Dirty Secrets Page 6

Jessica's mouth opened, then closed. Her bottom lip trembled, and she looked like she was going to cry. People were affected in different ways by my wounds, and I'd never gotten used to any of the reactions.

  "Is that why you got the tattoos? To cover the scars?"

  Something about her eyes made me want to talk, so I continued, not knowing whether I was revealing too much. "Some of 'em I got before the bombing. I got those touched up afterward, but it's difficult to get tattoos over scar tissue. Some I got later on the good skin. I did it to remember."

  I tapped on a detailed black-and-white tattoo of a dog tag and a ball-and-chain necklace that snaked down his forearm. "This one's for my friend Steve. His tags," I added softly. "He was in the back of the Humvee, took the brunt of the explosion that day. I got him out of the vehicle and pulled him to another Humvee, but I couldn't save him. He died on the way to the field hospital. He was my best friend while I was over there. From North Carolina."

  My voice cracked, and she pressed her fingertips to my arm, tracing the raised scar edges.

  Nerve damage didn't allow me to feel the full force of her touch, but my brain responded and sent sparks through my body and heart. My brow twisted into a scowl. I wasn't sure how else to respond. I hadn't allowed many people to touch my scars, and here she was, stroking my arm softly as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  "You turned into a good man, Leo Villeneuve," she whispered.

  I swallowed hard. Her fingers felt so soothing. Caring. Right. But her words ripped me apart. Just how good was I? Not very.

  She removed her hand, and my stomach knotted. I craved more of her touch. "I'm sorry that happened to you," she murmured. She pointed to the colorful, sexy mermaid with the blonde hair on my other arm, on my good shoulder. With her index finger, she traced the length of the art, sending intense shivers down my back.

  This, I could feel, and it was almost too much to bear.

  "What about this one?" she murmured, tapping on the mermaid.

  I swallowed, and my voice came out in a rasp. I'd gotten the tattoo after basic training in South Carolina one rainy night when I was thinking of her.

  "That's for a girl I once knew. The first time I kissed her, it was on the beach in Florida. About five years ago."

  Chapter 11

  The Kiss

  LEO

  Her eyes flew to mine, wide with surprise.

  Without thinking, I reached out and cupped her jaw, pulling her toward me. I captured her mouth roughly, wanting only to feel the heat of her lips and tongue.

  Kissing her couldn't erase the past, but maybe it would make me forget…for just a few minutes.

  The kiss was filled with longing and need, and all the familiarity of her washed through me.

  She tasted like mint and tea and bread, but also distinctly like Jessica, a sweetness I'd ached for years to savor again. A noise that started in her throat as a surprised squeak ended in a throaty moan, making me hard.

  She kissed me back, her hands gathering my T-shirt and pulling me close.

  The kiss, the way our tongues swirled, was better than my memories. Way better. This was nothing like when we were teenagers, nothing like our hesitant, awkward encounter. This was an adult kiss, a real kiss, a kiss of clear lust and pure, needy pain. And because she was tall, she fit into my big body just right. Nothing had felt this good in years.

  I put my other hand on her jaw and held her face possessively, our mouths tangling for long moments, devouring each other. My hands slid down the soft skin of her neck and into her silky, curly hair. I'd thought of this a million times, of being with her again.

  For years, I'd vowed to never think of her again, only to realize I couldn't stop remembering.

  Now, she was kissing me as if she needed my lips to stay alive. That was everything I'd dreamt of and more.

  "Leo," she breathed, smiling against my mouth. "You kiss better than before."

  I chuckled, a low, easy sound that shocked my ears. I hadn't made any noise that contained a tone of joy in a long time. "You didn't like the way I kissed five years ago?"

  She opened her eyes wide. "No, I meant...well, this is different. Wait. Kiss me again and I'll decide."

  "How's this?" I growled, wanting nothing more than to lay her on the stainless steel table and climb on top of her, enter her, own her, leave her wanting more.

  One of my hands went into her hair, and the other went around her waist. Within seconds, we were devouring each other's lips again. Her hands skimmed my chest, and I shivered, slammed with so many familiar feelings and sensations I couldn't keep up.

