He sighed and kissed her shoulder. “Because I’m an idiot.”
She shook her head. “No, you’re not.” She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “You’re not, but why did you go?”
He sighed again, trying to figure out what in the hell he was supposed to say. He couldn’t exactly tell her he’d walked away because his partner wouldn’t understand or that closing the door in her face had been his last-ditch effort at pretending he wasn’t crazy about her. How could he possibly share with her that the whole reason this thing had started in the first place was that he needed to get to her father? “A lot of reasons.”
She frowned. “Oh.”
“But none of them matter more than this—lying right here with you.”
She smiled, blinking as her baby browns grew dewy. “Aww.”
He loved the way he could read her emotions just by looking in her eyes. “When I moved to LA, my goal was to focus on me for a while and get my head screwed on straight. I was pretty messed up after the investigation fell apart. I was never looking for this, Bella. When I met you—I didn’t expect things to happen this way.”
“I like that we’re here. That we were friends first before we took this step.”
“Me too.” He kissed her forehead, then her temples, and moved until they were facing each other on their sides.
“Are you going to sleep over?”
“I want to, but tomorrow’s an early day.” And he had something he needed to take care of before things went any further. “We could camp out tomorrow, though.”
“Sounds good. We’ll get dinner.”
“Dinner with a side of Bella.” He nipped at her neck and growled. “That’s quite an offer.”
She chuckled. “It’ll have to be a little later, though. I have two clients coming in for makeup appointments since I missed yesterday. Luckily, one will be in and out in fifteen minutes.”
“That’s fine. I’ll have some time to get my workout in.”
“You do that, Stud.” Smiling mischievously, she slid her hand down his chiseled abs and veered off to the wound above his hip. “I’m glad you’re back in high school again instead of doing deep cover.”
He smiled, but he didn’t want to talk about this—not when he was still in the game. “You know, we never got around to sandwiches.”
“We should eat.”
“And then I need to get home.”
“Okay.”
Neither of them moved.
Bella let her hand wander lower. “We could have sex again, eat after, and then you could go home.”
“I like the way you think.”
They laughed and rolled across the bed.
~~~~
Reed let himself into his house sometime after two. Sandwiches hadn’t turned out to be much of a priority for him and Bella after all. He smiled, thinking of how they’d gotten out of bed several times to make their dinner, only to fall back to the mattress and exhaust one another all over again. It had been damn tempting to shut off her bedroom light and snuggle up for the last few hours of the morning, but he’d pulled on his cold, damp clothes and headed next door instead, settling for the torturous smell of Bella on his skin and her taste on his tongue rather than the soft, warm woman tucked under her covers.
Yawning, he switched on the small lamp on the desk and glanced at his computer, feeling the tension tightening his shoulders as he picked up his cell phone. The simple pleasure of being wrapped up in Bella vanished as reality rushed back to greet him. He wasted no time dialing despite the early hour: five a.m. in New York, so Joey wouldn’t be able to bitch all that much.
“Hello?”
“It’s Reed,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“What the hell? We’ve gotta talk about this calling in the fucking early morning hours—”
“I’m out,” he interrupted, needing to get this over with.
“What?”
“I said I’m out. I’m not doing this to Bella anymore.”
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. What about Nicoli Caparelli?”
Reed began pacing, the gritty edge of Joey’s shocked disappointment not lost on him. He’d expected no less, but actually hearing it ate at him as much as lying to Bella did. “I don’t care.”
“What about Bensonhurst or the fact that Alfeo will be out running the streets again in just a few weeks?”
“That’s not my problem anymore. That’s why I gave up my badge.”
The line hung heavy with silence.
“You’re sleeping with her. You’re literally in bed with the mafia.”
Rage flooded his veins at the invasion of his privacy. What he had with Bella was supposed to be his alone—just theirs. “That’s none of your business.”
“It is when your dick’s doing your thinking. What the hell happened to Mad Dog McKinley?”
“He died the night we almost did.”
Joey laughed humorlessly in his ear.
“I don’t want to be that guy anymore, Joe.” He sat down, wearily resting his forehead in his hand. “I want what I have here. I want her. For the first time in my life, I’m doing what’s right for me. Bella’s right for me. I’m not interested in living for revenge or to avenge.”
“Well, I guess that’s that. She still goin’ to Bensonhurst?”
He felt his nostrils flare as he clenched his jaw. “That’s the plan. Luisa’s her friend.”
“Right. You go ahead and keep telling yourself that.”
“Damn it, Joe, I want you to be happy for me.”
“You know I want nothing less than your happiness. You’re like my brother.”
“So let’s leave it there.”
“This isn’t about me, boss. It’s about you. Are you gonna be able to be happy knowing what you know? You don’t have her whole story—not even close. I know you, Reed, better than anyone else on this fuckin’ planet. You’re gonna wonder about her and her father. You’ll try to let it go, but you’ll pick at it until it festers and eats you up. I don’t see how that won’t come between the two of you.”
He gained his feet, wanting to deny everything Joey was saying. “She didn’t kill my family.”
