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“It’s sweet without being overrun with color. It’s peaceful. It fits you.”
“You make me sound so exciting, Allen. I’m starting to understand why you call me Mouse now.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being peaceful, Jessie. It’s something most would kill to have in their lives.”
I think about his words while I fix the coffeemaker. I hear a chair scrape against the floor and look over to see Allen pulling out a stool from the bar. He sits down, but he looks extremely uncomfortable.
“You don’t look at peace right now, Allen.”
“I shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, rubbing the side of his face as he looks at me.
“Why not?”
“I’m… We’re never going to work.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, blinking. I feel like he slapped me; that’s how dramatically his words jar me.
“Jessie, you and I are too different.”
“I don’t remember us ever dating for you to determine anything about me.”
“There’s a pull between us. You can’t deny that. I know you felt it that day in your shop,” he says.
“This always happens to me,” I grumble under my breath.
“What happens?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I hadn’t planned on him hearing me, but it doesn’t really matter.
“What happens?” he asks again, stressing the words.
“Crazy men,” I mutter with a sigh.
“What?”
“I attract crazy men.”
“Jessie—”
“Allen, I really like you.”
“I—”
“And I mean, I really like you. I like you in a I’m-thinking-of-sneaking-into-my-bedroom-and-putting-on-my-good-underwear kind of way.”
I watch as my words register and, despite the worries clogging his mind, he starts laughing.
“I prefer no underwear if you were wondering.”
“That would be good advice and maybe I would listen if you weren’t sitting at my table wishing you were anywhere else.”
“Jessie—”
“If you want to go, Allen, just go. But if you want to stay, how about I fix some dinner, we watch a movie and actually get to know each other before you decide we don’t even deserve a shot?”
“Trust me, Jessie. I’m only trying to protect you.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be protected,” I answer.
“It’s too late to cook. I can take you out—”
“How about I order a pizza?”
He studies me and I’m pretty sure he wants to say no, but for whatever reason he nods his head in agreement.
I smile, really glad I won this battle—even if I’m not sure why.
8
Jessie
“Jessie.” Allen’s voice wakes me up.
My eyes open slowly and I look around. I’m on my sofa, lying against Allen’s side. His arms are around me and my head is on his chest. I close my eyes again and drink in the pleasure of being here—like this—with Allen. It’s been a perfect night. Well, it has been since he decided to stay. We talked, we held hands, ate pizza and watched a marathon of Bruce Willis movies.
“Hi,” I whisper, opening my eyes once again, but more slowly this time.
“Sleepyhead.” He smiles as his finger drags across my cheek. “I take it you’re not a Sixth Sense fan?”
He’s right… I’m not. I saw the outcome of that movie a mile off the first time I watched it. But I’m a very big fan of Allen. This might be the single best night of my life and he hasn’t even kissed me yet.
“I liked the Die Hard ones.” I grin. His finger slides back and forth, closer and closer to my mouth. When I smile his thumb rests on my lip. It brushes against the small opening where my lips meet. On instinct I open, letting the thumb push deeper in.
“You’re a dangerous woman, Jessie Hart,” Allen murmurs, his dark eyes staring at me so intently they shine, reminding me of liquid—hot, molten liquid.
I find myself licking the tip of his thumb. I don’t do it intentionally; I just can’t stop myself. I watch Allen’s face tighten, and he takes a breath that travels through him so noticeably I’m hypnotized at the way his chest moves. I bring my gaze back to his face and I can read the desire there.
Desire for me.
“Dangerous?” I ask, every nerve ending in my body feeling as if it is on fire.
“Very dangerous,” he responds. His thumb pushes deeper and I bite on the tip, my eyes never leaving his. “Dangerous to my peace of mind,” he says and then his thumb is gone and his hands latch onto my upper arms and he pulls me up farther along his body.
“Allen,” I gasp, just as his lips crash down on mine.
It’s an intense kiss that takes my breath away. He takes control of my mouth, devouring me. Our tongues tangle as if they’re warring with each other. His hand moves to my neck and he holds me in place, leaving me unable to pull away even if I wanted to—which I don’t. It’s a kiss like I’ve never experienced. It steals my breath and my ability to do anything other than to submit to his demands. I do that willingly. Without my realizing it, my hands go to his back, my nails digging in, and he groans into my mouth. I swallow it down, matching it with my own. His fingers move down to the curve of my breast. I feel him squeeze it, his fingers brushing against my nipple, and I whimper because it feels so good, but I wish I could feel it without my shirt and bra in the way.
Allen pulls away and I cry out in disappointment. I open my eyes, dragging air into my lungs. His hand tightens almost painfully on my breast.
“You’re so dangerous,” he groans.
“I wouldn’t hurt you, Allen,” I tell him because something in his eyes compels me to assure him of that.
“You could hurt me more than anyone ever has, and that’s admitting to more than you could ever guess, Jessie.”
“Allen—”
“I better get home.”
“What if I asked you to stay?”
“I want to,” he answers, and joy begins to spread through me—right before he ends it. “But I won’t.”
“Allen—”
“Not tonight, sweetheart. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“I don’t want you to go,” I tell him, completely honest.
“And I don’t want to, but I’m going to.”
“I—”
“There’s things you don’t know, Jessie.”
“So tell me,” I urge him.
“If this keeps going in the direction it is, I will, Mouse. I promise,” he says, his fingers combing through my hair.
“I really like you, Allen.” My words make his lips twitch so that he almost smiles. I want him to smile and suddenly I need him to… because I can see sadness in his eyes. I want that sadness gone. “I like you so much, I don’t even mind your calling me a rodent.”
That does it. He does smile and this one helps to lift the sadness from his gaze and for tonight that feels like a victory. With Allen, I’m beginning to realize being with him might be a war… which means victories—no matter how small—are a good thing.
9
Allen
“You’ve found her, haven’t you?”
I look up
at Roman as he walks toward me. We’re at the pool beside the luxury resort that we’re staying in. Ana and little Roman are playing in the kiddie pool. My eyes haven’t left them.
That’s not unusual. My job is to watch my sister and nephew constantly, to make sure they’re always safe. I’m grateful that Roman has developed enough trust in me to give me this job. When I look at them sometimes my heart hurts in my damn chest. I don’t deserve to still have Ana in my life. I blamed her for so much. I pushed her away, I put her life in danger… Fuck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” I lie. I know exactly what Roman is talking about.
Jessie.
Roman’s right. I have found the one. She hit my life like a keg of dynamite the first time I saw her. I was dazzled by the display while the resounding boom was still ringing in my ears. She’s the one. She’s most definitely the one. The one thing Roman doesn’t understand is…
I’m not him.
“Bullshit,” Roman says, shaking the ice in his almost empty scotch. “Don’t fuck with me, Allen. I’ve built my life on reading people.”
“I can’t have her, Roman.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I’m not you, okay? I am who I am and nothing is going to change my past,” I growl.
I watch as Ana plays with my nephew’s boats and they’re laughing. Ana’s so happy. She deserves all this and more. I’m here because of her, but there’s not one thing about this life that I deserve—not after the things I’ve done.
“You’re right,” Roman says with such finality I jerk my head around. I mean, I knew what I was saying, but I at least expected the bastard to try and talk me out of it.
“I—”
“Your past is fucked up. So was mine. You weren’t alone in that room that day exacting your revenge on that bastard. I was right there with you and, Allen, you’ve worked with me enough to know exactly how I deal with men who cross me,” Roman says and I rub the back of my neck, working on the tension gathering there. “You know exactly what I expect from the men who work for me to protect my family. I’ve never been good enough for Ana or my son. I never will be.”
