Chapter 16
The house was dark and quiet. Too quiet. The ticking of the clock fractured Tim’s nerves, and he tried to meter his breathing to match it. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago.
He could make the call now. No one would ever know, not his sister, not Denny. Not that pompous, self-righteous do-gooder Jude.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. Soon, he told himself. He’d get off the bed and call Elton Pascal soon.
A drink would help. The stocked bar wasn’t that far from his room. A few shots of liquid courage—that’s what he needed. The bed squeaked as Tim sat up, almost stopping his heart, making his skin go cold with goose bumps.
Jesus, he couldn’t go on like this. He wanted to sleep in his own bed without worrying about who might hear him move. He wanted to come and go as he pleased. He wanted to have some fun.
What other choice did he have except to call Pascal? If he didn’t do something, tomorrow May would force them to leave, and then he’d be vul nerable again. May didn’t understand because she wasn’t the one who’d gotten beaten and threatened. She wasn’t the one having to tiptoe around.
Denny and Jude didn’t understand because they had specialized training. Earlier, they’d shown him some live demonstrations, sparring with each other in easy camaraderie. For either of them, it’d be simple to disable a man. They knew moves that were quick and fluid, and unstoppable.
Tim wanted to learn.
But then he thought of Jude’s confidence, how easy the bastard made it look, and disdain burned in his gut. Sure Jude was good. And why not? He’d had everything handed to him. Looks, strength. One of the best trainers in the world now worked as his fucking lapdog, cooking, cleaning, playing doorman.
And Denny seemed to love it.
He bragged about Jude the way a father should—the way Tim’s father had never bragged about him.
Tim grunted. All he ever got was criticism. Sometimes sympathy. He got the stupid car dealership that he hated. He got slapped on the back, and he got expectations that were impossible to fulfill.
But pride? No, he had no idea how it’d feel to make someone like Denny proud.
Watching them while they sparred had been…exhilarating. They’d gone at it hard. They’d dripped sweat and strained, and watching them, Tim had wanted to join in.
But he didn’t dare.
He was afraid to take the chance.
Denny and Jude didn’t make excuses. If one of them made a mistake, they shook it off, cursed, and tried again.
If he tried, they’d laugh at him, and he knew it.
Not that Denny had laughed while instructing him, but that was different. Denny had a gruff way of insulting that almost sounded like a compliment. When he smacked Tim in the head, it hurt, but it didn’t feel mean. It didn’t reek of disappointment. He liked Denny well enough.
But Jude was another matter.
Mr. Perfect was probably off boning his traitorous sister right about now. And even though May knew the situation, she encouraged Jude. She didn’t really care about Tim. She just liked giving him hell, telling him all the ways that he fell short.
Fuck them both.
This time when Tim rose off the bed, his anger concealed the squeak of the mattress. He opened his door. Moonlight and the glow of outside security lamps came through every window, lighting the way. Wearing only his underwear, he crept across the floor, looking around every few seconds, just in case anyone showed up.
Sweat dampened his palms and the middle of his back by the time he leaned against the polished mahogany surface of the bar. The need for a drink had him breathing hard. He could already taste it, feel the burn as it slid down his throat and into his belly. He could almost smell it, too. His chest labored, and he licked his lips.
Sliding around behind the bar, he cautiously searched the shelves. And found nothing.
Where the hell was it?
A little sick, he searched some more, opening empty cabinets and drawers. It had to be here somewhere.
A light came on, blinding him, scaring him spit-less.
“Not tonight, Tim. Get your ass back to bed.”
Shielding his eyes against the glare, Tim straightened, and there stood Denny, face expressionless, body relaxed.
“Why the hell aren’t you in bed? Are you spying on me?”
Shaking his head, Denny started toward him.
Jesus. Tim backed up and butted into the glass shelves, causing a clatter. He hadn’t meant to shout. Not at Denny, for crying out loud. But every nerve in his body now twitched in need. He’d counted on that drink.
Denny stopped in front of him. “Come out from behind there before you break something.”
