Wild at Heart (8 page)

“I
still can’t believe you get to live with Rex Vogel.” Arianna Saxon straightened an abstract painting of bright blues, oranges, and reds, then stepped back to look at it again. She tucked a strand of long, dark auburn hair behind her ear. “I mean, he’s a freaking legend. You’ve got to be the luckiest person I know.”

“I’m not living
with
him,” I said, trying really hard not to roll my eyes. When I’d called Sabine to ask if she’d let the gallery host Dare’s show, she’d immediately said yes and offered me another job. That woman was definitely up for sainthood, and I was pretty sure I’d need to name my first child after her for all the things she’d done for me. “He has a separate apartment over his studio which I’m renting.”

A new show was opening at La Période Bleue in a few days, and we were putting the finishing touches on it. Then Dare’s exhibition would follow. Sabine was in Paris, overseeing the big showcase she’d originally hired me to run, and then she was spending the next six months scouting talent in Europe. In her absence, she’d left Arianna to manage the New York gallery.

I’d have been lying if I said that hadn’t stung.

But I couldn’t blame her. Arianna had been working at the gallery for over a year. Not to mention, Sabine had made these plans to spend time in Europe long before I’d bailed on her in Paris again. She’d simply moved up her departure date so she could take over for me first.

And Arianna was good. At twenty-six she’d built up an impressive list of clientele, and was already looking for a space in the city to open her own gallery in the next year or so. She had an incredible eye for talent—so much so that I had no doubt the paintings we were hanging would sell on opening night.

She was everything I wanted to be.

“But then again, maybe
I’m
the luckiest person because you introduced me to Rex and he’s been telling me about the artist we’re showing next. He’s taking me there tomorrow to see the paintings and meet the guy.” She brushed some imaginary dust off another painting’s frame. “I have such a good feeling about this guy and I haven’t even seen his work yet. But if Sabine and Rex like it, it’s got to be something special, don’t you think?”

“Without a doubt.” I liked Arianna, but the girl had talked about nothing but Rex since he’d picked me up after my first day of work. He’d come to make the connection with Arianna, so it would look like he’d been the one to arrange the show instead of me.

And it was fine. I was dealing.

Besides, Rex had been incredibly kind since he’d taken me under his wing. He stayed up late with me when I didn’t want to sleep because my nightmares had returned. He accompanied me to AA meetings and helped recommend a good therapist. But more than anything, he was a shoulder to lean on and an empathetic ear when I needed to talk.

If Sabine was my fairy godmother, Rex was my fairy godfather.

Most importantly, he kept me connected to Dare. Not that Rex ever said much about him, but I knew he was keeping tabs on Dare, and if anything happened to him, I would know.

It wasn’t much, but it was
something
.

At this point, I had to take anything I could get.

Dare and his family had completely cut me off—no one was answering my calls or texts. I couldn’t get anything out of them. And Rex just looked at me like his heart was broken every time I asked. So I stopped asking.

Arianna pivoted in the middle of the gallery, taking in each painting as she scoped out the room.

“Perfect,” she finally said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was ready to go home.

Even though I wasn’t spending every moment at his bedside anymore, I was still eating, sleeping, and breathing Dare. He was a part of every aspect of my life.

I couldn’t get away from thoughts about him anywhere I went—not at the gallery, not at Rex’s.

And, truth be told, I didn’t really want to anyway.

“Rex?” The screen door banged closed behind me as I strode into his silent studio. I was a little late tonight, but it was odd that he wasn’t inside. Although the cast hadn’t come off his arm yet, he still spent all day painting after I helped set up the canvases and paints each morning. Every night when I got home from the gallery, he was always here, hard at work.

It was so strange to think of this place as home, but it felt more like home to me than any other place, save for Dare’s. And Rex had welcomed me as if I were his own daughter.

Setting my bag down on the stairs, I walked through the studio and deeper into the house. Rex was in the kitchen trying to wrestle a pot of water from the sink to the stove.

With one arm.

Hurrying over, I took the pot and placed it on the stove.

“Look, I know my cooking skills are lacking,” I said, “but are they so bad you’ve been forced to fend for yourself with only one good arm?”

He laughed—a wonderful, rich sound that rolled around the room and wrapped me in warmth—and shook his head. “I thought I’d give you a break tonight. Make dinner for once. I miss it.”

I glanced at his sling. “You’ll be back at it again soon. In the meantime, you’re teaching me how to cook. That’s a worthwhile endeavor, isn’t it? Even if I screw up every dish?”

“Not
every
dish.” He laughed again when I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re getting better every time.”

“So, tell me, what are we making tonight?” Walking over to the sink to wash my hands, I spotted the cheese, milk, and butter on the counter.

Oh, shit. I knew what this meant even before he spoke.

“My famous macaroni and cheese.” Rex opened a cupboard and pulled out a grater. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had this dish. It’s my secret recipe that only a few other people know.”

The water ran cold over my hands. My stomach tightened, and I was sure I would not be able to eat. But I didn’t want Rex to feel bad—he obviously didn’t know. He’d been so careful to not mention Dare—if he’d had any inkling of the significance of this dish, I knew he’d never have planned to make it.

