Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)(89)
I opened the front door and just stood there for a second. She had been busy in the months I had been locked up. Instead of just the bare-bones furniture I had left, the place was now decorated. There were pillows on the couch, a rug on the floor under the coffee table, and the walls were no longer boring beige. It looked lived in and comfortable; it looked like her.
I did a double take at the sight of the candles she had burning on one of the end tables and made my way into the kitchen to see if I could find her there. I don’t think I had ever been in a house that had candles in it. That just seemed so out of the realm of the life I lived, I was having a hard time getting my head around it.
The kitchen was empty, but stocked full. The cabinets had food, the fridge was full, and she had put place mats on the little dining room table. I let my gaze rake fondly over the kitchen counter, dirty thoughts of having her splayed out and begging dancing behind my eyes. Five years without sex was no joke; three months without sex, when you had just figured out who the person you wanted to have sex with for the rest of your life was, was flat-out torture.
I called out her name as lightly as I could. I didn’t want to scare her, and if she really didn’t want to see me, I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to run away from me. But if she did, I would chase her down and make her listen to me, make her realize I couldn’t do this anymore without her. This life was always going to be brutal and dark, and she needed to be the one bright spot in it.
I walked through the kitchen to the back of the house where the master bedroom was. When I got closer, I could hear soft music coming from the under the closed door. I knocked lightly before twisting the knob and walking in. The big king bed that had been covered in plain sheets now had a charcoal-and-black comforter on in, and pillows that looked like they had been professionally fluffed up. There were lamps on the end table that looked like they were made from chrome and metal, and she had hung dark drapes over the window. There was a bloodred rug that covered a huge section of the hardwood floor that should look gaudy and harsh, but just added an edge to the dark furnishings. It looked like a sexy and dark retreat. The rest of the house looked like her, but this space she had decorated with me in mind. It was heavier, it looked a little mean, and I loved everything about it.
Once the initial shock wore off, I heard the water running in the attached bathroom. I took a deep breath and walked over to the open doorway. I was going to freak her out just showing up out of the blue like this, especially if she was naked and vulnerable in the shower. I debated waiting for her to finish, thought about calling out to her to let her know I was there, but in the end I just walked into the bathroom, already pleading my case.
“Copper-Top? I’m so sorry I wouldn’t see you when I got locked up. It was a dick move and I was being a coward, but please hear me out.”
It was steamy and she had a radio on playing some kind of rock. The mirror was fogged over and my chest got tight when I noticed that in the steam she had written:
I BAX
The glass door to the walk-in shower whipped open and I was faced with a naked and wet Dovie who didn’t look at all surprised to see me. Her bright hair was a red curtain down her back and draped over her shoulders. Her eyes were big in her face as she blinked the still-running water out of them, but all I could see was the scar arching over the top of each of her perfect br**sts. Instead of a V, it almost looked like a crudely etched bird in flight. It was still pink and looked freshly healed. It was big and not all together ugly, but there shouldn’t have ever been any situation where her perfect skin was marred with such violence and ugliness.
“It’s about time you showed up. If you were a no-show by Monday, I was coming to find you. Welcome home, Bax.”
I jerked my head up from her chest to meet her eyes. I think she had tears in them, but it was hard to tell with the water and the steam separating us.
“What? Titus and Race both told me you were over it.”
She lifted her hands over her head and ran them along her long fall of hair. Some of the blood thundering in my head raced below my belt.
“They were just trying to get you to pull your head out of your ass. I was mad you wouldn’t see me, and I felt awful you were sitting in jail for something you didn’t do, but I understood it. I understand you, Bax. Eventually you’re going to have to accept that.”
I took a few steps closer to the shower. There was water leaking out onto the floor and my boots squeaked across the tile as I got close enough to touch her. I didn’t, not yet, but I made sure she could see what I was feeling in my eyes.
“I would never want this for you. Me, this life, the messed-up shit that comes with it, but I missed you. I care about you and can never repay you for what you did for me. You set me free. I would die for you . . .”
My voice trailed off and I got a little choked up. I reached out a finger, I should’ve been embarrassed it was shaking, that I was shaking, and I touched the very center of her scar where it dipped in the crevice of her naked br**sts. Her chest rose and fell in a heavy breath, but her eyes were steady on mine. In fact, she seemed a hundred times steadier than me.
“I know you would die for me, Bax.” Her voice was just above a whisper and all I wanted to do was pull her to me and never let her go again. “What I need to know is if you are willing to live for me? I know you’re always going to be this guy who lives a dangerous life, who takes risks and pushes limits left and right. I can deal with all of that—hell, it’s part of what makes you so irresistible. What I can’t handle, what breaks my heart, is that you live every day like it’s your last, like it doesn’t matter if you don’t make it to the next one. It does matter. It matters to me, it matters to your brother, it matters to Race—but it has to matter to you, Bax. You have to understand that you matter.”