The Secret Life of Bryan (18 page)

Hell of an idea. “Okay. So instead of chops, I can pull together some cheese sandwiches.”

“Sounds good.” She sashayed out of the room, but said over her shoulder, “I do believe I’ve worked up an appetite. And besides, I don’t want you to think I’m a cheap date.”

“Never.” Bryan frowned at himself, but he knew the truth. How could she be cheap—when she’d just taken his heart?

B
ryan set a second cheese sandwich in front of Shay. She’d polished off the first in record time.

“Thank you. If Morganna and Patti saw me wolfing down my food, they’d never listen to me about manners.”

“Those two, more than most, would understand why you’re hungry.” He winked at her.

Bryan had been irresistible to her even before he’d begun showing his more playful side. Now that he seemed inclined to tease her, she was a complete and total goner. Who could resist such a strong, capable man, confident enough to care openly for others, and playful to boot? Not her.

And she didn’t care. If this was love, then she embraced it. No man had ever affected her as he did. Something—feminine intuition, gut instinct, or good old chemistry—told her that Bryan was her equal in every way that mattered most. They shared the same objectives. He never bored her with his talk. She adored his tall, strong physique. And making love with him was so powerful, it almost scared her, when nothing ever scared her.

He was her mate—the one man who could make her happy.

One way or another, she’d win his heart. “So what did Chili have to say?”

Bryan took his seat opposite her. “He claims Leigh and Amy had the same pimp.”

Startled, she said, “But…they each had personal relationships with the guy! Amy thinks she was special to him, and Leigh said he was her boyfriend—”

“Exactly. He manipulated them the same way.”

Whenever Shay thought of her childhood, it was the abandonment, the emotional abuse, that cut the most. Bruises to the skin healed, and were much easier to ignore than bruises to the heart. “That bastard.”

“Yeah.”

Her thoughts spun around, trying to find solid ground. “But the recent stuff can’t be because of him. You said he got locked up on a drug arrest.”

“That’s what I was told. But the legal system doesn’t always work. Could be the son of a bitch is out already.”

Food lost all appeal. “You think he’s the one who was outside Dawn’s when I took Leigh there?”

Bryan nodded. “And I’m betting he’s the one who shot the paintball through the window. He wants me to stop helping the women so he can keep working them.”

Her blood seemed to congeal in her veins, leaving her cold and uncertain. “This is incredible. And really scary.”

Bryan slid his big feet over to encase hers under the table. “Leigh said the guy’s name was Freddie. Chili said he’s Freddie Baker.” His gaze moved over her face. “I need to talk to Amy about it, to ask her a few questions. But I’d like it if you were with me. Amy trusts you more than me.”

Shay barely heard him. “We have to stop him.”

Bryan’s expression hardened and he leaned across the table, palms flattened on the surface. “Wrong.
I
have to stop him. And I will.”

He waited for her agreement, so Shay shrugged. “I won’t get in your way.” But she could hire more people to find him, and more people to watch the women until Freddie was locked away again.

Bryan watched her a moment more, and Shay kept her expression as innocent as possible. Finally, he relaxed in his seat. “Unfortunately, I don’t know where he is. He was supposed to be checking in with his parole officer, but hasn’t.”

“How do you know that?” And before he could answer, she said, “Right. More contacts?”

“Something like that.”

“For a preacher, you sure have a lot of influential friends.”

He settled back in his seat, shifting his broad shoulders and said almost reluctantly, “With what I do, those friends come in handy.”

“Friends in the police force?”

He shrugged. “And there’s always Joe Winston.”

“Who?”

Bryan grinned with some fond memory. “The baddest badass of them all. He used to be a bounty hunter—a P.I. and a cop, too. But these days he runs a lake in Visitation, North Carolina, and does his damndest to keep up with Luna.”

“Luna?” Such an odd name, Shay thought, but Bryan smiled as he said it.

“His wife. And if that isn’t enough, Willow and Austin, his two adopted kids, keep him hopping, too. But I swear, he loves it.” Then he added with a chuckle: “The big fraud.”

Shay liked his laugh. It was deep and real and natural. “If he lives in North Carolina, how do you know him? Did you used to live there, too?”

His dark eyes filled with mockery. “And you accused me of asking too many questions.”

