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His expression darkened. “You’re not marrying him.”
“Yes, I am.”
He grabbed her left hand. “Without a ring?”
Brea blinked. She and Cutter hadn’t even talked about that. When Pierce was this close and clouding her senses, everything inside her resisted the idea of wearing a symbol that proclaimed she belonged to anyone else. “A formality.”
He cursed. “No. It’s bullshit. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I only left because I’m trying to keep you safe, not because I don’t love you. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let you marry him the second my back is turned.”
Pierce thought he’d been protecting her? “Safe from what?”
“My life is dangerous as fuck right now, and the less you know, the better.” He glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed. “And I’ve been here too long. But this isn’t over, pretty girl. We aren’t over. And as soon as I put an end to this shit, you’ll say yes to me.” He grabbed her face and forced his gaze into hers. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure of that.”
Her heart seized up. Everything inside her wanted to throw herself against him and tell him she still loved him. But she didn’t have the luxury of following her feelings anymore. “No. I’m getting married.”
Pierce lowered his lips dangerously close to hers. “Not to him.”
Suddenly, the door crashed in, and Cage stomped into the room, his prying stare bouncing between them. “Brea?”
“I’m fine.” But her voice shook. Her head reeled. Her chest tightened.
“Good. Go ahead. Your client is leaving. And I have a few things to say to Walker.”
Brea didn’t want to leave, but every minute she spent alone with Pierce was another minute the town would gossip.
“Thanks.” She eased away from him.
He grabbed her arm again. “I mean it, pretty girl. I’m coming back for you.”
Cage broke Pierce’s hold on her, and Brea seized the opportunity to leave…but she couldn’t do it without looking back at him.
His face said he was dead serious; nothing would stop him from winning her back. And as she hustled out of the room, she feared all the way down to her soul that she wouldn’t be strong enough to say no to him for long.
“Outside,” Cage growled and grabbed his arm the second Brea left the room. “Let’s go.”
One-Mile jerked free. “Don’t act like you’re perp-walking me out of here, asshole. I’ve said what I came to say. Now I’m leaving.”
But he hadn’t gotten through to Brea. Worse, he couldn’t stay any longer without putting her at risk.
God, everything between them had become a gaping clusterfuck. Why was she so goddamn hell-bent on marrying Bryant all of a sudden? Yeah, One-Mile got why she’d doubted his feelings. Telling her he loved her in one breath and that he’d killed dear ol’ Dad the next probably didn’t inspire her devotion. Insisting he needed to put distance between them the next time he saw her had jacked things up even more. But of course he still loved her. He’d fucking told her so.
It hadn’t made a damn bit of difference to her…and that fact nearly gutted him.
I love Cutter. I have all my life.
One-Mile cursed under his breath. If that was true, then why the actual fuck had she once pledged her heart to him?
It didn’t add up.
Maybe she’d accepted Bryant’s proposal because he was her safe bet. Daddy’s choice. The smart one who’d known better than to defile Brea before marriage or ask her to shack up.
Except…why would she say yes to Bryant now? Cutter was in another state, so it wasn’t as if they had recently shared a romantic heart-to-heart—or even a hot night in the sack—during which he’d persuaded Brea to be his wife. Nope, the asshole had been in California for nearly a week, and she’d chosen last night to become the future Mrs. Bryant? Over the phone? When she didn’t feel an ounce of passion for him? Brea couldn’t fake that, and One-Mile knew her lush little body was still his. Every time she looked at him, that fact was all over her face. No, passion wasn’t love…but she still wanted him. That fucking mattered.
Stifling a curse, he shouldered his way out of the little break room, then exited the back of the salon, into the mostly vacant lot. Not because he gave any fucks about the biddies in the beauty shop gawking at him but because he’d embarrassed Brea. He hadn’t known how much that would disturb her until the damage had been done.
Besides, if he saw her again, he wasn’t sure he could make himself walk away. For her safety, he had to. Hopefully, anyone from Montilla’s organization who might be watching would think he’d tried to ditch them by ducking through the beauty shop. But coming here had been an impulsive, knee-jerk reaction. Fucking stupid. He had to lock down this emotional shit.
