Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The shrill cry of his phone stopped Jake just when he was preparing to pound on the guest room door. He’d been trying to figure out a way to apologize. Shocker, apologies weren’t his strong suit.
Not apologies.
Not tact.
Not charm.
Eb excelled at all of that crap.
Again, Jake’s skill set focused in the realm of being a world-class dick. He normally loved to tell the rest of the world to fuck off. But this wasn’t the rest of the world. This was Wren. He knew when an apology was necessary, and he?—
His phone rang again.
He hauled it out of his pocket. Glared at the screen. But answered. Because it was— “Milo.” A sigh. “Let me guess, Honey called you?” Like he didn’t know those two were involved? Please. Biggest open secret ever. He’d once caught them making out in the back of the hardware store. “Wren is fine. Anyone who wants to hurt her will have to go through me.”
“Damn straight they will,” Milo’s slightly scratchy voice returned. “Wren needs you.”
“Yeah, I’m right here. Not going anywhere.” Right there, in front of her closed bedroom door. Trying to wrap his head around the fact that she wasn’t tied to his brother. That there was no reason why he could not have the woman he wanted most in the whole world.
“No, dumbass, she needs you now. You don’t have eyes on her, do you?”
He blinked. “She’s sleeping.” He leaned closer to the door. Was that the blast of the shower? “Showering,” he corrected.
“She’s not all right.”
The fuck she wasn’t. “She’s safe in my home. Nothing will happen to her.” A vow. Then, a new thought, “Milo, are you having some kind of episode?”
“ Get to Wren. Don’t let her be alone.”
“Uh, she’s safe.” She’d also made it pretty clear that she did not want him near her that night. No one-bed situation, check. His fantasies would wait.
“She’s crying.”
The snapped words iced right through him.
“Take care of that shit,” Milo ordered. The guy hung up. No other explanation. No pleasantries. True story, Milo had a talent for being a world-class dick, too.
Jake frowned at his phone. Then he frowned at the door. Then…screw it. He clutched the phone with his left hand while his right grabbed for the doorknob. The knob twisted in his grasp, and he threw the door open. Jake rushed into the bedroom. “Do not cry—” he began.
Her tears would wreck him.
But Wren wasn’t in the room crying. She wasn’t in the bed. Wasn’t there at all.
Then the bathroom door squeaked open. His head automatically whipped that way in time to see Wren step forward. Steam drifted around her. Her wet hair slid over her shoulders, and a fluffy, white towel wrapped around her body.
She stared at him. Quirked a brow. “Lost?”
He’d been lost for years. Speech currently eluded him as he took in the vision right the hell there. Wren. In a towel. Still wet.
“It’s your house. You should really know by now which room is yours and which one…is being used by your only guest.”
He damn well did know. “I…Milo told me to check on you.”
“Unnecessary. I’m fine. You know Uncle Milo is a worrier.”
Was he? Jake stalked closer to her. The fact that the woman of his dreams was wearing only a towel didn’t exactly make it hard to get close.
Want to touch. Want to taste. Want to take.
And it would be so easy to tug at the towel edge she’d tucked between those beautiful breasts.
Except…
His gaze sharpened on her face. “Have you been crying?”
“I’ve been in the shower. Didn’t dry off thoroughly because I heard someone breaking into my room.”
“That wasn’t a yes or a no answer, so, let me repeat. Have you been crying?”
Her lips pressed together.
His stare dipped down the graceful length of her throat. “You took off the bandage.”
“I was showering. The cut isn’t bleeding anymore so…”
It was red. Angry. But, no, not bleeding.
“I cleaned it. I needed to get all the sand off me. Thus, a quick shower. No big mystery here, Jake. You can go to your room.”
Yeah, he should leave. Every minute there made the temptation he felt for her just grow stronger. He nodded. Turned away. Except… “You don’t have to act tough in front of me. It’s okay to be scared. Or to cry. It was really one hell of a night, Wren. A night like this would be hard on someone like you.”
Silence.
Check. She did not want to talk. Not like he was good at getting people to open up.
That was why he just took the high-risk missions. Did the most dangerous retrievals. Why he got rid of problems that others couldn’t handle.
Rinse, repeat. Why my life is lived in the dark. He didn’t get close to others, and other people tended to not want to get close to him.
He marched for the still open door. The phone remained gripped in his left hand.
“Someone like me…” Her musing words had him pausing. “I guess that means the, ah, activities wouldn’t be hard on you, huh? Just another night in the exciting life of Jacob Jones?”
Having her in danger hardly qualified as just another night for him.
“I do have to ask, though, just what do you know about me ?” An edge very much like anger had entered her voice.
Oh, just about everything. “I’m pretty much a Wren expert.” Probably not something he should confess, but, too late. He’d just done it.
“I don’t think so.”
He pushed the phone into his pocket. Turned back toward her. Sucked in the side of his cheek.
“I don’t think you know me very well at all,” Wren told him.
So wrong. She was his obsession. He knew all the important details about Wren. All the unimportant ones, too. He knew?—
“After all, you thought I was fucking your brother. Wrong, wrong, wrong.”
