The Naughty List (18 page)

“It’s too late for that, baby. You and Bram, you’re the two things in this world that have kept me going. Given me a reason to believe that my life is worth a shit.” He eased his grip on her, but the tremor in his hands didn’t lessen. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t love you. I used to think it was impossible for me to feel any more miserable, knowing I couldn’t tell you what was inside my heart. But that doesn’t begin to compare with what I’m going through now.”

He let go of her and plowed his fingers through his hair. “Hell, maybe you’re the smart one. Locking out any chance of love and running in the opposite direction. Maybe if I’d done that, I wouldn’t be slowly dying inside.” Despite his best efforts to control it, his voice broke on the tail end of his statement. Worried he was seconds away from completely unmanning himself, he pivoted and strode from the office just as Bram stepped out of the stockroom carrying reels of receipt paper for the registers.

Bram halted, his expression worried. “What’s going on?”

“She suggested selling her share of the business.”

Bram’s focus veered to the closed office door. “
What
?”

His mouth twisted with bitterness. “My words exactly. I told her there’s no fucking way we’re going along with that.”

“Maybe I should talk to her.”

“It won’t do a damn bit of good,” he bit out flatly. “She’s never coming around.”

He figured Bram’s stricken features were a mirror of his own. He felt like the world’s hugest bastard killing Bram’s last hope, but it was a necessary evil.

They both needed to face the facts. Lacey might love them, but she was too afraid to ever allow them access to her heart.

Pain cramping her chest, Lacey stared at the door Ry had vacated only seconds before. She had the odd sensation that although she was standing in Ry and Bram’s office, she might as well be a universe away from the comfortable world she used to know.

Charlie’s words echoed with harsh recrimination inside her head.
Life’s too short to regret the things we let slip us by because it hurts too much to let go of the past.

Oh God. What the hell was she doing? Everything she’d ever wanted was outside that door. She’d sustained herself with the fantasy of Ry and Bram through the toughest time in her life, and now she was too afraid to go after the real thing?

Ry was right. She
was
a coward. The awful shame of it sat like a boulder in her stomach.

They’d been there for her. Always. And she was hurting them in a way that was worse than the betrayal she’d gone through with Dan.

Her heart squeezed and tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked. If there was one thing she’d come to realize, it was that running didn’t do a damn bit of good. These past several days of barely surviving more than proved that fallacy.

So what the hell are you waiting for, you idiot?

A desperate sob hiccupping from her throat, she rushed toward the door. Those six steps felt like the longest of her life. She twisted the knob, banging her hip on it in her haste to open the door. Ignoring the burst of pain, she stumbled out into the bar area, looking around frantically.

She spotted Ry and Bram at the register installing receipt tape for George. Other than the four of them and the handful of customers situated at the bar and the neighboring booths, the room was relatively empty. Elvis was crooning about a blue Christmas on the restaurant’s speakers. How fitting. She cleared her throat, praying it’d be heard over the music. It must have worked because every eye turned on her, including Ry’s and Bram’s. Their faces looked haggard. Resigned.

She’d done that to them. Time to make things right. “You’re wrong. It’s not better to lock yourself away from love.” She stepped forward, her knees shaky. “I’m tired of being afraid.”

Ry stared at her, a fraction of the dark clouds lifting from his eyes. “So what are you saying?”

She took a deep breath, expelled it slowly. “That I love you guys, and I want to make our relationship work.”

George’s jaw dropped and speculative whispers cropped up from a few of the nearby diners. Oh yeah, they were going to have a field day with this one. Oh well. Might as well make it extra juicy for them. “My house is too small for the three of us. Much better to move into Bram’s.” A twinge of uncertainty shuttled through her. “That’s if the offer is still open.”

Ry and Bram practically leapt over the bar in their haste to reach her. Bram got to her first. He swung her into his arms and planted a hungry kiss on her that pretty much cleared up anyone’s doubts regarding which direction their relationship swung. Bram pulled back, his expression joyous. “It’s definitely still open. In fact, I think we should go get you packed right now.”

She gave a sniffly chuckle. “We can wait until tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ry cupped the back of her head, his eyes flashing a tender fierceness. “Promise?”

She nodded. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly. “We’ll make this work. We’re the three amigos. Together, we can conquer anything.” His voice held undeniable conviction.

“I love you both. So much.” She stroked Ry’s and Bram’s faces, the emotion inside her chest no longer terrifying, but freeing.

“Hearing that is the best Christmas present you could have ever given me, baby.”

“Me too, Lace.”

She gave them both hopeful smiles. “So does this mean I’m saved from having to sing naked karaoke?”

Ry and Bram glanced at each other, their expressions thoughtful. After a silent debate they both pressed their mouths to her ears and whispered, “Not a chance.”

She feigned a sigh. Really, she couldn’t complain. When it came to helping a girl mark off her naughty list and teaching her to love again, her boys had been more than accommodating. Besides, she had every intention of making sure they performed their own naked karaoke.

Hey, fair was only fair.

About the Author

At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.

She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.

When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.

Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.

She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at
[email protected]
and visit her online at
www.jodiredford.com
.

Look for these titles by Jodi Redford

Now Available:

Taking Liberty

Light My Fire

Vanessa Unveiled

That Old Black Magic

That Voodoo You Do

The Seven Year Witch

Maximum Witch

Thieves of Aurion

Lover Enslaved

Who says getting eaten by a shark is a bad thing?

Maximum Witch

© 2011 Jodi Redford

That Old Black Magic, Book 3

Willa Jameson is having one whopper of an identity crisis. Odd memory flashes that aren’t hers. A sultry voice in her head that’s obsessed with sex. Even weirder, she finds herself in the jaws of a rogue leviathan, dragged to the bottom of the ocean—and rescued by a hunky…
shark
?

