Asking for Trouble (Line of Duty #4)(44)

Silently, he waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he prodded her. “Talk to me, Hayden.”

She rubbed her arms, the breeze having turned cold. Brent gave in to his impulse and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. He couldn’t ignore the way they fit together. How right it felt. “My father, the man you charmed so effortlessly the other night, is actually my uncle. My father died when I was young, leaving me with my mother. She was young, far too young for a child, and they’d never bothered to get married. So my uncle took us in.” She laughed into his chest. “I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”

“I don’t either,” he said, hiding his shock over her revelation. “But I’m glad you are.”

“Okay. That’s good enough for me.” Slowly, her arms went around his waist. Brent closed his eyes against the foreign emotions bubbling in his chest. He sensed Hayden wanted to say more so once again, he reined in his need to fill the silence with whatever nonsense popped into his head. “He didn’t have to take us in. I kind of owe him for everything, you know? Even if sometimes it means I have to do things that are…difficult.”

Brent looked down at the top of her head, confused by her cryptic tone. He had the overwhelming feeling that she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t decipher it. Don’t push too hard or she’ll shut down. Still, he needed to say what was on his mind. “You don’t owe him. Look what he got out of the deal. A beautiful daughter who runs around making everyone else happy. If you ask me, he owes you.”

She stilled in his arms, looking up at him after a moment. “I wish it worked that way. It’s not always that simple.”

“Yes, it is.” He couldn’t account for the frisson of panic over the finality of her tone. What am I missing? “I say it is that easy for someone like you. And I’m not talking about the money. I’m talking about you.”

After a moment of staring up into his face thoughtfully, she brightened, although he could tell it took an effort on her part. “So…two jobs. One that includes the dismantling and rigging of explosives. A mortgage. Your sister’s college tuition. Supporting your brother’s family. I say you don’t know the first thing about easy, Mr. Mason.”

Oh boy, he liked her calling him that. Brent stiffened behind his fly. Ignore it. You’re having an actual meaningful conversation with her. He also couldn’t deny a flare of pleasure that she recognized his hard work. He’d never needed the recognition before, but his inner caveman had decided to make another appearance. That’s right, I take care of what’s mine. I’ll take care of you, too. Let me. Oh God, let me.

He kicked the caveman in the nuts and refocused on her. Downplayed his situation like he always did. “Yeah. Well, my brother will be home soon from overseas…and Lucy, she won’t be in college forever. The mechanic gig is temporary.”

“Don’t make light of it.” Hayden shook her head. “I’m sorry I ever did.”

“An apology from the duchess? Now who’s going soft?”

She bit her lip and ran her hands down his chest. He promptly forgot what he’d been saying. “I’ll tell you a secret in addition to my apology. That day at the garage…I would have let you have me on that desk. It would have taken very little effort. You came out looking so”—her nails scraped over his nipples—“rugged. I wanted to rip those coveralls off of you.”

“What did I tell you about speaking to me this way in public?”

When she laughed, he knew he didn’t quite pull off his warning tone. “So? What are you going to do about it?”

He growled low in his throat. “If you pretend for even a second that you’re not staying in my room tonight, there’s going to be trouble in Atlantic City.”

“Ooh. I like trouble.”

Before the words were completely out of her mouth, Brent hauled her over his shoulder. Hayden gasped, then couldn’t stop laughing as they walked down the empty boardwalk.

“You want trouble?” He smacked her ass. “You’ve got it, duchess.”





Chapter Fifteen


Hayden peeked out from under heavy eyelids, head still fuzzy from sleep. It took her mere seconds to remember the night before and where she’d fallen asleep. After all, she didn’t often wake up with two hundred and fifty pounds of solid, naked male wrapped around her. Brent’s arm was slung over her waist, anchoring her against his chest, preventing any movement. Her legs were trapped in between his heavier ones. She could feel his soft exhalations ruffling the hair on top of her head, but surprisingly, he didn’t snore. She’d have guessed he would snore like a grizzly bear.

It took her a moment to realize a huge smile had spread across her face. She was glad he’d trapped her in his muscle-man fortress, because she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to leave the bed in which they’d spent the night, making love for hours on end. He’d brought her to orgasm so many times she’d have to use her permanently curled toes to help count. She’d done the same for him. Teasing, tasting, torturing, until he reached his breaking point. They’d hid nothing from each other, reveling in weaknesses and strengths. Differences and similarities.

Last night would stand out in her memory for two reasons. One, as the night she’d been pleasured so thoroughly, she’d partially lost her voice from screaming. Second, as the night she realized she could never marry Stuart. She had no idea what lay between her and Brent, but she knew giving up this feeling wasn’t an option. She’d just discovered this entirely new side of herself and she needed to explore it. And by some strange miracle of nature, she could only imagine exploring it with Brent—someone who, up until a week ago, she’d despised with every fiber of her being. Someone she had practically nothing in common with. Yet as she lay snuggled against his body, she found herself looking forward to him waking up. Talking to him. And, oh yes, she could already feel that delicious tightening in her belly, the tickle between her thighs. He would know what to do. How to satisfy her.