Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
W ilder didn’t wait to kiss Bex. He had thought he was dreaming when he awoke to Bex sitting next to him, gently pushing the hair from his face. She looked beautiful. She looked as if she belonged in his condo with him. He’d give anything to wake up to this view every morning.
However, he also knew that she was battling conflicting feelings. The feelings she had for him versus the sense of duty to her job. He could tell during their conversations that she was as interested in him as he was in her. Yet, she regularly mentioned how important her job was to her. It’s why he hadn’t pushed the talk from friendly to flirtation like he’d wanted to do. He didn’t want her to have to choose between her job and him so soon upon meeting.
Was it love at first sight? No. But it was something. Something that made Wilder feel nervous excitement when she smiled at him. Something that caused his body to feel exhilarated when they touched. Something that demanded he protect her. Cherish her. Care for her. Nurture her. Something intrinsic in his DNA that recognized Bex and wanted more. Love? Not yet. But it was definitely more than lust or a passing interest. And he wanted to find out how deep those feelings went.
Wilder’s lips softly grazed Bex’s in a whisper of a kiss. He paused, giving her time to pull away. He didn’t want anything she didn’t want. He wanted to make sure she knew that he’d wait, he’d jump through the hoops, he’d prove himself because he wanted to be worthy of her.
Bex didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned forward and a victorious rush of energy surged through him, heating his heart, lips, and cock. He let her take the lead in the kiss. He was afraid if he let loose the tight control of his feelings, he would have her pinned under him on the couch in a second.
“Mmm.” The throaty moan Bex made tested his restraint as he slowly deepened the kiss. She moaned again, her tongue exploring his mouth and her hands now on his chest as she pushed him back onto the couch. She used her position above him to take control of the kiss and Wilder was there for it. He let his hands drop from her cheek and curve around her back, pulling her closer to him.
His brothers had talked about it being “different” with their wives. It hadn’t made sense then, but it was starting to now. This was only a kiss and it was blowing Wilder’s whole world up.
“Wilder.”
“Yes, sweetheart?” Wilder asked against her lips. Anything she wanted would be hers.
Bex pulled her lips away. They were red and swollen. Her eyes were slightly glassy and her cheeks were flushed. “What did you say?”
“You said my name.”
Bex was shaking her head as a knock on the door sounded. “Wilder, come on. Open up. It’s Peter.”
Bex’s eyes went wide as she looked down at herself. The matronly dress she’d been wearing had ridden up to her thighs after she climbed on top of him during their kiss.
“Be right there,” Wilder called out, but he didn’t move for the door. He reached up and brushed the cutest errant curl from Bex’s face. “That was—”
“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t—”
Wilder cupped her cheeks even as he began to shake his head. “The word sorry has no place in the experience we both shared. I’m not sorry. That was the best kiss of my life. I know you have no reason to believe me. But Bex, that was special to me. Peter can wait if you want to kiss me again because I want to make it crystal clear—you can kiss me anytime, anywhere, sweetheart.” He loved the way Bex’s lips turned up into a smile. She was glowing and all he wanted to do was kiss her again.
“Come on, Wilder. I have things to do today.” Peter was getting annoyed, but he’d feel annoyed too if Wilder interrupted him and his girlfriend, Kerri, kissing.
“We should get that.” Bex stood up and Wilder let her go. Then she looked back at him, her cheeks getting a little pinker as she looked down at him. “Because then we can get back to kissing.”
Wilder shot up from the couch. “You sure do know how to motivate me.” Wilder opened the door and found Peter standing there with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow arched. “FBI Agent in Charge Peter Castle. Peter, meet Detective Bexley Moretti, NYPD.”
Peter might give Wilder crap, but he was the ultimate professional as he shook Bex’s hand and welcomed her to Charleston, even if it was under these circumstances. “Granger said there’s trouble. Why don’t you explain it to me, detective?”
Wilder sat back as Bex instantly went into cop mode. He’d seen Granger and Peter do it, but it was strange to see the woman he’d first met as a civilian start spouting out law enforcement terms and acronyms. Wilder watched as Peter took notes, nodded, and asked questions.
