Jagged Hearts (3 page)

“But I know you, better than you like to think,” Bare retorted. “I know there’s a real flesh-and-blood woman under that thick skin of yours. One with needs. One who didn’t die five years ago, no matter how much she wishes otherwise.”

She whirled around, letting his words fire her blood and fuel her anger. “You see what you want to see and nothing more.”

“If I saw only what I wanted, it would be you naked and in my bed, too exhausted even for memories.”

“So I should just forget everything and jump in bed with you? Let you fuck me senseless?”

“Hell, yes!” he practically yelled. “You need to be fucked. Often. I want to knock every thought out of your head so you have no choice but to feel for a change.” He walked over to her and jerked her against his broad chest. “Feel me. I’m right here, Paisley. Flesh and blood.”

He was a foot taller than her, and his erection hit her belly, taunting her with what she shouldn’t want, what she didn’t want to crave.

“I don’t want you,” she told him, and the cocky bastard just laughed, though there was little humor to the sound.

“You want me, and it eats you up with guilt. I see it every time you look at me.” He had one hand clamped against the small of her back, holding her against him, while he used the other to cup her chin and tilt her face up to him. “Deny it. I dare you.”

“I don’t want you,” she said again, and he struck like a cobra.

She had just enough time to squeak like a damn mouse before his mouth was on hers. His tongue licked over her bottom lip then his teeth nipped. She knew what he wanted and refused to give in. If he kissed her, really kissed her, she’d be lost. And she couldn’t. It was too soon, and he was all wrong.

He caressed along her jaw, up the curve of her face until he nuzzled her ear.

“Give in,” he crooned. “Take what you want.”

“Why are you doing this?” she begged. “Why now?”

He’d kept his distance from the first. He’d been kind and gentle, but always, he’d remained aloof. Why the sudden change? Why was he pressed against her like the new skin she longed to jump into?

“Because,” he whispered and kissed her so softly above her ear that she felt tears threaten.

“Because why?” she demanded.

Bare took a deep breath and let her go. He walked back across the room before pivoting to look at her again. “Because I’m tired of watching you punish yourself for surviving. You lived, Paisley.”

She fought for control. Still, a tear escaped to slide down her cheek. “I lost everything that mattered to me that day. There’s nothing to celebrate.”

“You lost a man you loved. You needed to mourn him and to mourn what could have been. You needed to get angry at what you both were cheated out of.”

“I am mourning. I am angry,” she yelled.

“Still,” he emphasized. “You’re still mourning. Still angry. When will you wake up and take a good look at what you have around you? You have a dad who loves you and spends most of his time terrified he’s lost you again, even when you’re standing right in front of him.”

“He has me,” she argued and tried to ignore the part of her whispering Bare was right.

“Does he? Because, from where I’m standing, all I see is a woman too wrapped up in self-pity to appreciate what she still has.”

“Self-pity? You fucking bastard. You have no idea what I went through.”

“I know what you went through. Thanks to your mother, the whole world does. You went through hell, but you’re still here.”

“He’s not,” she yelled. “Do you get that? He’s not!”

“No, he’s not,” Bare agreed quietly. “And at some point, you need to make peace with that or you need to stay the hell away from here.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your dad won’t say anything to you, but I sure as hell will. Take a look at the men’s faces when you walk in this building. Do you think you’re the only one who’s ever lost someone? Do you think you have the market cornered on loss and pain? Climb out of your head and take a good hard look around you.”

Paisley opened and closed her mouth several times but couldn’t summon the words to dispute what he said. Was he right? Did she act that way? The shame that filled her made her think there was a layer of truth to his words.

“I hate you,” she uttered.

“Good,” Bare replied, crossing his arms over his chest again. “I bet that’s the first time you’ve felt anything but grief in the last five years.”

She swallowed and turned, walking out the door and leaving him and his accusations behind. Too bad they followed, tagging along as they repeated over and over in her head. Could she move on? Should she? Would she have expected Lance to mourn her for the rest of his life if he’d been the one to live? No, she knew she wouldn’t. She’d want him to be happy. How could she think he’d want anything less for her?

