Stella hadn’t even realized her own eyes had filled with tears and started to glimmer more than the chandeliers overhead until the lights in the room dimmed and the flat-screen TVs on either side of the stage popped on with a home video of Troy when he was a baby, playing catch with Greg. She felt the moisture moving in her eyes when her gaze flew across the table to Greg, who’d already slammed his eyes shut and buried his mouth in Blue’s head—who was busy chewing on his tie. His lips were pressed tight, trembling, as if the memories of his baby boy were still too much to bear.
Stella looked back at the plasma screens and begged for control. But as the reel went on, showing Troy growing up, seeing her own face in many of the images as it spanned his life from kindergarten to high school, something kicked back to life in her. Something that twisted her stomach and tightened her hands into fists. Something that made it impossible for the tears filling her eyes not to fall down her cheeks and soak the fabric of her dress. When a video clip of her and Troy on their wedding day filled the screen, she hadn’t even realized she’d shot to a stand until every eye in the room seemed to move to her in an instant, most of which were filled with just as much emotion as hers, since the majority of them had known Troy too.
She avoided everyone’s gaze as her hammering heart felt like it had leaped out of her body, covered it with her trembling fingers, and moved away from the table, making her chair creak against the floors in her haste to escape.
She walked slowly at first, but as she weaved and wagged through each table in the massive room, her stride picked up a little more until she was running, desperate to escape that video reel, desperate to escape all the curious eyes in the room, and most of all, desperate to escape whatever feeling was tearing through her body like a hot knife through butter.
23
Only after Stella had made it all the way to the other side of the house and barricaded herself in the study did her pulse slow, her breathing relax, and her tears dry. She was convinced the rapid rebound of emotion was all thanks to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase shelves that surrounded her in a library that always reminded her of the one in Beauty and the Beast. Corrine had always insisted that the domed painted ceilings, the rounded walls, and the sprawling domed windows had nothing to do with the Disney classic, but since it had been Stella’s favorite movie, it was all she could see. It had always been the room in that house that had relaxed her the most, and that moment was no exception.
When the door of the study clicked open behind her, however, her heart went into overdrive once more. But for a very different reason that it had back in the ballroom.
This time her body responded to him. That tall, broad body in a perfectly tailored tuxedo. That jet hair, perfectly slicked. And those green eyes, soft in a way they only got for her. In a way that, once upon a time, she hadn’t even known them capable. Not until she’d been lucky enough to be on the receiving end, and watch her daughter be on the receiving end as well.
“Rocco, I’m sorry…”
He stepped into the study and closed the door behind him. “I must’ve run all over this house looking for you.”
“It’s just… when they started that video, something happened to me.”
He sank his hands deep in both his pockets.
But it was too late. She’d already seen them trembling. “I was shocked because I kept waiting to feel the pain, the incredible pain that takes over my heart every time I so much as think about him, let alone have a video reminder of his face, his voice, his entire aura, playing right in front of me… and it never came.”
His eyebrows jumped.
“It’s gone…” She shook her head wildly. “Whatever monster, whatever darkness was inside me before, tearing me limb from limb whenever I so much as thought about him, it’s gone, Rocco.”
His nostrils flared. “I saw the tears in your eyes.”
“Tears of relief. Relief when it hit me that… that none of this matters to me anymore. Not Troy, but, everything else. It doesn’t matter if I got my dress is from Neiman Marcus or Marshall’s. If my jewelry doesn’t glimmer as bright as the woman at the table next to me, or how much she paid for the designer clutch she’s holding, or what her husband does for a living and how it stacks up against mine. I don’t care about any of that anymore. It’s all just so stupid, Rocco. So frivolous and empty. So far removed from everything we’ve had together that it blows my mind how it could have possibly meant so much to me such a short time ago.”
“You don’t have to say this if…”
“I mean it…” She moved across the room and cupped his cheeks. “I was in tears because that was the moment I knew, in the deepest part of me, that I was free. And that… that this is right. You and me.”
His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. “When I saw you get up and walk out… When I saw you crying… I thought… Fuck, I thought ‘this is it.’ She’s finally realized she can do a million times better than me.”
“Baby…” she cooed, her hands circling his head and digging into his hair. “That’s not possible. And I have a ring on my nightstand that proves it. A ring that, after today, I swear I’ll never take off again. And whoever sees it, sees it. I don’t care. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and that’s all that matters, Rocco. That’s all I want.”
He leaned down.
She pulled back. “Not here.”
His hands flew to her waist, fingers digging in. “One kiss.”
“Someone will see.”
“Just one. It would’ve already been over with by now.”
She squealed when he used his hold on her waist to tug her in, sealing every inch of their bodies together until they could feel each other’s heartbeats so clearly that they eventually faded into one—until neither of them could tell where their own pumping veins ended and the other’s began.
She whimpered around the tender kiss he pressed to her lips, unable to stop herself from drawing his bottom lip between hers for a second kiss right after the first. He leaned in, gasping in a breath, and ran his tongue softly against her top lip before drawing it between his own, moaning as her flavor entered his body the same way his had entered hers. Lighting it up and burning everything in its path to ash until nothing existed except fire that still burned only for each other.
