Brave Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #3)(32)
—
“I’m sorry you had to hear my father say those things. He has no idea who you really are. He’s just . . . he’s a . . .”
I hear the soft rumble of Tag’s chuckle. “Sticks and stones, Weatherly. Sticks and stones.”
I let the conversation drop, unwilling to let my father mar one more second of my time with this man.
Tag sits up suddenly, resting his hand on my bare stomach. “Come down to Enchantment with me today.”
I love the excitement on his face, even though I’m sort of exhausted by it. After an orgasm-filled, nearly sleepless night, a dramatic morning, the world’s most romantic picnic on my bed, and then incredibly slow, sensual sex, my energy level is at rock bottom.
Yet, as I look up into Tag’s handsome face, as I lose myself in his swirling silver eyes, I feel my enthusiasm return. This man, this gorgeous, charismatic, highly desirable man, wants to spend the day with me. Why would I not be enthusiastic about that?
“For what?” I ask. After such an emotional hour or so, I don’t want to seem too eager. Even though I am. I think I’ve revealed quite enough of myself to Tag for one day.
“I want you to meet some of my friends.”
I’m immediately skeptical. “The ones who sent Cher?”
He cringes visibly. “Yes, but that’s why I want you to meet them.”
That seems backward, but whatever. And truth be told, I’m interested in Tag’s friends, in his life outside this place.
My hesitation must make him think I need convincing. “While yes, Rogan is the one who sent Cher, he’s really a great guy. He’s just got a . . . different sense of humor. He’s like a brother to me, though,” he confesses, his expression turning serious. “We were in the military together. Spent several years in Delta Five together. Right up until I had to come home. He’s saved my life more times than I can count. We’ve all saved each other’s life dozens of times. He’s as much family as my mom is.”
After hearing that, a team of guerilla warfare experts couldn’t keep me away. “Sounds like a trip I don’t want to miss.”
“Oh, so that’s what it takes to convince you,” Tag complains, flopping down on top of me. “It wasn’t enough that you get to spend the day with me.” He bends his head to capture a nipple, worrying it with his lips and tongue until it comes to a tingling, begging peak.
“It’s not that at all,” I tell him in an already breathy voice. “It just took a pretty tempting offer to get me to leave this bed today.”
He lifts his head and pins me with his gleaming gray eyes. They’re so pale they seem almost backlit in the olive expanse of his face. “Well, when you put it like that, I don’t want to go now. I didn’t realize staying in bed all day was an option.”
I can feel the pressure of his growing erection against the inside of my thigh. “I think that should always be an option,” I respond, my heart melting as quickly as my bones beneath the passionate intensity of his gaze.
“Mmmm, the perfect woman,” he says, trailing his hand down my belly to my simmering center. “Just perfect.”
My last thought is that I guess Enchantment can wait for another hour or so.
—
I might be sheltered and well bred, but I doubt there’s a woman with a pulse who doesn’t know who Kiefer Rogan is. MMA champ, Hollywood up-and-comer, playboy charmer—his face has littered dozens of magazines and gossip sheets since he started dating vacuous starlets. I had no idea that Tag’s Rogan was that Rogan until we pulled up in front of a gorgeous, contemporary home in the gated hills of Enchantment’s “little Hollywood” subdivision. I was immediately uncomfortable and wished that I’d opted for staying in bed after all. But it was too late to back out, so I let Tag drag me up the geometric walk to a tall front door.
The beautiful woman who answered Tag’s knock, however, was not at all what I was expecting. I took to Katie instantly. I doubt I’ve ever met a more down-to-earth, relatable person than Katie. While she’s extremely pretty with her rich auburn hair and her twinkling blue eyes, she also has some scarring down the side of her neck. While it doesn’t detract from her in the least, I admire the fact that, in the world of glamorous perfection in which Rogan obviously lives, she is comfortable with who she is, flaws and all. I’m sure it helps that Rogan adores her. It was obvious from the moment he trotted up behind her at the door, kissing her scarred neck and smiling happily at us from over her petite head that he thinks she hung the moon.
“Tag, good to see you, man,” Rogan said, pulling him in for a bear hug.
After the two men released each other, Tag then leaned in to kiss Katie on the cheek. “He still hasn’t managed to run you off, I see.”
Katie smiled and twisted to look up at Rogan over her shoulder. “He’s never getting rid of me.”
“Not if I have to chain you to my bed,” he’d answered. His expression had taken on a wicked look. “Wait, on second thought, try to leave. I wouldn’t mind chaining you to the bed for a few days.”
Katie had playfully ribbed him in the stomach. It was plain to see that they’re incredibly well suited and happy together. My heart stung with envy from that point on.
Now, however, as I get to know them both over imported beer and homemade pizza (made in a brick oven built into the outdoor fireplace by the pool), I find that I’m thrilled for them. Just thrilled, even if I’m never able to have something so wonderful in my life.