“It’s okay, I’ll dodge. I want you to practice it so if it happens, it’s instinctive.”

  “I don’t know if I can actually try to hurt you.”

  “I told you, I won’t be there.” He releases me. “Now, I’m going to come up behind you and grab you fast. Get ready.”

  I don’t point out that him telling me to get ready sort of defeats the whole purpose. I suppose the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can seduce him in my darkroom.

  “I’ve got you now,” he growls, wrapping an arm around my neck.

  Closing my eyes, I jam my elbow back into his stomach as fast as I can.

  “Ow! Shit! Oh, my God!” Bending forward, I clutch my elbow, squinting my eyes against the pain. “I think I broke it!”

  “What the hell?” He walks to where I’ve collapsed on a bale of hay, holding my arm.

  “It’s like hitting a brick wall.” I rub the spot where I hit his abs as the pain gradually fades away. “Why do I have to learn all this anyway? You’re always with me.”

  “What if I’m not? What about when you’re in New York for the show?”

  “Wait–you’re not going to be at my show?” Sadness hits me in the solar plexus.

  “Of course, I’ll be at your show.” He sits beside me, putting a strong arm around my shoulders. “But I’m sure there will be times when we’re not together.”

  Looking up at him, all the sadness washes away. “You’re worried about me. That’s so sweet.”

  “It’s not sweet. It’s realistic. I’ll get you a can of pepper spray.”

  “You big faker. You are so sweet.” Turning into his chest, I trace my finger over his cheek as he inhales deeply. “Stop acting impatient and come with me to the darkroom. I want to show you the pictures I took of you.”

  Scar stands speechless in front of the poster-sized photos of him on the beach. My stomach is so tight, I can’t breathe. I want him to say something, anything. Instead, he places both hands behind his neck. It’s a sexy pose that has me reaching for my camera.

  “You are truly an artist.” His voice is hushed, and he walks down the line, inspecting all the poster-sized prints I hung to dry.

  Embarrassment heats my face. I don’t have an answer for that, and I feel all squishy inside. It’s such an amazing compliment.

  “A photographer once told me we’re not God; we don’t create our subjects. If we’re good, we find the spark of life inside and capture it.”

  “You captured it.” His voice is quiet, and he pauses at the prints of Pepper and Ainsley. Then he returns to the images of him on the beach, shaking his head. “You’re the first person who found the spark in me.”

  I’m not sure whether to be happy or sad he would think this. “I made something for you.”

  Going to the table, I take out a wallet-sized print of the photo I took of us in bed, our first time together. Despite his running away after one shot, it came out really well. My eyes are shining with a happiness I didn’t know I possessed, and his gaze is intense and broody, but so full of love.

  “You can put it in your wallet or a frame.” I’m suddenly self-conscious at my presumption. “Or not.”

  He takes the photo and studies it silently. My throat is so tight, I feel a little queasy. Finally, he glances up at me. “I’ll keep it with me always.”

  I don’t know why that makes me want to cry. Exhaling a little laugh, I tilt my head to the side, thinking of the question I’ve always wanted to ask. “How were you burned?”

  He takes a beat, then in the darkness, he tells me.

  “I was with Hutch. We’d just finished our last tour together–when he was still a Marine. We were driving back to the base when we came upon a restaurant fire. It was a remote location. The people had done all they could to get everyone out, but a little girl was still inside.”

  “So you ran into a burning building to save a little girl?” I can’t hold back anymore. Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around him, placing my cheek against his chest. “You’re a real hero.”

  His body tenses, and I lift my face to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I did something brave–some would call it foolish. It doesn’t make me a hero.”

  “Isn’t that what real heroes always say?”

  He shakes his head as if to argue, and I step closer.

  “You’re a hero to me.”

  He still seems uncomfortable, but I know what he’s done for me.

  “You say I found the spark in you, but I only captured the way you were looking at me.” Sliding my hand up his chest, I clutch the thin tank with my fingers. “Come down here.”