“But mine are just idle curiosity.”

“Right.”

He didn’t buy that for a second, and Shay didn’t bother to argue the point. She wanted to know everything about him. And eventually, she’d let him know everything about her.

But not until she knew he cared, and that he’d understand.

“Until he followed Luna to North Carolina, Joe lived in Ohio. I…visited him there.” He shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms over the table and visibly chewing his thoughts before deciding to share with her.

Shay braced herself for some grand confession, perhaps that he wasn’t a preacher at all.

But instead, he said, “I bought some land in Visitation.”

“Really?” Surprise immediately led to worry. Did that mean he planned to relocate? What about his work? What about the women?

She’d just bought property near his safe house. She’d envisioned them working together, united both in convictions and in love.

“Yeah. Not far from where Winston lives now.” He shrugged. “It’s just an acre, but it’s secluded, edged by a farmer’s fields. And there’s a creek that runs across the back end and a lot of mature trees.”

He sounded totally enamored of the land. Alarmed, Shay blurted, “You’re not moving, are you?”

“Maybe. Someday.” He studied her a moment, then said, “Do you enjoy the country?”

She’d enjoy living anywhere he lived. “Sure. Of course. Why not?”

The way she rushed that answer brought a smile to his mouth. “No malls. Not much entertainment. Just lots of trees and plenty of bugs. But the air is fresh and the creek looks incredible in the sun or under the moonlight. You see deer and coyote and wild turkeys…”

“It sounds like you want to be there now.”

He hesitated again, frowned, then said, “I’d always planned to live in the country. Away from the smog and the traffic.” His gaze sharpened. “But my wife liked the city.”

Shay almost fell off her chair. “Your
wife
?”

“She’s gone now.” He watched her closely while admitting that.

Oh God, she could not possibly be glad about that, but…“What happened to her?”

“She was murdered.” He slashed a hand through the air. “A bullet meant for someone else hit her instead. She died almost instantly.”

Her heart dropped to her knees. She shook her head. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Her whispered words seemed to jerk through him. He pushed to his feet. “You done eating?”

With the giant lump in her throat, she’d choke if she tried to swallow another bite. “Yes.”

He reached out a hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

It wasn’t an offer so much as a command. Resolve turned his dark eyes flinty and set his jaw in uncompromising lines. Shay didn’t hesitate. She accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her down the hall.

With each step nearer to the bedroom, his urgency grew until she could actually feel it. He vibrated with a mixture of testosterone, savage possessiveness and iron determination. They were barely through the bedroom doorway when he turned and pinned her to the wall. He took her mouth and at the same time, caught her thigh and lifted it up to his hip so she could feel his erection, long and hard, against her.

Just like that, Shay was ready. He could smile at her and set her on fire, but knowing that he needed her, that thoughts of his wife were now driving him toward a distraction, made her feel urgent, too. She wanted to be the woman he turned to. For everything.

Gentling him, she kissed him back, softly, teasing. She stroked down his chest, insinuated her hand between their bodies, and cupped her hand over the fly of his boxers. Her fingers curled around his throbbing length.

Hissing out a breath, Bryan tilted his head back and let her do as she pleased. Against the back of her fingers, his abdomen was rock hard and warm. His cotton boxers were soft, molding to his sex. She used both hands to stroke and tease.

The tanned skin of his upper chest drew her, and she kissed him there, tasting his flesh, brushing her lips over hard bone and flexing muscles. When she started to slip her hand inside the snug boxers, he stopped her. Their eyes met. His nostrils flared with his deep breaths, and then he had her upper arms, turning her and toppling her into the bed.

“I meant to go slower this time,” he rasped while stripping off her shirt and cupping her breasts, stroking her nipples. “Christ, I feel like I’m coming off a year of celibacy.”

Shay panted, trying to pull him over her. “I am,” she said. “Two years, in fact.”

He froze. Jerking up, he looked at her, his brows down, his eyes filled with stunned disbelief.

She didn’t care. Touching his lower lip, she whispered, “I was married once, too. It…hasn’t been easy since then.” His expression didn’t change. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me. You’re special, Bryan Kelly. To me. Probably to a lot of people.”

