Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (9 page)

She glared. “Sorry to disappoint you, then, ‘cause that’s all you’re getting of the kissing
and
of me.”

He paused, finally really hearing her anger. “Naomi?”

“What?” She moved farther away.

“Are you – did I hurt you? Scare you?”

“No. You pissed me off.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry… I thought you wanted this, too.”

“No.”

King suddenly had no idea what to say or do. “OK, then. My mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“That would be awesome.” She crossed her arms tight across those amazing breasts. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get ready for tonight.”

“Yeah.” He pulled himself together a bit, still trying to get his head around what the hell was going on here. “Yeah, me too. I’ll get going.”

“Good.”

“So… I’ll see you in a couple of hours, I guess.”

“Yes.”

King stared at her, trying to think what to say to bring her back to him, but his mind was blank. Naomi was looking at him like she’d be overjoyed if he just dropped dead on the spot, her head tipped to one side in a gesture of annoyance and impatience. He saw her rigid body language and knew there was nothing to be said or done. She’d been pretty damn clear: she didn’t want him around. Like, at all.

That was when King came to truly believe that she still saw him now as she had that first day in his garage. He was the guy who couldn’t be openly associated with her organization because of his team-for-hire; he was the guy who ran a garage which fixed bikes belonging to MC creeps and criminals. He was questionable in so many ways, and rough around the edges, and he undoubtedly scared her to death.

Get out of here. You’ve tried for weeks to get her to see you differently, and you’ve obviously failed miserably. You gave it a shot and you got shut down. Just call it quits, man. She said no.

“OK, then,” he said quietly. “I’ll go.”

Naomi watched him leave, barely holding back her tears. As soon as the door shut behind him, she grabbed her cell phone and called Mirrie.

“Naomi? You OK?”

“No.” The word came out on a sob. “Oh, God, Mirrie, no. I’m not.”

“What happened?”

“I – I kissed Matt. Or he kissed me. I’m not sure. But – but we kissed.”

Mirrie paused. “OK. And?”

“And… and I panicked. I told him to stop, and then I told him to never do that again.”

“How’d he take it?”

“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I mean, he stopped and he left.”

“Where are you right now?”

“At the Heart Center… the auction starts in two hours, and I have to get ready and get my shit together for that. But I’m a fucking mess.”

“You want me to come over there?”

Naomi sucked in a deep breath. “Would you?”

“Yeah. Give me forty minutes, OK?”

“Oh, God. Thank you.”

“No problem. We’ll calm you down, get you all glammed up, get your head in the game, yeah? By the time this shindig gets started, you’ll be fine. Right?”

“Right.”

“So you jump in the shower and slip in to that hot dress. And can I do your hair and makeup?”

Despite herself, Naomi laughed. “You can consult.”

“Deal. See you soon.”

Chapter Eight

Naomi glanced around the fundraising auction again, taking it all in. It was, by anyone’s standards, a rousing success. The Heart Center was packed, the pieces were selling for good prices – far higher than she’d anticipated, actually – and the room was buzzing with positive energy. She saw Sarah and Jax talking to Noah, who was excited that his painting was about to go up on the block.

She took a deep breath as a waiter approached with a tray of wine and offered her a glass. She smiled and murmured her thanks as she declined, then looked around again, casual and unconcerned, just to see if maybe Matt had arrived. Her heart sank when she still saw no sign of him.

He wouldn’t just bail, would he? No. No way. I mean, no matter how furious he may be at me, he’d never let Callie down… he’ll be here.

Almost as if she’d conjured him up with her thoughts, the door opened and in he walked. Naomi thanked God that she was all the way across the room and leaning against a wall, because the sight of him knocked the air right out of her all over again.

The man was wearing a suit, for God’s sake.
A damn suit
. And if she’d thought that he was sexy in jeans and t-shirts, she wasn’t anything
like
prepared to see Matt Kingston in fitted dark pants, a crisp white dress shirt unbuttoned to show a tempting little peek of tattooed skin and dark hair, and a tailored jacket. He was all shoulders and chest and arms, and her first coherent thought was to wonder how the hell he’d managed to find a suit to fit that massive, muscular body.

She watched him accept a glass of wine, then look around. She shrank back a bit, trying to avoid the inevitable moment when they’d have to make eye contact. She was pathetically relieved when Matt saw Jax, Sarah, Noah and Callie, and joined them.

Naomi’s attention went to the stage now, where Noah’s painting was being set up on the easel. The room gave a collective gasp and Naomi felt a surge of pride. Noah’s talent was going to finally be recognized and she was thrilled for him.

“Lot one-oh-eight has attracted a great deal of interest,” said Calvin Rhymes, the auctioneer that Naomi had hired for the evening. “This is the first piece by Noah Matthews, and I can tell you that we have several reserved bids placed. Bidding starts at four thousand dollars.”

The room gasped again and Naomi blinked in shock.
That’s the damn
opening
bid? Jesus Christ, that’s amazing.

