Hard Rules (Dirty Money #1)(15)

We’re almost to the hostess stand when abruptly, Shane stops walking. A moment later, he’s in front of me, his back to the entryway, blocking it from my view, his hands on my arms. “My father is here and he’s the last person I want to see right now. I’m going to grab a waitress and pay the bill. Wait for me at the back door.”

Stunned, confused, I stammer, “I … yes … okay.” Embarrassment follows, and I turn on my heel, intending to dart away, only to have him snag my hand, and angle me back toward him. “I’ll be right there,” he says, his voice thick with promise.

Unable to process the wave of emotions overwhelming me, I manage a choppy nod and he releases me. I pretty much lunge forward, and still, the short walk feels more eternal than his long, gray-eyed stares. He doesn’t want to be seen with me. He doesn’t want to introduce me to his father, and that is fine, I tell myself, but it feels bad. Really bad. Why would he bring me to one of his regular places, if this is how he was going to react if we ran into someone he knows? Why do I care? It doesn’t matter. I do. Illogical as it might be, I do care. What was I thinking coming here in the first place? Low profile went right out the window and it’s time to get myself back under control.

Rounding the wall to the hallway again, I continue onward and cut the corner where I spy a BATHROOM sign right next to one that reads the EXIT. Exit wins. Double-stepping, I close the distance between me and it, hoping to escape before Shane follows, if he follows. That he might not is a humiliation I really can’t stomach right now. I reach the door and forcefully shove the heavy steel open, finding myself on a street with mostly retail stores that are now closed. I scan for someplace to disappear to, not about to be some sort of obligation to a man I barely know. I cut left when I spot an open coffee shop.

I all but run toward it, a gust of chilly wind lifting my hair from my neck, and I swear this Texas girl pretending to be a Cali girl will never get used to chilly summer nights. Reaching the entrance, I glance right without meaning to, at the same moment the back door of the restaurant opens. My heart leaps and I quickly enter the coffee shop, traveling the narrow path between the vacant round wooden tables.

Passing the register, I wave at the person I barely look at behind the counter. “Bathroom before I order,” I murmur, entering yet another hallway and immediately finding the bathroom. I turn the knob, entering the tiny box intended for one and lock myself inside. Falling against the door, I shut my eyes and touch my lips, remembering that kiss Shane had surprised me with, and I swear I can still taste remnants of cognac on my tongue, remnants of him. I bury my face in my hands, dreading my empty apartment and bed that might have been filled with Shane. Yet another part of me is relieved. I push off the door, dragging my fingers through my hair, staring at my pale face and now messy chestnut hair, and I swear, I look like my mother and I’m making the same mistakes she did. Only she could have turned back time, and made them right, and I can’t. And I was about to add tonight to the list. If anything had happened to me, no one would even miss me. But that’s the point I guess. For one night, I wanted someone to know I exist again. Actually, I wanted him to know. Just him, and I don’t know why.

It hits me then that I haven’t even checked my phone. I dig it from my purse and look for the call I’m expecting, and find the screen blank. Blank, damn it. What the hell is going on? Nothing I can control, that’s for sure, or I wouldn’t be in Denver. I wouldn’t be doing a lot of things. I drop the phone back in my purse. I need to go home. Okay, not home. That apartment is not home. I just … I need to go. I grab the door, yanking it open, only to gasp at the sight of Shane standing there. “What are you doing?”

He holds up his hands. “Just hear me out and if you want me to leave, I will.”

“I do. I want you to leave.”

“He wasn’t with my mother.”

I gape. “What?”

“The woman my father was with wasn’t my mother.” There is a rasp to his voice, and steel in those gray eyes. “I couldn’t have you be a part of that potential confrontation.”

The wall I’ve placed between us, falls away, my chest pinching with the familiar emotion of betrayal he must be feeling. A feeling I know all too well but wish I did not. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry. I know what I made you feel. Like I was embarrassed to be with you and that simply isn’t the case.” He offers me his hand. “Come with me.”

I could say no, but I don’t want to. And I should ask where we’re going, but very out of character for me, I simply don’t care, nor do I think about any of the reprimands I gave myself in that bathroom. This isn’t about an agenda I must follow. This is about one night with this incredibly sexy man. I slide my hand into his.





I never lie to any man because I don’t fear anyone. The only time you lie is when you are afraid.



—John Gotti





CHAPTER FOUR


SHANE


The instant Emily’s delicate little hand settles against mine, I close my fingers around hers, holding on tight, wanting her to the point of almost need. This night, somehow, she’s become the light in the darkness that is my f*cked-up family.

I drag her to me, my hand molded to her lower back, hers settling over my thundering heart, her eyes on my chest. “Look at me,” I order.