  His brow relaxes, and he leans down for my kiss. Our lips part, and his tongue slides against mine. It lights the flame simmering beneath my skin. Curling my fingers in his shirt, I drag him closer until my butt hits the table.

  I’m ravenous, needing all of him. Sliding my hand down, I cup and massage the erection growing beneath his sexy as fuck sweatpants.

  He groans as my fingers move inside the fabric to his bare skin, no underwear. “Will your uncle hear?”

  “I have the light on. No one bothers me when I have the light on.” His chin lifts, and he looks towards the door.

  “I don’t know.”

  Hooking my fingers in my yoga pants, I quickly slide them down my legs. “Please fuck me,” I beg.

  Even in the dim light of the darkroom, I see the desire flare in his eyes. Closing the space between us, he lifts me as easily as if I weigh nothing, and in a few steps my back is to the wall.

  His hands move under my panties to my drenched core, and he slips a finger inside, moving the side of it back and forth over my humming clit. I exhale a moan, loving every aggressive touch of his hand.

  “Why are you so wet, beautiful girl?” His low groan thrills me to my core. “Tell me.”

  “Because I want you to fuck me. I need you inside me. Please.” The words come out in a rush, and his lips seal over mine.

  His beard scrapes my skin, and his tongue invades my mouth. Gripping his neck, I kiss him back with the same force, curling my tongue with his, devouring him with the same level of eagerness.

  He lowers his pants, and my belly tenses. I want him so much, I actually ache. The tip of his cock nudges at my core, and I lift my knees. His hands grip my ass, and in one swift move, he glides fully into me.

  “Oh, fuck, yes,” I moan.

  My fingers curl against his shoulders, and I suck his tongue as I pull his ass closer with my heels. He’s impaling me against the wall, and it feels so fucking good.

  Another groan strains from his throat, and our mouths break apart. “You feel too good, angel. I can’t hold back…” His voice breaks, and a flutter squeezes my core.

  Arching my back I ride him. I’m on fire, a column of need, and he’s inside me pumping, stroking my orgasm higher.

  Pushing with my thighs, I find his rhythm and match it. My eyes roll closed, and the heat in my pussy begins to tingle and build into pleasure.

  As if driven by primal need, I claw at my top, ripping it over my head to free my breasts. His mouth clamps on a hardened nipple, and I let out a loud moan as electricity ricochets through my insides.

  I’m trembling, fluttering, coming undone in the most intense way. I move faster, gripping at his shirt, needing his skin against mine. His mouth moves higher, climbing to my shoulder, and when his teeth bite my skin, the orgasm explodes in my belly.

  “God, yes,” I cry as my eyes roll shut.

  Our thighs are slick, and I hear him coming as well. He pumps once more then stiffens, holding inside me and jerking slightly. He lifts his chin as if to howl, and as his cock pulses, flooding me with his come, another shimmer of orgasm tightens my insides.

  Stretching higher, I slide my tongue from his collarbone to his Adam’s apple. Salt fills my mouth, and I hum with satisfaction.

  My pussy is throbbing. His taste is in my mouth, and I’m surrounded by the rich scents of sandalwood, sweat, and desire.

  We’re fused together, breathing heavily, stunned and satisfied by our hunger and our passion. His large hands still hold my ass, and he levels his eyes on mine.

  He blinks once, and a slow grin curls his lips. My beautiful monster, my gorgeous hero.

  18

  Scar

  Hutch paces the office laying out the plan, but I’m distracted. The only thing I can think about is Hana, loving her, being with her.

  I’m like a teenager having his first sexual experience. I can’t get enough of her, and I can’t think of anything but how soon I can be inside her again.

  “So next week they’ll stay at their mother’s apartment in the Andover building.” Hutch slides his finger over his iPad. “Dirk booked us rooms in a hotel around the block under assumed names. We’ll have to be careful with our comings and goings so we’re not detected.”

  “What?” My attention snaps to him at once.

  “Glad you could join us,” Hutch quips, but I’m not in the mood for teasing.

  “Why are they going to New York next week? Hana’s show isn’t for another month.”

