Don't Walk Away
Page 19
He raised a brow. “Someday I’ll catch you in a moment of weakness, and you’ll say yes.”
“Never gonna happen,” she responded brightly. “But now that we have that out of the way, how about you grab me a rifle so I can do some serious shooting? Semi-automatic.”
She watched him walk off, smiling as he fielded questions from the few braver guys who had snuck past her and were now pumping Marcus for information. The yahoos she’d scared off had returned to their targets, and she checked out their skills with moderate interest. Analyzing their stances, assessing their hand positions.
The only one of them who could shoot was using his left hand, the side of his face barely visible in profile. She glanced for a moment at the firm forearms and massive biceps he was rocking, but ended up distracted by the accurate holes showing up on his target, clustered nearly as close as hers.
Hmmm, now that was sexy. She hated to admit how turned on she got watching a skilled marksman at work. She was tempted to saunter in his direction and make his day. Hell, she wasn’t celibate because she wasn’t interested. It just took a lot for her to find a guy that did it for her.
Left-handed Luke had already met her first qualification—he was moderately good with his hands.
Only problem was taking that first step. For all her chutzpah, she wasn’t a one-night-stand kinda gal, and it was always a pain in the butt to put energy into a relationship and then discover in the end the bastard couldn’t handle her.
Did she try, or should she walk away again?
Then her shooter lowered his gun and turned to face her as if he’d known she’d been watching the entire time. The stream of curses she bit back could’ve flash-boiled water.
Speaking of bastards…
Thankfully Marcus returned at that moment with the rifle. She repositioned her safety glasses and dropped into position before he’d finished his caution spiel. “Rack the target,” she commanded.
She lined up the sights, knowing full well the man who’d interrupted her DreamMakers job was staring. She knew his name—not only had Suz made sure of it, but Gillian had asked around after their disastrous little tête-à-tête.
Chase Jones wanted to know who he was messing with? She could oblige.
She squeezed the trigger in short pulses, one after the other, as she carefully moved the barrel a fraction of an inch. By the time she’d run out of ammunition Marcus had already begun to laugh. She slammed the safety home and stood, passing the rifle to Marcus as the target fluttered its way to where she stood.
“Damn, you’re good,” Marcus muttered in admiration. “Only you could shoot fuck off onto a target.”
Gillian unclipped the paper and brought it with her as she closed the distance between her and Chase. She was tall enough he didn’t hover over her, but he was so damn big she still felt dwarfed.
His gaze held nothing but admiration. “Gillian. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Chase.” She handed him the target, ducking around the barrier of his body and heading for the exit.
It took him a second before he laughed, a big booming sound that sent a shiver down her spine. The ghost of a smile played on her lips.
Okay, maybe he would be worth the effort. Maybe. Didn’t mean she was going to make it easy for him.
She grabbed her coat from her locker and headed outside into the cool night air, jingling her keys as she happily strolled to her car, imagining the expression on his face, the line of his firm jaw stretched in amusement. Yeah, Chase might be worth a tumble, or two.
When she drove out of the parking lot a moment later, she caught a glimpse of Chase leaving the building, the target she’d handed him dangling from one hand as he gazed at her car.
Their eyes locked as she drove past him, and the expression in his eyes told her she hadn’t fazed him at all.
If anything, she’d poked the sleeping bear.
Game on—she loved a challenge.
Epilogue
Why on earth did women need so much stuff? And what was wrong with him that the sight of all of Emma’s shit strewn around their new apartment made Dean grin from ear to ear?
“You want a glass of wine?” Emma poked her head through the kitchen door, swinging a bottle of chardonnay in the air.
Dean stopped what he was doing instantly, grateful for the perfect segue to his real plans for the evening. “Does this mean you’re done with work for the day and it’s time to play?”
She smiled. “I suppose.”
He wanted to rub his hands together. “I vote for naked Parcheesi.”
One brow lifted. “We don’t own Parcheesi.”
“Naked Monopoly?
“Nope.”
“Just naked works fine as well.”
Emma laughed. “Come pour me a drink and we’ll discuss naked terms…”
“A toast! That’s what we need.” He followed her, pulling the bottle from her fingers and clicking his tongue with disapproval. “No, no, no, this will never do. We need something a little more spectacular for our first official toast.”
She rolled her eyes, but waited as he reached into the fridge and pulled out the champagne he’d hidden there earlier.
She glanced at the bottle, a gasp of excitement escaping her lips. “Wait—don’t we need to break it against the counter or something?”
