by Evie Monroe
As I turned onto Route One, my phone in the cup holder lit up. I craned my neck to see a message from Zain.
I picked up the phone and read: Midnight, right?
I shoved the phone down into the cup holder. Zain never listened that well. As I was shoving it down, the phone lit up again, and there was another message, from Hart.
I picked up the phone and read that text: Definitely a blowout going on over at their clubhouse. Just went by.
Fuck. My pulse pounded. I wanted to ask him if he saw any sign of Slade there, but I couldn’t. I was driving, and I got the feeling Grace was sitting beside me, quietly giving me the stink-eye. I glanced over at her, and sure enough . . . she was.
When my phone lit up again and I reached for it, she said, “You know, you do have Ella in the back seat so you might want to, I don’t know, keep your eyes on the road?”
I scowled at her and raked my hair out of my eyes. “Hey, baby, it’s all good.”
“I really don’t want to end this night swimming in the Pacific,” she muttered, then hissed, “Keep that fucking phone out of your hand.”
I saluted her in response, but I wasn’t in the mood to get into one of our good old-fashioned screaming matches.
We drove in silence for the next ten minutes, though every ten seconds, my phone lit up with a new message. I was the commander of this assault, and I’d gone AWOL. I knew the guys were probably going batshit crazy, like they always did without me. I sucked in a breath when we got just outside of Santa Barbara and I pulled into a hotel overlooking the ocean.
“Good?” I asked her, pulling into the roundabout and cutting the engine.
She looked up at it and wrinkled her nose. I think anything I picked wouldn’t be good enough for her, just because I’d picked it.
“Well, it’s not the Best Western, but . . .” I said with a chuckle.
A valet jogged up to us and opened the front doors. “Hello and welcome to . . .” The guy looked me over and cleared his throat. “The Vanderbilt Ocean Resort. Checking in?”
I nodded and handed him the keys. “She and the kid are. But I got the bags. Just park this somewhere for me.”
I reached into the trunk and pulled out her suitcase. The valet, in his bow tie and jacket, looked us over like he wasn’t sure if we were lost. Grace was in these little short-shorts that probably were forbidden in a place like this, and my body was still covered in a thin layer of grime from the explosion, not to mention that I wasn’t this place’s normal clientele. A man and a woman walked by in evening dress, gaping at us, as the valet asked, “Do you have reservations?”
I shook my head, reached into my wallet, and pulled out a hundred, which I handed to him. “Take good care of it. Okay?”
He nodded eagerly. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
I put the suitcase on the curb as Grace finished unsnapping Ella from her car seat. She was awake now, her head whipping around to take in the new sights.
Grace looked around as we went through the revolving doors, her eyes wide. “Um, Cullen?” she asked, pulling on the sleeve of my T-shirt. “I would’ve been fine with a motel on the side of the road.”
I gave her a look. “There’s no way.”
She nodded, conceding that that idea of hers had been a fucking terrible one, and followed me across the vast lobby, past crystal chandeliers, over shining marble floors and deep oriental rugs, with clusters of expensive leather sofas and tufted chairs arranged in tight circles. When we got to the check-in desk, the woman there raised an eyebrow at us. “Can I help you?”
I approached the desk and drummed my fingers on the counter. “Yeah. Checking in.” I looked at Grace, trying to see inside her mind to what she was thinking, then at Ella. “You have a crib?”
The woman regarded me. “We do have playpens and cribs available. But first I need some information. Do you have a reservation?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
She pressed her lips together and typed something into her computer. “I’m sorry, sir. But we’re fully booked for the night. It is a Friday.”
Shit. “Seriously? You don’t . . . you know. Hold rooms back or anything? For like, celebrities?”
She raised an eyebrow. She’d probably be hot, if she wasn’t so stuck up. “I’m sorry.”
I gave her my most charming smile. “So you’re telling me that if the president of the United States showed up at this place, you would turn him away?”
She smiled. “Well . . . no. We have our Warner Bungalow suite, actually. It’s the owner’s private suite. It’s two-thousand square feet, comes with a private entrance and private twenty-foot heated pool hot tub, private balcony, private patio with fountain.”
I held a hand up. “That’s it. We’ll take it.”
Her smile faltered when she realized I was serious. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Why not? Is it currently occupied?”
She shook her head. “Well, no, but—”
“Then what’s the problem? The woman’s really tired. She’d like to get some shut-eye.”
She drew in a breath and let it go in a rush. “I’m sorry, sir. But the Warner Bungalow is five-thousand dollars a night.”
“Don’t be sorry, baby,” I said to her. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wad of cash and counted out five thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills, which I pushed over to her. “This’ll cover it?”
She nodded, astonished. Then she quickly typed something into her little computer. “If you’ll wait just a moment, I’ll have a porter come to escort you to your room and set up your bags. He’ll show you around the suite and deliver a complimentary bottle of champagne.” She pushed the key over to us.
“No thanks. We can find the room on our own. We’re not into the bubbly. Just tell me where it is.”
The receptionist gave me a wide-eyed stare and said, “You can take that corridor behind you to the room. It’s on the beach side.” From her tone of voice, I think she was glad to be rid of us.