They fell into the embrace, the kiss deepened, and he zeroed in, sending them stumbling backward and slamming into the bookcase. Stella’s arms went over her head as his hands roamed her body to give him easier access, clawing for anything to hold onto. She tried to take hold of the ladder next to her, which led to the highest shelves of the bookcase, but the wheels on the bottom gave way under her weight, rolling to the other end of the shelves.
“God, I’m addicted to you.” She gasped when their lips parted with a smack, and her gasps moved to whimpers when he moved his kisses down her cheek and along her neck, his greedy fingers cupping her breasts at the same time. She clamped her thighs when his other hand moved up her dress. “I’m still on my period.”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
And just like any addiction, neither did she. Not only was she physically dependent on her favorite supply, but mentally as well. Until nothing else in the world mattered but getting that next hit. Everything became blurry, muddy, literally ceasing to exist even as her drug of choice remained crystal clear, running its big hands up her thighs to the aching cavern between her legs.
But before she could get that hit, Stella’s eyes blinked open, looked toward the door of the library, and she screamed with all her might at the sight of DJ, standing motionless, at entrance.
“Fuck!” Stella cried, slapping Rocco’s hands away and yanking the hem of her dress back down around her knees.
Rocco’s eyes flew over his shoulder, caught sight of DJ as well, and he seemed to lose all sense of balance, grabbing hold of the bookcase on both sides of Stella’s body as if his knees were trying to give out, dropping his head low and shaking it
softly.
Stella bent down under Rocco’s arm, escaping the makeshift cage his arms had her encased in and raced toward DJ.
But DJ took a step away, tears filling her eyes, her lips downturned at the corners. The only things that seemed to glitter more than DJ’s blue eyes at that moment were the beautiful gold sequins of her dress, but the glimmer in DJ’s eyes was nowhere near as beautiful. More like repulsed, disgusted as though she’d just taken a deep breath and smelled something rancid.
Stella froze mid-step at the look—one she’d never seen on DJ’s face, clenching her fists.
“I knew it,” DJ spoke through clenched teeth. “God, I knew it. I fucking knew it.”
“DJ, it’s not what it looks like, I swear. We’re in love.”
“We didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” Rocco’s deep voice boomed in from behind her.
“And at Troy’s fundraiser, huh?” DJ spoke as if she hadn’t heard a word either of them said. “It’s just so… fucking gross. A whole new level of crass. Uncharted, actually.”
Stella’s teeth began to chatter, but DJ didn’t seem to notice because her eyes had shifted over Stella’s shoulder to Rocco.
“You were his best friend in the world.” DJ pressed her lips together as she spoke slowly to Rocco. “He invited you into the family. He called you his brother…”
Stella held a hand out behind her and placed it on Rocco’s stomach, the same way a mother would reach for her child in the back seat during a near-accident on the road. She could feel Rocco’s stomach heaving under her fingers and curled them into claws, wishing she could climb inside his body, exorcize whatever was tearing it up, and feel it herself so that he wouldn’t have to. She backed up, coming up beside to him, and tried to look up into his eyes, but his gaze was locked onto DJ, unblinking. As if he wanted to be completely alert as she delivered the final blow he seemed to understand was coming.
DJ charged on. “He could’ve let you take that bullet overseas, and you wouldn’t even be here today to spit on his grave the way you are right now. You were never his brother. You weren’t even his friend.”
And there it was. The deathblow. The one that sent an agonized gleam racing across Rocco’s face that Stella had never seen before. She felt even more like the mother that was reaching for the baby in the back seat during a near accident in the car, but this time, the accident had actually happened. And all she could think about was doing everything in her power to make sure the person she loved was okay.
Her eyes flew to DJ. “Don’t talk to him like that, DJ. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“No, Troy doesn’t deserve this,” DJ screamed, motioning to them.
“Troy?” Stella breathed. “Let me tell you a little something about Troy, DJ!”
“Stella.” Rocco took her arm.
She snatched it away. “Troy died millions of dollars in debt. By the time I’d emptied out the inheritance, the savings, the stock options, sold off all my clothes, my jewelry, my car, and paid off all the debt he’d left behind, everything he’d left for Blue and me was gone—everything! With mountains of money still left to be paid. Maybe if you hadn’t fallen off the face of the earth these last few months, until my fucking co-worker felt more like my friend than the girl I’ve known my whole life—maybe you’d know that.”
“I knew you were fucking my brother’s best friend, Stella, that’s why I fell off.”
“You’re all so wrapped up in making Troy this blinding, shining hero. This martyr. This beacon of perfection. He wasn’t! He wasn’t a bad guy, he did his best, but he left Blue and me in a lot—a lot—of trouble. Deeper in debt than you could ever imagine. Why do you think no one in the Armstrong family saw any money after he died? Did you all secretly think I was hoarding it this whole time? There was no money! I was working at a whorehouse just to make ends meet—”
The color drained from DJ’s face.
“Stella…” Rocco stepped forward.