He stuttered to a stop in confusion. “Why the fuck would we do that?”
“That’s what you do to christen a new place,” she insisted, only this time he caught it, the flash of amusement in her eyes. She was totally jerking him around.
“A boat, Em! You do it to christen a new boat.”
Emma lost it, laughing. “Almost the same. We can see the ocean from the window.”
Dean chuckled as he loosened the wires on the cork and aimed toward the corner of the room. “Sure, babe. Come over here and I’ll check your rigging.”
The cork shot off with a pop, Emma cheering as he turned back and raised the bottle high in celebration.
A part of him still couldn’t believe she was actually here. In San Francisco. In his arms every night. He was so proud of her for cutting ties with Lorenzo. Dissolving a successful design label would have felt like a step backward for a lot of people, but Emma treated it as a step forward, a new adventure.
These past couple of weeks, Dean had loved walking into their new kitchen and finding her sketching in the breakfast nook, loved the excitement shining in her eyes whenever she spoke of her new designs. The racy Fire and Ice garments were a thing of the past—Emma was all about the girlie stuff now, and Dean’s heart squeezed each time she showed him one of her new creations. She planned on launching the new label in the summer, and as much as he wanted to help with the details, it turned out he knew shit-all about fashion. Luckily, Emma’s assistant Stella had relocated to the West Coast, and the two women seemed to have everything under control.
As for Emma’s former partner, the bastard had managed to buy his way out of a DUI charge, but Fire and Ice was no longer, and Lorenzo had been shunned by the fashion world. He’d tried calling Emma several times since the lawyers had sent him the dissolution papers. He’d even threatened to take it to court, but with Emma listed as the owner, he hadn’t had a leg to stand on, and last they’d heard he’d gone back to Italy.
“Anytime now…”
Dean jerked back to the present, to the gorgeous woman beside him, who was still holding her glass and waiting for his toast.
“Sorry. I was trying to come up with the perfect thing to say. Something about how proud I am of you, and how successful your new label will be, and how much I love you.”
Her lips twitched. “Um, well, you just said all those things, so…should we toast to that?”
“Yup.”
They clinked their glasses, and he waited for her to take a dainty sip of the sparkling liquid before grabbing her glass and setting it next to his on the granite counter. “No toast is official until it’s been sealed with a kiss,” he drawl
ed.
“Is that so? I’ve never heard that rule before.”
“Made it up right now.” He grinned. “Now come here and kiss me.”
She leaned in close, tipping her head as she licked her lips. Dean chuckled and touched her cheek, dipping his head to bring their lips together. First the kisses, followed by whatever else came to mind until the apartment was rocking. It was time for the best kind of celebration—a party for two.
Parties that were finally able to last longer than a minute or two. Fuck, she still made him lose control too quickly. He figured sometime after fifty years together he might actually be able to pull an all-nighter with her.
Then again—nah. They were always going to be on fire for each other.
A shrill whistle sounded from the balcony, and Dean and Emma jerked apart like two teens caught necking behind the bleachers. Outside the wall of windows of their fifth-floor apartment, Jack Hunter stood leering at them, a climbing rope dangling at his side.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dean vowed, stomping toward the sliding door.
“Don’t get blood on the hardwood,” Emma warned. “It might stain.”
He yanked open the door and the doorbell rang. While Emma rushed off to answer it, Dean glared menacingly at his partner. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Winning a bet. I’m the first to arrive, right?” Jack slipped past him into the living room, glancing around before throwing his fists in the air in triumph. “Score!”
“You’re not the first. I’ve been here for ages.” Parker’s voice, coming from the back of the apartment. He marched out of the guest bedroom, a bottle in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He took one look at Jack before shaking his head. “What? Empty hands? Dude, you didn’t just lose, you lost like a pathetic pansy-ass pussy.”
Dean took a deep breath and fought for calm. More noise and excitement carried from the front door, where a crowd of people was pouring into the apartment, bottles and bags full of delicious scents in hand. “Did we get our dates mixed up? Is this invade-Dean-and-Emma’s-place day and no one told us?”
Jack smacked him on the shoulder. “Didn’t you check your e-mail? Pepper thought you needed a housewarming party.”
Dean didn’t know why he’d bothered asking. Of course it was Pepper’s idea.
“Oooh! I love what you’ve done with the place,” Pepper squealed as she stepped into the living room. She smacked a kiss on Emma’s cheek before wandering over to do the same to Dean.
