SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (27 page)

“Chloe and I had an interesting conversation about curses, as well.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

“Go figure.”

Their gazes snagged again for a hot moment that he felt deep beneath the skin.

“I found some scotch,” he said. “Wanna get drunk with me?”

“Is it making you feel better?”

“You make me feel better.”

He froze. He hadn’t meant to say that, but she gave him a beatific smile that made him glad he had. It was true; he did feel better.

She moved to the small wrought-iron table he’d been sitting next to and took a sip of his scotch. Her lips against his glass made his muscles tighten. He wanted to taste her lips.

“Writing?” she asked, glancing at his notebook.

He nodded, coming closer.

“Is that really why you’re here?”

He shook his head. “You know it’s not.”

She bit her lip, but he could see she believed him.

“What else did Michael tell you?” he asked instead of kissing her, like he wanted to.

“He said my grandfather’s name was Jimmy.”

“That’s better than Horatio.”

Her smile pleased him more than it should have.

“I never knew. Grandma Beck never talked about him, and every time I brought him up it made her cry. Michael also talked about another man. Someone with a weird name.”

“Aiken?”

Surprised, she asked, “How did you know?”

“Chloe.”

She gave him an
of course
look.

“What did he say about Aiken?”

“That he didn’t stay dead and he’s looking for something in the Dead Lights.”

Reilly’s gaze shifted to the ruins. “Chloe’s version was about the same. She said she came here once, to tell Carolina she was in danger.”

Gracie nodded. “She warned her about a man and a curse.”

“I feel like I’m in a Hitchcock movie.”

“I keep wanting to laugh, but Michael was pretty convincing, and God knows I heard enough about curses from Grandma. I know I’m freaking myself out. I keep feeling like someone’s watching me.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to be more subtle.”

She did laugh at that.

And Reilly found himself grinning like an idiot. He wiped the smile away and cleared his throat. “What else did Michael say?”

“Nothing. Jonathan interrupted us.”

“That guy makes me want to hit things.”

“Why?”

“There’s something off about him.”

“Compared to all the other normal people here?”

Point taken.
“How’s Analise?”

“Finally awake. She and Brendan crashed as soon as we got back. I heard them talking before I came down, but they haven’t come out of her room yet.”

Her frown puckered the skin between her eyes, and she shook her head.

“Tell me about this Brendan.”

Who knocked up our daughter . . .

“He’s nice enough. He’s been on his own since he was fifteen, though. Rough life.” She sighed. “And he’s devoted to Analise.”

“But you don’t like him?” Reilly said.

“It’s not that. He’s just changed the course of her life so radically—how can I not resent him for that? Analise had her hands filled with opportunities and now . . . now she’s going to have her hands filled with diapers and baby bottles. She’s not even out of high school, Reilly.”

He looked at her, not sure if this was the place to butt in or butt out. “Your circumstances were a hell of a lot worse at her age and you still turned out pretty good.”

“Appearances can be deceiving.”

“At least she’ll have you.”

And me if you’ll allow it.

The thought came from nowhere and nearly choked him with surprise. Did he mean it? Did he
want
that?

She gave him a curious look, like maybe she’d heard his thoughts. She’d always been able to do that, from that very first time they were alone in the library when she’d calmly asked if he was going to think about her forever or just get it over with and ask her out.

“So are we going to talk about it?” he said, shocking the hell out of himself.

Evidently, out of her, too.

“You didn’t used to be so direct.”

“I didn’t used to be a lot of things. Did it mean anything or were you just blowing off steam?”

A flush crept up her face. “Both, maybe. I wanted to prove something.”

“That you were right to move on?”

Her eyes were wary again. “That you were just some man I used to know. No one special.”

His smile felt brittle, hard edged, and meaningless. “You didn’t use to be so cold,” he teased, like it didn’t matter.

“I didn’t used to be a lot of things.”

“So what did you decide?”

She stared at him, her eyes the color of the storm thundering around them. Within their misted depths he saw hurt and confusion.