“No.” She shrugged her arm out of his hold when he tried to reach for her again, keeping her eyes on DJ. “Every night I told you my suit and tie boss was calling me in the middle of the night, it was actually the Asian owner of a seedy massage parlor downtown that catered to desperate, lonely men, and gave extras in exchange for big tips. That’s how I made ends meet. That was how desperate I was.”
DJ clenched her fists at her sides.
“Do you know that Rocco caught me in that very parlor one night when he and his team raided the place? Do you know how easily he could have hauled me out to that SWAT van and taken me to jail, the way his team did every other girl working that night? But he didn’t. He put his life, his career, his entire future on the line just to get me out of that parlor safely. Then he threw away the FBI to stay behind and ensure Blue and I were okay. And you know what? He did a damn good job. He did a damn good job taking care of us while you were ignoring my calls. So don’t you dare… don’t you dare stand there and debase him to my face because you have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, DJ. He’s the only reason I’m not rotting in a jail cell right now. The only reason Blue didn’t become a full-blown fucking orphan—so just stop.”
DJ nodded rapidly with every word Stella hit her with, speaking through clenched teeth when silence finally fell. “Do you know what Rocco said to Troy, right before his last deployment?”
The tone of DJ’s voice made Stella’s spine straighten, and when she looked up at Rocco to see if he had any idea what DJ was talking about, the ashen tone of his skin gave her all the answer she needed.
“DJ,” Rocco begged.
“I overheard them during Thanksgiving dinner.” DJ crossed her arms when Stella’s wide eyes flew back to her. “Troy didn’t even want to go back. He didn’t want to take that job. Told his superiors to give it to a junior correspondent. Said he wanted to focus on his documentaries, that the region was too unstable—too dangerous—even for him. They offered him more money, a lot more, but Troy said he had a child on the way and wanted to be home with you and the baby.” DJ’s eyes went ice cold. “Rocco’s the one who convinced him.”
Stella’s eyes flew back to Rocco and filled with tears.
But he couldn’t even look at her, unable to tear his glassy, wounded eyes from DJ, nostrils flaring.
“Tell her, Rocco. Tell her what else you had to say that day.” DJ blinked rapidly at Rocco, waited several seconds, and then look back at Stella. “Fine. I’ll tell her. He told Troy that most men who’d been deployed would do anything to get back home to their wives, but Troy should do anything to stay away from his.”
Stella felt the moment her heart shattered to a million pieces at her feet. She couldn’t even look up at Rocco that time, too afraid of what he might see in her eyes.
“He told Troy that you’d only take any man stupid enough to take care of you down in flames. He told Troy that he deserved better than you.” DJ took a deep breath. “How’s that for your knight in shining fucking armor?”
Stella tried to take a deep breath, but it was like a thousand knives had been impaled in her lungs, rendering the action impossible. This time, when Rocco took her arm and whispered her name, she snatched it away, refusing to even look up at him.
A long, suffocating silence fell with the three of them slowly drowning in it, feeling seconds from dying a slow, painful death just as Ivy came racing into the room.
“Stella!” Ivy beamed, gasping as she jogged inside the study as best as she could in her teal stiletto sandals. “God, where the hell have you been? Everyone’s waiting for you. Troy’s mom wants you to say a few…” Ivy’s eyes danced all over the room, taking only a second to appear to realize what was going on. “Words…”
“Ivy…” Stella’s nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath. “I want you to take me and Blue home. Now.”
Rocco took her arm when she tried to walk away. “Stella—”
“Don’t touch me!” Stella turned and shoved him away from her with all his might, pullin
g a stunned gasp from every soul in the room before turning back to Ivy’s alarmed face. “Take me home. Now.”
“Yeah, okay.” Ivy motioned to the door of the study, her wide eyes full of confusion and an open mouth that didn’t dare ask for clarity.
Her wide-eyes darted all over the study one last time before she turned on her heel and jetted out, following the blazing path Stella had left behind.
24
Stella sat on the edge of the living room couch later that night, still in her purple Calvin Klein dress, leaning forward on her knees and playing her engagement ring between her fingers. Hiding the ring in her fisted hands a moment later, she pressed them against her lips as she stared straight ahead, knees bopping. It’d been hours since she and Ivy had wrestled Blue’s car seat out of the back of Rocco’s truck in the Armstrong driveway before hightailing it back to Cascade Hills as fast as Ivy’s Ford Focus would move. As soon as they were home, Stella had put Blue to bed before sitting on the edge of that couch, where she’d remained, staring ahead at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, fighting to wrestle with her thoughts.
She didn’t even look toward the foyer when the click of the front door rang into the house, long after the sun had finally set and was replaced with the moonlight kissing the sheer white window curtains. The sound of his dress shoes clicking against the floors came next. Followed by the scent of his woodsy cologne—as well as the smell of his skin, which she hadn’t even realized had a smell until the first time they’d made love when she’d learned the thrill of smelling and tasting him all at once. It’d been like sampling a cut of delicate, exotic steak for the first time. The kind that was so expensive and rare most were only able to savor it on the most special occasions.
She’d been convinced it was a delicacy that would be hers forever, but now, with that once mouth-watering scent moving in closer as he entered the living room, followed by the deep loom of his shadow, she couldn’t even turn her head to look.
Forbidden (War Book 1) Page 29