Wary, Tim tried to decide if Denny hid his anger, or if he really was that controlled. He didn’t necessarily look mad. Annoyed, sure, but then he’d gone off to bed hours ago, and he couldn’t be happy about being awakened.
With an impatient wave of his hand, Denny said, “Come on. Quit cowering back there. I’m not going to kick your ass.”
Amazing how that relieved some of the tension.
“But,” Denny added, his tone sympathetic, “I’m not going to let you drink, either.”
“I was looking for a bottle of water,” Tim lied.
“No, son. You have a problem.” Denny scratched at his bristly chin, then yawned, as if they discussed nothing more important than the weather. “But I’m a problem solver, so the drinking is over.”
The drinking is over. Panic edged in around Tim. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The booze is all gone. I got rid of it. Not a single drop in the entire house.”
Disbelieving, Tim laughed. No one would throw away good liquor. It had to be around somewhere, probably hidden. But when Denny didn’t join in the humor, Tim’s jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me?”
“Nope.”
Goddamnit. “This is May’s doing, isn’t it?” Too angry to be cautious, Tim pushed past Denny, intent on a tirade. “She put you up to it, didn’t she? She’s always playing high and mighty, the bitch— oof.”
A fist locking in his hair yanked Tim off balance. He fell onto his ass and found Denny leaning over him, keeping his head bent back, his position awkward.
His lips barely moving, Denny growled, “You won’t talk about any woman that way, especially not your sister. Do you understand me?”
Did everyone have to abuse him? Tim tried to jerk his head free and probably got a bald patch for his efforts. “Ouch, damn it, let go.”
“Tell me you understand, Tim.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Denny released him. He stood there, arms crossed, posture imposing. He didn’t look disappointed so much as resigned. And determined. “Go on back to bed,” he finally said. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
“In the morning, May’s making us leave.”
“Maybe not. I’ve got my money on Jude.” Denny winked, as if the whole confrontation hadn’t happened. “Now get some rest. And don’t wake me up again, because next time, I will kick your ass.”
He walked off, his departure as silent as his approach. A second later, the lights went out, and Tim sat on the floor in the dark.
Head down, hands fisted, he scrambled to his feet and stomped back into his room, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Bastard,” he fumed under his breath. Where did Denny get off lecturing him on his sister? He didn’t have to put up with May and her bossiness, or he’d understand. “Fuck them all.”
Denny had no right manhandling him. He could be arrested for assault. With his skills, he was practically a lethal weapon.
Pacing the room, Tim continued to smolder. It really burned him that Denny had accused him of having a problem. May told him that shit, he just knew it. Just because she was an uptight prude who didn’t have any friends and never…
Mind made up, Tim crossed the dim room to the chair where he’d left his pants. He felt around until he found his cell phone in a pocket. After he flipped it open, there was only a single moment of hesitation before he dialed information.
It took some effort, and he called a lot of hotels before finding one that could put him through to Elton Pascal’s room. Surely, there couldn’t be two men with that same odd name, not in a ritzy hotel. Not in Ohio.
This had to work.
It wasn’t that he wanted Jude hurt, Tim assured himself. He didn’t. Just because it’d give him some satisfaction to see Jude taken down a notch, that didn’t matter. Given a choice, he didn’t want anyone hurt. But he didn’t have choices. It wasn’t his fault that Jude had made enemies with a psycho. It wasn’t his fault that Jude pissed people off.
“Hello?”
The lurching of his heart into his throat kept
Tim silent for too long, and Elton started to hang up after muttering, “Asshole.”
“Wait.” Tim cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I…”
“What is it? I don’t have all day.”
“Is this Elton Pascal?
“Who the hell’s asking?”
The voice alone made him want to wet his pants. “This is Tim Price.”
“I don’t know any Tim Price,” he snapped. “You’ve got the wrong number.”
“No.” Damn it, spit it out. “I’m…um…I’m living in Jude Jamison’s house.”
Chilling expectation sizzled through the phone line. The tone turned silkier, less impatient. “And why the hell should I care about that?”