“Great,” I said, memorizing the directions. “Can you have a crib delivered?” I scooped up the keys and cocked an imaginary hat at her. “Thanks a lot.”
When I turned around, Grace was staring at me with a look that could kill. “What?” I said, striding into the corridor.
“Were you flirting with that woman? Really? While I was right there?”
I grinned at her. “Baby. You always said I need to be a little friendlier to strangers. That’s what I’m doing. What, are you jealous?”
She screwed up her face. “Of what?”
I patted my chest proudly. “That chick was totally into me.”
She scoffed. “Please.”
“Hey. Think what you want. Got us the last room in the place, didn’t it?”
She scowled at me. “Yeah, I think your thousands of dollars might have gotten you that room. Not your charm or that hot bod of yours.”
I shrugged. “What difference does it make? It’s not like I was going to do her. I have you and the kid. That doesn’t exactly make me a chick magnet.”
Her jaw dropped in disgust.
“Don’t give me that, sweetheart. You’re not sleeping in a fleabag motel room on the side of the road. You might want to thank me?”
She rolled her eyes and hefted Ella higher on her hip as we went outside, to a path trailing down to the beach. I followed the darkened corridor of jungle plants to the bungalow at the very end of the path and inserted the key card into the slot.
I pushed open the door and stepped aside to let her go in.
Grace walked in and scanned the room, a giant great room with modern furnishings. If she was impressed, you wouldn’t know it. She looked more annoyed than anything else. Ella started to squirm in her arms so she set her on the ground and let out a big sigh.
“What, princess? This ain’t good enough for you and your superior tastes?” I said.
“It’s fine. I just wish you wouldn’t do that. Throwing your money aro
und like some kind of pimp. It’s embarrassing,” she muttered. “And it makes everyone uncomfortable. Including me.”
I stared at her. “Excuse me? You have a problem with me?”
“Yeah. You heard me. They probably look at you, wondering what bank you knocked over,” she says with a flip of her hair, revealing the bird tattoo she’d gotten years ago. “And it doesn’t impress me, that’s for sure. You look like a thug who has too much money he doesn’t know what to do with.”
“Baby, I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. And I’ve given up trying to impress you.” I strode through the giant bungalow, which was more like a house, checking things out. The place was decent. I’d been here before, with my dad, long ago. Someone like Grace, who didn’t grow up with this shit, should’ve been impressed.
But leave it to Grace to walk around the place, looking like she hated it all.
Someone knocked on the door, and I went to open it. It was housekeeping, delivering the crib. I thanked and tipped them, then rolled it in. “Where do you want it?”
She sighed. Then she pointed to a corner of the living room. “I guess . . . put it over there.”
I did as she said, then checked my phone. I had no less than twelve text messages from different guys. I needed to be at the meeting. I quickly started to thumb in a message to Nix to tell him that I’d be late when I looked up and saw Grace gazing at me.
Not with anything close to appreciation. No, she still looked pissed. “Let me guess. Cobras business. Morning, noon, and night?”
I let out a huff of air. What did she expect from me? Our club had just taken an ass-whipping like we’d never seen. I should’ve been out doing damage control. Instead, I’d taken time out of my Cobras business to get her someplace safe. I’d holed her up in a nice piece of real estate on the fucking beach with a freaking heated pool and a hot tub. And now she was giving me shit because I was trying to send a couple messages to my guys to tell them I’d be a while?
Un-fucking-believable.
I opened my mouth to put her in her place when she tossed her hair again, baring that tattoo of the birds. And suddenly it occurred to me what really had me on edge.
She’d been trying to run away again. In that cab. Without a note or a message to me, to tell me where she was going.
And she could easily do it, even now, the second I got my ass back to Aveline Bay. Tomorrow, she could get an Uber and disappear for another two years. For a lifetime. I didn’t know.
So I bit my tongue. “Baby,” I said. “Why don’t you get yourself to bed?”
She snorted. “Because I have a baby. Remember? Ella?”
I watched as she set Ella down on the couch, changed her diaper, and pushed her legs and arms into a one-piece jumper thing. Then she set up the blankets in the bottom of the crib and lifted her up and into the crib. “I hope she can sleep here,” she said, gnawing on her lip. “She liked the big girl bed at your house.”
But Ella road tested the crib, jumping a few times, before she dropped down and closed her eyes. She gnawed on her little thumb, and before Grace had covered her with a blanket, she was out like a light.
Then Grace went into the big bedroom, ignoring the super-size bed and made a dash for the bathroom and showered. I sat on the couch overlooking the ocean and thought about the fucked up war with the Fury. Fuck. Three weeks ago I wouldn’t have had a second thought about fucking them up.
I’m the goddamn president of the Cobras, and I’m having second thoughts? I need to get my goddamn head on straight.
When I heard the bathroom door open I tiptoed into the bedroom so I wouldn’t wake Ella, maybe I was getting good at this dad thing. Grace came out and had changed into a pair of boxers and tank top and had her wet hair wrapped in a towel.
“Now, are you going to sleep?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “I’m a little wired. I think I’ll go out to the patio and get some air.” She looked at me. “Is that okay? You don’t think they’ll . . .”
