It was time to lace up the gloves and step into the ring.
“Stop staring,” she murmured out of the side of her gorgeously mobile mouth.
“Never.”
Blushing, she snagged her plump lower lip with her teeth. So damn pretty. He noticed with approval her breathing had picked up, so he leaned in and buried his cold nose in the warm, fragrant skin of neck.
“Problem catching a breath, miss? I can help. Qualified EMT.”
“You’re evil, Beck Rivera. And freezing.”
“I want you to stay in Chicago.”
She lowered her eyelids, and the twinkling lights on her dark lashes made them sparkle like decorative fans. “What are you doing to me?” she breathed, and when she opened her eyes again, they shone glossy with emotion.
“I refuse to believe you entered my life again only to walk right out a few weeks later. The gods couldn’t be that cruel.” His lips brushed hers, gentle, teasing, then a stronger press that made his intent clear. She was his.
Then. Now. Forever.
She sniffed and pulled a tissue from her pocket, then scowled at his inevitable smile. “Shut it, Rivera. I always get sniffly in winter.”
Her father had done a number on her, made it so she had a hard time letting anyone in. Now Beck was insinuating his way into the emotional nooks and crannies, finding those hard-to-reach places, shining a light. And just like he practiced out on the battleground of fire, no one would get left behind.
Over the sound system, a holiday classic filled the air with its smooth, velvet croon.
“I really can’t stay . . . But baby, it’s cold outside.”
“Gotta stop running sometime, Darcy.”
Darcy held Beck’s stark blue gaze and let the words sink in. Soured by her near-miss marriage and her father’s formerly tyrannical grip on her life, funereal bells tolled in her brain as soon as any guy started dictating the terms. “Always be moving” had served her well so far. Free agency suited her.
Beck might be different, but was it enough? He had dumped her once with no explanation, no apology, nothing. Of course, she refused to delve deeper. Asking implied caring.
So she did what terrified, fragile, in-denial girls everywhere did—she fronted with her stock answer. “Chicago’s not big enough for me and Dad.”
“Oh, I dunno. Third largest city in the United States. And you have other reasons for sticking around.”
“Such as?”
“Meddling friends. Terrifying, tatted guys who care about you. Evil grandmothers.” That one he mimed, unnecessarily as it happened, because Grams had nodded off. “A business you can do anywhere because you rock at it.” Pause. “Burn-the-sheets sex.”
Considering they’d never made it to a bed, that particular claim was not entirely legit. She turned into his chest to keep her voice from carrying in the clear night air—and oh hell, because she fit perfectly under his strong jaw—and sucked in a heady lungful of him. “Hmm, you might have something there. The pickings for burn-the-sheets sex are bound to be better in the third largest city in the United States.”
He gentled the back of her neck and kissed her, sweet and slow. His sexy jaw scruff conjured up a wash of sensation and sensual memories of how it had rasped her thighs during their steamy not-shower.
Gettin’ so warm inside . . .
“Let’s keep it PG, handsome,” she said, when he let her up for air.
“Pretty good? Think I can manage that.”
Another press of his lips, and the addition of his wickedly effective tongue, lifted her to a higher plane. This man of hers could kiss away every doubt, make her believe anything was possible. Even that she could live in the same metropolitan area as her father.
She was a much-sought-after body artist who loved her job and the freedom it gave her. She had built a good life, yet the idea of letting someone in—someone who might seem perfect on the surface, but could end up as manipulating and controlling as Sam Cochrane—seized her heart in a fist.
“Tell me why bustin’ out of Dodge is so important,” he whispered. “Because the way I see it, you have more reasons to stay than go.”
“I didn’t turn out how he wanted. The pliable daughter, the budding trophy wife. If I stick around in Chicago, he’ll find a way back into my life, and before I know it I’ll feel small again, just another cog in his machine. Look at how he tried to marry me off.”
“You should be thanking him.”
She gulped, unsure she’d heard that right. “Excuse me?”
He cupped his ear. “Do you hear what I hear?”