“I’m sorry I never told you about Analise.”

He took another step closer to her. He couldn’t seem to help himself. “You did what you thought was best. I didn’t deserve to know.”

“It’s hard to remember that now that I know why you left,” she said, and he moved closer still. He could almost touch her now. “I wish you’d trusted me with the truth, though. Maybe we could’ve . . .”

“We couldn’t have, Gracie, and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. Because I knew you’d be looking for ways to prove me wrong. But you didn’t know Matt like I did.”

“I know he loved
you
. He wouldn’t have hurt you.”

When did he change?

Reilly exhaled, his fingers caressing the silk of her check.

“Did you ever meet my dad, Gracie?”

She shook her head. “Grandma Beck told me to stay away from him. She’d cross the street rather than walk on the same side. He died before you and I became a thing.”

A thing.
Is that what they’d been? Young love in motion. He’d been obsessed with Gracie. The day didn’t start until he saw her. It didn’t end until he had to say good-bye.

“He didn’t
die
,” Reilly murmured.

“He crashed his car in the ruins,” she said, frowning. “It was all anyone talked about for weeks. That, and your poor mother.”

Reilly stood at the edge of the porch railing. The rain splattered him there, but he didn’t care. It felt good. Clean.

He’d been fourteen years old the day he and Matt had come home from school to find that his father had beaten their mother to death with her iron. Her
iron
.
He’d been drunk, of course, and in a rage. By the time he’d called the job done—her face, her skull—there was little left but blood and gray matter. Most of that was smeared on his dad’s face and neck and hands.

Reilly leaned against the damp pole behind him, not sure if he could keep going. Silently, she came to stand beside him.

“You’ll get wet,” he said.

“I’ll dry.”

He nodded once, tried to smile but there was lump in his throat the size of a fist and he couldn’t even fake it.

“You know how my dad killed my mom?”

She nodded. Everyone had known. Small towns loved a good bloody drama and Diane Alexander’s bludgeoning had been too grisly not to share.

“Matt went nuts after we found her. We came home to all that blood in the kitchen. Dad was passed out, mom dead. I remember picking her up off the floor and then I didn’t know what to do with her. I just stood there, holding her, thinking,
What now
? I don’t know how long I stood that way before I realized that Matt had the iron and he was turning my dad’s head into mush.”

“But they found his car in the crater . . . Everyone said he killed himself.”

Reilly shook his head. “Not without help he didn’t.”

When did he change?

Reilly stared at the rain. He didn’t want to look at Gracie, didn’t want her to see what was inside him as he confessed. “There’s bad blood in our family. I wouldn’t be doing you any favors by coming back into your life.”

Gracie closed the distance between them and took his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Even when I hated you, I didn’t believe that.”

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her tight, burying his face in the fragrant softness between her neck and shoulder. She held him back, her lips against his throat, his cheek. She said nothing when his hands found the hem of her shirt and slipped under to glide across the warm satin of her ribs up to her lace-covered breasts. There, they stopped, as the feel of her overwhelmed him. No matter how strong she was, here, at her core, there was a fragility that he yearned to protect. She wrapped her arms around him tighter, and the sound of the pouring rain seemed to blend with the pounding of his pulse.

His feelings were a knot of confusion inside him, but he fought to find one that he could ride. He thought it would be desire, but it was something much more important.

She drew back and stared into his face. “You didn’t do me any favors leaving me, either, Reilly. I know that you think you did the right thing. I even believe that maybe you did. But it’s time to quit making excuses. You want to know if it meant something today? Only if you let it.”

Deep inside him, the yearning he’d lived with for far too long rose up and swamped him. She was asking for more than words, and he didn’t know how to answer. Not a day had passed when he hadn’t thought of her, yet he hadn’t tried harder to find her because the man he’d become understood what the boy he’d been never had. He could—he would—lose himself in her. He’d give up what he’d always been and become someone new. Someone vulnerable. Someone she could hurt.

