Worth It (Forbidden Men #6)(39)

“Wait. Cam cheated on Felicity?” Mason paused beside Pick, scowling. “What kind of idiot would do that? I’m charging him double if he ever comes in here again.”

“I already was charging him double,” Ten called. When Noel snorted, he added, “What? I’ve hated that motherf*cker since the first time he came in. The dick-licker rubbed me all kinds of wrong.”

I couldn’t say anything. Not that I would’ve jumped into the conversation if I could have, but all the air vacating my lungs robbed me of the ability, even if I’d wanted to. My vision went spotty all over again, and I latched on to the edge of the bar, hoping I didn’t pass out.

I tried to tell myself I was overreacting for no reason. Just because they were talking about some random woman named Felicity didn’t mean they were talking about—

But then I glanced at Pick, and when I found him watching me with that look, I knew.

Son of a bitch.

They were talking about her.

I could literally feel the color leach from my face.

Pick turned his attention from me to sear Noel with a glare. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner? I’ve been trying to reach her for over a day.”

Noel blinked and pulled back, obviously surprised by the vehemence in Pick’s voice. “Well, sorry. But I had no idea you needed her. And hell, with all the hullabaloo of Hamilton becoming a dad and ex-convicts coming to work for us, I kind of forgot about it.”

Pick slid his gaze back to me. I think he knew I was a split second away from reaching across the bar and strangling him, because he tipped his head toward the hall. “Knox. In my office, now.”

I nodded and followed him without a word. But as soon as the door was shut and we were alone, I grabbed him by the shirt and slammed his back against the wall.





I sat on the dock, dangling my feet into the calm water below as I waited for Felicity in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks. Sans Bentley. Thinking maybe I should’ve brought the kid today, I grabbed the edge of the dock with both hands and stared down at my nervous reflection in the depths below.

What the f*ck did I think I was doing, meeting Abbott Bainbridge’s one and only daughter alone in the woods every day?

It’d been okay at first, like sharing aunt and uncle custody. She’d only wanted to get to know her niece. I was cool with that. But Felicity impressed the hell out of me on a daily basis. She wasn’t like any Bainbridge I’d ever met before. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. She didn’t put on airs and stare down her nose at me. She didn’t think all high and mighty of herself. She didn’t treat me like a nobody.

In fact, I don’t think anyone had ever treated me the way Felicity treated me, or looked at me the way she looked at me. Like I was something special. Like I was someone.

Her being one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen didn’t help ease my obsession with her, either. Which is probably why I kissed her, even if that had been the stupidest thing I’d ever done, because now I was well and truly addicted, and there was no turning back from where this was headed.

But, f*ck...it’d been worth it.

Her lips, her soft cheeks, her hair. I couldn’t wait to see her again.

So, here I sat, restless and eager for today’s rendezvous, even though I knew I should stay as far away from her as possible.

The slap of flip-flops on the dock behind me made my heart jump-start into high gear. A grin tugged at my lips. Of course she’d worn flip-flops through the woods. Only the most impractical shoes for my practical girl.

Except she wasn’t mine, and I shouldn’t forget that.

I wanted to whirl around and take in every inch of her. The craving was so strong I gripped the ledge harder until a splinter dug into my palm.

Because I did want to see her so desperately, I refused to even rotate my head enough to catch a glimpse. Keeping my back stiff, I asked, “Did you bring a suit?”

Her steps paused a few feet behind me. “Yes.”

“Then let’s swim.” I pushed off the dock and dove into the water, relishing the initial rush of cold flooding me, cooling my heated thoughts.

I swam out a ways under the surface before coming up for air. Shoving water out of my face and hair, I turned toward the dock to find her still standing there, holding a beach bag down at her side and wearing a long-ass T-shirt, no shorts, shades, and flip-flops.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” I called, waving her in to join me.

She continued to hesitate. I could see her chew on her bottom lip all the way from where I floated. A part of me hoped she turned and ran. This thing, whatever it was, between us could only lead to trouble. But a majority of me ached for her to throw caution to the wind and just dive in.

“Is it deep?” she asked.

“Very.”

Nodding, Felicity set her bag down beside her and slipped off her glasses before dropping them into the bag. Then her hand went to the hem of her shirt. I held my breath, waiting, anxious, hoping yet dreading. She lifted the cloth a few inches, exposing creamy white thighs. When she hesitated, I almost passed out because the peek she provided of that place where the top of her legs met up with her body was too much. It was covered in nothing but snug black Lycra and showed just enough of a gap between her thighs, I knew I could barely wedge my face in there perfectly.