  “They have to meet with the gallery curator. Apparently, it takes weeks to prepare for these things. They want to see what she’s got, arrange the rooms, create marketing materials. Blake said they’re actually starting a little late, but it’s a small gallery.”

  Fuck. My chin drops. I still haven’t talked to her about our plan, my background. “When are they expected to be there?”

  “Blake said Monday. They’re taking Hugh’s private jet.”

  “Does Hana know?”

  “I have no idea, but I expect Blake will discuss it with her.”

  I still have time…

  Hutch continues. “It’s the perfect opportunity to see if anyone comes sniffing around. It's a low-key affair; no one will expect us to be there. Not a lot of publicity like the night of the opening. If someone’s going to make a move, this is a great time for it.”

  “And by move, we mean…” I’m on edge, feeling like I’m playing fast catchup.

  “Hell, I don’t know. It could be anything. Retaliation for Greg’s death? Another blackmail attempt? Hana owes money all over town.”

  “If it’s blackmail, why not text?”

  “They tried that last time, and it didn’t work.” Dirk’s voice is thoughtful. “Maybe they’ll try kicking it up a notch, cornering them in a back alley.”

  The suggestion makes my throat tight. I need to get her that pepper spray.

  “It could be something as simple as menacing eye contact.” Hutch shrugs. “It’s a fishing expedition.”

  I don’t like it.

  The bell dings above the door, interrupting our meeting, and a well-dressed man steps into the office. He has light brown hair and large brown eyes that seem familiar to me, but I can’t quite place why.

  He’s fit like an athlete, and he glances from me to Hutch then to Dirk, who stands from where he’d been reclining with his feet on the desk. “Can we help you?”

  “I’m sorry, I was looking for Hutch Winston?”

  Dirk glances at the two of us. “What’s this about, friend?”

  I shift in my stance, crossing my arms over my chest. This guy isn’t tall. He might be five-ten, and he’s clean cut. He could be a lawyer or some other white-collar type.

  “It’s about his sister, Judy. I have reason to believe we might… share a daughter?”

  My eyebrows shoot up–I see it now. The big brown eyes.

  You could hear a pin drop. I glance at Hutch, who looks like someone threw a pan of ice water in his face.

  Dirk continues, like a silent bomb didn’t just explode. “And you are?”

  “Teal Masters.” He holds out a hand to Hutch’s brother. “Are you Mr. Winston?”

  “I’m Dirk Winston.” Dirk’s brow arches. “Teal Masters… I recognize that name. You play ball?”

  The guy’s chin dips, and he grins as if he’s embarrassed. “Shortstop for the Brooklyn Cyclones. I’m surprised you’ve heard of me.”

  “I have friends in Brooklyn. I guess Judy did, too.” He looks over at Hutch. “This is my brother Hutch. Judy was our younger sister.”

  “The Brooklyn Cyclones?” Hutch’s voice is careful.

  “Minor League Baseball.” The guy holds back, which leads me to believe he’s not dumb. “Judy did some freelance work for the team, mostly marketing and stuff. She was a good friend.”

  “So you were friends?” I can sense the protective heat vibrating off my friend.

  “We palled around.” His eyes drop to his shoes. “One night we were out drinking, and I guess we had a little too much. I didn’t think anything of it. I definitely wasn’t angry, but she disappeared.”

  “Nobody disappears.” Dirk’s voice is quiet, but even he has an edge now.

  “She didn’t come into work again, and I guess I got distracted by the new season. Time passed, and before I realized it…” His voice lowers. “A lot of time had passed.”

  “So you never called her.” Hutch crosses his arms, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his older-brother rage.

  Teal seems to understand his position. “Hey, I’m not looking for trouble. Judy never called me either, and when I started looking for her, I found out she’d passed. Then one of the guys said he heard she’d had a baby. I just wanted to know if there’s anything I need to know or do…”

  “Where are you staying?” Hutch isn’t interested in his bullshit, and I can’t say I blame him.

  “I’m over in Miranda Beach.”

