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Shealyn smiled. “Of course. I’d never try to keep him from seeing you two. And I’m sure—”
The jiggling of the lock startled Brea. At the sound, Shealyn fell silent and stood, nervously wringing her hands.
Seconds later, the door opened and Cutter walked in, palming his keys. He walked in—then stopped in mid-stride. Brea watched his stare climb up Shealyn’s body and saw their gazes lock. His expression twisted with pain and need. The air between them sizzled. She felt their mutual longing like a physical pang.
It was obvious Cutter loved Shealyn with every ounce of his being.
“What are you doing here?” He sounded as if someone had stolen the breath from his chest.
Shealyn lifted her chin. “I came to talk to you.”
“And that’s my cue to leave.” They needed privacy, and she’d only be in their way. “Shealyn, it was lovely to meet you. I’m glad we’ve had this chance to talk.”
“Me, too.” The actress smiled and hugged her. “Thank you.”
Brea had a feeling they’d eventually be friends. But for now, Cutter scowled in confusion, so she sidled closer and wrapped her arms around him. “You two talk. Be happy. Don’t worry about me. Tomorrow, we can discuss what idiots we’ve been. Then we’ll figure out the best way to let everyone know the wedding is off.”
Shock spread across his face. “You’re good with ending it?”
“Absolutely.” From the sound of his voice, it seemed Cutter had been contemplating breaking off their engagement, too. For her safety, he’d remained her fiancé longer than he should have, and she loved him for it. But now he needed to follow his heart. “I only had to see you and Shealyn look at each other once. I would never stand in the way of love.”
Brea kissed his cheek, swiped her gun off the table, grabbed her pregnancy book, then shoved everything in her purse. She wriggled into her tennis shoes by the door, then grabbed her keys.
“Um, Brea… Before you go, I should tell you—”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow. You have someone way more important than me who needs you right now. Bye.” With a little wave, she backed out of the door and shut it, leaving them in privacy.
As the door clicked closed, she sighed. Hopefully they would work everything out and live happily ever after.
Brea feared she wasn’t going to.
“Hi, pretty girl,” a wonderfully familiar, dark voice rasped inches from her ear.
With a gasp, she whirled.
Pierce?
There he stood just beyond the circle of the porch light.
Her world stopped. Her heart thundered. A two-ton weight of relief hit her. “You’re alive!”
“Yeah.”
But there was something different about him… He had an edge she’d never seen. It wasn’t just the dark clothes hanging from his leaner frame or the thick beard he wore over his sunken cheeks. It was more than the determination gleaming in his hungry black eyes as he visually inhaled her. The difference was danger. He reeked of it. Its intensity pinged off him.
“And you’re really here?”
“For now. God, you look beautiful.” Pierce clenched his fists at his sides, as if he was desperate to touch her…but didn’t.
Brea bridged the chasm between them and threw herself against him, wrapping him in her arms.
Pierce groaned as he pressed every inch of her against his hard body, clutching her so tightly she could barely breathe. “I needed to see you, baby. So bad.”
Brea had a million questions, but she held back as he buried his face in her neck and breathed her in as if he’d never let her go. She clung to him in return, fisting his shirt and pressing kisses along his razor-sharp jaw as stinging tears gathered in her eyes. He’d lost sleep and lost weight. Concern rose.
Her phone buzzing in her purse shuttled her questions and dashed the moment.
“That better not be Cutter.” Pierce scowled.
She doubted that very much as she reached for her device. “It’s Matt. He’s staying at your place.”
“He’s still in town?”
“You haven’t spoken to him?”
He cupped her face in his big, rough hands. “Pretty girl, if I was going to take the risk of talking to anyone, it would have been you.”
The way he stared down into her eyes, as if he ached to possess her body by taking her soul, made Brea shiver. “Are you going to kiss me?”
It wasn’t the question she should be asking, but they’d get to everything else. This mattered most now.
“Here?” He shook his head. “No.”
Didn’t he want to? “Why?”
“It’s been a long month alone. The minute I put my mouth on you, I’m going to want to bury my cock inside you. And here isn’t a good place for that.”
His bluntness made Brea laugh. “No, here isn’t a good place at all. I guess I don’t have to worry that you don’t want me anymore.”
“Oh, baby… If I could have stopped wanting you, I would have saved you from me a long time ago.”
