Twist of Fate: A Heartbreaker Bay Novella

by Jill Shalvis

  She lifted her gaze and found his in the mirror.

  His brows rose. “You were just staring at my ass.”

  Since there was amusement in his gaze and tone, and since she’d been caught ogling, there was no sense in playing coy. She shrugged. “So?”

  His smile came out to play. “Like what you see?”

  He was teasing her, and that easygoing side of him was the one she’d once fallen for. “I think we can all agree,” she said to the tailor, “this is the suit.”

  “I’ll make the adjustments,” the tailor said with a nod. Removing the measuring tape from around his neck, he stepped close to Diego.

  Diego slid him a look that had the poor tailor swallowing hard as he crouched low to measure for the hem.

  Daisy shook her head at Diego.

  Over the tailor’s head, he grinned. Grinned. Good Lord. He was in flirt mode, lighting up her world like he used to.

  The tailor was still crouched in front of Diego, a few pins in his mouth, eyes narrowed in concentration as he fiddled with the fit of the pants.

  All while Daisy’s gaze was held prisoner by Diego’s.

  “You never answered the question,” he said, tone casual, eyes not at all relaxed.

  Did she like what she saw?

  She waited until the tailor moved away so that Diego could get out of the suit.

  But he didn’t move. He was waiting for an answer.

  “You know I do,” she said quietly. “Just as I know you like what you see.”

  His smile was real now. “I definitely do. You grew up real nice, Princess. I especially like the new…”

  He paused, and she narrowed her eyes. If he said boobs or butt—which were all hers by the way—she was going to have to slug him.

  “Confidence.” He cocked his head and studied her. “I think that’s my favorite part.”

  And while she was still gaping at him, he turned and walked into the dressing room.

  When he came out in his street clothes a few minutes later, he pulled out a credit card for the tailor and looked at Daisy. “I need dinner after that nightmare.”

  The tailor looked startled at the nightmare part but finished ringing them up and then let them go with what appeared to be relief.

  Diego looked at Daisy.

  “I could eat,” she admitted.

  They got back onto the bike. Diego handled the evening traffic with ease, and she relaxed against him, letting the long day catch up to her. She was lost in the sensation of his easy strength and warmth and the rumble of the engine when she realized that he’d parked.

  In front of Weener Works on the pier.

  Weener Works created the best and most original gourmet hotdogs on the planet, and…it’d been their choice of place to eat back when they were together. They had memories here. They’d played pinball here. They’d competed at all the games, in fact, and she’d held her own. They’d made out in the back booth. He’d asked her to be his girlfriend at the front window table…

  “Problem?” he asked when she hesitated to get off the bike.

  “Nope.” She ordered double cheese fries and a loaded hotdog.

  He doubled the order and added a large chocolate milkshake, to go. It was crowded, so while they waited to be served, they hit pinball.

  She won.

  He took it good-naturedly, laughing and giving her an easy, one-armed celebratory hug that hit her like a bolt of lightning. She froze.

  So did he.

  They stared at each other, and before she could get control of her limbs, both of her arms slid around his broad shoulders. She let herself have the moment of victory, pushing close in a full-body hug. Her face pressed into his throat, his several-day-old scruff scraping deliciously against her skin. He smelled like Heaven.

  When she pulled back, he was looking into her face like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her.

  He could join her club.

  When their food came, they did what they’d always done. They walked down the pier and found a quiet place to eat while looking out over the water.

  It was like a security blanket, the bay sprawled out in front of her, eating her favorite takeout, and sitting next to the one person who’d always gotten her. “I haven’t been here since…” She tried to remember and then closed her mouth. The last time she’d been at the pier had been with him.

  “Me either,” he said quietly.

  She looked at him. “Do you miss it here?”

  Holding her gaze, he shook his head. “I didn’t let myself think about it. When I left, I…” He shrugged. “Left. Mentally and physically.”

  She nodded. She got that. She just wished it hadn’t happened like it did.

  She took her last bite and pushed away her basket, leaning back in satisfaction before realizing that he was watching her. “What?”

  He smiled. “Nothing.”

  That was a lie, so she looked down at herself. When Diego first picked her up, she’d been work-ready. Now, hours later, she’d shucked her blazer, the top few buttons of her blouse were undone, her hair was down, and…her face felt achy from all the smiling and laughing.

  When she looked up again, he was still watching her in that way he did, like he was both happy to be with her and surprised at feeling that way.

  “You lost the stick up your ass,” he said. “You let yourself relax around me. I like it.”

  She’d opened her mouth at the stick comment, but his next words disarmed her.

  “We’re still attracted to each other.”

  And he was still blunt as always. But Daisy saw no use denying it. “But we both know that physical chemistry, no matter how off the charts, isn’t what’s important.”

  “What is important?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Honesty. Communication. Real friendship.”

  “Are you saying we didn’t have that?” he asked.

  “I thought we did, but…” She shook her head. “At the end of the day, no, we didn’t have that.”

  “We didn’t even stay friends.”