“Is this going to be an issue for you?” Bex asked. She sat at attention and didn’t look away from Peter as if he were her commanding officer.
“What? You being here?”
“That and the fact that you might be going against the New York DA and police commissioner.”
Peter smirked. “Nah, that’s not a problem. I’ve gone after a lot of people from my little office here in Charleston—from the CIA to Nazi art thefts to gangs. A corrupt DA is nothing. I think the better question is how are we going about proving it? I think the first thing I need to do is be in contact with your bureau chief and this Detective Caldwell. That will help make it an official investigation. I’ll keep it dark—no official paperwork—because of the sensitive suspects. I know who to contact for approval in D.C. about that. We don’t want New York picking up on where you might be or that we are onto them. Though I don’t see how the DA thinks he can get away with this.”
“Olivia says so far the evidence is circumstantial,” Wilder told him since he’d asked Olivia the same thing. “We need a smoking gun.”
“Big fish tend to think they can get away with anything. Politics alone through history has shown us that. Lucky for us, that means getting evidence is sometimes easier than we think.” Peter stood up and held his hand back out with a business card in it. “Call me at any time and I’ll be in touch with updates. Plus, I’m assuming you’re heading to Shadows Landing, so I’ll see you there too. My girlfriend lives there,” he explained to Bex.
“I’m excited to see it. Wilder told me all about it. I have to admit, I can’t really picture what he’s describing though.” Bex had questioned him endlessly about the motorized scooters and BBQ wars.
Peter chuckled. “It’s definitely something you have to see to believe.”
Wilder walked Peter out and thanked him for coming. When he turned back around, Bex was slumped on the couch yawning. “How about I order dinner in tonight? Ever had shrimp and grits?”
He laughed when Bex didn’t look convinced. “I like shrimp, but I can’t say I ever had grits.”
“Well, these grits are smothered with cheese and this really good gravy. There’s also sausage in it. I was hesitant, but it’s my favorite now. There’s also good barbeque, she-crab soup, which is kind of like a lobster bisque, and tons of seafood. Does any of that sound good?” Wilder asked.
Bex’s stomach rumbled and she laughed. The sound made him feel that pent-up excited feeling again. He wished he could make her smile and laugh all day. “It all sounds good, but I’m really hungry so maybe more than just soup. If you like the shrimp and grits, let’s give it a try.”
Bex groaned as she took another bite of her shrimp and grits. The cheese. The slightly spiced gravy, the sausage . . . it all combined into one perfect bite. “I’ve never tasted anything like this before.”
She sat cross-legged on the couch, eating her dinner while wearing one of Wilder’s T-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants that were so large she’d had to roll them at the waist and they still tried to fall off. Even the local craft beer she drank with it somehow brought out even more taste.
“Told you there wasn’t anything like this in New York. The food and the people are my favorite things about Charleston.” Wilder took another bite of his food as he leaned against the couch’s arm. “What’s your favorite food in the city?”
“Hands down, the stuffed shells at my third cousin’s restaurant. His whole family works there and it’s all old-timey traditional Italian recipes that were brought over from Italy when they immigrated in the eighteen hundreds.”
“Now I need the name. That sounds delicious.”
Bex finished the entire meal and yawned. “Come on,” Wilder told her as he stood up and cleared the plates. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Bex helped clean up and then grabbed the blanket on the back of the couch. “Do you have an extra pillow?”
“Sweetheart, you’re not sleeping on the couch. Take the bed.”
Bex looked back to the bedroom and then to the couch. “There’s only one bed.”
“I know. I’ll sleep on the couch. You take the bed.”
Bex was already shaking her head. Wilder would be crammed on the couch. Plus, he’d been up for a day and a half except for the twenty-minute nap while she’d showered. “I’m shorter than you. I’ll take the couch.”
Wilder stopped in front of her and took the blanket from her. “You’d have to break every gentlemanly bone in my body. Now, go.” He bent his head and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bex. Sweet dreams.”
