Before me is the man I never thought I’d lay eyes on again.
With his hands tucked in the pockets of his grey slacks, his smile so wickedly handsome beneath the pale moonlight, he deeply murmurs, “It’s been a while, Red.” And I can’t believe myself, my body’s reaction, but from the sound of his highly intoxicating voice, I clench like never before.
One last step and I can finally see him clearly. He looks the same, if not better. A little skinny and a little more rugged, like he’s been through hell and back, but better.
Sexier.
Sleeker.
Breathtaking.
“Ace.” I release a sharp gasp. My head spins. My gut churns. My body starts to rock back and forth. I’m losing the battle with gravity.
He realizes what’s happening, and I think I’ve completely lost my mind because the last thing I hear him say is my name before I fall backwards. My eyes shut, and I fade into darkness.
***
The warm stretch of horizon sun stretches across the ceiling. My heavy eyelids flutter, and a soft groan fills my throat. A replay of last night flashes in mind, and I sit up with haste, observing the bedroom.
I frown. I’m in the bedroom. How the hell am I in the room? I saw him last night… I saw…
“Finally awake, sleepy head!” Bianca’s voice chimes as she enters the room with a wet washcloth. My head whips to meet her brown eyes. My frown grows tighter. “Took quite a fall last night, missy,” she says, wiping my forehead and cheek with the warm cloth.
“Bianca?” My throat is dry, causing my voice to crack. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
Her eyes soften a touch as she looks me over. When she meets my gaze, she sighs and sits on the edge of the bed beside me. The bed dips, but I adjust myself, giving her my undivided attention. “Last night,” I whisper. “I know I may miss the hell out of him, but I’m not insane. I saw him… and that text you sent—”
“He’s here.” Her serious tone cuts me off. My eyes stretch with disbelief.
“He’s here?” I repeat.
She nods, pursing her lips. “I know it sounds fucking insane, but he’s here, London. He’s back. Ace…” her voice becomes throaty and theatric, “…he never died. That gut feeling you had was right all along. He. Never. Died.” Her eyes glisten, the glossiness sparkling from the rising sun.
“He’s… holy shit,” I hold my hands up in front of me for a quick pause, stunned. “…he’s here. Ace is here? Our Ace?”
“Our Ace,” she murmurs. She glances over her shoulder, listening to the clanking of dishes coming from the kitchen downstairs. My eyebrows draw together, and I hop out of the bed, rushing to the door.
“Is that him?” I ask. I rush down the hallway and hurry down the stairs.
“No, London—shit!” She chases after me, catching my elbow and whirling me around before I can round the corner and enter the kitchen. “Can you just calm the hell down and think things through for a second?!” Her mascaraed eyelashes bat at me, and she releases my arm, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why would Ace be in your home? In the kitchen that you share with Greg?”
I blink and swallow hard, dumbfounded. I then lean to my right, stealing a peek in the kitchen. Over the sink, I spot Greg, wearing his usual white button-down and black slacks. His suit jacket is hanging on the back of a chair at the table.
Bianca drags me back upstairs to the bedroom, forces me to sit on the bedroom bench, and shuts the door behind her quietly. “You’re lucky Greg didn’t find you out on the lounge chairs. I got here before the sun rose. I was already on my way. I told Ace I was right behind him.” She blows out a heavy sigh. “I took Aden to his appointment and then dropped him off at daycare. He’ll be there for a few hours… until you pull your shit together.”
I stare up at her. Blinking is out of the question. I feel like I’ve encountered a ghost. But he’s here, and when I passed out last night, that means he brought me up to the lounge chairs. Bianca rubs her face and then tucks her hair behind her ears as she sits beside me.
“Greg told me he heard you go out for some air last night, so he went to bed. Figured you needed some alone time. He thinks you came back in and fell asleep on the couch. After all, that’s where Maurice ended up dragging you to. You got lucky on this one. We don’t need Greg getting suspicious. Not now.”