“No, but her family did. You’re walking dangerous ground. Take a few days and think on what I’ve said, then give me a call.” He hung up.
“Damn it.” He threw down his phone, afraid that Joey was right. No matter how much he cared for Bella or how happy he was when they were together, the past and unanswered questions would always be in his face.
Chapter Eighteen
Bella glanced at the clock as she packaged up the leftover chicken, wild rice, and roasted veggies she’d made for herself and Dad’s simple dinner. It was almost eight thirty, more than time for her to be heading home. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay while I’m gone?”
Dad looked up from his spot at the small kitchen table, dressed in sweatpants and an old grease-stained T-shirt. “Bella, I’m a grown man.”
But he was sick—stage four, the oncologist from the children’s hospital had confirmed for her today. It had been a week since Dad’s news shattered her world. For days, she’d been waiting with a sense of false hope while Dr. Jahensen went through Dad’s files. Finally, on her way up to Reseda this evening, he’d gotten back to her with his opinion. Now that the diagnosis was undeniable, she was struggling with the idea that their only course of action was keeping Dad comfortable and enjoying the time they had left together.
On Sunday, she’d taken a few hours to come visit him while Reed went to the gym. Tonight, she was doing the same. Every time she knocked on Dad’s door, she couldn’t help but notice that he seemed a little thinner and weaker. She glanced at the vegetable juice in his hand instead of the soda—a step in the right direction, but her small interventions were hardly enough.
Dr. Jahensen had lifted her spirits some when he told her Dad’s labs looked great considering his prognosis. It was highly unlikely he would get bet
ter, but he was certainly holding his own. She had every intention of keeping Dad as healthy as possible for as long as she could. “I know. I just don’t like leaving you when you need me the most.”
“You’ll be gone for four days. Your business is important. I’m not going to stand in the way of your career.”
“I’m not traveling for my business,” she said as she washed the last of the dishes in hot, soapy water. “I’m helping a friend with hers.”
“New Hampshire’s not that far away.”
She sent him a wry smile, drying the glass bowl and putting it in the cupboard. “It’s across the country. And I’m going to New York.”
Dad moved to take a sip of his beet, carrot, and kale concoction and set it back down. “I thought you said New Hampshire.”
“Nope. My friend lives in Brooklyn.”
Dad stood in a rush. “Brooklyn?”
Bella stared at him, blinking her surprise. “Yeah, Dad. Brooklyn. We talked about this on Sunday.”
“You never said anything about Brooklyn. I don’t want you going.”
She gaped, shaking her head, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. “What?”
“You should stay here.”
She frowned, growing afraid that something hadn’t gone quite as well as he’d let on at his latest checkup earlier this afternoon. “I thought you said you were feeling fine.”
“I am. I just—the city can be a dangerous place.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little. “Dad, I live in Los Angeles and spent years in Vegas before that. I know how to take care of myself.”
“Brooklyn is different.”
She raised her eyebrow as she got back to work, wringing out the dishcloth and wiping the counters. “You’re an expert on Brooklyn?”
“I liked the idea of my daughter in New Hampshire—where there’s trees and mountains—little towns and stuff. That’s all.”
“Well, maybe I’ll get a chance to visit someday.” She grabbed the Tupperware and put it in the fridge. “If you need me to stay because of your health, I will. But I’m going if you’re just being an overprotective father.”
He sat down again. “I just—I want you to call me every day.”
“Of course.” She walked over and kissed the top of his head. “I was planning on it anyway.”
“You take care of yourself. Be careful. Keep to yourself—don’t be telling people your life story. Less is more.”
She laughed. “I don’t typically talk about my past—mostly about work or Lucy. I’m going to help my friend, go to a grand opening party, and come home.” She pulled a piece of paper from her purse. “I’m leaving this number with you. If you need anything, I want you to call him. Tell him you’re my father and he’ll give you a hand.” She hesitated and handed over the sheet.
“Reed McKinley.” Dad looked at her. “And who’s Reed McKinley?”
She smiled sadly as the protective light came into his eyes. Was this what it would have been like if Dad had been around when she’d been a teenager? She’d debated long and hard when she wrote down Reed’s number, but she couldn’t leave without knowing Dad would have someone to contact if he needed help. There would be plenty of explaining to do when she got home, but it would be worth it to know Dad wouldn’t be alone if there was another emergency. “He’s my friend.”
“Friend?”
“We’ve been dating, I guess.”
“How do you not know if you’re dating?”
Another small smile touched her lips, and she rolled her eyes at his third-degree. “He’s my neighbor. We hang out a lot. Things sort of evolved from there.”
“Is he good to you?”
She grinned as she thought of the last five days—since they changed everything: long walks on the beach, cozy candlelight dinners on her back porch, sexy evenings in bed where they drove each other crazy more than they slept. “He’s very good to me.”
“Is he the one?”
She swallowed, alarmed when her first instinct wasn’t to dismiss the idea as ludicrous. “I don’t know.”
“You didn’t say no.”
She kissed him again. “I need to get home. My flight leaves early tomorrow. I’m glad you’re drinking your juice.”