He wouldn’t incriminate himself to the wrong person. “I need to know. Is this Elton Pascal?”
“What if it is?”
“Then I can help you.”
A thick laugh of hilarity came through the line. “I seriously doubt that.”
He wasn’t buying it. Tim clutched the phone tighter. He had to convince Elton to take part in the plan. He had to get himself out of this mess. “I can find out things.”
“Yeah?” Elton gave a heavy pause. “What kind of things?”
“I know where Jude goes, what he does.” Sensing Elton’s interest, Tim sought a detail that would matter. “For instance, I know he confronted you at the restaurant today.”
“I see.” Another pause, then, “So tell me, Tim. How did Jude know where to find me? Can you tell me that?”
Relief washed through Tim. “As a matter of fact, I can.”
Muffled whispering and more than one voice led to a chortle. “All right, Tim. We’ll talk. But I don’t like phones.”
“Then how—”
“Tomorrow. We’ll meet tomorrow. Then you can tell me everything you know.”
As May stretched awake, she felt a warm hand move over her backside, pulling her closer. Her eyes popped open, and she found herself staring at a slumbering Jude.
Dark hair mussed, morning whiskers and all, he took her breath away. Some time during the night he had wrapped himself around her with his head near her breast, his mouth less than an inch from her nipple. She felt every brush of his deep, even breathing, stirring emotions within her.
Their legs were entwined. His arm snaked around her, keeping her close, and even in sleep, his hand clasped her behind possessively.
Content just to look at him, to be with him, May saw no reason to wake him up. She studied his face, the way his dark lashes left shadows on his high cheekbones, the shape of his masculine nose, the sensual curve of his mouth, and his stubborn jaw and chin. Few fighters escaped without telltale battle scars, but Jude was as beautiful now as the day he’d first started in the SBC. It was a testament to his skill.
Not that a few scars could have detracted from his good looks. His appeal came as much from within him as from what the world could view.
He looked so peaceful, indefinably different from when awake. Did he carry the memories of the past year with him always, only escaping them in sleep? She wanted to put her arms around him and hold him close, and somehow protect him—odd, given his capabilities and strength of will.
A knock at the door brought his eyes open, and he looked first at her breast before tracking his gaze up to her face. “Morning.” He smiled.
She smiled, too. “Good morning.”
Denny called in, “Hey, you slugs. The day is wastin’ away.”
Jude looked back at her breast, his expression oddly intent, growing heated. His fingers contracted on her cheek. “Go away, Denny.”
“You’ve got packages arriving. Okay to have the driver bring them to the door?”
“Yeah.” His lashes lowered and he burrowed closer. “I expected them. But use care.”
“Will do. Plan on breakfast in an hour.”
“Right.” Jude leaned forward and drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking softly.
Warm and wet, the suction could be felt in her belly and between her legs. May’s breath shuddered. “Jude.”
“Mmmm?” His hand began to wander.
She pushed him away. “I need to…you know.”
He scrutinized her, then realized she wanted a run to the bathroom. “Oh.” He grinned. “Yeah, me, too. But promise you’ll come back to bed naked.”
That sounded like a perfect idea to her. “All right.”
He fell to his back, and May scampered from the bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. She knew Jude watched her every step—and she liked his attention. Within a single minute, time enough to also splash her face and rinse her mouth, she opened the door and found Jude standing there.
“My turn,” he said and went in around her.
May hurried to the bed, climbed in under the covers, and propped herself against the headboard. When Jude came back out, scratching his belly and yawning, she took in the show with utter delight.
“I could get used to this,” she said, and Jude looked up, understanding that she’d become a spectator.
He grinned. “Does that mean you don’t often have naked men strutting around your bedroom?”
“You know I don’t. And even if I did, they wouldn’t be you.”
He came to stand beside the bed, and without warning, whisked away the covers. May screeched and tried to scuttle away, but he caught her around the waist and hauled her back, climbing atop her and pinning her down.
They both laughed as they wrestled, knowing exactly what the outcome would be. Still, May didn’t give up easily, and because Jude treated her with care, it took some doing to finally get her stretched out beneath him, her arms raised high, her legs forced open around his hips.