  She broke away. "Remember how awkward it was our first time?"

  I nodded and chuckled, trailing my nose against her cheek. "I didn't know what to do with my legs."

  That made her laugh—hard.

  "And remember how much we did it that second week of the vacation? How good we ended up being together?" I whispered in her ear.

  "I've never forgotten."

  I didn't want to bring up how we'd eventually run out of condoms and were so crazed with hormones and lust, we did it a few times without. That's what led to all the problems. No, I wanted to forget all that. All I wanted now was to squeeze her hard, bite her, be inside her.

  My hands ended up on her ass, pulling her toward me, and she moaned when I gripped her tighter. The pleasure ripping through my body was almost unbearable after years of pain—after years of being apart from her. I felt myself falling, falling, falling into the sensation.

  Coming to my senses, I pulled away and smoothed her hair.

  Wait—scratch that, I had to have her. Now.

  I leaned in, desperate for another kiss, but her gaze flitted down to her chest. Her eyes widened when they landed below my belt. My intentions were obvious.

  She stepped away abruptly and straightened.

  "Wow. That escalated quickly." She pulled her hair back with both hands.

  "Yeah. It did," I muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. A twinge of the old anxiety pinged my mind, the anxiety about everything I was running from. "Sorry."

  "Don't be. I kissed you back. I...I don't know what came over me."

  I'd taken things too far, too fast. "I understand. I was outta line. I apologize."

  We stared at each other, and I saw her chest heaving. She licked her lips, which made me want to kiss her again. But, no, I couldn't allow myself to do that again. If I did, I'd never stop. I'd take her upstairs and toss her on the bed. And if we ended up in bed, I'd want her to sleep over. And if she slept over, I'd have to explain the night terrors—explain everything else. No way would I open myself up like that or expose her to my hell. What was the fucking point?

  "Jess, baby," I said softly, using the nickname I used to call her.

  She looked up expectantly and stepped forward. By the way she tilted her head, I suspected she anticipated another kiss. My eyes shifted to the clock.

  "Listen. Uh, I just remembered I'm supposed to call my dad now to talk about the business. He scheduled me to call 'cause he's so busy and everything. So, I need to take care of that."

  She was clearly shocked. Her eyes widened, and her mouth gaped. Then she recovered. "Oh! Right. Okay. Well, see you around. Tomorrow, maybe."

  I followed as she hurried toward the door. "Yeah. Maybe at the Slimy Lizard."

  She shot me a tiny smile. "The Sloppy Iguana."

  "And I'll bring some pastries by. Promise." I'd keep my word about that. But my earlier resolve not to pull her upstairs to my bed was dissolving. I had to get her out of here fast. God, I was a coward.

  I unlocked the door and opened it.

  "Night," she whispered, then leaned up and pressed her lips to my cheek.

  I stood in the doorway, speechless, aching, as she walked away. Then I closed the door and shut my eyes. Shit, I'd been rude. An asshole.

  I'd just shared an incredible kiss with the first and only girl I'd ever loved, then threw her out on the street.

>   But I had a damn good reason.

  Chapter 12

  I Care, a Little Too Much

  JESSICA

  I stood near a window on the second-floor balcony at The Sloppy Iguana and had just taken a sip of my beer when I peered down to the street and watched a motorcycle roar up to the curb, stop, and park.

  I nearly choked as I watched the rider slide his long legs off the sleek, black machine and pull off his helmet.

  Holy hell, it was Leo.

  Beautiful. He was simply beautiful.

  Tonight, he looked raw and strong. He wore faded jeans, an unbuttoned black-and-white plaid shirt over a white-T-shirt, and black boots. His appearance had always fascinated me, what with his Cajun-Creole heritage.

  Even though he had light eyes, his skin was a dazzling darker color. I recalled how he'd said his mother's ancestors were freed slaves from Haiti and his father's family was from somewhere French-speaking. Quebec, if I remembered correctly. With my heart slamming around my chest, I watched him stride toward the entrance, then disappear from view.