And it fucking terrified him.

He stared into her eyes, saying nothing. She saw it all, though. The shutting down, the withdrawal. He still had his hands on her waist, still held her close enough to kiss, but it was already too late.

She pulled away with a bitter shake of her head, and Reilly wanted nothing more than to call her back. His body reacted before his thoughts and feelings could catch up and talk him out of it. He caught her hand and spun her around.

“That’s what I want,” he said, his voice gruff as the walls crumbled inside him. “I want it to mean something.” He paused and shook his head. “But I don’t want to fuck this up again. It almost killed me the first time.”

Gracie’s eyes shimmered as she turned into his arms and pressed her lips to his, letting her kiss speak for her. Reilly kissed her back with a desperation that shook him. He could almost hear the doors hidden in his heart bursting open, could feel the release of years of pain that had been sealed up behind them. He couldn’t get close enough to her. He wanted to strip her of her clothes and kiss her everywhere, savor the taste and feel of her without the barrier of the past getting in the way. He’d been confused, resentful, and inflamed when she’d come to his room earlier. What he’d given, what he’d taken, had come at price. Now, he felt free, and he wanted to just
be
with her, make love to her, let her make love to him.

He lifted his head, stared into her beautiful eyes, and saw a reflection of the avalanche of emotions he was feeling.

“I don’t think I ever stopped missing you,” she said.

His eyes burned, his throat felt raw. He swallowed, trying to hold it all inside until he could get her alone.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

“Yes.”

It was the best thing he’d ever heard, but at that moment, their daughter stepped out on the porch, and the world shifted again. Gracie tensed but she didn’t move out of his arms, and Reilly felt dizzy with relief. He understood the enormity of that small act of
staying
. She didn’t mean to let either of them hide away from the choices they’d just made.

He should have known. Gracie had never done things halfway.

Analise’s gaze took it all in—her mother’s flushed face, her body pressed against his. What did she see when she looked at Reilly? A disappointment? A broken man who’d never be a father?

Their daughter was so beautiful, so like her mother. So like him, in ways he could barely fathom. So undeserving of anything less than the best. Yet, he had nothing to offer but himself. With a deep breath, he met her gaze and hoped that would be enough.

Diablo Springs: Chapter Twenty-Three

Analise stood there, looking back and forth between Gracie and Reilly, frowning at them both while a hot blush spread over Gracie’s face. She felt like a teenager caught making out instead of a responsible mother, but she didn’t move away from Reilly. She could feel his tension, sense his uncertainty about what came next. Gracie knew how hard it had been for him to open up to her and she refused to give him the chance to shut down again. If there was ever going to be a future for them, it had to be in the open. That didn’t mean Analise needed details about how he made her heart race, though.

“Reilly and I were just catching up,” Gracie said. Analise didn’t roll her eyes, but Gracie could feel her disbelief. “Did you need something?”

Analise’s gaze darted past her and lingered on her father’s face. Gracie braced herself as the two eyed one another.

“So, you’re my dad,” Analise challenged.

“So, you’re my kid,” Reilly answered.

Analise’s chin came up. It was her defiant look, but Gracie could see the vulnerability around her mouth, the insecurity that lurked in her eyes.

“Your mom tells me you’re pretty smart.”

Analise shrugged.

“You must get that from her. I’m dumber than a horse’s ass.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she staunched the smile. “I know your music.”

Reilly couldn’t hide his surprise, and inside it, a hint of his own insecurity.

“I mean, I didn’t know it was your music. I mean, I didn’t know . . .” She trailed off, blushing furiously. “I play the violin. And the piano. But I’m better on the violin.”

A bemused look crossed Reilly’s face.

“Maybe I get that from you. That would be cool. A little.”

Reilly nodded. “That would be cool. A lot.”

Analise grinned shyly. Reilly grinned back. And Gracie’s heart swelled so big she was certain it would break.

An awkward silence followed. Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, Gracie cleared her throat. “How are you feeling, Analise?”