I couldn’t do anything but force a smile and try to get through this without bawling my eyes out.

Why did everything have to be so fucking hard?

I turned on the burner under the pot of water and started grating the cheese, every slide down the grater feeling like it was taking off a layer of my skin. Damn it. I needed to focus on something else or I was going to salt the water with my tears.

“How’s the painting going?”

Struggling a little to keep the box steady, Rex opened the pasta. “It’s going,” he said with a sigh. “It’s a process. It always is, but even more so with one arm.”

“At least it’s your left.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I cursed myself. Because we were both now thinking about Dare and his damaged right hand. Shit. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Rex’s voice was gentle. “It’s okay, Ree.” He paused and I glanced over at him. “You wanna know?”

I nodded, my eyes wide. Yes, fuck it all, I wanted to know. No matter how much it hurt.

“He’s…okay. He’s been going to physical therapy, doing exercises, and still wearing a splint. He’s getting his range of motion back bit by bit. He’s planning to get back to the canvas this week.”

I’d been holding my breath the whole time he’d been talking, and now that he was done I released it, pressing my tongue hard against my teeth as I forced the tears back down. I was so freaking relieved that he was getting back to painting—I hadn’t even realized how stressed I’d been about it.

“I’m…that’s really great to hear,” I said, then turned back to the stove, and poured the pasta into the boiling water.

Rex touched my shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute. There’s something I want to show you.”

Melting the butter and mixing in the flour, I tried to focus on the sauce and not Dare. Which was virtually impossible because all I could think about was the first time I’d made this sauce with him and the things he’d said and done to me.

My heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

The door to Rex’s studio opened.

Without even turning around, I said, “You know, if there’s something you want me to see in your studio, I can come out there as soon as I put this in the oven.”

He didn’t respond.

“Rex?” I glanced over my shoulder.

But Rex wasn’t standing there.

Dare was.

eleven

M
y knees went weak at the sight of him, my vision blurred. The wooden spoon dropped out of my hand, spattering sauce all over the floor.

“What…?” I swallowed hard, hands shaking, chest aching, my whole body feeling pulled toward Dare with a force greater than gravity.

But I stayed rooted in place, not sure of what his appearance meant.

He was looking at me like he was just as tortured by my nearness as I was by his. Frozen, we stared at each other, but then he came forward, opening a drawer to pull out another spoon, and then reaching around me toward the stove.

“You’re burning the sauce.” His lips were right next to my ear, his arms practically wrapped around me so he could reach the pan. Unable to keep from touching him, I leaned into him, feeling the hard length of his body pressing into mine.

His muscles stiffened, and he shuddered against me.

Turning my head to look up into his stormy eyes, I breathed him in, wishing I could drown in his scent as I tried to make sense of what the hell was going on. Why had he shown up all of a sudden? Was he finally willing to accept help?

Please, please let him have come to his senses.

“Why are you…I don’t…” God, I sounded like an idiot. Just say it, already. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned down, his breath brushing my cheek, spreading warmth across it like color on canvas. “I can’t stay away, Ree.”

His words left me breathless. “Then don’t,” I said in a throaty voice I barely recognized.

I moved without thinking, pulling him toward me, crashing his lips to mine. He claimed me, his mouth hard and wanting, his tongue meeting mine, licking and tasting as if he were discovering me for the very first time.

I heard the spoon clattering on the stovetop, and then he was pinning me tightly against the wall of muscle that was his body. He left my mouth and kissed his way down my neck, hungrily moaning my name over and over again, making my skin tingle. I let my head fall back, for a brief instant allowing Dare to take over all my thoughts, completely losing myself in him.

I’d missed him so fucking much, craved the feel of his lips, ached to have his arms wrapped around me, dreamed of hearing his voice. His presence had the power to leave me senseless, his kisses blew my mind. I wanted to just give in to him, to surrender to the sensations I’d been missing since we’d said goodbye in Amsterdam.

But something nagged at the back of my mind, refusing to let go.

Placing my hands on his chest, I pushed away from him, my whole body screaming at me for stopping the kaleidoscope of sensations spurred on by his touch.

This was more important.

“What is this?” I waved my hand back and forth between us. “Are you back? Is that why you’re here?”

His face hardened and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said as he slipped his fingers into my waistband and pulled me hard against him. “I miss you.”

“It DOES matter.” I thrust away from him, feeling anger stir deep within my chest. “Are you going to let me help?”

Gaze like granite, he shook his head once.

Over Dare’s shoulder I saw Rex round the corner. He halted when he saw us, his eyes growing wide.

I glared up at Dare. “
Fine
. You know where the door is.”

I shoved him away from me as hard as I could and ran out of the kitchen, into the studio, taking the stairs two at a time, tripping over my bag and banging my shin against the steps in the process. Cursing all the way up to my apartment, I swung the door shut behind me with as much force as I could.

When I didn’t hear it slam, I turned to find Dare in its way.

“Get. Out.” I spat each word at him.

In a few quick strides, he was across the room, reaching for me. “Ree—”