The last thing Sheriff Max Truitt expects to find on his daily, deep-Atlantic patrol is a human—especially one who breathes underwater. Compelled to take her home, he waits for the beauty to wake up and reveal her name. Instead he’s treated to a punch in the nose, then a sexy romp hot enough to boil water.

The next morning, embarrassed by the sizzling, scandalous things the voice in her head drove her to do, Willa slips away. But if there’s one thing a determined shark excels at, it’s tracking his favorite meal.

Solving the mystery that is Willa is no simple task. When they finally unlock a dangerous secret hidden deep in her subconscious, it drives a wedge between them…and puts them in a desperate race against an evil that seeks to rain down a watery Armageddon on all mankind.

Warning:
This book does not contain sex with a puffer fish. There’s not even sex with a seahorse. However, there’s plenty of smoking-hot lovin’ with a shark. And even a steamy M/F/M threesome. So slap on your snorkels and swim fins, things are about to get wet and wild.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Maximum Witch:

She watched Max stride to the pick-up window and collect their sack of food and beverages, her trepidation coiling like a tight spring. Her life was slowly unraveling around her, and she didn’t know how to stop it. How to make things normal again.

It seemed incomprehensible that a little over a week ago none of this had been an issue. Her head had been blessedly void of seductive voices whispering things she didn’t understand. Sure, her job had been stressful as always, but she could handle all of that stuff. It was this total lack of control that was driving her closer and closer to permanent residency in the local loony bin. At first she’d assumed it was a form of early life crisis. Her thirtieth birthday was less than three days away. Not exactly life altering, but the date also marked the anniversary of her parents’ death. More than ever, she felt the fragility of life and how easily it could all be ripped away. It also drove home one indisputable truth—she was more alone than ever.

Max pivoted in her direction, and her heart gave an odd squeeze. He represented hope, the promise of a future that didn’t have to be solitary. But how could she trust her thoughts when they weren’t her own? How could she drag Max into this craziness when she didn’t even want to be there? The best, kindest thing she could do at this point would be to walk away from him and never look back.

Too bad her feet seemed to be cemented in place. Forcing a pained smile, she scooted over on the bench, making room for Max. He sat next to her and handed over her lemonade before fishing her sandwich from the bag. Accepting the package from him, she crumpled back one side of the waxed paper and sank her teeth into the rye and pastrami, a happy groan leaking free. As he’d done last night, Max watched her with unabashed appreciation. She licked the corner of her lip, catching the tangy essence from the dressing. His eyes darkened.

She finished chewing and swallowed. “Aren’t you hungry?”

His focus never veered from her mouth. “Yes. For you.”

Oh boy. “Max, I told you. We can’t—”

“I want to peel your clothes off and lay you out for my own personal all-you-can-eat buffet.”

She gulped and attempted to combat her raging arousal with sarcasm. “That’s a little scary coming from a shark.”

“I can be very good with my teeth when given the proper inspiration.”

“Would you please eat your sandwich and stop staring at me like I’m dessert?” Grumbling, she squeezed her legs together and took a sip from her lemonade. She relaxed a fraction when she detected the crinkling of waxed paper as Max unwrapped his Philly cheese steak.

They ate in companionable silence for several minutes, until her belly was full and she couldn’t imagine indulging in another bite. But despite having the edge taken off her hunger in one respect, the lusty cravings that kept her on the brink of jumping out of her skin only worsened the longer she was around Max. She harbored no doubts that if she didn’t get some much-needed space between them soon, she would gladly be flat on her back and offering herself to Max for his amorous snacking pleasures.

Crushing the remnants of her meal into a compact ball, she rushed to the nearby trash receptacle and pitched everything inside. Max followed suit and slid his arm around her waist again, snuggling her close until she had no choice but to walk along weakly, drunk and woozy on his delicious pheromones.

He escorted her into the Taurus, even going so far as to lean across her and buckle her seat belt. She gave him a peeved scowl, which he instantly sent packing when he angled his head and kissed her. It was barely a brushing of lips, but it still short-circuited the few functioning brain cells she had left. He straightened, his smile more than relaying the fact that he knew precisely how much he was affecting her—and that he was likely to use the knowledge to his full advantage.

Humming a vaguely familiar tune, Max strode to the passenger side and climbed in. She lasered him with a hot glare. “I am
not
going to fall into your bed.”

“Okay.”

Okay
? That was all he had to say? And why did he have to sound so damn calm and reasonable, as if he was only placating her? “I mean it, Max. Last night was—”

“Mind-blowing.”

She gnawed the inside of her cheek to keep from growling. “I was going to say a one-time deal.”

“I like my description better.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. You were saying?” The bastard didn’t sound the least bit contrite.

Despite knowing she would most likely regret looking at him, she did anyway. Oh yeah. Definitely a big mistake. Why did he have to be so yummy? “Are you always this aggravating and single-minded?”

His smoky look provoked decadent shivers across her skin. “I’m not afraid to go after what I want, Willa. If that makes me single-minded, so be it. But you better believe I’m going to do whatever it takes to convince you to let me rock your Kasbah into the next week. Hell, the next lifetime.”

Her breath abandoned her like air from a popped balloon. “It’s very sneaky bringing up Kasbahs at a time like this.”

“I told you. Whatever it takes.”

Goddess, give me strength.

She slammed the gears into reverse and backed out of the parking space. The ride was every bit as excruciating as she’d suspected it would be, made all the worse when the devious radio station decided to start playing Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On”. She recognized it as the song Max had been humming earlier.