More seconds ticked by, then he smoothed her hair from her face, kissed her forehead, and turned to the nightstand for a condom. “Slow,” he said, rolling on a condom with ease. “I’ll go slow if it kills me.”

Shay grinned. “I kind of liked it hard and fast.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah, me too.”

“Then why mess with perfection?”

He struggled with himself, but in the end, he lost. He turned to her with a growl, and then his hands were everywhere, holding her breasts, lightly tormenting her nipples. He stroked down to her belly, slid his fingers through her curls, parted her, pressed in.

His mouth swallowed her groan, and then he was between her legs, pressing her knees apart, and she felt the thick length of his erection sink into her. It was wonderful. It was exciting.

It was fast, as before, but infinitely more tender.

Shay lay curled against him, her head on his shoulder, idly playing with his chest hair. She was boneless, drowsy. Very sweet.

“I care about you, Bryan. A lot.”

Bryan squeezed his eyes shut. The woman constantly knocked him off guard with the unexpected. “What happened to your husband?”

“He died a few years ago.”

“How?” He no sooner asked it, than he realized how abrupt he sounded. “An accident?”

She shook her head. “Phillip was a really nice man. Gentle. Kind. Everyone loved him.”

“Including you?”

“I loved him most of all.” She snuggled closer. “He was older than me.”

“By much?”

She hesitated. “By a lot, actually.”

Bryan didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know. So, Shay had turned to an older man, probably an authority figure, given her tragic childhood. She’d searched for love and acceptance…It didn’t work. His stomach churned with disturbing images of Shay desperate for affection. He tightened his arms around her. He wouldn’t let her ever feel that way again. Somehow he’d make sure she knew her own worth.

“He had a weak heart and his health suffered for years before he passed away.” Shay twisted her head up to see his face. “Was your wife a wonderful person?”

Normally, he hated talking about Megan. But with Shay, everything was different. He shook his head. “No. No, she wasn’t. She was…selfish. And confused.”

Again and again, he trailed his fingers through her long, pale hair. It was silken and warm, like Shay. Bryan couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t stop the tide of emotions that seemed to be growing more powerful by the moment. “In a lot of ways, she was too naive for her own good. That’s what attracted me in the first place.” He considered his words, and then shared things he seldom shared with anyone, even his father or brother. “Dad raised us alone. Did I tell you my dad is a preacher, too?”

“No. You’ve never mentioned your family much at all.”

She had him there. By necessity, he’d pried into her life while keeping his own very private.

But there were some things he could share. “My mother hated the simple life we had. My dad started out in the service, and Mom thought they’d travel a lot, see the world. But then he got the calling and left the military to become a preacher.”

He rubbed Shay’s shoulder, lost in his thoughts. “He’s good at what he does, but Mom hated it. Our house was modest, our budget tight. She wanted more, so she split.”

“Do you see her still?”

He shook his head. “Somewhere along the way she remarried, but not long after that she died of cancer. She hadn’t ever kept in touch, and she didn’t have any other kids. I never really knew her, so I don’t miss her, but I decided early on that I’d never fall for a woman who couldn’t be content with me and what I do.”

“And you thought your wife would be?”

He shrugged. “She was shy and unsure of herself and she needed someone to look after her. I thought that someone would be me.”

Shay pressed a warm kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Do you still love her?”

“No.” He thought about Megan, and said, “I feel guilt. I think I’ll always feel guilt.”

“Because you think you could have saved her?”

“Yeah. I could have.” But he hadn’t. He’d been too pissed to realize the danger she was in. He had to walk a fine line with this tale, but for some reason, he wanted Shay to understand. “She resented the time I spent working, and felt neglected. Because of that, she got involved with another man. A real low-life scum criminal. People were hunting him.”
Including me.
But he couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t tell her that Bruno had used Megan to hurt him, because it would give too much away. “She got caught in the cross fire.”

Shay pushed up on his chest to see his face. “So how could you have saved her?”

As amazing as it seemed, he didn’t want to ruin Shay’s impression of him. He didn’t want her to realize that out of all the bastards in the world, he might be the biggest.

But Shay being Shay, she wouldn’t give it up. Eventually she’d learn the truth about him, so it was better that she hear bits and pieces early on, to help prepare her.