  I didn't think he'd actually come tonight.

  I sighed and walked over to the other part of the balcony, which overlooked the beach and sunset. Dread started to settle in. Why had he showed up after practically throwing me out of his bakery? I'd barely had time to say goodbye.

  It was going to be near impossible to stay away from him.

  It was all so strange, him throwing me out, because our kiss had been phenomenal. Epic. What had gone wrong? Did he not like the way I kissed anymore? Did my breath stink? Was he no longer attracted to me because I'm bigger now?

  A black mood settled over me as I watched him enter the Iguana's second-floor bar balcony area. Lord. Just looking at him made me unsteady. His shoulders somehow looked even broader tonight.

  The balcony was packed, mostly with older business owners, people my mom's age I'd known my entire life. Basically Leo, Catalina, and I were the youngest people here.

  I watched as Leo laughed and chatted with a group of people at the entrance. He mingled easily, exchanging business cards with three men in Hawaiian shirts, then stopping to chat with a woman in a tiny, tight, forest green dress. The way that woman beamed at him was unsurprising. Every woman here had probably already noticed him.

  It wasn't like there were legions of hot guys on Palmira.

  Leo continued to work the crowd, and I found myself entranced. He exhibited more self-assurance than he had while working the oven in his bakery, yet his words that floated over were humble, a quality I'd found in short supply with most guys. I recalled how his voice cracked while talking about trying to save his dying friend, and I admired him for staying sane and self-assured in the face of such horror.

  How had he avoided being damaged from all he'd seen? What had he seen in the war? Too much, I was sure.

  But it didn't seem to matter. From beach to bakery to bar, Leo was sexy and confident in any situation. Unlike me. I felt awkward, ill-prepared, and stuck in the past.

  I met his gaze as he spoke to the owner of the island's surf shop, and he grinned. I turned away quickly, embarrassed to be caught staring. Why did he have to have that smattering of sexy stubble across his chin and jaw? He was too handsome and too tempting. His stunning slate-colored eyes, his wry smile and long legs...they all made me second-guess everything.

  I replayed the previous evening's kiss in my mind and decided no good could come of this. I'd all but thrown myself at Leo. Men lied, and he had a track record of vanishing when it suited. My consideration of any attempt at something casual with Leo was a crappy idea. Better to just be friends.

  Without benefits.

  I turned away from the crowd, my eye twitching and pulsing. Setting my glass on a nearby table, I took my phone out of my bag and snapped a photo of the sunset. Better to focus on the natural beauty of the beach than Leo, who was practically setting every woman in the room on fire with that sexy smile. It reminded me of how easily Jacob had worked rooms like this.

  Scowling into my phone, I posted my sunset picture to Instagram. Photos on social media were a great way to promote the hotel, I'd discovered. I then checked my other social media accounts, because burrowing into my phone was safer than facing reality. More than a hundred people had liked a photo I'd posted of the hotel's neon sign, and they'd surely love the sunset.

  Catalina appeared and joined me at the window. "You're going to miss this when you leave the island."

  I shrugged. "I will miss it if I leave. But that's a big if. I'm not sure I want to sell the hotel."

  "Have you broken that news to your sister? She seems to have her mind made up. She mentioned you were considering grad school in New York—which would be awesome, because then you could live with me."

  I snorted. "My sister's good at making up her mind and ignoring what other people want. I'm not sure if I wanna to go back to school. She'd like me to go, but I love it here. And you know how meh I've always been about New York when I visit you.”

  “Yeah, you're a beach girl. I remember when you came that weekend last summer and gagged when we saw that guy pissing himself on the subway.”

  I laughed, but my mood was sour. I wished Nicole would quit trying to parent me. It had gotten worse since Mom's death. I tried to remind myself it was Nicole's nature to fix things and direct others' lives, but sometimes, my sister was too much. Especially lately.

  "I do need to have a talk with my sister," I muttered, more to myself than Catalina.

  "Well, duh. I don't know why you two would want to sell. I mean, it's been in your family for what, three generations?" Catalina sipped her beer.