Panting, laughing, thoroughly aroused, May asked, “How can I tap out if you hold my hands?”
“You don’t get to give up that easy.” He kissed her neck, her throat, down to her breasts. “Besides, I don’t want to get slugged.”
“Why would I slug you?”
He lifted his head, and the smile melted away, replaced with incredible tenderness. He brushed a kiss over her mouth, then her cheek, before saying, “You know what I considered the best part of acting?”
Sensing his seriousness, May quit fighting him. “What?”
“Having money to buy gifts.”
She knew just where this was going, and warned, “I don’t need gifts from you, Jude.”
“Never said you did. I said I enjoyed buying gifts. There’s a big difference between needing and accepting.”
“I won’t accept gifts, either.”
He must have had his own interpretation for that, because he asked, “Have I ever told you how impressed I am with you? Not just your mouthwatering body, and not just your great attitude about life. But your incredible strength.”
That boggled May, and she gave an embarrassed laugh. “Compared to a man who has muscles on his muscles, I’m puny.”
“Emotional strength is a more difficult commodity than physical strength any day. I learned that while going through the trial.”
Thinking of how hurtful it must have been for him made her hurt, too. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
He skimmed over his own emotional strength. “The way you deal with things, how you sort of roll with the punches, has always awed me.”
While the blows he’d suffered had been for public consumption, shown on every news station and printed in every paper, no one really knew of the punches she’d received, not really. But still the compliment filled her heart. Jude was a strong man, so it thrilled her to know he saw her as a strong woman. “I’m happy.”
“I know, and I’m glad. Now, don’t interrupt my story. I want to tell you about the gift I bought my dad.”
“Okay.” She wanted to hear about his family, so she had no complaint with that plan.
“All my life we’d had used cars. Dad kept them running nice, and they were clean other than the usual junk and mud kids bring in after a sporting event or a night at the movies. Big cars, with enough room to accommodate two parents and three kids and a dog. You know, station wagons and roomy sedans.”
“Family cars.”
He smiled. “Yeah, family cars. But I can remember when the family car would die, usually of old age. Mom and Dad would sit at the dining table and go over the bills and figure out how to juggle things so they could get transportation again.”
“That’s not an unpleasant picture.”
“No. They sipped coffee and talked quietly. And they worked things out.”
Why the tears stung her eyes, May couldn’t say. Maybe because she couldn’t recall her parents ever having a quiet time like that. Arguments, sure. The cops had been called to her house more than once, always for domestic disputes that caused her endless embarrassment and fortified her determination to be different.
At least once a month talk of divorce erupted. There were nights when she’d pray it would happen, though she knew it never would. As often as he cheated, and strange as it seemed, her father liked being married. And because her mother had never been independent, she chose to blame anyone and everyone, to feel sorry for herself and insist on help, rather than find a way to stand on her own two feet.
May could recall all the unhappiness, but she couldn’t recall them ever sitting down together to work out a problem.
“When I got my first big chunk of money, I bought Dad this big, bright red truck. Fully loaded. It was really sweet, all detailed out, with a rumbling motor and the coolest wheels I could find. Dad argued with me for a week before he finally accepted it. I even had to show him my bank statements to make him understand that it wasn’t an extravagance for me and wouldn’t leave me broke.”
“He didn’t need gifts from you.” May wiggled, wishing she could touch him, but he still held her stretched out. “He loved you, you loved him, and that was enough.”
An odd expression darkened his blue eyes to midnight. He stared at her, somehow struck by the obvious truth of her words. “That’s almost exactly what he said.” He cleared his throat and forged on with more stories. “For Christmas, I bought my mom a new kitchen.”
That disclosure had May laughing. “A whole kitchen, huh?”
“Yeah. Cabinets, countertops, flooring, appliances—the whole shebang. Unlike Dad, she only blustered about it for a day or so, then she welcomed the designer with open arms and spent a couple of months getting everything just right. Whenever she wanted to order something cheap, to try to cut back on the cost, the designer refused.”
