Wilde at Heart (Wilde Security, #3)(67)

He hadn’t danced since his parents died. And, dammit, they had both loved to dance. Together, apart. It hadn’t mattered. If there was music playing, David and Meredith Wilde had been dancing.

What a way to not honor their memory.

Reece swayed a bit on his feet, but he felt awkward and foolish. No way was he getting his hips or arms involved in this disaster. He’d end up looking like one of those inflatable arm-flailing tube men and scare Shelby right into an annulment.

She moved in close and tugged on his bowtie until it fell loose. Having her so close, moving like she was, sparked a blaze inside him. He needed to touch her, skin to skin, and circled his hands around her hips, found himself moving with her. His heart kept time with the beat and he lowered his head, intending to kiss her—

The music screeched to a halt, and the room plunged into darkness, only to be relit by the eerie purple glow of black lights.

Shelby smiled up at him. “Here it comes.”

“What?”

Something like a cannon fired, and the music exploded back to life as neon glow-in-the-dark paint rained down over the thrilled crowd.

Shelby laughed and tilted her head back, letting the paint splash across her face and chest. She should have looked out of place in her gown, with her hair piled on top of her head in an elegant twist, as paint rained down on her—but she didn’t. She looked more like Shelby now, covered in streaks of neon green and pink and purple, than she had since they left Vegas. And that, more than anything else, made him feel like a complete ass for asking her to change. All of the color and brightness that made up the core of her being belonged on her clothes, in her hair, and written on her skin in ink.

Reece snaked a hand around the back of her neck, crushed her to him, and captured her mouth. She yielded to the domination of his lips and together they moved to the beat of the music. He didn’t hear cannons spew more paint or the shouts of joy as it rained down. He didn’t worry about looking stupid or about the bridges he’d burned tonight. Everything else faded away as his world narrowed to her.

And they danced.

It was late by the time they returned home, laughing and covered in dried paint. Shelby started stripping as soon as she set foot in the apartment, suggestively sliding one strap of her dress off her shoulder, then the other…

Dumbstruck and a little drunk, Reece watched her striptease, the way the sleek fabric caressed her body as she let it slide down to pool around her waist.

She turned to him, crooked a finger. “I think we need a shower, don’t you?”

Oh, yeah. They definitely, absolutely, without a doubt needed a shower.

He made sure the door was locked and reached to pull off his bowtie, only to discover he’d lost it somewhere during the night. Fine by him. One less article of clothing between him and the woman he wanted more than he wanted his next breath. He wasn’t careful with his vest or shirt, popping buttons as he fumbled to get them off. Shelby laughed and whirled around like she intended to race him, but only made it a few steps before skidding to a halt in the still torn-apart living room.

She crumpled to the floor as if the weight of the night had finally gotten too heavy to hold on her shoulders. Three long strides had him by her side and scooping her into his arms.

She curled into him. “I almost forgot.”

“We are forgetting it, okay? Just until tomorrow. Tonight was too good to end it on a sad note.” He carried her into the master bathroom and started the shower, setting her down under the warm spray. Fuck. He was still in his pants. He left the shower again long enough to strip and grab a washcloth from the linen closet. When he returned, she still hadn’t moved.

This wasn’t what he’d wanted. The whole point of taking her to a club had been to forget about the rest of the night. Stupid man that he was, he hadn’t even considered how she’d feel to return home to the mess her mother had made. Should have called one of his brothers to come over and straighten things while they were gone.

With his heart breaking for her, he soaped up the washcloth and ran it down her arm. Layers of paint and the makeup obscuring her tattoos washed away, and he reveled in each new inch of ink he uncovered. He smoothed his lips in the wake of the cloth, over the flowers and dragon crawling up her arm. He kissed each of the colorful birds taking flight on her collarbones. They were perfect representations of Shelby—bright, unrestrained, and full of vitality.

He straightened and stared down into her eyes, combing her wet hair back with his fingers. “I don’t ever want you to cover these up again.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled over to mingle with the shower water already sprinkling her face. “Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin you—”

“You can’t.” He cradled her face in his hands. “Listen, Shelby, you can’t ruin me. How could you? I’m a better person with you.”

Her breath hitched. “But all of your friends—”

“Fuck them. They’re not my friends. They’re all uptight, snobby *s, and I want nothing more to do with them. You are more important to me than maintaining whatever unattainable status quo they’ve set. I’m in love with you.”

“Oh no.” Sobbing openly now, she broke away from him and covered her face with both hands. “Oh, Reece, you can’t be. You can’t be. You have no idea what I’ve done…”