“Nah,” I said, thinking of the so-called party at the Fury’s clubhouse. I felt confident she’d be safe for tonight. What had worried me most was getting her out of town, unseen. Now that she was out, I felt good about it. Like they were in the right place.
What I didn’t feel so good about was my club. Prepping for war without me. All kinds of things could happen if I wasn’t there to back them up. And if anything bad went down, I’d have no one to blame but myself.
I needed something to calm my nerves. I went to the mini bar across from the bed and grabbed all the little bottles of Jack I could find. I downed the first one, tossed it in the trash, and followed her outside, unscrewing the top of the second one.
It was a nice patio, with smooth stone pavers, lounge chairs and a hot tub. An entrance from the living room and the bedroom. A fountain burbled in the center. She walked around the high-walled perimeter, bordered with vegetation, taking it all in, then reached down at the side of the pool and felt the water. The clouds of earlier had pushed off and now the night was kind of sultry. This private patio . . . and Grace, wearing her barely-there clothes, her nipples visible through her tight-white T, would’ve been a grand opportunity, any other day of my life.
Right now, it was hell. I needed to get out. I polished off the second bottle of Jack, sat down on a chair outside and drummed my fingers on my knees.
After her little tour of the patio, she eyed the empty bottle, then me, suspiciously. “If you have somewhere to be, don’t let me keep you.”
Right. There was nothing keeping me. I needed to get back.
But there was something keeping me. I wanted to keep her with me at all times. I didn’t want to lose her again.
“You’ll stay here? In this room?” I asked her, standing. “Until I get back?”
She nodded, still surveying the patio.
That wasn’t enough for me. “Will you?”
“Yes,” she said absently, pushing a lounge chair closer to the pool. I couldn’t be sure she was listening to me.
I said, louder: “Hey. Will you?”
“For the last time, yes!” she snapped, tossing her ponytail. “Damn. Thanks, warden. I told you I’d be here, and I’ll be here. Fuck! It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”
Anger bubbled inside me. How the fuck could she blame me for asking, when she’d done it before? “That never stopped you before,” I ground out.
She scowled at me. “Please just leave. Maybe then I can have some peace.”
“Peace? Really? You’re a piece of work,” I growled at her.
She came up close to me and wagged a finger in my face. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had to leave Aveline Bay in the first place!”
“Yeah? Well, if it weren’t for you, maybe I wouldn’t be on the border of complete insanity, baby,” I muttered. I checked the pockets for the keys to the car, until I remembered I’d left them with the valet. I turned to go. “I’m leaving.”
“Good,” she muttered, not looking at me. She was staring at the pool.
I clenched my fists, then gave her double middle fingers behind her back.
I turned to go. As I slid the patio door opened, I looked back and watched as she reached for the bottom hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head, baring her back.
I stood there, staring as she reached for the waistband of her boxers. “What the fuck are you doing?”
She peered over her shoulder at me. “Oh, goody. You’re still here,” she mumbled, mock-excited. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Swimming, partly. But mostly, teasing the shit out of me, getting my cock as hard as a rock. I don’t think she meant to do it. I think she really wanted me gone. But if that was what she wanted, this was definitely the wrong way to go about it.
I stood there, my hand on the door, unable to tear my eyes away. “You going in there like that?”
She nodded, pulled on the waistband, and let her shorts fall in a puddle at her feet. “D
on’t own a bathing suit. And the water is so nice. I just wanted to swim a little.”
I watched her walk toward the pool, dipping her toe in. Mesmerized. I knew there was something I was trying to get back to in Aveline Bay, something important, an appointment or some shit like that, but I lost all focus when she slipped beneath the water and came out, pushing her wet hair back from her face, all dark now with water, and looked over at me.
Her words told me to get the fuck out, but her eyes told me to stay.
Fuck it. Fuck me. Fuck everything.
I closed the patio door and moved toward her. “I thought you had somewhere to be?” she asked, looking up at me.
I shook my head slowly.
She shrugged, then pushed back in a backstroke, her perfect tits bobbing on the surface of the water. Her eyes never leaving mine. I watched her, doing long, slow strokes, every movement playing my cock like a guitar. And she knew it. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.
With a glance in my direction, she climbed out of the pool, went to the hot tub, turned it on, and slipped into the bubbling water. Then she leaned back, closed her eyes, and said, “If you’re not joining me, then leave.”
I didn’t have to be asked twice. I walked to the edge of the hot tub, leaned over her, and captured her mouth in mine.
And the second my mouth met hers, I knew it.
There was no way I could bring myself to leave her again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Grace
There was always something so primal, so savage about the way Cullen kissed. At first, he just licked at the seam of my lips, priming me for what was to come. He nibbled on my lips, just slightly, getting a taste.
And then he dove in to taste me, all-in. Wet. Hot. Hungrier than I’d ever seen him.
He explored my mouth with his tongue as he did everything, demanding, and sexy as hell. He tasted of Jack and cigarettes, but most of all, like him, a taste I couldn’t get enough of. He groaned, pushing deeper. The wet heat of his mouth was enough to unravel me completely.