  “Good.” Hutch levels his gaze on him. “Stay there. You start poking around, asking questions, and the whole town will be talking. I don’t want that for Pepper.”

  “Pepper?” The guy looks up at him. “That was my mother’s nickname.”

  A low growl comes from Hutch’s throat, and Dirk crosses the room, taking Teal by the arm. “Let’s go for a walk. I don’t like you, but I’m less lethal than he is.”

  Teal’s brow furrows, and I know he wants to say more. He wants to defend himself, but Dirk knows his brother better than any of us. Dirk was here when Judy passed, and he knows how hard it hit Hutch. He also knows how protective Hutch is of Pepper–we all are.

  The door slams shut, and I look at my friend. His nostrils are flared like a raging bull, and I consider calling Blake. She’s the only person he’ll listen to when he’s like this, which is saying a lot.

  Still, it would take too long for her to get here, and I can’t let him go off this way.

  “I don’t know anything about family.” My voice is low, and I clear my throat. “I was dumped in the fucking tundra at ten and left to figure it out.”

  Hutch cuts his green eyes at me. “That fucker is not you. Not by a longshot.”

  “Still, it takes a lot of courage to face your past. I think Pepper would want to know her dad came looking for her.” My voice is grave, but I speak from the heart. “I would’ve wanted to know.”

  My friend’s jaw grinds, and his eyes slide closed. “If he hurts her… If he breaks her heart or makes her hope for something he can’t deliver–”

  Nodding, I understand his concern. Hutch loves Pepper like his own daughter. She’s been his since Judy died when she was nine. Even before that, Judy lived with him full-time, so he was there when Pepper was a baby. Now that Judy is dead, Pepper is all he has left of his sister.

  “You’ve always made good decisions. I know you’ll handle this right.”

  “I have no idea how to handle this. I have no idea what I’m doing almost all the time when it comes to Pepper.” It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen him, and fuck, I don’t know what to do with that–or what to tell him.

  “Talk to Blake.” It might be a cop-out, but still… “She’s a woman; she’s been Pepper’s age. She lost her dad when she was young. For that matter, you might talk to Hana. She and Pepper are really close.”

  His brow furrows, and he nods. “I didn’t trust Hana at first, but I was wrong about that. She might be a good place to start.”

  “Hana’s come a long way.” Even I can hear the pride in my voice. “She’ll help you.”

  Exhaling a low groan, he scrubs his fingers over his dark brow. “Like we have time for this right now.”

  “Maybe Carmen can help while we’re in New York. Or Lurlene?” I’m grasping at straws, because I understand him being focused on Blake but also worrying about Pepper. “If you need to stay behind–”

  “I’m not sending Blake to New York unprotected.”

  “Dirk and I will be there, and I think Hana’s the main one we need to focus on.” As much as I hate to say it.

  His jaw clenches, and he looks down. “I’ll talk to Blake. I’ll think about it and let you know.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to your lady.” Gripping his shoulder, I give him a tight smile. “Or mine.”

  19

  Hana

  I’m hanging out in the store with Carmen when Dirk walks through the door. We both straighten, and I hop over to give him a hug.

  “Hey, bro! Are you behaving today?”

  His brow is furrowed, and he seems distracted. “There’s a fellow outside I’d like you to meet.”

  Twisting my lips, I’m not sure what to make of that response. “Is he a cop?”

  “What?” Dirk blinks at me, and I shrug.

  “I asked if you were behaving, and you want me to meet some man?”

  The bell rings on the cash register, signaling the end of Carmen’s transaction. A small group of tourists ambles out the door, and she walks over to where we’re standing.

  “Hey, Dirk, what’s up?”

  The store is empty, and he glances over his shoulder before leaning closer. “I’ve got this guy with me, Teal Masters. He says he’s Pepper’s dad.”

  “Pepper’s dad!” Carmen’s eyebrows shoot up, and Dirk lifts his hand.

  “Keep it down. We don’t want the whole town talking.”

  “It’s only us here, Sherlock.” She cuts her eyes at him, and I think she’s right. Carmen and Dirk are too snarky for their own good.