She wrapped her arms around her waist as she slipped into her father’s empty office and walked over to the windows where the sun was bright. She hugged the shadows though there was no one to see her. Her mind might be waging a battle between guilt and desire, but her body had no such problems. Her heart beat fast beneath her swollen breasts. Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her T-shirt, and she was grateful Bare hadn’t pointed it out, though she was sure he’d noticed. She ached low in her belly and between her legs.

Bare was right. She wanted him. God help her, she wanted him with a ferocity that invaded her dreams. She was grateful for the one thing he hadn’t pointed out to her. Though she’d denied him a kiss, she hadn’t been the one to push out of his arms and walk away. She hadn’t had the strength to deny herself that much. He’d been the one to release her, the one to walk across the room. She’d seen his frustration, the way his breath had made his chest rise and fall as he’d struggled to find control. And she’d seen the blatant bulge of his desire pressed against the denim of his jeans.

God, help her, she wanted him, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to deny that fact much longer. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as she made up her mind about what she really wanted and turned back toward the door. She hadn’t come in today to see her dad. It had been Bare, and he knew it. The question was if she was willing to admit it.

Chapter Two

Bare watched Paisley storm from the room and forced himself to stay where he was. He wanted to follow her, throw her over his shoulder and take her somewhere private. Did he want to fuck her? Hell, yeah, in every position conceivable. But more than that, he wanted to hold her, to let her purge the sorrow drowning her so that maybe, she could finally move forward and live again.

“Think you were a little hard on her?” Tuck said, entering the room from the small door opposite of the one Paisley had exited through. Bare had sensed the other man’s presence, which was why he’d let Paisley go. They didn’t need an audience for what he had in mind.

“Someone needs to be.”

“Jamison won’t like it,” Tuck warned, and Bare didn’t bother saying not to tell him. Tuck would tell Jamison. It was a given.

“Maybe, he needs to hear it, too,” Bare said instead. “He’s let this go on for far too long. If she were one of us, he’d hardball it and tell us to deal with the emotional baggage and move on.” He gave Tuck a hard stare. “You know I’m right.”

“You are,” Tuck agreed. “But she’s different.”

“No,” Bare challenged. “She’s not. She shouldn’t be.”

“But she is,” Tuck stated matter-of-factly. “He’s waited his whole life to have her here. He won’t do or say anything that might send her running.”

Bare sighed. Vivian Ames had done a number on both father and daughter. She’d divorced Jamison while he was overseas and not informed him she was pregnant. He hadn’t known about Paisley until he’d come home. By then, she’d been firmly under her mother’s thumb and beginning a career in modeling. Vivian had thought it best if Jamison didn’t have anything to do with Paisley. He’d flat refused, informing Vivian he’d take her to court for the right to see his daughter if she forced the issue.

So Jamison had tried to get to know Paisley, but it hadn’t been until she was a teenager that they’d really made much progress. Jamison seemed to feel as if he had a lot to make up to his daughter for not being around, and Paisley seemed unsure of how her father felt. Bare knew exactly who was to blame for everything. Vivian Ames. Hell, the barracuda had even given Paisley her last name instead of Jamison’s since he hadn’t been there to contest. It was Knight now, but to the rest of the world, she’d always be Paisley Ames.

“It’s been five years, Tuck,” Bare reminded the other man. “It’s time everyone stopped tiptoeing around her. What did you tell Seth when he arrived?”

Tuck said nothing, but Bare already knew. He would have told Seth the same thing he told all of them when they arrived, discharge papers firmly in hand, struggling to step back into the shoes of a civilian. Most had seen war up close and personal. They’d lived off instinct and adrenaline, trusting those around them to have their back. Some had been special forces, but not many.

“I saw his file,” Bare said when Tuck remained silent. “Roadside bombing with only two survivors. He left after that tour and went home to Chicago. Got in more than his share of bar fights but took beatings when he has the skills to avoid them. Then his girlfriend was murdered. I’d say he’s seen more than his fair share of shit too, but I doubt you treated him with kid gloves. And don’t give me any bull about him being a man. Pain is pain, no matter what’s between your fucking legs.”

Tuck sighed, and Bare knew his words had struck home.