He shrugged. “It’s not too bad. I have more energy.”
She beamed. “That’s great. I want you to try to eat the food I’ve put away for you for the next few days.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He stood and pulled her close in a long hug. “You be careful, Isabella.”
“I will.” She held on to him. “I love you.”
“I love you too. I want a call every day.” He drew her away and held her gaze. “Every day.”
“Promise,” she said with a decisive nod.
“Go see this Reed McKinley.”
“Call him if you need anything.”
He grumbled his agreement.
“Bye, Daddy.” She blew him a kiss at the door and left, content that Dad was hanging in there and that she was going home to Reed.
She got behind the wheel and drove toward the 405, nibbling her lip and worrying some, knowing he would be waiting for her by now. She and Reed were officially spending every free moment they had together. This would be the second time in less than a week that she would walk through her front door stinking like cigarette smoke—like the day he’d helped her shower and change.
On Sunday, he’d given her a hug and asked her where she’d been. She’d simply told him she’d had some things to do. Reed wasn’t a fool. She saw the questions in his eyes, but he hadn’t asked her anything further. Eventually, she would have to tell him her story, but she didn’t have to do it yet.
Not once since her ninth grade year had she voluntarily offered up any information about her family. How did one broach such a conversation? Reed, let’s sit down so I can tell you about my father who abandoned me days before my fifth birthday and my prostitute mother who was more interested in the men who paid her for sex and gave her expensive gifts than she’d been in raising her daughter.
Groaning, she pressed her hand to her stomach as the thought made her sick. Everything was going so well between them. She was fairly sure her confession wouldn’t change things…but she couldn’t be certain. Sooner rather than later, she was going to have to spill the beans, but for now she just wanted to pretend she was Isabella Colby from any other normal family. Nothing would be quite the same once he knew the truth.
~~~~
Reed lay on Bella’s couch, watching TV and petting Lucy while she rested her head on the cushion from her spot close by on the floor. He flipped through the channels and glanced at his watch—like he’d done several times over the last few minutes. It was getting late for a weeknight, especially when Bella had a plane to catch first thing in the morning. Flat tires and being stranded somewhere on the interstate had crossed his mind more than once over the last little while, but Bella was a capable, independent woman, and she carried a cell phone. He wasn’t about to turn into that guy who had to know where his girlfriend was at every minute of the day, particularly when his very responsible girlfriend had covered all her bases by telling him she was going to be home much later than usual.
Now, if she didn’t call in the next half hour or so, he might think about sending off a text to make sure she was okay. He was an ex-cop, after all. He couldn’t just ignore violent crime facts and statistics, specifically those pertaining to beautiful women out on their own well after dark. Bella didn’t even have her dog with her… The tension coiling in the back of his neck vanished, and he let loose a long breath when he heard her car pull in the driveway. “Sounds like your mom’s home.”
Lucy was already on her feet and her tail wagging as she hurried to the door.
Moments later, Bella stepped inside and grinned. “There’s my girl.” She set her purse on the entryway table and crouched down, hugging and giving Lucy a kiss as her puppy’s tail moved double-time. “Did you have fun with Reed?
” She gained her feet and looked at him, smiling. “Hi, handsome.”
Damn, she took his breath away. She’d added curls to her hair this morning. And no one wore a sundress and high-heeled sandals quite like Isabella Colby. He sat up and returned her smile. “Hi. You got some of that for me?” Winking, he opened his arms, welcoming her to come join him.
“I do, but let me go shower first.” She flashed him one of her best grins, but he didn’t miss the way her gaze momentarily left his as she swiped her hair behind her ear. “It’ll just take a second.”
“There’s no rush.” He stayed where he was, scrubbing his hands over his face as she hurried upstairs. Why did he already know she was keeping a wide berth because she reeked of cigarette smoke? Currently, he couldn’t smell her, but he had little doubt that she would stink if he pulled her close or that she’d been in Reseda for the last several hours. As soon as she’d rolled over in his arms this morning and mentioned she would be late tonight, he’d known where she would go. She’d avoided his gaze then too.
It was unfortunate he couldn’t pretend that something about this entire situation wasn’t quite on the up and up. It was a damn shame he was a trained fucking lie detector, because he wanted nothing more than to move on with Bella in ignorant bliss instead of questioning why she went to visit her father hours before her plane left for New York. And now he sounded like Joey. “Son of a bitch,” he said wearily, rubbing at his jaw again.
The last five days had been perfect, everything he never thought he could have or knew he wanted. Bella was warm and sweet—even more so now that they were closely connected. He’d been lost in her, savoring the gift of true intimacy, reveling in the fact that Bella had stripped herself bare in every way that mattered. If only he could give Bella back everything she was giving him, but he was afraid he would never be able to let his guard down—at least, not when she felt the need to keep her father a secret. Why would she keep Vincent Pescoe a secret if there was nothing to hide?
“You’re gonna wonder about her and her father. You’ll try to let it go, but you’ll pick at it until it festers and eats you up.”
Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series Page 21