The bidding moved quickly, with things heating up as a determined phone bidder drove the price up steadily. When the dust settled, Noah’s painting went to the person on the phone for eleven thousand dollars, and the room was in a frenzy of excitement.

Naomi stayed where she was, watching Sarah and Jax hug Noah, and Matt flash that amazing grin at him. She knew she should congratulate Noah, so she screwed up her courage to go and face Matt again. The memory of his lips on hers flashed through her mind and her body, and she flushed.

Calm down. This isn’t about him, OK, this is about Noah. Go on, now.

King felt his eyes widen as Naomi approached them. Sweet Christ, she looked stunning – she looked like she’d just stepped out of one of his fantasies about her. He felt his body tense up as he thought about how she’d tasted on his tongue, how she’d moaned in his arms, and his cock hardened mercilessly. He was losing his fucking
mind
over this woman… and she wanted nothing at all to do with him.

His hot eyes devoured her, swallowed her whole. She was in a clinging little red number that molded to her like a second skin, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring. The dress worshipped and adored every firm curve of her hips, hugged and cupped her rounded ass, flaunted and showed off those breasts. It was classy and sexy at the same time, and it was the perfect dress for this cool, passionate woman. Naomi was nothing short of spectacular… and he wanted her so badly, he actually hurt from it.

“Noah!” she said. “That was amazing! Congratulations.”

“Sarah says I can buy some baseball cards by myself now,” Noah said excitedly.

Naomi laughed. “Oh, for sure you can. You can buy a few.”

Sarah smiled at her. “You look beautiful, Naomi. Great dress.”

“Thanks, you too. That’s really your color, huh?”

Sarah looked down at the figure-hugging forest green dress, blushing a bit. “Yeah, well. Jax took me shopping.”

“It’s long been a fantasy of mine to buy her a hot dress,” Jax drawled. “She’s resisted for ages – but this auction was the perfect excuse.”

Naomi laughed again, then forced herself to turn her attention to Matt. “Hi.”

“Hi.” His voice was husky. “You look fantastic.”

“So do you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And me?” Noah said.

“You look wonderful,” Naomi said. “Are you and Sarah going to dance when the auction is finished in a few minutes?”

“Dancing?” Noah looked disgusted. “No, thank you.”

“So I get your sister all to myself?” Jax asked him.

Noah waved his hand. “Yes. All yours.”

"Will you dance with
me
?" Callie asked him shyly.

Noah stared at her. "You want to?"

"I want to."

Noah nodded, gulped, watched as Callie walked to the food table.

Noah turned to Jax, panic written all over his face. "Jax, Jax, Jax!"

"Yeah, man?"

"You know how to dance?"

"Yep." Jax grinned at him. "You need a quick lesson?"

"Yes."

"Let's go."

"Don't tell."

"Never. Your secret is safe with me."

"Good. Because your secret is safe with me."

Jax looked puzzled. "What secret is that?"

"Where you're taking Sarah next weekend."

"How do you know about that?" Jax said, stunned.

"I heard you on your phone, making the reservation."

"Shhh!" Jax hissed. "Come on Romeo, we're wasting time."

"Not Romeo. Noah."

"Sorry, man. My mistake."

"You should get your memory checked," Noah said as they walked away. "Maybe you have early onset alzheimer's."

The others laughed, then King said to Sarah, “Well, I hope you’ll save one dance for me, Red.”

Her blue eyes sparkled at him. “I’ll think about it.”

He looked at Naomi now. “Is your dance card full?”

“Oh. Oh, no. I don’t dance.”

“No?”

“No.” She looked away; his lips were very distracting. “If you’ll all excuse me, I have a few more things to do. And Callie’s sculpture will be coming up for bidding soon, remember. See you later.” As she turned, a waiter offered her a glass of wine, and the temptation to take it crashed over her.

I’d cope so much better with all of this if I had a drink.

She bit her lip, then shook her head at the waiter. She glanced at her watch, saw that she only had to get through one more hour, then she could escape without being rude.

Forget about one day at a time right now, OK? This is one minute at a time, so hang in there. Just get through one more minute without a drink. Then another. And another and another until all those minutes add up to an hour.

You can do this. You can, and you will.

**

King watched Jax and Sarah on the darkened dance floor. His friend was holding the woman like she was the most wondrous thing in the world – and for Jax, she was. King felt a huge ache of loneliness building up inside him. He wanted Naomi to look at him the way that Sarah looked at Jax. He wanted her to step in to his embrace, to rest her head on his chest, to just give over. He wanted her to be close to him. To trust him.

He squinted around the dim room, finally spotted her. Naomi glanced at her watch then looked up, and he frowned at the expression on her face: she was clearly nervous and upset. Without a second thought, he approached her.

“Hey, you OK?” he said.

She visibly tensed. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “You just look… off.”

“I do?”

“Yeah.”

“Well. I’m fine.” She snapped him a crisp little smile, looked away.