  She laughed mirthlessly. “I didn’t want to be your friend. I wanted to run you over with a car.” Needing a distraction, she gathered up their trash. “So, you’re not staying at Rocco’s.”

  He let her change the subject with a small shake of his head. “Didn’t want to ruin anything for him, not this week.”

  She cocked her head and studied him. “You grew up.”

  He shrugged. “By trial and error, maybe. Mostly error. Like a shitload of error.” He smiled when she laughed again. “I’m staying on my boat.” Standing, he pulled her up and turned her to the railing. Moving in behind her, he pointed at the marina. “See that dock? Third one on the right?”

  “You always wanted to live on a boat,” she breathed, incredibly aware of his body behind hers, guarding it against the chilly wind.

  “I did.” He took his eyes off the water and looked down at her. “So. A wedding planner, huh?”

  “An event planner.”

  “It fits you,” he said. “You were always the one putting together all the parties and bonfires.”

  “And you’re working on boats instead of at the family business.”

  “You know I never wanted to carry on my dad’s legacy.”

  Daisy did know that. But Diego had been pressured. Big time. “I’d love to see your boat.”

  They got there in ten minutes. He helped her aboard and then moved ahead of her to give her the tour. At the bow, he helped her climb up to the upper deck, where they lay back to stare up at the gorgeous sky.

  “It’s been a while,” she murmured.

  He came up on an elbow and looked down at her and not up at the sky. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Too long of a while.”

  She slid her gaze to him, and at the look in his eyes, her entire body tingled with awareness and anticipation and desire. “Diego?” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s something else I want you to show me
,” she murmured and pulled him down over her.

  Chapter 5

  Diego braced his weight over Daisy, hands on either side of her face, which was turned up to his. The look in her eyes whipped the smoldering heat between them to a raging, zero-percent-contained wildfire.

  And maybe…maybe he still could’ve resisted if she hadn’t kissed him like he was literally her salvation. Maybe. But probably not. He’d never been able to deny her. “Daisy—”

  “Don’t say no,” she murmured and rocked that sweet body up against his, all those warm curves he’d dreamed about more than he cared to admit. Say no? He didn’t have that kind of willpower.

  So, he lowered himself to her and let their desire collide, chest to chest, hips to hips, one of his thighs nestled between hers. He had no idea what he thought he was doing. None. All he knew was that he had to have her. Even knowing this was a one-night thing, even knowing how much it would hurt afterwards, he didn’t care about anything but this, tonight, and he intended to make it last as long as possible. With that being his last rational thought, he dipped his head.

  Her mouth trembled open, but he went for the hollow of her throat instead, kissing the soft skin there, then tracing his tongue over the spot before making his way to the crook of her neck. When she moaned, he scraped his teeth over her, and she gasped out his name as he sucked the patch of flesh into his mouth, fighting a burning desire to mark her as his.

  But she wasn’t.

  So, instead, he gently kissed that same spot again, slipping a hand under her shirt, running his palm up her stomach to just below her breasts. With another whimper of wanting, she arched into his hand—a silent demand if he’d ever heard one. So, he obeyed and cupped her breast, his thumb gliding over the already hardened peak.

  She looked at him with those see-all gray eyes, and he couldn’t think beyond the fact that he needed to kiss her, which he did, deeply. She had her hands beneath his shirt now too, one over his heart, which was threatening to pound right out of his chest. Could she feel how out of control he was?

  But then she got into his jeans and wrapped her fingers around him, and if he’d thought he was in trouble before… “Daisy.” His voice was practically a growl. “Babe. I don’t think—”

  She stroked.

  He groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. “You sure?”

  She stroked him again.

  Okay, she was sure.

  She was trying to shove his jeans down and get his shirt off all at the same time when he again caught her hands and waited until her gaze met his.

  “I’m sure!” She sounded slightly crazy and maybe a little exasperated, and he smiled.

  “Now,” she demanded, arching into him. “Here.”

  “Now,” he agreed and rose to his feet. “But not here.”

  He took her below deck. They landed on his bed in a tangle of sheets. The only light came from the moonlight slanting in through the high, narrow windows, but it was enough to see.

  She looked as beautiful in his bed as he remembered. He wanted to go slow and easy, but his good intentions vanished once he stripped and crawled up the bed to assist her in doing the same. One kiss plus the glide of her arms and legs around him as if she were trying to claim him as her own, and he was lost. Lost in her. Lost in them.

  Just like always.

  He’d always thought if he ever got lucky enough to be with her again, that it might be awkward, like a first time. But it didn’t feel awkward or like a first time. It felt more like finding a missing piece.

  Like coming home.

  He slipped a hand between her thighs. Good thing they were already lying down, or he’d have probably dropped to his knees. In his dreams, he’d had to work hard to make her want him again.

  But she was hot and slick and ready.

  Her eyes were big but bold on his. “I want you,” she whispered. “I’ve…always wanted you.”

  It wasn’t a declaration of love, so why did it feel like one? Because his own feelings were far too close to the surface, dangerously close in fact. “I’ve always wanted you too, Daisy.”

