Page 37 of Wine & Whiskey
Her heart plummets as the realization sinks in. She just made love to a man she doesn’t understand, doesn’t really know. “I appreciate that, but I need to know what I’m being protected from.”
Taking a deep breath, she steps into the garage and pauses. He’s hidden from his spot in the driveway, yet his voice vibrates with anger, low and deep, just like at the coffee house. “You said you wanted this. You said you could do it without fucking it up. Now, here it is, two hours after you were supposed to call me with an update, and it’s still not fucking done.”
She steps outside. His eyes lock with hers as the corners of his mouth turn down and wrinkles line his forehead. Her heart pounds in her chest as they stare at each other, powerless to speak or move. Unable to comprehend the change in him from just a few minutes ago.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
He steps forward and caresses her cheek, his eyes seared with worry. He shakes his head and holds up two fingers, but she remains motionless. Desperate to understand what he hides. Turning away, he walks a few feet behind his car, dropping his voice, yet the fury still rings through the air.
“Don’t think what happened to Curtis can’t happen to you too. You’ve got one hour to keep everything we’ve worked for from being destroyed. I don’t have to explain to you what it means if you don’t.”
Now, she knows. The reality of his business he keeps from her. Unable to think about the meaning behind his threat, she rushes back into the house.
* * *
Nick shoveshis phone in his pocket and takes a deep breath before turning around. Trying to force his brain to generate the perfect words to soothe her fear, erase the doubt he just created. “Shae, I—”
She’s gone.
Fuck!
He races through the garage and jerks open the door, scanning the combined kitchen and family room area. Carrie sprinkles cheese over a casserole dish while Nathan slouches on the sofa, engrossed in the game. Both of them oblivious to the turmoil churning in his chest. “Where is she, Carrie?”
“In her bedroom.” Her hand pauses over the enchiladas and she looks up, her face drawn with worry. “Be careful, Nick. She’s pretty freaked out.”
His gut twists at her warning. “She’s not the only one.” He sprints down the hallway and knocks before turning the knob. “Shae?” The muffled hiss of the shower makes his stomach plunge. She’s hiding from him. He runs his hands through his hair. Why the hell did she have to come outside?
He drops into an arm chair in the corner of the room. The side table holds another stack of books next to a lone fashion magazine marked with a hand-written sticky note. Shae’s face graces the cover. Beautiful as always, but he knows her smile is posed. Not the genuine one that glows with joy and makes his heart race. The sentiment he probably won’t earn any more today.
I told you this dress would look gorgeous on you. Always listen to your stylist.
The post-it is signed with a smiley face and an arrow pointing to the headline.
Red Hot Fantasy.
He cringes at the implication. Jason’s right—Team Shae operates on overdrive to pump the media with salacious content without any connection to reality. Readers have no idea about her true personality, the sweet innocence she embodies. An angel compared to the other women he’s had in his life.
Possessive. Demanding. Insatiable. Common traits of the women he’s dated. The last one seduced him with her blatant wantonness and repelled him with her callousness. She lives her life how she likes her sex—hard, fast, and dirty. Her soul as hell-bound as his. Easy to understand why the only place they got along was in the bedroom.
His obvious reluctance to move beyond just a casual affair was the death knell of their relationship. She knew how to wound him and plunged the knife deep, mocking his dedication to the Foundation, telling him “women must like it if they stay with a man who hits them. They could leave if they really wanted to.” Their breakup was quick and ugly. Another failed relationship from his perverse habit of dating brash, emotionally damaging women who left him disappointed and unsatisfied.
Until Shae.
She changes everything. The exact opposite of his usual type, he knows his love for her borders on obsession. He can’t let her slip out of his grasp. She can’t be the one who got away because of his fucked-up world.
The bathroom door opens and Shae steps out, her eyes widening as she catches sight of him.
Rising from the chair, he forces himself to seek her permission. Unable to assume he’s welcome in her room or her life. “I hope it’s okay I’m in here. I can wait outside if you want me to.”
“No, you can stay.” She sits down on the bed, wrapping her arms around her legs, her pink robe tucked under her feet with her chin resting on her knees.
He gestures toward the bathroom. “I guess this means I’m not spending the night anymore.”
Her gaze drops to the floor, and she strokes the fabric with her fingertips. “I don’t know what it means. I just felt…dirty and wanted to take a shower.”
His stomach clenches. The impact of his phone call more damaging than he expects. “I’m sorry about what happened outside.”
“Are you sorry about what you said, or that I overheard?”
