Arrogant Bastard - Julie Capulet Page 0,42
pocket.
Good Lord.
I try to create a distance between us but he’s far too strong, holding far too tightly. I can see he’s making an effort to control himself, but it doesn’t seem to be working. He’s hot to the touch and practically vibrating with fizzing intensity. “I was just looking out for you. I can’t have my cousins harassing my new business partner. They can’t be trusted.”
“Well, thanks, but I can look out for myself.”
“I’m afraid that’s part of the contract. It’s in my own best interests to make sure you’re happy and well-adjusted at all times.”
“Well-adjusted? You’re a little late for that. That ship sailed years ago.”
His smile is almost sympathetic. “You and me both. I’ll settle for happy, then.”
My laugh is slightly scoffing. “You think you can make me happy?”
That jungle-cat arrogance. “Yes.”
I’m aware of the hard ridges of his body—and one extremely huge ridge in particular. Endowments to die for indeed. “How?”
My body, against my will, is reacting to his heat and his outrageous hardness. My breasts are pressed against his big, broad chest and my nipples feel taut and hyper-sensitive. A fresh warmth dampens my panties even more. God. This is bad. “I’d start by asking you what you hope for. What your wildest dreams are. What hurts and what makes you cry. What your favorite songs are and which movies you watch over and over. I’d take you to the places you’ve always wanted to go. I’d find out what makes you laugh. And then I’d do everything I could to kill off the painful things and at the same time I’d shower you with the good stuff, so much so that you couldn’t help but be happy.”
I stare up at him as we gently sway to a slow song. It might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I fight off the sting of tears behind my eyes. Because no one, aside from maybe Josie, who already knows everything about me, has ever asked those kinds of questions, or cared enough to find out.
But then I remember who I’m dealing with here. Gage McCabe is the most eligible bachelor in Chicago’s glitterati dating scene, but good luck pinning him down, ladies.
I feel a pang of sadness, that he is what he is … and that I am what I am. It’s too bad, because the sparking heat in the charged contact between us is just about the best feeling I’ve had in … okay, maybe ever. “I bet you say that to all the girls,” I say dismissively.
“As a matter of fact, I’ve never said it to anyone.”
“Then why are you saying it to me?”
“Because.” Our gazes lock but, with effort, I break the trance. Careful, Luna, I remind myself. The scars of my past burn hotly somewhere behind my soul.
“‘Because’ isn’t an answer.”
“Tell me what you were really thinking about, before. I don’t think it was cavemen.”
The whiskey is starting to hit my system, like a warm, loosening current. “I was thinking about love and what it might feel like,” I tell him honestly. “Have you ever been in love, Gage?”
“No.”
“Really? Not even once?”
“Not even a little.”
“I should’ve expected that from you, I guess.” He’s like a junkyard dog who’s only out for one thing.
“Why do you say that?”
“With all your experience and to never even connect with someone like that … do you ever wonder if you’re even capable of love?” Why am I even bringing this up? Maybe because I’m wondering if I am, considering my upbringing and my past. Maybe some people just aren’t wired that way, for whatever reasons.
His eyes are a brilliant blue even in the low light, like pressed sea glass with moonlight shining through. “Yes. I used to wonder about that all the time.”
There it is again. Used to. Before I can ask him what he means, someone screams.
Very suddenly, the whole room erupts. The back door has been breached, and the bar floods with loud, drunk, raucous people.
The band is quickly surrounded by security and ushered off stage, through a door I hadn’t noticed before. They have to fight people off. The fans are screaming and crying, swarming in a thick pack, trying to get closer to the Tucker brothers. It’s like a riot. People are crazy and out of control, pushing and yelling.
My God. This is dangerous. It’s a stampede.
Gage picks me up and pushes us through the crowd. People swear at us as Gage’s big, wide-shouldered form shelters me