Oh forget Greg! He isn’t the one I’m worried about. “Ace.” I turn in her direction. “Did he say anything?”
She gives me a blatant look. “He didn’t want to leave your side, but I got him to think straight and leave eventually.”
“W-will he be back?”
“I’m more than certain he’ll be back.”
I stand to my feet, pacing in front of her. “I need to see him,” I state. “I need to talk to him. It’s been so long. I need to know what happened.”
She groans, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Do you really think that’s wise?”
I stop pacing, frowning down at her. “Bianca, this is Ace we’re talking about. He’s the father of my child—”
“And he hasn’t changed, London!” she snaps, rising from the bench. Her cheeks redden embarrassingly when she realizes how loud her tone is. She breathes evenly, her eyelashes fluttering as she recollects patience. “Ace,” she whispers. “I love him to fucking death, but he has not changed. That’s why I warned you with a text, so you’d be prepared. So you’d actually think things through and realize how good you have it now… without him. Are you really willing to give that up for an unknown future with Ace?”
Horror etches my face as I step back. My breath comes to a halt, watching as Bianca shakes her head, frustrated. “How can you say that?” I ask, my voice barely heard. “He was gone for three years, Bianca. We thought he was dead. We grieved for so long. We should be glad he’s still alive!”
“I know, and I am!” She steps forward to cap my shoulders. “It’s not just you I’m thinking about, London. It’s Aden too. He deserves to meet his real father but I’m afraid it will confuse him right now. He calls Greg his dad sometimes. I didn’t tell Ace that, but once he finds out, he’ll flip shit, and I don’t want that. I don’t want him raising hell, not when things are finally going smoothly. It’s best to talk to Ace… he’ll want to, and he won’t leave until he gets the chance to, but be wise about your decisions. Okay?”
“I will,” I reply quickly. But I know I won’t. I’m far from wise around Ace Crow. He stole my breath away last night. I remember. Seeing him made me lose myself. Seeing him made me ache for his touch… for his love. For every single part of his delicious body.
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“How can I reach him?”
“He will be back once Greg leaves…”
My lips twitch. “That soon?”
“Aden isn’t here. He knows that, and Greg won’t be either. He wants you alone. No distractions. It’s Ace for Christ’s sakes.” She laughs, her hair swaying at her shoulders. Flipping her wrist, she checks her silver Michael Kors watch and then curses beneath her breath. “Crap. I have a to go. I have a flight in an hour. Big show tonight.” She starts for the door, but before opening it, she pauses, glancing over her shoulder. “Be careful, London. Ace wanted to change back then, but he’s back now. He’s making a statement. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know what he’s up to, but you and I both know Ace always has a plan. He always craves the wrong things.”
I press my knuckles to my numb lips, watching as she swings the door open and listening to her march down the stairs. She gives Greg a quick goodbye and several seconds later, the front door clicks shut behind her. Carefully, I take a seat on the cushioned bench, staring down at the polished floorboards.
Moments later, Greg enters the bedroom, knocking on the door to capture my attention before stepping in. “You didn’t tell me Bianca would be coming by,” he says, tucking his fingers in his front pockets and smiling. “Doesn’t she have a show or somethi
ng tonight?”
“Uh… yeah. I didn’t know she would. She wanted to surprise Aden.”
“Oh. Sweet of her.” He starts my way, and I still as he reaches for me, grabbing my hands and pulling me up. He steps in, pressing against me. Tilting his head, he asks, “Are you okay? You didn’t come to bed last night.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I was watching a movie and ended up falling asleep. Some chick flick.”
He laughs then places a kiss on my forehead. “You know I hate going to bed without you.”
I press my lips to smile, but it feels cold and heartless.
“Well…,” he pulls one arm away to check his watch, “I should get going. Gotta be at work in thirty. Traffic is always a bitch.”
“Right.” I force a light laugh. Greg places a swift kiss on my cheek, and I follow him downstairs to the kitchen. He grabs his suit jacket then walks around me, smiling genuinely before opening the garage door, giving me yet another kiss on the lips, and then shutting the door behind him.
