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Authors: Mari Carr

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Blake chuckled. “If you do that, I’ll have to pull out my handcuffs and arrest you.”

She was tempted to slam the door in his face, then reconsidered as a wide smile crossed her face. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Blake’s lowered brows betrayed his sudden suspicion at her quick change in demeanor. “You like the idea of handcuffs?” He grinned, his dirty mind kicking in.

“No, perv, I don’t.” She was lying, but she wasn’t about to admit her libido had suddenly jerked into gear at the thought. “You realize you’re about to willingly walk into the lion’s den, right? My brothers will tear you limb from limb.”

Unfortunately her threat didn’t faze the infuriating man. “I’m banking on your mother to protect me. But just in case,” he patted his hip, drawing her attention to his holster, “I’m packing.”

There was no way she could convince him to leave and time was up anyway. If she stalled much longer, her brothers’ curiosity would win out and they’d all manage to make their way to the front door, lazy jackasses or not. She stepped aside, allowing Blake to enter.

He glanced around the entryway, looking fondly at the photographs and furniture. “It’s exactly the way I remember it.”

“Everyone is in the dining room and my food is getting cold.” Her tone was short and annoyed, but she didn’t feel like playing nice. He didn’t deserve it. He’d hurt her worse than anyone in her life and while that wound had been inflicted nearly a decade earlier, it ached as if it had happened only yesterday.

She hated that she’d let him get so deep inside her he still had the power to cause her pain.

Blake waited for her to lead the way. She kept her eyes on her mother as they entered the room together. She didn’t have to look at her brothers to see how pissed off they were.

Jett stood, his stance pure aggression. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited him,” Mama replied, as if bringing the man who’d stolen from their family into their home was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, for their mother, it was. Her capacity for forgiveness was limitless.

Chloe could only assume that attribute skipped a generation because God knew she couldn’t find it in herself right now.

Her mother rose, then gestured to an empty chair next to her as she grabbed a plate from the sideboard. “Help yourself, Blake.”

He smiled his thanks as he took a seat. “I apologize for being late. Wound up pulling some overtime after the midnight shift. Lots of idiots on the street last night. Took me a few extra hours to finish the paperwork.”

Chloe reclaimed her seat, grateful that Justin sat between her and Blake.

Blake kept his attention on her mother, pointedly ignoring the glares he was receiving from everyone else at the table. “I was sorry to hear about Papa Lewis.”

Mama smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Blake. We all miss him something terrible.”

That was an understatement, but Chloe didn’t say anything. Though her father had passed away three years ago, sometimes it felt as if he was just away, working on the oil rig and that he’d be back, crashing through the front door with that loud bellow of his, telling all his kids to get their asses downstairs so he could hug them. Her father had been a giant of a man—Caliph and Jett had gotten his stature—but as gentle as a butterfly.

“And what is your father up to these days, Blake?” her mother asked.

Blake fell silent for only a moment, then gave her a rueful smile. “He’s up to twelve months served on a twenty-year stint in prison.”

“Oh, I see.”

Blake shrugged. “Not surprised, are you?”

Mama shook her head. “Not really, but I
am
sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Blake’s voice was harder than Chloe had ever heard it. “I’m the one who put him there.”

“You put your own father in jail?” Jennifer asked.

Blake looked at Jennifer, clearly waiting for an introduction. Caliph quickly did so. “This is my girlfriend, Jen.”

Blake smiled. “Nice to meet you, and yeah, I did. He was selling drugs at some of the local schools. And not just marijuana, but ecstasy and heroin. I think there are a lot of people better off with him in jail.”

Chloe put her fork down, unable to swallow through the lump that had grown in her throat. She knew Blake’s childhood hadn’t been easy, but he’d never shared many details about it with her. She hadn’t known him at all until the summer he’d gotten a job at the sub place near the community college she attended. They’d both gone to different public schools, growing up on opposite ends of the city.

“I’m sorry, too,” Chloe said softly. Blake caught her gaze, his eyes reflecting too many emotions to register—sadness, regret, anger, remorse. She looked away rather than face them. She’d seen all those things when they first met as well.

