Jagged Hearts (5 page)

“This is nice,” she said.

“Gilly claims he bought the building just to get the pond,” Bare told her.

She agreed with Gilly on the decision to purchase. The pond was beautiful and inviting. On a different day, when she’d been a different person, she might have thrown caution to the wind and dove straight in. The sound of the water was relaxing.

Bare didn’t say anything else as they walked around the pond. She took a few minutes to gather her thoughts. Other than her journals and a brief conversation with her dad five years ago, she’d never really spoken of the day her life had changed. Her dad had urged counseling, but Paisley had shied away from it, not feeling comfortable with the idea.

“We were getting married,” she said. “That weekend. I know the wedding was planned, but Lance and I were going to Vegas. We were excited, laughing and happy—we were so happy. Then there was a knock at the door. Lance sent me upstairs to pack while he sent away whoever it was.”

Bare’s hand rubbed across her back, offering comfort as she returned to that night.

“I heard a noise and stepped out to holler for him. That’s when I saw the intruder. He was dressed all in black.” Her heartbeat increased as fear filled her. She could still see the knife, still feel it piercing her skin and taking away everything.

“He can’t hurt you again,” Bare said.

She shrugged her shoulders. “No, he can’t,” she agreed, though not for the same reasons she knew Bare meant.

“One moment, I was laughing and happy. My whole life ahead of me.” She sighed and shook her head. “The next, I was waking up in the hospital. Alone.”

“There were people there. People who loved you.”

“None that mattered,” she said. “Not at the time, at least. There’s been so much speculation about that day. People so greedy for all the gory details, as if I’m nothing more than a story.”

“People are vultures,” Bare said.

“The first person I saw was my dad. He was afraid to touch me, as if I might break completely.”

“You were vulnerable,” Bare said. “You know Jamison loves you.”

“I do,” she agreed. “Then I saw you. You were the one who told me the baby was gone, that Lance was gone. I knew, but you confirmed it. This perfect stranger who held me while I cried.”

“We all need someone,” Bare whispered. “Sometimes, it’s easier to accept comfort from a stranger.”

She shrugged. “The next person I saw was my mother. She told me she’d taken care of a press release about Lance’s death and the attack. That I shouldn’t worry. Even assured me the studio would wait for me, especially since my little problem had been eliminated.” She stopped, cupping one hand to her mouth while the other flattened over her stomach.

“Jesus!” Bare swore.

“I’d lost my whole world and all she cared about was getting the best spin in the press to make the most out of my career.”

“Your mother’s a bitch,” Bare said. “You deserve so much better than her.”

“She is,” Paisley agreed. “That was the day I finally realized no matter how many chances I gave her or how long I continued to hope, she wouldn’t change.”

She turned her gaze up to lock with his blue eyes and told him the rest. “I can’t have kids, Bare. They had to do a partial hysterectomy on me. I didn’t just lose my baby. I lost the ability to ever have a baby. And my mother wanted to assure me the scarring would be minimal because she’d had the foresight to call in a plastic surgeon.”

She shook, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I lost Lance, who was such an amazing man. I’ll always love him. I lost our child and a chance to have any others. I lost my home, my career. And I came here, to hide away from the rest of the world. I’ve done a pretty good job, but I need to stop hiding. Stop being afraid.”

“No one will hurt you again,” Bare swore, one palm cradling her face.

“I’m not afraid of that. I’m afraid of letting myself feel again and losing. I don’t think I could take it again. I think I would shatter.”

“What are you saying?” Bare asked.

“I wanted to forget. I thought maybe I’d lose myself in you for a while just to feel something other than pain. But I don’t want to use you, Bare. Not you. You’ve been the best friend I’ve had these last few years.”

“So what do you want?”

“I want you to teach me how to let go. I want you to teach me how to live again.”

“I want that,” Bare said. “God, I’ve wanted that for so long.”

She saw something in his eyes and knew he was holding back.

“What is it?” she asked. “What are you not telling me?”

“What I’m about to say doesn’t change what you just said. You gave me the green light, and no matter what comes next, that stands.”

She nodded, her lips tilting up briefly at the corners.