Okay, that was a direct hit. He had been wrong on that score. Something Jake wished that he’d discovered long ago. “I caught you kissing him on our eighteenth birthday.” Talk about the worst birthday ever. “Then the next morning, you were coming out of his room, wearing his shirt.” Did his voice roughen?
It did. The memory still pissed him off. He’d thought that Eb fucked Wren that night. Again, worst birthday ever. He cleared his throat. “Some women like screwing around with twins. Eb and I have gotten…offers like that before.”
“Probably because you’re both hot as hell.”
He blinked.
She shrugged. The towel strained.
Sweet torture.
“We kissed at the big eighteenth birthday party,” Wren confirmed. “You two had invited half the town.”
Probably more than half. Eb had always loved to party. And it hadn’t just been an eighteenth birthday party. It had been an eighteenth birthday party, a high school graduation celebration, and an unsupervised weekend all at the same time—the trifecta. That trifecta had equaled bliss in Eb’s mind. It had been a pain in the ass for Jake.
“I had my first glass of champagne,” she recalled. “I spilled champagne all over my shirt—that happened when I opened the bottle in order to get that big, exciting first taste.” She ticked things off quickly. “Because I was a mega lightweight when it came to all things alcohol, I fell asleep on the floor of Eb’s room. Then, bright and early the next day, I snuck out of his room because I didn’t want anyone to find us and get the wrong idea. But I guess you got the wrong idea no matter what, didn’t you?”
He…
Fuck. He’d been too furious to ask questions. It had taken all of his control not to beat the hell out of his brother. Hello, jealousy.
She took a step toward him. “I’ll say again, you don’t know me.”
“I do.”
“Prove it.” A dare.
Fine. He was up to the challenge. “You like your eggs scrambled. Your favorite color is black. You dance in the rain.”
Her chin notched up a bit. “What else are you supposed to do in the rain? It’s made for dancing. Everyone knows that.”
No, everyone did not. That was Wren logic. He advanced on her. “Your favorite holiday is Halloween.”
“Of course. I’ve always liked to pretend I was someone else.”
There was something about her tone… “Wren?”
“While this late-night chat is interesting, it really doesn’t prove much. Surface material, that’s what you know about me. You don’t know the real me. Deep down, beneath the skin. But I know you, Jake. I know you so very well.”
Then she surprised the hell out of him because she closed the distance between them. She stopped right in front of him. So close that he could feel the heat from her body.
“Want me to prove it?” Wren asked.
He nodded.
“You don’t do long relationships. Because you’re not the happily-ever-after type, are you, Jake? Your sister Marley, she is. I was at the wedding, after all. Saw her and all her bliss not too long ago.”
He knew that Wren had been there. She’d been a freaking bridesmaid, for shit’s sake. Hard to miss her. And when she’d come down that aisle, stunningly gorgeous in the cascading blue dress with a bouquet of pink roses in her hand…
No. Do not go there.
“You fuck and you walk away. And you look for the next big adrenaline rush. You don’t let people get close because you don’t think you can get close to people. You think people won’t like what they find lurking inside of you.”
His feet had rooted to the spot.
“Eb flashes his smile, and he charms the world. Surface,” she breathed. “That’s why Eb and I get along so well. We were both always so good at putting on that fake surface to make people think we’re normal.”
What in the hell? She was normal.
Wren rose onto her toes. Curled her fingers around his shoulders.
He bent toward her.
Her mouth went to his ear. “I always liked you, though, because you didn’t give a damn about the surface. You are dark and dangerous. Intense. Brooding. With an edge that can cut like a knife. There will never be anything safe about you.”
He felt the edge of her sexy little tongue lick against his ear. “Don’t play with me, Wren.” He was far past that point.
“Why not?” She eased back so that she stared up at him once more. Those dark, deep eyes were on him. Seeing into him. “Why can’t I play? At least, a little bit. After all, you were ever-so-wrong about me. You can say you’ve been keeping your hands off me because of Eb…”
“I was. I don’t fucking share with my brother.” And if Jake ever crossed that line, if he took Wren…
I would fight my brother for her. I would wreck the world for her.
Something he had long understood in that deep, dark part of himself that she seemed to know all about.
“Such a convenient story. The real truth is that you’ve been keeping your hands off me because you thought I was the good girl.”
She was good. With a smile that had always lit up the room. Kind words. Sweet deeds. The person who never hurt anyone’s feelings. The one who’d always made room at the table when someone needed a seat. Hell, Wren usually gave up her seat for other people. He distinctly remembered one damn time in high school when he’d caught her standing by the edge of the cafeteria table because Makayla Lane had transferred in, and the other girl hadn’t known anyone. The table had been filled to overflowing by their group, but Wren had still brought Makayla right in.
And stood to the side.
He’d barked for some of the asshole guys to make room because Wren needed a place to eat. Dumbasses had jumped fast enough for him.
“I’m not what you believe me to be.” Her hand went to the knot of the towel.
He forgot all about high school. Stupid cafeteria tables. He just thought about what she would look like beneath that towel.
“No matter how hard I try, I will never be good.” Husky. Sensual. She unhooked that knot. Let the towel go. It fell to the floor at her feet. “So how about we be bad together?”