Maybe she was more like her mother than she realized—inexplicably drawn to people in pain, in need of rescue. Though Blake sure as hell hadn’t let her save him. She doubted that would change now and she refused to be pulled back into Blake’s life.

Jett broke the silence. “Guess the police force is a more interesting job than Sid’s Sub Shop. Isn’t that where you used to work?”

Blake nodded. “Yeah. Met Chloe there. She used to do homework between classes at the table in the corner.” He faced her once more. “You still put down those Italian subs like you’re never going to eat again?”

Her brothers chuckled. She flashed them all dirty looks until they sobered up.

Blake may be older, but the bad boy was still there, lurking beneath his skin. She could see it in his face as he gave her a crooked grin.

It was the same smile that had captured her attention back in college. She’d taken one look at the bad boy behind the shop counter and fallen hard. A lot of people had tried to warn her away from him, telling her stories about how he stole beer and cigarettes from convenience stores, drove his motorcycle like he had a death wish and vandalized buildings. Blake had never denied the stories, but he’d never gotten caught either.

It hadn’t mattered to her at the time because when he was with her, he had been sweet and funny. Her badass biker boyfriend. Given her goodie-goodie status, it had felt scandalous to be with someone with a reputation and wonderful to be so adored by him. She’d always hoped she had helped him be a better person, while he taught her how to be just a little bit wicked. Whatever they’d done for each other, there had never been a doubt in her mind that Blake had loved her.

Until he disappeared. Then she’d spent months—years—wondering what had been real and what had been lies. In the end, she’d felt used and stupid. And so angry.

“It was wonderful of you to volunteer to participate in the calendar.” Her mom looked genuinely pleased and almost grateful.

Why was Chloe the only person who remembered the past?

Chloe snorted at her mother’s praise, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “He drew the short straw.”

Blake grinned, while Mama looked confused. “Short straw?”

Blake leaned back in his chair, looking far too comfortable and at home. “It’s a good cause. I don’t mind helping out.”

Caliph rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you don’t. As I recall, you don’t have a bit of trouble strutting around with your shirt off.”

Chloe gave Blake a superior smile, grateful for Caliph’s snide comment. Finally. She’d warned him about her brothers’ anger and though it would cost her in good karma, it felt good to watch them give Blake shit.

Blake crossed his arms, drawing too much attention to the muscles bulging beneath his t-shirt. “I figure those of us who haven’t let ourselves go owe it to those who have to step forward. By the way, I don’t remember seeing your name on the list of models, Caliph.”

Caliph’s eyes darkened as Jennifer slowly wrapped her hand around his wrist. Chloe was trying to decide if the touch was a warning or Jennifer’s way of holding Caliph in his seat.

“I’m still trying to convince my sons to participate. We have two slots open.” Mama gave Caliph a hopeful glance.

“I told you, Mama, I don’t think the older members of your group would embrace the idea of a guy covered in tattoos.”

Jennifer shook her head as if the argument was a familiar one. “I told him that only
every
woman who bought the calendar would be into that, but he’s stubborn.”

Caliph gave Jennifer a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Not every woman in the world is as open-minded as you, Jen. There are plenty out there who still turn up their noses when they see my ink. Besides, I have no desire to make a jackass of myself, posing like some king of
GQ
.”

Mama looked from Caliph to Justin, but he cut her off at the pass. “Don’t look at me. I already suckered Ned into doing it. You only need one marketing exec.” Ned Kinnaman was Justin’s partner at their advertising firm and one of the sexiest men Chloe had ever met. She was actually a bit nervous about photographing Ned. He literally oozed sex and sin.

Justin laughed when he spotted Chloe’s flushed cheeks. “See,” he pointed at her, making her blush even more. “That’s what Ned’s going to bring to the calendar. I’ve done my part.”

Chloe scowled at her brother for embarrassing her, then she caught a glimpse of jealousy in Blake’s gaze. Revenge reared its beautiful head.