  They reached for each other at the same time, the kiss intense and lingering. “Now,” she murmured. “Please, Diego.”

  Like he could deny that breathy plea. Shifting, he kissed and nibbled and licked, and then nibbled some more as he made his way down her body, absorbing her soft sighs, smiling against her skin when he slowed, and she writhed for more.

  “Don’t tease me…” she panted out.

  But that’s exactly what he was going to do. He kissed the inside of one thigh and then turned his head to kiss the other. She quivered. “Diego.”

  The breathless demand in her voice along with ten fingernails digging into his shoulders made him smile.

  “You’d laugh at me after getting me to this…this state?”

  He lowered his head and took a leisurely lick at her.

  Her eyes practically rolled back in her head as she rocked up into his mouth, her fingers fisted in his hair now. She was probably going to make him bald before he hit thirty-one, but he didn’t care. Instead, he did it again, and she cried out. So, he repeated it. Over and over until she came for him, her body damp and trembling as he reached for his nightstand and grabbed a condom.

  She sat up and insisted on rolling it on, which had him sweating because her hands felt so good. And the way she’d gotten up close and personal on her knees, the tip of her tongue out as she concentrated, he had to close his eyes to try and avoid finishing before he’d even barely gotten started.

  He slowly pushed into her, stopping immediately when her nails dug into his ass. He didn’t want to hurt her, he never wanted to hurt her.

  “Oh my God, don’t stop.” Her voice was soft and throaty. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “I’m not hurting you?”

  “No!” She made a little movement with her hips, making him lose what little restraint he had. He sank into her completely. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him as close as she possibly could, her hands roaming his shoulders and back, everywhere she could reach.

  Her nails dug into his ass, and he didn’t care. Lifting his head, he met her gaze.

  She smiled.

  And, damn, he was a dead man, because he loved her smile. When he began to move, she moaned and rocked in sync with him. In less than a minute, he was breathing in ragged pants. A guy who ran five miles every morning should not be breathless this fast, but it wasn’t the exertion.

  It was finally being with her again and discovering that their magic still existed. Her fingers slid back up to tangle in his hair, and she pulled him down for another kiss. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her cheeks flushed. When she opened her eyes, he could see they were stormy gray and filled with desire and hunger.

  For him.

  She was so beautiful, she made his throat hurt.

  She kept her eyes open, and they stared at each other as they moved together, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. So beautiful… And then he couldn’t think anymore because she was coming again, gripping him so tightly, he couldn’t breathe—not that he needed air when he had her.

  Was there a sweeter sound than hearing his name on her lips, knowing that he’d satisfied her?

  No.

  He buried his face in the curve of her neck as he came, biting his lip to keep from telling her what he wanted so badly to say.

  I love you…still, again…always.

  * * * *

  He had no idea how much later it was when he came awake, violently aroused. The reason for that was slowly lowering herself onto his body. The moan that escaped his lips tugged a whimper from hers. Going from dead-asleep to wide-awake in a single blink, he rolled, tucking Daisy beneath him, his hands tangling with hers, raising them above her head as he filled her inch by delicious inch until it felt like they were one.

  Looking into his eyes, she rocked her hips for more. “Hey,” she whispered playfully.

  With one hard thru
st, he proved that he wasn’t feeling playful. But he was most definitely feeling something because he held her to him and growled out, “Hey yourself,” before letting her take him places he’d never been with anyone but her.

  They fell asleep again, entangled, hearts thumping against each other’s chests. The next time Diego woke was different than the time before. Very different.

  Because he was alone.

  He stared up at the ceiling, replaying the night before in his head. On repeat. He had no idea what any of it meant, except that if he was being honest with himself, nothing had felt so right as being wrapped up in Daisy’s arms again. It was if he belonged there.

  His cell vibrated across his nightstand, and he glanced over at it.

  Rocco.

  With a deep breath, he answered. “Hey.”

  “It’s Tyler. I’m sorry, I didn’t have your number so I borrowed Rocco’s phone.”

  What Diego knew about Tyler had come mostly from Instagram. The guy was an interior decorator, loved cats and traveling and…Rocco. Which, no matter how complicated Diego’s feelings for Daisy were, what he’d seen of Tyler was enough for Diego to like him.

  “I know this is probably odd for you,” Tyler said into the silence.

  “Getting a phone call?”

  “Talking to the man who’s going to marry your brother.”

  Diego let out a low laugh and scrubbed a hand down his face. “One of the few things that isn’t odd at all, actually. What’s up?”

  “I’m hoping to talk you into forgiving Rocco. He’s been anxious about this, about seeing you again, and I’d like to see him be able to enjoy this week for what it is. His wedding. His only wedding.”

  Tyler’s tone was light, easy. Casual. But there was an undertone of protection. For Rocco.

  And that, more than anything else, reached Diego. “I can appreciate that. But this thing between Rocco and I…it goes back a whole hell of a long time. You know that.”

  “I do know that,” Tyler said. “I lost my own brother last year.”