Suz came up next, green eyes sparkling as she handed him a small gift bag overflowing with tissue paper. She winked. “Make sure you open this one later, Colter. It’s for the after-party I’m sure you two are going to have.”
“We were about to have that after-party now,” he grumbled. “Before all these unwanted intruders showed up.”
But he was smiling, because truth was, he loved each and every one of his friends, and he was thrilled they’d all welcomed Emma into the fold so easily. They greeted him one by one, giving him kisses or macho backslaps, and they showered Emma with the same attention. Lynn. Colby. Gillian. Even Didi and her husband Teddy had shown up to welcome Dean and Emma to their new home.
Someone turned on the television and loaded the Internet radio channel, and music rolled from the speakers as champagne was poured and laughter rang around them.
Emma slipped up beside him and brought her lips close to his ear. “Confession: I knew about the party,” she whispered.
“Traitor,” he whispered back.
“Hey, I was pretty sure you’d be all grumpy about it if I told you. Figured I’d leave it as a surprise.”
“You guessed right,” he mumbled against her neck, momentarily distracted by the warmth of her in his arms. “You want to go hide in the bathroom and fool around?”
“Nope. I want to celebrate with our friends.”
Dean let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, but you owe me a hand job.”
She snorted softly.
“And you have to wear that new outfit you put together. The one with the polka dots.”
“Schoolgirl fantasy, much?”
“You-girl fantasy,” Dean insisted. “You and only you, babe. Now and forever.”
He’d forgotten they were surrounded by assholes, or maybe his volume got louder at the end, because a collective awwww went up around them. Emma flushed and looked slightly embarrassed, but the way she held on tight as he turned them to face the gathering told him everything he needed to know.
He finally had everything he’d ever wanted in life. Friends, family, and Emma.
And that made him the luckiest man in the world.
DreamMakers
Thanks for reading. We hope you enjoyed Dean and Emma’s story.
You’ve just read the third book in the DreamMakers series. The full list of books so far is: All Fired Up, Love Is A Battlefield, Don’t Walk Away.
We have plans for MORE! We just don't have dates yet, so if you want to receive an update on when book 4 is ready, make sure you sign up for our newsletters. Vivian Arend | Elle Kennedy
Book 4 will feature... Gillian!
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~~Featured Series From Elle Kennedy~~
Out of Uniform
Heat of the Moment | Heat of Passion | Heat of the Storm | Heat It Up | Heat of the Night | The Heat Is On | Feeling Hot | Getting Hotter | Hotter Than Ever | A Little Bit of Hot (free short story) | As Hot As It Gets
Killer Instincts
Midnight Rescue | Midnight Alias | Midnight Games | Midnight Pursuits | After Midnight | Midnight Action | Midnight Captive
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Welcome to Paradise | Take Me Home Tonight | Born To Be Wild | Since You’ve Been Gone
~~** BIO **~~
A RITA-award nominated author, Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a B.A. in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager.
Elle currently publishes with Signet Eclipse, Harlequin Romantic Suspense, and Samhain Publishing. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting!
~~Featured Series From Vivian Arend~~
Thompson & Sons
Red-hot novella length contemporary romance
Rocky Ride, One Sexy Ride, Let It Ride, A Wild Ride
Six Pack Ranch
Red-hot novel length contemporary western romance
Rocky Mountain Heat, Rocky Mountain Haven, Rocky Mountain Desire, Rocky Mountain Angel, Rocky Mountain Rebel, Rocky Mountain Freedom, Rocky Mountain Romance, Rocky Retreat
Granite Lake Wolves
Sexy light-hearted novella length paranormal romance
Wolf Signs, Wolf Flight, Wolf Games, Wolf Tracks, Wolf Line, Wolf Nip
~~ BIO ~~
Vivian Arend has been around North America, through parts of Europe, and into Central and South America, often with no running water. When challenged to write a book, she gave it a shot, and discovered creating worlds to play in was nearly as addictive as traveling the real one.
Now a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of both contemporary and paranormal stories, Vivian continues to explore, write and otherwise keep herself well entertained.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
Don't Walk Away
Co
pyright © 2015 by Vivian Arend & Elle Kennedy
ISBN: 978-1-941456-06-4
Edited by Jennifer Miller
Cover by Bree Bridges
Proofed by Sharon Muha
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations.
First electronic publication: April 2015
www.vivianarend.com
www.ellekennedy.com
Contents
Title
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Colby
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Gillian
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Suz
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Colby
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Suz
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Gillian
Epilogue
Coming Soon
About Elle