“Jamison flew to LA to try to talk to your mother.”

“What? Why?” she demanded, any remnants of a smile fading.

“Vivian has decided to do an interview here, with you, to show the world how you’re doing after the attack.”

A surge of anger fired through her. What was her mother up to now? She knew Paisley would never agree to an interview.

“When will she get here?”

She didn’t have to ask if Jamison had persuaded Vivian otherwise. She didn’t need to see the expression on Bare’s face. She knew her mother, and nothing would stop Vivian once she had her mind set on something.

“By the end of the weekend most likely.”

How ironic could life be? For the first time in five years, Paisley had decided to open her heart to the prospect of letting another man into her life, and here came her mother, intent on tearing Paisley right back down.

Chapter Four

[The rest of their conversation had been interrupted by a call from her dad, who’d arrived back at Knight’s and wanted Paisley found now. Bare had informed her their conversation was far from over, hauled her close then kissed her until her entire body tingled. Afterward, he’d led her back to the bike and headed back toward town. Paisley clung tightly to him and second-guessed herself.

It was easy to pull Lance’s face to her mind. She could still see his light brown hair, carelessly finger-combed, and his brown eyes, so warm and inviting. He’d almost always worn a smile, and she’d loved him. He’d been the first person to really listen to her, to understand she might be young but that didn’t make her gullible. She could imagine them now, where they’d be if that night had never happened. Happily married, her writing while he transitioned from television to movies as he’d wanted. Their baby would be four, and maybe, they’d be thinking of having another. Happy. Content. That’s where she’d be.

But that night
had
happened. Lance was gone and so was their baby. Did that mean she needed to insulate herself from life and do little but go through the motions? No. The answer was an easy no. She would have wanted Lance to move on, to find love and happiness, to smile and laugh and live again. How could she think he’d want anything less for her?

That didn’t mean her heart didn’t feel a nudge of pain at the thought of moving forward. It did. But Bare was impossible to ignore and hard to resist now that she’d taken that first tentative step. He was bigger than life, and she wasn’t referring to his size, though he was a big guy. It was his commanding presence. He walked into a room, and you couldn’t help but glance his way. His smile, his laughter. God, his touch on her skin. He made her burn with desires she hadn’t expected to feel again.

The two men were so different. Lance had been shorter, more leanly built, where Bare was over six feet of hulking muscle. It wasn’t just the physical differences. Their personalities were complete opposites. She’d never seen Lance angry. Looking back now, that seemed odd. She should have seen his temper at least once, but he hadn’t seemed to have one. He was easygoing, laidback and everyone had loved him. Bare, on the other hand, was as volatile as they came. If he was pissed, everyone knew it. He was as quick to temper as he was to laughter. When she thought of all the times she’d made love with Lance, she remembered soft touches, slow and easy. He’d always treated her as if she were the most special person in the world to him.

Bare? When she imagined him in the bedroom, she pictured him as an aggressive lover. Taking and demanding while giving her exactly what she didn’t know she wanted. She was willing to finally admit she wanted him though. Would he be too much for her to handle? She refocused on the hard frame she clung to, and her choice was cemented in that moment. It was time to leave the past behind her. She’d known it for a while, and that was why she’d gone to Knight’s in search of Bare.

“Shit!” She heard Bare grumble as he stopped the bike. “Call Levi. Tell him to have someone hold the front doors open.”

She fumbled her phone from her pocket and made the call, keeping her eyes glued to the crowd of reporters in front of the Knight’s Watch building. Her mother had told them where they could find her.
Exactly
where to find her. Her days of hiding were over.

“Hold on tight,” Bare ordered, pressing his hand briefly against hers. “Close your eyes and trust me.”

She squeezed tighter, pressing her chest and pelvis against him like a second skin. Her thighs gripped the outside of his. Still, she kept her eyes opened, knowing what he had planned. Her heartbeat kicked up, not from fear as she might have expected, but from excitement. Bare wasn’t running from the reporters. He planned to barrel right through them.