Once I hear the engine of his truck roar to life and the garage gate close after him, I release a heavy breath and lean against the wall, running a hand across my face. Once I’ve gathered a small ounce of composure, I head for the kitchen, searching the inside of the cabinet for a glass. After filling it to the rim with water from the tap, I take three full gulps and then slam the glass down, gasping for unnecessary breath.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I should get ready,” I tell myself. I don’t know when he’ll show up, and I don’t know what he wants… or what will happen. I do know I’m weak for him, always have been. I’m afraid to confront him after so long. What if he finds me different? What if he’s ready to move on? What if he came back just to tell me he was alive but that we could never be together again?
I sigh, staring out the window across from me. It’s a nice day. Windy. The sun is high and bold, leading the water to sparkle in its presence. It’s gorgeous. I love it here. I came for the serene atmosphere. I needed to get as far away from Virginia and New York as possible. I had to start over, and a part of me is glad I did, but the other… well, that other half still misses what used to be.
Soft footsteps sound a short distance away, and I snap out of my thoughts. I begin to turn around, but when he speaks, I freeze.
“The way he talks to you… kisses you… don’t like it.” That voice, deep and familiar, catches me completely off guard. My eyes bug out of my head, tendrils of my hair covering my face. I clutch the edge of the countertop. I thought I had more time—time to get ready for his appearance. Time to collect myself.
But no.
Here he is.
Right behind me.
Shit.
“Look at me, London,” Ace says, his voice deep and indisputably missed. I have the urge to move, to do something, but my body refuses to budge. I’m still frozen.
“W-why are you here, Ace?” My voice is barely a whisper, but he hears me.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I hear him take a step forward. The sound of my pulse pounds in my ears. “Turn around and look at me, Red. Won’t ask again.”
“Ace,” I breathe. I shut my eyes, my stance now unsteady. I find the strength to turn, but my eyes remain closed.
“Open them,” he demands. “Look at me.”
“I’m afraid…”
“Of?”
“Passing out again… you leaving… me thinking I’m insane.”
“You aren’t insane.” Another step forward. “And as for me leaving,” his voice sounds closer. So real. So intimate. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that. If you pass out again, I’ll be taking you with me this time. I was being generous last night.”
“So I did see you on the beach,” I muster. I slowly open my eyes, and it’s completely unexpected to see him no less than three steps away. I blink rapidly, fumbling over my own feet and bumping into the edge of the counter. “How did you get in?”
“Front door was unlocked.” His head tilts with sheer curiosity. I expect him to speak, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes the last three steps forward and raises a hand to cup my cheek. Pain fills his eyes, a pain I know is indescribable. “They haven’t changed at all,” he mumbles.
“What?” I’m breathless.
“Your eyes. You. Still so damn beautiful.”
My throat thickens in a good way, but I press my back further into the counter edge. Ace doesn’t dare back off. He cradles my face in both hands, and hot tears form at the rims of my eyes.
When he realizes the emotion has set in, his face goes blank, and he says, “Don’t cry… Please. Don’t.”
I try to pull away, but he refuses to release me. I can’t help my tears. For months—years—I thought he was dead. I thought another person I loved was gone for good.
“Why are you crying?” he asks.
I glance up, spotting that unspeakable pain again. I’m hurting him… my tears are hurting him. Damn it, London. Stop it! He’s here. He’s back. Forget everything else for a second and relish in that!
“I just… I can’t believe it. I thought—we all thought…” I release a ragged breath. Ace swipes my tears away with the pads of his thumbs, his jaw clenching.
“I’ll tell you what happened after you left.”
I look up, meeting his hard, honey irises. “When?”
“I will. Just not now.” He lowers one hand, and without warning, he grabs my thigh and lifts my leg, wrapping it around his waist. He does the other the same, picking me up and planting my ass on the countertop. A sharp breath passes through my heavy lips; my heartbeat thunders in my chest. I’m stunned, but I don’t stop him. “Years, London.” His voice is a near growl. Erotic. Tantalizing. He spreads my legs apart, pushing his way to the center. “Way too long.” Heat bombards me when I realize his cock is pressing on my core.
