Chapter 17
W ham!
Ghost tried to dodge Mila’s foot, but it struck him in the shoulder. Christ, she could kick better than any boxer he’d seen.
She’d changed into the black sports bra and shorts she’d worn the night she tried to kill him. The outfit showed off every curve of her sculpted body, making him want her all over again. Sweat glistened on her skin, and strands of hair escaped from her ponytail.
She threw a jab and he caught her fist. Laughing, he spun her around so her back hit his chest. “You’re getting tired.”
She slammed her foot down on his and swung her elbow into his ribs. He barked out a cough of regret as she pivoted from his hold. She planted her feet in front of him, her fists raised to her face. “Not even close.”
He panted and rubbed his side. “You’re gonna pay for that. When I catch you, those shorts are coming off.” He lunged for her and she squeaked, leaping out of his reach.
He snickered as he chased her around the room. One minute she was a sassy badass, the next she gave him a thrilling pursuit.
“Ghost, if you touch these shorts, you’re going to be wearing them when I’m done with you!” She ducked under his squat rack.
Not the best move. Now he had her backed against the windows.
“I mean it!”
He closed in on her, unable to hide his grin as she shrieked. She swung for his jaw but he ducked and caught her lips with his, gently pressing her against the window. Her body softened. The smell of her sweat mixed with his own.
Peeling his mouth away, he dragged his fingers down her arm. “I won.”
She pursed her lips. “You play dirty.”
“Always.”
She laughed, then pulled the too-big gloves from her hands. “That was a good workout. I need a shower, though.”
He reached for his glass of water on the nearby shelf and chugged it. “Me too,” he said, as he wiped his mouth.
She drank from her own glass and leaned against the mirror. “We went pretty hard. That was like ninety minutes of activity.”
A normal workout for him, but she’d kept pace. Actually, she had more stamina than some of the guys. “You did good. Almost kicked my ass, but not quite.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Considering I recently went almost two days without food, little water, and fought hypothermia, I think I’d beat you without breaking a sweat on a good day.”
His stomach twisted at the reminder of how their time here had started. The shop, her falling down the hill and then through the river—it now seemed like a bad movie. He caught her beneath her chin. “Next time, I won’t let you win.”
She stuck out her tongue. He bent to kiss her lips. She met his mouth but pressed her hand to his chest before he could taste her more.
“Slow down. I need to wash off all this sweat.”
He jerked his head. “Let’s head up.”
She eyed him watchfully as she turned for the door. He swept his fingers between her ass cheeks and she laughed and swatted his hand.
“God, are you constantly horny?”
“Apparently,” he muttered.
He hadn’t always been like this. Usually, sex once or twice with the same woman and he was good and ready to move on to the next. Mila had a different effect on him. One he sensed he’d never tire of.
They showered together and he managed to keep his dick in check. She got out first, and he heard her brushing her teeth. A minute later the bathroom door squeaked shut. He quickly finished, grabbed his toothbrush, and was ready for bed a few minutes later.
His muscles still burned from their workout. He exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.
Mila sat on the bed, one foot curled under her, his T-shirt the only thing covering her.
He marched to the dresser and took out clean boxer briefs. After hanging his towel, he joined a smirking Mila in bed. “What?” he asked.
She stretched out to lie down. “Oh, just wondering if you plan to handcuff me tonight.”
“Don’t give me ideas, woman.” He clicked off the bedside lamp.
Darkness cocooned the room. She got beneath the covers and shifted closer to him, resting her head next to his and her hand on his shoulder. He lifted her wrist and kissed her fingers.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Mmm,” she answered sleepily.
“Close your eyes, honey. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night,” she said on a yawn.
With Mila’s body in his arms, he slipped into a peaceful sleep.
***
Something shook Mila awake. She frowned and rubbed her eyes. The room was dark except for soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. The fatigue weighing down her eyelids told her she’d slept only a couple of hours.
What had woken her?
Ghost thrashed next to her, his legs kicking and his body tense. “No, I’ll fucking kill you.” His voice was rough with sleep, but his tone rattled her.
He sounded scared but furious... and sad.
“Don’t touch her.” He jumped, and his hand swung as though he were hitting someone. “Evie!”
Worry wrapped around Mila’s spine. “Ghost.” She brought her palm to his cheek.
His skin was cool and clammy, his jaw tight. He snatched her wrist. Hard. He could snap it if he wanted to.