“I’m not going to lie, Justin,” she said as she fanned herself. “I’m really looking forward to Ned’s day to pose. He’s February, and I’m envisioning putting him on my bed with red silk sheets, completely naked, except for a box of chocolates covering his—”

“I think we get the gist,” Justin said, cutting her off and pretending to shudder. “We don’t need to hear the dirty details about your photo shoots with all those sexy bachelors. Good thing you’re single. You can have some fun as you work.” He winked at her, careful to make sure Blake couldn’t see his face.

Chloe loved her oldest brother and his nose for mischief. She had absolutely no intention of posing Ned that way and Justin knew it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t help her get a few digs in at Blake.

“I didn’t realize the photos were going to be risqué,” Blake said.

Mama frowned. “Neither did I.”

Oops. Chloe would have to tell her mom she was joking before she left today or she was liable to receive concerned phone calls from every woman on the fundraising committee tonight.

The rest of the meal passed much more easily than Chloe would have expected. Conversation turned to innocuous things as Justin described his latest project and Caliph and Jennifer talked about the long weekend trip they’d planned to take to Key West. Blake was a polite guest, answering questions about his work and complimenting her mother’s cooking.

Once dessert and coffee had been consumed, the family began to rise. Jett and Justin made their goodbyes, both claiming to have other plans, while Zac, Jennifer and Caliph went to the living room to watch TV. Her mother was tidying the kitchen, which left Chloe alone with Blake.

Blake peered toward the kitchen door. “Let me pop into the kitchen to thank your mom and then I’m going to head out.”

Chloe nodded as Blake disappeared into the kitchen. She walked to the front door to wait, anxious to see the frustrating man on his way. Her insides felt like churned butter and she was tempted to move Blake’s photo shoot forward, simply so she could get it over with.

She cheered herself up with a mental pep talk. She’d meet him at Lake Pontchartrain—she had no intention of ever getting on his motorcycle again—take the pictures, then turn around and walk away. This time, it was Blake who was going to see taillights. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than three or four hours. Surely she could survive that much more time in his presence.

“That’s a deep thought.”

She was startled by his voice, jumping slightly when she realized Blake was standing right next to her.

She put her hand on the doorknob, ready to get him the hell out of her mother’s house, but paused. “Should I pat you down to make sure you aren’t sneaking off with something?”

She felt horrible the moment the words crossed her lips, but there was something about seeing Blake again that was bringing out the worst in her. She didn’t consider herself a bitter person by nature, but for days, all she’d been able to summon was cold, hard anger. Well, that…and lust.

Blake took her comment in stride, lifting his arms. “You won’t hear any complaints from me. Take your time on that area below the waist. Lots of pockets down there.”

She blew out an exasperated breath, though she was able to admit she’d walked right into that one. “Don’t be such a pig.”

“Hey, you’re the one who offered. I’ve never looked a gift horse in the mouth. Should I turn around?” He spun, lifting his hands to the wall. The position sent her eyes straight to his ass, which he wiggled for her amusement.

One brief burst of laughter escaped before she could shut it down. Damn him. “Turn around and get out, you idiot.”

“I love your laughter.”

Chloe tried to ignore the tug his soft comment evoked. It had always been there between them—this electrical current that flowed hot and powerful, tying them together in ways Chloe could never understand…or fight. It was always sparks, heat, energy and painful need.

“Walk outside with me.”

Blake had her hand in his before she could refuse. It appeared his take-no-prisoners attitude was still there as well. She’d followed his lead when she was nineteen because she was young and inexperienced. If he still thought she was that same silly girl who would come merely because he beckoned, he was destined for disappointment. She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip tightened.

They participated in a mini tug-of-war all the way to his motorcycle. Once they were there, he reached for a helmet. “Hop on.”

She laughed at his audacity. “No.”

“Get on the bike, Chloe. You need to get away for a little while. I can see it in your face. When is the last time you escaped, letting wind and the road take over until you forgot everything and everyone?”

Ten years ago.

She didn’t say it aloud, but something in Blake’s expression told him he knew the answer. “I’m not getting on the motorcycle with you. Not now. Not ever again.”

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