At her tone and expression, the last glimmer of hope that he’d had about her maybe wanting to be with him just shriveled up and died. He knew now that he’d been kidding himself, and the wave of despair that crashed over him was stunning in its strength. He stopped fighting it and for one of the very few times in his life, he just gave up, let himself go under.

But before he called it a day, he was going to be honest with her. It wouldn’t do one damn bit of good, he knew, but he wasn’t the kind of man who left important things unsaid or ducked a tough conversation. King had never hidden from a damn thing in the whole of his life and he wasn't starting now.

“Naomi?”

She turned back to him, surprised by something in his voice, something soft and tentative.

Those aren’t words I associate with this man.

“Yes?”

“Would you dance with me?”

“Oh, Matt, I don’t think –”

“Please.” He didn’t move a muscle. “Please, Naomi. Just one dance.”

She was confused by his plea and went silent.

“Listen, I wanted to apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you, and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He took a deep breath. “And I wanted you to know that I’ve received the message loud and clear, OK? After tonight, I won’t be coming back in to the Heart Center. I’ll drop Callie and Noah off and come no farther than the parking lot.”

That surprised her. “You what?”

“I’ve been coming around here to get to know you better, to let you know me a bit. I had hopes about me and you together, you see. Together for real, maybe even for good. But you made it pretty clear today that’s not going to happen.” He glanced down at his suit. “I had this fucking stupid hope that if you saw me like this – as more civilized, somehow – maybe you’d look at me differently. But it hasn’t worked, I’m guessing.” He met her eyes again. “I’m just never going to be good enough or safe enough for you, am I?”

Stunned by this series of bolts-out-of-the-blue, Naomi stared at him. She had no idea what to say to any of this.

“So.” That grin that she’d come to adore was back on his handsome face. “You’ll give me one dance, before we go our separate ways?”

She suddenly understood that this was probably the last time that she’d be seeing Matt, and she was amazingly hurt at the thought. She felt empty, lonely, alone – she felt like something incredible was about to exit her life, leaving it
less
, somehow. Less bright, less warm. So she said the only thing she could think of.

“Yes,” she said.

King held out his hand to her and Naomi took it. He led her on to the dance floor, turned and took her in to his arms. His one hand held one of hers against his solid chest, the other rested lightly on her back, just below her delicate shoulder blade. He was barely touching her, but he felt the warmth of her skin through the material of her dress, and he almost groaned.

So close to her, but so far.

Naomi closed her eyes in despair when she realized that the V in his white dress shirt was level with her gaze; all she had to do was lean forward a few inches, and she’d be able to lick and kiss that warm, tattooed skin. Her free hand tightened on his massive upper arm at the thought, and she felt the steel of muscle under her fingertips.

Goddammit, Naomi. Stop that. Just dance with the man, one dance, then get the hell away from him.

King held her carefully, remembering all over again how small she was against his body. He flashed to that afternoon, to her lying in his arms, kissing him and moaning. Her body had been saying ‘fuck, yeah’, but her head and heart just wouldn’t go along with that, and he wanted to sit her down and convince her that he was actually an OK guy. But all his weeks of effort and patience hadn’t mattered in the end: the woman had said no and she’d said go and he respected that. He also fucking hated it.

They turned in a slow circle, not talking, not looking at each other, barely breathing. And there in the safety of the semi-darkness, Naomi began to think about Matt’s words to her.

“I had hopes about me and you together, you see…together for real, maybe even for good.”

Oh, God. She’d fought them and she’d denied them, but she’d had those same hopes. She had them so deep now, they were in her flesh, in her bones.

I could have had this man; I could have been with this man. He was serious and I didn’t know it, and anyway, his timing sucks. Because I’m an alcoholic in recovery, I have to pass him by. I have to let him go.

The enormity of what she’d missed began to overwhelm her, and she felt sadness start to creep in to her chest. Then Matt shifted a bit and looked down at her, his hot breath on the side of her face. She smelled the wine he’d been drinking and it hit her that in this moment, she hated wine as much as she’d ever loved it. The thing that had been her greatest comfort and best friend, her favorite lover and most constant solace, had cost her a good man. Maybe even cost her what could have been love.

Too much. It’s just too much.

King was shocked when Naomi lowered her face to his chest and started to tremble. He paused, almost afraid.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You OK?”

She didn’t answer and now he heard small gasps of breath.

“Naomi? Are you – are you crying?”

She nodded without raising her head, and King felt a surge of protectiveness swell and crash deep inside him. He didn’t say one more word to her as she fell apart in his arms; he just held her closer and tighter, and she let him.

They kept dancing, Naomi clutching the front of his shirt, King stroking her hair now, using his body to shield her from the others in the room. She had the privacy to just let go, and she let herself cry for everything she’d lost to alcohol… in this moment, it felt like a very long, heart-breaking list.

One slow song led to another, then a third, and by the time the last song had finished, Naomi was back in control. She tried to wipe her tears without attracting the attention of everyone on the dance floor, and that was when she saw Matt’s shirt. It was covered in mascara and face powder and she blushed furiously.