Wanted
Page 49

 J. Kenner

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.” He stroked my hair. “It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “The universe is a fucked up bitch, and she doesn’t play by the rules.”
“I stopped, you know. That very day I stopped sneaking out and acting wild and cutting loose. I turned myself completely around.”
“Did you?” he asked. “Yourself? Or your behavior?”
I didn’t answer, but he was dead on the money, and I think he knew it. Nothing inside me had really changed. I’d just locked it up tight.
He sat up, then pulled me onto his lap. I leaned in close to him and sighed. I didn’t like playing true confessions, but at the same time it felt good to have shared my secrets. Or, rather, it felt good to share them with Evan.
“I’m an absolute wreck you know,” I said. “I think you must be a saint for putting up with me.”
His low chuckle thrummed through my chest. “Hardly. And you’re not a wreck.”
“Oh, I am.” I sighed and closed my eyes. “You say you’ve wanted me for so long, but I don’t think you’re seeing the person you think you’re seeing.”
“No? You told me before that I see you.”
“Wishful thinking, maybe,” I said.
“No.” The word was strong and simple and held a world of understanding. “You were right. I see you. I do. I see what you are.”
“What am I?” I asked, hating how small and insecure my voice sounded, but I had to know. Had to hear.
“Beautiful, vibrant, smart. You’re selfless. You’re empathetic. And though you may not always be correct, you always do what you think is right. And,” he added with a mischievous grin. “It turns out that you’re quite talented in bed.”
At that, I laughed out loud.
“I see you,” he repeated. “I see the core of you, Lina. The heart. And I damn sure hope that’s what you see in me, too, because my top coat may be shiny and bright, but underneath that you’re going to find a lot of tarnish.”
“And beneath the tarnish?”
“Much shinier,” he said. “But very hard to get to. Except for Tyler and Cole, Jahn is probably the only one who ever has.”
I sat up straight so that I could see his face better. “That’s sad,” I said, but even as I spoke, I realized that his words could apply to me, too. How many people had I truly let in? Honestly, except for Jahn, I could think of none. Not even Kat. Not even Flynn.
“What about your mom and your sister?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. To a degree. But they’re not around. They moved away years ago. I hardly ever see them anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” I regretted bringing it up. I remembered now that the various articles I’d read had talked about the fact that he’d worked his ass off to move them out of Chicago so they could make a better life elsewhere. He’d remained behind, running the businesses that had earned the money to finance their move.
“It must have been hard,” I said. “Growing up the way you did. Your father’s death, and then having to shoulder so much when you were so young.”
His smile was humorless. “Just how many articles have you read about me?”
I shrugged. “All of them, I think.”
As I’d hoped, he laughed.
“Fiction writers aren’t the only ones who spin stories, Lina,” he said.
“It’s not true? The way you took care of your mom and your sister?”
His expression was both harsh and wistful. “I did—and will always do—whatever is in my power to protect my family. I will take any risk, I will make any sacrifice, I will do whatever it takes to turn the odds to my favor. And I will never regret a single choice I made where those two women are concerned.”
The passion in his words reverberated through me, and I couldn’t help but picture a young Evan carrying such a huge burden. That he’d not only survived but thrived—was just one more bit of proof that this man was exceptional.
“The universe is fucked up,” I whispered, remembering the words he’d spoken to me—and wondering what risks he’d taken, what sacrifices he’d made, and how, exactly, he’d shifted the odds in his favor.
“Yes,” he said harshly. “It is.” He met my eyes. “Don’t ever be naive, Lina. Whatever you’ve read—whatever you think you know—keep in mind that the press coverage about me doesn’t even come close to the truth.”
I frowned, knowing this was an opportunity. I’d told him about Gracie; if I asked, he just might tell me the truth. About what happened after his father died. About all those secrets Jahn had mentioned. About all the things that Kevin had hinted at.
And yet I didn’t ask. I didn’t say one single word.
I’m not entirely sure why I held back. All I knew was that the sexy, dark, dangerous man I’d fantasized about was finally in my bed, and would be for the next three weeks. Did I want to risk that high by bringing reality into the mix?
I didn’t, and so I stayed silent, gently stroking my hand over his. His knuckles had healed quite a bit, but they were still red, the skin obviously tender. “There was trouble with one of the women who works at Destiny,” he said, though I hadn’t even lifted a brow in question. “I had a little chat with the man causing the trouble. Now there’s no more trouble.”
I thought of what went down in the alley and could easily imagine him protecting the girls. I hoped the man’s face looked one hell of a lot worse than Evan’s knuckles.
I kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad.”
He met my eyes and held them, and the moment had the quality of a salute. As if he not only approved of my words, but I’d passed some sort of test. He smiled, just a little, then he laid his head back and closed his eyes. I settled against him. Even though it was still ridiculously early, I knew that sleep would elude me. I wasn’t yet awake, but at the same time I was full of energy.
I let my fingers explore his body, stroking his chest, easing up his arm. The vibrant green of the vine tattoo popped in the dim light, and I traced its outline with my fingertip, feeling relaxed and lazy and so very comfortable with this man. “Does it mean something?”
He turned his head toward me, his eyes barely open.
“It’s a reminder,” he said. “Let’s just say it keeps me focused.”
I waited for him to say more, but he just turned his head back and closed his eyes again.
I thought of what Jahn had said so many years ago—about how Evan had secrets. His own, and those he keeps for others.
I might have guessed at some of his secrets, but as I looked at Evan, resting peacefully beside me, I had to acknowledge that I didn’t really know the man at all.
But, damn me, I wanted to. I so very desperately wanted to.
I woke again a few hours later to the incredible scent of coffee and the even more incredible man smiling down at me.
“Hey,” he said, passing me the mug. “Drink up. Get dressed. We need to get going.”
I blinked at him. “Going? Where?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I said, without hesitation.
“Then you’ll see when we get there.”