“She’s twenty-six years old. She should be enjoying life. Dancing, laughing, having fun. She should be fucking living, and I’m not talking about in her head. She’s hidden away, and we’ve let her.” He met Tuck’s gaze. “I’m not letting her hide anymore.”

“You think you’re the one to make her smile again?” Tuck asked.

“Damn straight I am,” Bare said. Fuck, he was afraid he might kill anyone else who tried.

Tuck just nodded and moved to turn the television back on. They both watched as the interview with Vivian was recapped.

“Jamison won’t be able to stop this,” Tuck finally said. “Not this time.”

“So we prepare for hurricane Vivian,” Bare stated with a grunt.

“He’ll be back before she gets here, but despite what he thinks, he won’t be able to keep Vivian away from Paisley.” He turned off the television then faced Bare. “You’re right. Someone should have stepped in when it appeared Paisley wasn’t moving forward. Jamison. Me.” He shrugged his shoulders. “She won’t be emotionally ready to deal with all this.”

“All this?” Bare asked.

“Vivian plans to bring a film crew here and show how broken her daughter is, how Paisley’s life ended that night and that’s why she left LA and her mother behind.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Bare gritted out.

“Yeah,” Tuck agreed. “We can protect Paisley, stand between her and the world, but in the end, it’s going to boil down to her choice. Either way, there will be no place to hide after this. Vivian announced exactly where she would visit Paisley. Even told them where the picture of Paisley had been taken.”

“I won’t let Vivian hurt her,” Bare swore, but there might not be anyone who could stop him from hurting Vivian.

“We’ll all do our best, but the heart isn’t so easy to protect,” Tuck said.

Bare said nothing, agreeing with Tuck. No matter what they did, this was bound to hurt Paisley all over again. There was so much she’d never spoken of since that day. She threw Lance’s name out, using it as a shield, but Bare knew there was another pain that had ripped her apart, one she still hadn’t fully dealt with.

He heard the door and felt the change in the room the moment she stepped back inside. He kept his gaze on Tuck though his entire body was attuned to the woman who had come to consume his every thought.

“Hey, Tuck.”

Her voice slid over Bare like a slow caress and had his dick saluting again. Christ, the things she did to him. The things he wanted to do to her.

“Hey there, princess,” Tuck said as he crossed to her.

Bare turned and watched as the other man gently wrapped her in his arms and hugged her, treating her like a fragile piece of glass he was afraid to break. Bare knew better. She wouldn’t break. He wouldn’t let her. She had too much heat and fire in her to shatter. She might bend a little, lose her shape, but she’d just be forged into something better, stronger.

“I figured you’d be with dad,” she said.

“No, this was a solo mission,” Tuck said. “He’ll be home later tonight if you want to go over and wait for him. You could have a late dinner. Talk.”

Her gaze skittered over to Bare, and he felt his chest swell as she bit her bottom lip nervously.

“I might,” she said, her gaze darting to Tuck then moving back to Bare. “It depends on when Bare and I get back.”

“You’re going somewhere?” Tuck asked, glancing at Bare.

Bare just stared at Paisley. What was she saying? What was she admitting?

She cleared her throat. “He offered to take me for a ride. Take me away for a bit.”

He wanted to give her a ride. Hell, he wanted to sink his cock deep inside her and ride until they were both unable to move. He wanted to take her away forever, to keep her tied to his bed naked and ready when he wanted her. Just the thought had his dick weeping with joy.

“Sounds like fun,” Tuck said. Bare flushed at where his thoughts had led him. He doubted Tuck would say that if he knew the depth of Bare’s carnal thoughts. “I might go for a ride myself.”

Bare watched the color rise in Paisley’s cheeks, took in the tight little nipples pressing her shirt where her jacket almost hid them. Almost, but thank God, it didn’t. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck them, bite them. He wanted to make her come with nothing more than his mouth on her tits. And this was the wrong fucking week to let these desires loose in his head, but five years was a long fucking time to walk around with a perpetual hard-on.

“Bare?” Her voice tickled across his skin as she turned those big green eyes to him and met his gaze. “Still want to…ride?”