“Only the best for Mom.”
“Exactly.”
“And for your siblings?” May had no doubt that he’d bought them gifts as well.
“They make decent money now themselves, but yeah, there’ve been gifts. A horse for Beth, then later, the land she’d admired but cost too much. She built a nice house there, with outbuildings enough to stable several horses. For my brother it was every audio and video toy imaginable. For a stuntman, Neil’s a real gadget geek.”
“So being able to afford generous gifts is what you liked best about acting?”
“Yeah.”
May didn’t want to ruin the mood, but she sensed his need to talk. “Jude?”
“Hmm?”
“What was the worst part?”
He looked away, and May felt not only the physical disconnection, but the emotional, too. It lasted only a moment, but she hated it. Then he released her wrists, caught her waist, and rolled so that she rested atop him. “You wanna know the truth?”
Finally, she could touch him. She cupped his face and kissed his brow, the bridge of his nose, and his mouth. “Yes, please.”
“The traitors.” As usual, his hands settled on her tush. “The people who believed the bullshit and seemed to enjoy seeing me knocked down a peg.”
“It’s hard for me to imagine anyone who knew you buying into the charge.”
“Yeah, well, invitations quit coming. People steered clear. I’d walk into a room, and there’d be whispers.”
Her heart breaking, May laid her head on his chest and squeezed him tight. “People can be such idiots.”
“You have no idea…” He stopped. In a much quieter, strained voice, he said, “You can’t imagine what it’s like to have the cops come for you. I was in the middle of dinner. I greeted them and invited them in. I asked if they had any news.” He snorted. “The last I’d seen them was to report what had happened. Then suddenly, they were there, reading me my rights, pulling out the handcuffs.”
“They cuffed you?” Incensed on his behalf, May stiffened.
“Yeah, they listed off the charges and I was stunned. I knew I hadn’t done a damn thing, and still, seeing the looks on everyone’s faces, watching the report on the news, I felt guilty. And then there was Pascal, fueling the fire, making false accusations and egging people on.”
“I am so, so sorry you went through all that.”
“I’m still going through it,” he said, and for once, he sounded bitter, which only made sense. “Oh, sure, Hollywood wants me back. Thanks to the trial, I’ve got this unwarranted bad boy rep going, and God help them, there are women who like that shit. I draw crowds, as much from curiosity—like a friggin’ train wreck—as anything else. But other than a few select people—”
“Like Uma?”
“Yeah.” He kissed the top of her head. “Most of those people mean nothing to me. In my situation, you learn fast who the real people are, and who’s a phony.”
May smoothed her hand over his chest, then settled in on his heart. “It’s good information to have.”
“You know who backed me up?”
“Denny.”
He laughed. “No kidding. Jesus, Denny wanted to go on a rampage and take people apart. Starting with Elton, of course. Reining him in wasn’t easy.” Jude tucked his chin in so he could see her. “But it wasn’t just him. All the guys from the SBC got behind me like a big family. Guys I’d beat in the ring. Guys I’d trained, or who had trained with me. Some who had insulted the hell out of me because they didn’t like losing, or because they wanted to trump up interest in our fight. But no matter the trash talk, they knew me. Really knew me. And because of that, they stood with me through it all.”
Trying to be subtle, May wiped away her tears. “I’m glad you had them.”
“Yeah.” He lifted his head more. “Hey, are you crying?”
“No.” Her voice broke.
Jude said, “Aw, honey, don’t.” He turned, again putting her beneath him. He smoothed back her hair and rubbed away her tears with his thumbs. “You know what you can do to make me feel better?”
May gulped, blinked out more tears, and squeaked, “What?”
“Take the stuff I’ve bought you.”
Affronted, knowing she’d just been had, she gasped and tried to swat him. Jude only laughed and caught her hands.
“I told you you’d slug me!”
“I didn’t.” She continued to struggle.
“Only because you can’t.” He gave her a long, tickling, laughing smooch on the lips. “Settle down and just say yes.”
“No.”
