time she heard it. Belle didn’t like the music box—she loved it—loathed it.
When it came to Dix, all of her emotions were strong.
“It’s the perfect gift,” she said after a moment.
Dix beamed.
And for a few minutes, they were both quiet, drinking coffee.
“You deserve to know why I pushed you away.”
“I think I understand what happened.” It didn’t make his behavior okay, but she got it on an intellectual level. “You care about me, and when I almost died, it triggered—”
“I don’t.”
“What?”
“Just care about you.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“What do you mean?” Belle had never seen him so rattled.
“Care don’t come close to describin’ what I feel. I don’t care about you, I obsess about you. If my brain were a building, you’d have an entire wing.” His brows drew together. “And I promised you an explanation. There are a couple of reasons why I broke it off. When you nearly died, I lost it. I had to get away from you. I couldn’t go through it again. The last time I lost the woman I…well, it nearly killed me, too.”
“Oh.” Her head spun as she tried to make sense of what he’d just said.
“I’ll get to the other reason in a second. But first, I didn’t give you the whole story about Ellie.”
“Tell me.”
His shoulders drooped. “Ellie died on the table, like I said, but the doctors saved our baby girl. She was premature and weak, but they saved her.”
Belle frowned. She didn’t see evidence of a child at his place.
“She was in the neonatal intensive care unit, and Sadie….” A smile faltered on his lips. “That’s her name—Sadie. She got better every day.”
“I’m glad they saved your daughter
.” At least he hadn’t lost it all.
“Me too, but I realized I couldn’t keep her.”
“Why not?”
“I’m a mobster, Belle. I was heartbroken and I didn’t have my Jiminy Cricket to guide my steps. What kind of father would I make? I’ll tell you—the kind you had.”
“I don’t believe that.” And Belle meant it. Their last incident aside, Dix had a good heart—she’d glimpsed it several times. “Believe me, I know what a crap dad looks like, and it’s not you.”
“Thank you for sayin’ it, but I still don’t think it’s true. Anyway, I arranged for Sadie to be adopted by a couple from Atlanta. They’re well off, but I told ’em to come to me if she wanted for anythin’. They send me pictures every year on her birthday.” Dix pulled out his billfold and handed her several pictures.
Belle’s heart melted when she thumbed through them. Sadie was an adorable dark-haired little girl. There were pictures of her peeking from beneath a blanket, cuddling a cat, sitting in front of a huge Christmas tree. Sadie seemed happy, loved.
“I gave Sadie up because I wanted more for her, and I realized the same thing at Hades. If you love someone, you put their needs above your own...”
“What are you saying?” Belle couldn’t believe her own ears.
“Bein’ without you is painful. If I were a braver man—a better man—I would’ve stayed away from you, but I can’t.”
“You…love me?”
“Yes, I’m fallin’ in love with you, Belle. And I’m worried somethin’ even more awful will happen, because it always does. But I’m willin’ to risk it for another shot with you, anyway...if you want me.”
I can’t do this. Her hands began to shake, and Belle stuffed them into the pockets of her jeans. “I’m sorry about your wife, and Sadie, and all you’ve been through.”
“You didn’t answer me. Can we start again?”
Could she let him in only to be tossed aside once more? Belle had been burned one too many times.
“No.” She walked to the door and grabbed the handle, ready to show him out, but his hand covered hers. It felt so good—warm and solid.
“I don’t have any right to ask, but I can’t bear bein’ without you.”
“Too damn bad. I promised I’d hear you out, and I did, but I can’t sign on for more. I can’t trust you.” She lifted her chin to look him in the eye.
“I’ll prove myself to you.”
Belle bit her lower lip.
“We aren’t done. You feel it, don’t you, Red?”
Belle wanted to believe in him again, but it was hard to let go.
“Give me another shot to get it right, without contracts or arrangements. I’m talkin’ a regular ol’ relationship—messy and unscripted.”
It’s exactly what she’d wanted a month ago.
“Do you still have feelings for me?” he asked.
“You already know I do.” Although, they were mixed.
The answering look in his eyes made her knees wobble.
“Do you think we’re a good idea together?” Because it sounded stupid, reckless, and wonderful all at the same time.
“Hell no, but it’ll be fun.” Dix smirked. “I can’t be your hero, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“You’re more heroic than you think.” He’d come to her rescue just in the nick of time.
“Only when it comes to you.”
“And what about your job?” A series of what if scenarios played in her mind. Assuming she could trust him again, what if he landed in jail? Or worse?
“I might end up in the pen or in the morgue. You can’t save me. There’s no out with the Dixie Mafia—once you’re in, you’re in for life. It’s a contract I couldn’t break even if I wanted to…and I don’t.”