He revved the motor once. She saw the doors come open, and someone yelled a warning. Then they were off. The back tire swung wide as they peeled out, leaving a smear of black on the road. He raced toward the paparazzi, jumped the curb and didn’t stop as people jumped out of the way. The bike went through the doors, and he spun the bike to a complete stop in the middle of the lobby.

She was shaking, and he must have felt it. He kicked the stand down and shut off the motor. Gripping her hands, he loosened her hold then stepped off and turned to her. They were safely inside the building, though she still saw the flash of cameras as the scattered reporters regrouped and surged forward to crowd the now-shut glass doors and surrounding windows.

Her father and Tuck came closer, and her dad looked anything but happy. Jagger, Seth, Sterling, Darren, Marco, Rusty, and Pauly all stood there as well. Shit, surely her dad hadn’t called them all away from other jobs simply because her mother had leaked Paisley’s whereabouts to the press?

“What the hell are you thinking, pulling a stunt like that with my daughter?” Jamison demanded when he reached them.

Bare ignored him and turned to help Paisley off the bike.

“You okay?” he asked, running his hands from her wrists up to her shoulders before reaching to unfasten the helmet.

She helped him, their fingers meshing as they pulled it off.

“Paisley?” her dad questioned.

She knew she was throwing them with the ear-to-ear grin she wore, but she couldn’t help it. When Bare straightened from putting off the helmet, she launched herself at his chest with a laugh.

“That was the best ride ever!” she whooped. “Did you see them dive out of the way? Oh my God! Let’s do it again!”

Bare’s hands caught her ass and lifted her into him. Without a thought for her audience, she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him. Her palms cupped his whiskered cheeks while their lips meshed and tongues played. She hadn’t meant for it to go this far, but neither of them seemed capable of breaking apart until the need for oxygen overcame the need for each other. Nothing like making a choice and diving right in. Deep inside, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was right, that she was exactly where she should be. With Bare.

They were both panting when she became aware of the stunned silence that filled the lobby. Peeking around, she saw surprise and shock on the faces around them—all except Tuck. There was something else in his eyes, something that said he wasn’t surprised at all.

Her dad cleared his throat. “Maybe, we should take this conversation somewhere a bit more private?” he asked. “I think the reporters have enough for right now.”

Shit! She’d forgotten about them once she locked onto Bare. She glanced toward the doors and knew immediately one of them had captured what was sure to be a money shot. The elusive Paisley Ames wrapped around an unknown man, looking more than over the past. She couldn’t help the tremor that went through her.

“Stop,” Bare whispered in her ear.

She pulled her glance back to him, meeting his intense blue gaze, and knew what he was thinking. She saw it in his eyes. He was preparing for her to shut down, but he was wrong.

“Put me down,” she whispered back.

He shook his head, fingers flexing against her ass. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t regret today. Tell me you don’t regret this.”

She smiled softly. “I may not be able to handle you, Barrett Locke, but I won’t regret trying. And I don’t regret today or this.”

“Trust me,” Bare muttered as he let her slide down his frame onto her feet. “You can handle me in every way that matters.”

It took everything she had not to shudder at the raw sex appeal and wanton desire reflected in his gaze. He wanted her and planned to have her. Soon, from the look he gave her. But this wasn’t the time or the place, not with her father and, essentially, the whole world watching. She almost cringed at the thought of what picture would be flashed everywhere in tomorrow’s headline.

Then Bare took her hand, lacing their fingers and squeezing palm to palm.

“Trust me,” he said again.

She nodded. “I do,” she admitted.

Standing as tall as her five-foot-two frame allowed, she walked beside Bare, following her dad and Tuck while the rest of their entourage closed ranks behind them. She’d gone from hiding within herself to feeling electrically recharged. It was a bit overwhelming. As high as she was now, she knew she’d fall again, old doubts and questions rising as she struggled between past and future. Still, she felt better prepared to handle it now.

Bare squeezed her palm again as if he sensed the direction her thoughts were taking. He kept her tucked at his side as they hit the stairs. Five years. He’d been her friend for five years. He’d hidden no part of his nature from her, letting her see when he was angry or sad or happy. Little by little, he’d let her in, let her get to know him. Had he been interested in her the whole time? Romantically interested?