  "Four." My family had been among the first settlers of Palmira, back before Florida was even a state.

  "You look hot tonight, Jess," Catalina said, changing the subject and nodding toward my cleavage, which was on display thanks to my blue-and-white silk maxi dress with the V-neck and fluttering handkerchief hem. "Way to accentuate the positive. Hey, who's that guy in the plaid with the hot body? God, there's a lot of new people on the island."

  I tapped at my phone, trying to focus on anything but the conversation of Leo, who was still chatting with a group of women.

  Catalina seemed to notice. "Wait, is that your Leo? He kind of looks like the guy in those photos you showed me in high school, and Lord have mercy, those muscles. His shirt is practically ripping at the seams. Hot."

  I tried to be simultaneously casual and not make eye contact with him again. "Yeah. That's him. I made the mistake of inviting him last night when I saw him."

  Catalina moved closer and lowered her voice. "Maybe it wasn't a mistake at all. He's single, right?"

  "Of course he's single," I shot back. But a pang of anxiety ran through me. I'd only assumed he was free. Would he kiss me if he had a girlfriend?

  It hadn't stopped Jacob. I'd looked for a ring on Leo's finger the night before, but it was possible he had a wife or girlfriend in New Orleans. Maybe bakers didn't wear rings because they'd get them caked with flour.

  Surely he wasn't married. He was only twenty-three. But sometimes people got married young when they were in the military. I'd read that on some website somewhere. And we'd talked about getting married, back when I thought I was pregnant with his baby—back when we were practically babies ourselves.

  I sipped my beer. "I don't know. No idea. Don't care. I'm sure he has lots of girlfriends. He was in the Marines. Probably has a few women all over the world, right? I don't know a decent man from a douchenozzle. Not after Jacob. So I don't care."

  "Whatever." Catalina made a little flashing gesture with her fingers and thumb. "I can see right through you. You care so much, there's practically a neon sign on your forehead that blinks 'I care.'"

  Chapter 13

  Swoon

  JESSICA

  ”I kissed him last night," I whispered, leaning close to Catalina, knowing the revelation would provoke a dramatic reaction.

  As expected, Catalina gaspe
d and opened her mouth, her eyes wide. "I knew it! He is here for you. God, that's romantic."

  I couldn't help but giggle at her expression—and from the memory of how demanding his mouth had been and the way he’d possessively tilted my head.

  Swoon.

  There was also his mermaid tattoo. It was almost certainly me, with that blonde hair. Hell, he'd all but said it was me. But then he'd practically thrown me out of the bakery.

  God, this was all so confusing.

  "So...?" Catalina prompted.

  "It was an amazing kiss."

  "And? Then what? Did you guys hook-up?" Catalina waggled her eyebrows. "How did it go with your...condition?"

  I grimaced, embarrassed. "No, we didn't hook-up. That would be pretty fast, don't you think? He didn't get anywhere near my condition. In fact, he almost threw me out of his bakery after the kiss."

  "What?"

  "He said he had a business call with his dad. It was really awkward."

  Catalina took a long sip of beer. "Wow. I can't even interpret that."

  "I can't either. Maybe I disappointed him. Maybe I'm not his type. Maybe I'm no one's type."

  My words were met with an eyeroll and a snort. "Jess, that's ridiculous. I'm straight, and I want to kiss you. Jesus. There's probably something really wrong with him if he doesn't want you. There'd have to be."

  "Jacob didn't want me. At least, not enough to not cheat."

  "Well, Jacob was an ass. And he wanted you and every other woman on the planet. Big difference. Besides, you said your body rejected him. Do you think you'd have the same problem with—oh, hush, turn around. Leo's coming this way."

  I whirled to find him approaching, a beer in his hand. His mouth was cocked in a sexy grin, and he powered toward me, gracefully excusing himself as he slipped by several people.

  Would I have the same problem with Leo? God, no. I hoped not. Around him, my body felt like a Fourth of July sparkler. With Jacob, I'd felt like a Zippo lighter without butane.