I clench, knowing this is wrong—damaging—but I still can’t seem to stop him. He leans in, spreading his lips to suck on my neck. I moan as my head falls back, and he grasps my hair, tugging gently while his other hand clutches my hip. He brings himself closer, thrusting his strained cock against me.
I become lost—lost in the way he tastes me. Lost in the way he groans, the way he aches for me. The way I ache for him. My walls repeatedly constrict with need. I pull him closer, scratching at the back of his suit jacket.
“Missed you, Red. More than any-fucking-thing.” His thrusting is rougher now. Pleasure courses through me, from my belly to my sex. I throb. But right before I completely give myself to him, my gaze points toward the portrait on the wall across from me.
A picture of me holding Aden. Smiling. Resilient of all the worldly shit for once in my life.
Aden…
“Shit, Ace… wait,” I pant, forcing him back. He draws back, a slight frown on his face as he looks at me. “I… I can’t do this,” I whisper.
He narrows his gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean I can’t do this here… not when I know what awaits me once you leave.”
“I told you. I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere until I get you back.”
I shake my head. “But that’s the thing…” He steps back, scowling. My heart cracks, but I proceed. “Greg is still here. Greg… he took me in. He took me and Aden in. I can’t betray him, not like this.”
“London,” Ace’s voice is gravelly. Irritated. “I’m here for you and the child I just found out is mine. Does it look like I give a one fuck about Greg?”
I hop off the counter, anger surfacing within me as well. “You may not give a shit about him, but I do! I care about him. As crazy as it may seem to you, I love him. And you left!” Shots fired. He tries keeping his face even, but I know I’ve just hurt him.
I don’t care.
I can’t care.
I have to think about my child’s future. His happiness. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about what’s good for him, like Bianca said. “You can’t just come into our house and make demands, Ace! You c
an’t come back and expect everything to fall back into place. This isn’t your world anymore. This isn’t New York. This is three years down the road and me finally pulling my life together. I have a child—your child—that I have to put first. He is what’s in my best interest now. It’s not just you anymore, Ace.”
“You’re blaming me for a disappearance I had no control of?” he growls.
“No control?”
He stares at me with heated eyes but doesn’t respond.
“Where were you?” I ask.
“Away,” is all he says.
“What happened?”
“If I tell you now, it’ll ruin everything. I came here to forget about it for a while…”
I sigh, raking my fingers through my hair. “Ace, I’m not blaming you for anything, but showing up like this—without warning—like everything would just fall into place again. You could’ve at least called.”
He steps back, but his gaze lingers. His face becomes rock solid, and fear strikes me—not fear that he may hurt me, but fear that I’ve just hurt him. He may not be showing it, but I know, somewhere inside, I’ve just whipped at his emotions, squeezed his heart. I expect him to try and hurt me back with words, but he doesn’t.
Instead he says, “If you don’t want me here, tell me to leave.”
“W-what?”
“Tell me to leave, London, and I’ll never come back. Tell me you want me gone, and I’ll be out of your way.”
I narrow my eyes. “Doing what?”
“Doesn’t matter. When I’m gone, it won’t be any of your concern. I will no longer be your concern.” He steps forward, nostrils flaring. I step back, meeting his heated watch.
“No,” I muster.
“No?”
“No. I’m not telling you to leave.”
“Why? That’s what you want, right? You want me to disappear again so you can pretend to be happy with that son-of-a-bitch Greg?” He presses his firm chest on mine, and his scent overwhelms me. My knees nearly buckle, but I remain steady. His mouth hovers above mine, the warmth consuming me. He watches me, his jaw locked, face as hard as stone. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, dying for his touch, for one taste, but he doesn’t provide.
Beware 2: The Comeback Page 5