“Ghost!”
He dropped his hold and rolled into a sitting position, dragging his hand through his hair. Mila sat up next to him and rested her hand on his back. His muscles were tight and rigid.
“Are you okay?”
His breath came out irregular. “Yeah.” He turned, and his eyes found her face in the dark. “Did I hurt you?” His voice was pained.
“No,” she said, moving her wrist in slow circles to reassure him.
“Sorry. Don’t know what that was about.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
She wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. “Sounds like you had a bad dream.”
His chest rose and fell rapidly. She waited. The air crackled with unspoken words.
Evie. Another woman. She closed her eyes and chastised herself for her naiveté. Another implied she was his woman, and she most definitely was not, even if he’d claimed her body more than any man ever had. Heat emanated from his skin, and his warm, masculine scent made her want to curl closer.
“Can I get you anything?” Her gentle question seemed to ground him in the here and now.
“No. I’m fine.” He lay on his back, wrapped his arm around her waist, and crushed her into his side.
She curled her hand on his bare chest. His heart pumped against her eardrum.
Curiosity gnawed at her. He didn’t strike her as someone who could be afraid of anything—but something had him rattled. Something from his past. She chewed her lip. Any lingering tiredness was long gone. A burning need to learn what demons haunted Ghost had her wide awake.
“Who’s Evie?” she whispered.
His pec flexed beneath her palm. “No one.”
She sighed. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m just... concerned, I guess. I don’t mean to pry.”
He rested his hand on her wrist. “You aren’t prying.”
Swallowing, she stayed silent. He knew so much about her—everything—and he was still a mystery to her. But she couldn’t force trust.
She moved her face closer to the crook of his neck. “Try to go back to sleep.”
His fingers absently tapped the back of her hand. “Evie was my stepsister.” His voice was jagged and gravelly. He exhaled a long breath. “My mom dated her father for a few years. He ran off. Left Evie with my mom.”
So not a love interest. Relief loosened her muscles, but her heart ached at the sadness in his voice. “How old was she?”
He scrubbed his hand over his forehead. “Five when he left. I was fifteen.”
Mila pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She wanted to know more about his mom and Evie. God, she wanted to know about fifteen-year-old Ghost. But she didn’t have a right to ask. “That must have been hard for you. Learning to be a big brother at that age.”
“Nah. Evie was a sweetheart. I loved her. She was the only sibling I had.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “For a while, she was the only real family I had.”
She tilted her head to study him. The moonlight illuminated his face. A muscle in his jaw jumped. He was holding back. Anger or memories? Probably both.
“What happened?” she asked, before she was able to stop herself.
She kept her focus on his face. His gaze became distant, and he tightened his arm around her.
Seconds stretched.
A chill puckered the skin on her shoulder. Whatever had happened to Evie was part of what had made Ghost the ruthless man he was today. She hugged him closer, wishing she could wipe away his past. “I’m sorry,” she blurted.
Sorry she’d asked. Sorry he held all this in. Sorry they were both so emotionally fucked.
His fingers gently stroked her shoulder. “Don’t be sorry. You didn’t hurt her.”
Tears hit her eyes. She didn’t want to hear about a hurt little girl. Couldn’t tolerate how close it hit to home...
Her throat tightened. “Who did?” The question wobbled from her lips.
Ghost’s breath rasped through his nose. “Honey, I don’t think we should talk about this. It’s too fucking heavy.”
She propped herself up and rested her arm across his abdomen, placing her face inches from his. Her hair fell onto his shoulder. She stared into the depths of his gray eyes. Whatever secret he had locked away was enough to torture this strong, dangerous man.
If she were smart, she’d take his cue and let the conversation rest.
But she couldn’t.
“We can drop the subject if you want. But don’t do it because you’re worried about me. I want to know what made you so angry in your sleep.”
He blinked, stunned. “Did I say something?”
She nodded. “You said, ‘Don’t touch her’ and ‘I’ll fucking kill you.’”
His lip curled. “I wish I could go back twenty-plus years and do that.”
“To who?” she whispered.
His fingers lifted distractedly and combed through her strands. “Richie Burrows.”
A knot formed at the base of her throat. She swallowed but it didn’t move. “Who—?”
“My mom’s boyfriend.” His jaw rocked. “She started dating him a year or so after Evie’s dad left. He was a fucking bastard.”