Bex wasn’t going to let this go. She was more stubborn than he knew. So, she headed to the bedroom and took in the king-sized bed. It was plenty big enough for the two of them. She appreciated his attempt at being chivalrous, but she didn’t need to be rescued from the danger of sharing a bed with a man. Bex kicked off the sweatpants she was wearing and climbed into bed. She got settled in, pulled up her covers, and yelled, “Wilder!”
In seconds Wilder was at the door wearing nothing but a pair of gray joggers and looking as if he were ready to defend her from whatever was upsetting her. “Is everything okay?”
Bex shook her head. “No, it’s not. This bed is so big that I won’t be able to sleep in it. Either join me, or it’ll be your fault that I’ll be up all night and won’t get a wink of sleep tossing and turning in this big, empty bed.”
“Are you coercing me, sweetheart?”
Bex yanked down the covers and patted the pillow. “No, I’m using the time honored tradition of guilt trips passed down from one generation of Italian mothers to the next. Resistance is futile. Get your ass in bed.” Bex felt victorious when Wilder grinned and shook his head in defeat.
“Fine, but I’m not agreeing to any of that sleep on top of the covers crap. And don’t even think about making a pillow wall. If you want me in bed with you, you just have to admit it.”
Wilder arched an eyebrow in challenge. Bex didn’t like losing, but damn, he was in those gray joggers that left nothing to the imagination. Tearing her eyes from the bulge in his joggers and up to the muscled chest and abs that she really, really wanted to touch. Maybe he’d buy it that she was a sleep fondler—it’s like a sleepwalker except you fondle obscenely sexy men.
“I want you to sleep in bed with me, Wilder. That way I can protect you if anyone breaks in.”
Wilder surprised her with a bark of laughter. “I’d love to see you try.”
Bex raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You don’t think I could do it? You do know I’m a cop, right? It’s literally my job to protect people.”
Wilder slid into bed and she instantly felt the sexual tension ratchet up a notch when he rolled onto his side to look her in the eye. “I know you can do it. But if you think I’m a rogue in distress waiting for my damsel to rescue me, you have grossly underestimated my desire to protect you. I may not be a trained cop but don’t be fooled by my easy-going manner. I know how to fight and fight dirty.”
Bex blinked. Suddenly, she saw shoes in her mind’s eye. Heard the punches land. Saw a flash of the fierce look on Wilder’s face from the alley. She glanced down at his hand and saw the slight redness of his knuckles. “I remember you coming for me,” she said as if she were still zoned out on GHB. “I remember your shoes as I glanced from where I was on the ground. I remember hearing the punches.” Bex reached out and took his hand in hers and slowly brought her lips to kiss his knuckles.
“I wouldn’t let a man hurt a woman, but especially you,” he said gruffly.
Bex looked up from where she was holding her lips to his hand. “I appreciate what you did, but the next one is all mine.” Then she winked at him and turned off the lights while he chuckled.
“Wanna bet?”
“You’d have to tie me down to stop me,” Bex said, rolling over to look at him.
“I’d love to, sweetheart.” Bex was grateful for the dark when she blushed. She felt Wilder move and then felt his arm reaching around her and pulling her against him. “But for tonight, you need to rest. We’ll talk about our sex life tomorrow.”
“We don’t have a sex life!” But Bex went willingly into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest.
“Patience, sweetheart. Let me be the gentleman you deserve.” Bex opened her mouth to tell him to stop teasing her but closed it when Wilder placed a kiss on her head. “Sweet dreams.”
Wilder fell asleep almost instantly, but Bex didn’t. Wilder was acting the gentleman. She’d thought it was because she couldn’t be his type, but was he really just showing her that he was worthy of her? Her? A cop from Brooklyn? The idea of someone like Wilder Townsend interested in her romantically was laughable. Yet, there was a reason Bex wasn’t laughing. He seemed so sincere in protecting her. Almost as if she was his.
Bex fell asleep dreaming of a world where she and Wilder could be together. It might just be the best dream she’d ever had.