“I see.”
She’d been presented with two choices—a risky life with the promise of love or a normal existence.
“I’m definitely askin’ too much, but do you want me anyway?” Dix cupped her cheek and she locked eyes with him.
What if she picked a darker, more complicated man to spend her life with? Sure, her story might end in tragedy, but would goody-two-shoes normalcy make her happy?
Hell no.
“Christine Daaé was an idiot.”
“Who?”
“The heroine in the musical. At the theater, you asked me what I would’ve done if I’d been Christine. Well, I’d have chosen the Phantom.”
Dix gave her a sexy, slow grin. “Oh, yeah? And why would you pick ol’ Scarface?”
“He wasn’t a hero, but he protected the woman he loved at all costs—and that means more to me.” She licked her lips. “Maybe we’ll end in disaster, but at least we’ll have a fantastic time trying, right?”
“Damn straight.” Dix whisked her off her feet and spun her around, then he kissed her breathless.
And when she could think again, they were snuggled on the couch, Belle was seated on his lap.
“We need to hire movers.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, a bit dazed.
“Yeah, you’re movin’ in with me.”
“You should ask a girl, not assume.” She gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Somehow, I think you’re gonna give in.”
“Nope.”
“Technically, I’m your landlord. I could evict you, and then you’d have to move in with me.”
“Speaking of which, why didn’t you just use your building keys and show up at my door?”
“That was Plan B.”
Belle wasn’t surprised. “Back to your earlier point—I’m sure there’s some kind of housing ordinance forbidding an eviction under those circumstances. Besides, you’re allergic to cats. You’ll be watery-eyed and sneezy most of the time.”
“I got the perfect solution—Quaxo can move in with Ten.”
“Forget it. The cat and I are a boxed set, so get onboard.”
“Fine. I’ll get some allergy meds, not a big deal. Any other objections?” She opened her mouth, but he kept right on speaking. “I didn’t think so. It’s settled—I’ll have the movers come on Monday.”
Since she wasn’t going to win this one, Belle let it go.
Besides, they’d be having many more arguments for years to come, and she’d win some of those.
Epilogue
“Phantom of the Opera again?”
“Sit back and enjoy yourself, Dix. You’ll be seeing it on stage every time there’s a revival.”
Belle had never been happier—dressed up, seated next to the man she loved, listening to beautiful music. They’d gone on a week-long New York City vacation, and Belle had booked them tickets for a show every night. She didn’t have to go back to work for seven whole days, and she was taking advantage of the opportunity to relax.
Actually, life was pretty amazing. She loved her job and her boyfriend. The trust was building between them day by day. While their relationship wasn’t conventional, it worked for Dix and Belle. There were no more contracts or roles—just love.
“Lord help me. I got thirty more years of this.” He shifted in the velvet chair beside her. They had box seats again, so the view of the stage was excellent. This production was even more incredible than the traveling one they’d seen in Dallas.
“I thought you liked the show.”
“I loved the intermission.”
Belle had a mental image of him entering her from behind, and her thighs clenched.
Dix leaned over to whisper, “After the chandelier drops, we’re gonna give a repeat performance.”
And suddenly, she couldn’t concentrate on the production.
“Let me give you a preview.” Dix stripped off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her lap, then his hand settled between her thighs, stroking upward.
“What are you doing?” Belle gasped as he slipped a finger beneath her lace panties.
“Havin’ some fun. I suggest you sit back and enjoy yourself.”
And while Christine
sang “Angel of Music” to her dark protector, Belle’s took her to heaven—right here on Earth.
Thank y’all for readin’!
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Books in the Series
Flesh and Blood (Dix & Belle)
Blood in the Water (Byron & Jane)
More coming soon!
About the Author
Cynthia Rayne is a USA Today bestselling author and co-author of the Amazon best-selling Four Horsemen MC series along with her sister, best friend, and partner-in-crime, Sara Rayne. While Cynthia was born and raised a damn Yankee in Ohio, her parents hail from Dixie, and she grew up on homemade buttermilk biscuits and southern wisdom. In her spare time, she enjoys shopping, reading way too many romance novels, and drinking a truly obscene amount of coffee.
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Copyright
© Cynthia Rayne 2016
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review or book discussion, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
Editing
Edits by Jade
Theresa M. Cole
Stock Photo
stokkette via Can Stock Photo
Cover Art
© Sarah Laney 2016
Sweet Southern Creations
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s wicked imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and frankly a bit creepy.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Flesh and Blood (Dixie Mafia Series Book 1) Page 22