“No, you won’t say yes, or no, you won’t take the clothes I bought you?”
“I can buy my own clothes.”
“You can pay for them, sure, but the question is, should you be buying your own clothes? Considering your style preferences—or lack thereof—you might as well be wearing burlap or hammered armor.”
“You’re insulting me!”
“I’m insulting your lack of fashion sense. Come on, May. You’re a beautiful woman with a beautiful figure, and I want to show it off.”
Show it off? Horror ended her struggles. “Oh God. What did you buy?”
His grin turned wicked. “What do you think? Something risqué? Something revealing? Do you expect me to whip out a leather bustier and leopard print tights? Maybe some pasties or fringe-trimmed thongs?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, get your mind out of the gutter. Or better yet, open your mind to new things—like accepting gifts—and let me bring in the packages. You can look everything over. Anything you don’t like we can send back.”
She couldn’t believe his gall. “You have stuff here, already? How is that even possible?”
“I spent some time on the computer and did overnight delivery. It’s easy.”
May dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Says a man of unlimited means.”
He took the opportunity to kiss her throat. “I have excellent taste. And the bank official will be here later. Do you really want to meet him wearing my clothes?”
“I could just make a run to my apartment, you know. I have more than enough clothes there.”
He made a face. “Trust me, what I have is better. The least you can do is look at it. Please?”
Every ounce of pride she had insisted she refuse any gift. But he looked so excited by the prospect, hopeful like a little boy almost. And he’d said he loved giving gifts. She’d feel like an ogre to outright refuse him. “Under duress, I’ll…look.”
“And try things on?”
Her size. She hadn’t even thought of that, but good grief, he had to have given a size in order to select her clothes. There wasn’t anything petite about her. “I don’t know—”
“You’re going to love my choices.” He kissed her again. “Make me happy, May. Say yes.”
He made it sound like a proposal. “All right.”
“Thank you.”
Exasperated, she said, “You can’t thank me when you’re the one giving the gift.”
“I can when the recipient is a very stubborn, thoroughly independent woman who keeps me on my toes.” He jumped out of the bed with the admonition, “Stay put, I’ll be right back.” Buck naked, he stepped into the hall and disappeared from sight.
May didn’t know what to think, but she hoped whatever he’d bought her wouldn’t accentuate the fullness of her figure. She didn’t have a concave belly or protruding hipbones or a disappearing waist. Her boobs were big, her backside bigger, and damn it, if he bought her anything that’d make her look foolish, she would slug him.
Approaching voices reached her. It was Denny and Jude talking on their way to the bedroom, and May took a mad dash to the bathroom to hide. But the voices didn’t enter together. Denny’s faded away, Jude’s whistle came inside, and then she heard the ripping of bags and the rustle of boxes.
Jude tapped on the bathroom door. “Here, try this outfit on first. I think it’ll look great to wear today.”
Apprehensive, May opened the door enough to stick out her arm. Jude pushed it open more, gently forcing her back so he could step in. He laid a pair of cropped jeans with a pink chiffon cami onto the counter. Smiling, he held up a pair of one-inch heeled sandals of the same cotton-candy pink.
“Promise you’ll let me see after you get it all on.”
May stared at the beautiful wispy top and the designer jeans. They were…lovely. Not at all risqué. But it appeared to be an outfit for a much younger, much skinnier woman.
“No way am I promising any such thing.” If she looked bloated, she didn’t want any witnesses. If the clothes enhanced her weight instead of minimizing it, hell would freeze over before she paraded around in front of him.
Shoring up her defenses, she put a hand to his chest and pushed him out of the room. “If it looks okay, then I’ll show you.”
“There’s more,” Jude said as he allowed her to eject him. “I bought you panties, too, and a couple of bras, but you won’t need one with that top—”
She shut the door in his face. He’d bought her bras? And panties? Her face burned. Then she glanced at the delicate top. She’d never owned anything like it, had never even dared to think of buying such a thing. It was so feminine and delicate and…beautiful.
Biting her lip with growing excitement, she fingered the material, smiled, and slipped it on.