Read Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial Online
Authors: Shiloh Walker
Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial (11 page)
“I
will
say it. I love you.”
He was closer now, and when he went to grab my shoulders, I tore away from him, half falling back against the door in an effort to get away.
“No!” I shouted at him.
“I love you.” He came for me then, bracing his hands on either side of me when I would have twisted away. “You got any idea how many women
paid
me to say those words? I’ve said them too many times, and the first time I ever meant them was thirty seconds ago.”
I went to cover my face with my hands.
He wouldn’t let me. Inexorably, he drew my wrists over my head, staring down at me with stark, unrelenting eyes. “Do you know how many women have said those very words? Some probably even thought they
meant
them … but the man they thought they loved was an illusion.”
“You think
I
love an illusion,” I said.
“No. I think you love me. And it terrifies me.” He rubbed his lips across mine. “Pretty Ella … my Ella. Don’t walk away from me. Not now.”
“I can’t … Sean, I can’t do this again. It hurts too much,” I whispered.
“I won’t hurt you again … aw, fuck. That’s a lie. I probably will. I’ll do something stupid and say something foolish, but I’ll never hurt you like that again. Not ever. I want you to love me. I want you to let
me
love
you.
” His hands slid down my inner arms, his touch exquisitely gentle. “Let me love you, Ella. Let me keep you.”
My breath tripped out of me in a series of hitching little bursts—it was impossible to breathe steadily, or even
think
clearly in that moment.
His mouth slid across mine.
“You thanked me,” he whispered against my lips. “You were angry with me and hurt and you had tears in your eyes, yet you thanked me. Because you said maybe you could have a life now. You don’t know what that did to me. I wanted to grab you, Ella. Grab you and hold on, never let you go.”
As if to illustrate, he slid a hand under my shirt and curved his arm around my waist, banding me to him. “At the same time, I understood, see … what you meant. Have a life. I’d seen the fear in you from the beginning, and I watched, day by day, as it lessened. You meant to find another. Leave me and find another. Didn’t you?”
I tucked my head against his shoulder.
Sean tangled a fist in my hair and tugged.
When I wouldn’t look at him, he murmured, “That’s all right. I told myself it was good, really. You deserved better. You weren’t really in love w’ me anyway, right?”
I tensed.
“Shhh, shhh…” He skimmed his lips down my neck. “I had to believe that, love. Because if I didn’t, then I had to look at all the impossible shite that lay between us, and I knew I’d go mad. Why would you love me anyway?”
Finally, I made myself look up at him.
Staring into his pale eyes, I cupped his face.
I saw something then, something I’d only glimpsed echoes of before. The glib humor was gone. The raw sensuality was there, but it was banked.
What I saw now was emotion, pure and real.
And it was focused on me.
“Tell me I haven’t lost you.” He said the words against my mouth. “Say you still love me.”
I hitched out a breath, my eyes closing.
“Ella, please don’t cry.”
I grabbed him, clinging tightly. “I’m not telling you again,” I whispered. “Not until you tell me.”
The tension in his body drained out. “I already did,” he said, his voice teasing. “I already did … but I think I owe it to you. I love you, Ella. I love you. Now … say you still love me.”
I whispered it against his neck.
He swung me around in a circle, and it sent my head to spinning.
But that was all right.
It was still spinning when he put me down, my back to the door, and only after he covered my mouth with his did things start to settle a little. It dawned on me as he began to pull and tug at my clothes that I should tell him to stop, to wait.
There were people downstairs.
But it didn’t take him long to make me forget about that … and everything else.
“Wow…” Darla stood at the window, peering outside. “All those newspeople. They’re here for you?”
I looked out and tried to pretend there weren’t razor-winged butterflies in my belly. “Afraid so. They’ll eat up anything that promises ratings.”
“And this…” She glanced at me and then around the house. Sean had given her a quick explanation. They were moving in. Not right away, though. Sean had told me he’d set aside money for one other thing—an engagement ring.
It was on my hand now.
He’d given me that long after the lasagna had gone cold and we’d decided what to do with that money in the briefcase. He was donating it to Nora’s Door. There was going to be an area called Darla’s House—we’d set it up especially for runaway teens.
I loved the idea.
Sean seemed to like it, although he kept telling me it wasn’t his money, really, and I could do with it whatever I liked.
He was going to turn in his notice at the B&B once everything was settled with Darla. I told him he didn’t have to, but he said the owner kept eyeing his arse and his arse was mine now.
He said he could find a bartending job—it wasn’t like he didn’t have experience, and he could work during the day, too.
I’d had another suggestion.
I asked if he’d like to work in the kitchen at Nora’s Door.
The light in his eyes had gleamed. I think he liked the idea.
But first …
I had to do this.
The past twenty-four hours had been a rushed flurry of activity. I’d rescheduled the press conference for early afternoon, giving me a little more time, since my afternoon had become strangely chaotic.
But it was showtime.
I’d told Sean what I was doing.
He’d been oddly quiet, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
Then he’d grabbed me and pulled me up against me. “There’s my queen. Laying down the law, just as you should. I’ll be there with you, if you want that.”
“I want that.”
So he was going out with me.
We were going to talk about both our pasts, we’d decided. His past would come out at some point and we’d decided it would be better to do it
our
way, rather than having somebody else dig it up. Better to face it head-on than have it smacked in our faces.
If the state tried to take Darla away, they would find themselves with a much bigger fight on their hands now.
Tom appeared in the doorway. He held the revised statements in his hands, and if he was nervous, you couldn’t tell.
“It’s time.”
I nodded. I looked over at Sean. “Are you ready?”
His response was to give me a hard, fast kiss.
“Let’s get this done, love. What they did to you? They wanted to break you, but they failed.” He took my hand and led me to the door. “I never was a victim, Ella. I won’t let any of them think that.” “I know. But I’ll tell you what Tom told me. I don’t want to be a symbol. He said I was anyway.” I sucked in a breath, pausing before I turned the doorknob. “You talked about how many kids are forced into prostitution. They don’t have a voice. You can be that, Sean.”
He grimaced. “I don’t want to be a symbol, either, Ella.”
“You’re about to become one. They need a voice, Sean.”
He stroked a hand down my hair and leaned in. After one more kiss, he nodded. “Then let’s give them one.”
I opened the door and strode to the podium erected on my front porch.
Lights flashed. Sean settled at my side, a solid, warm presence.
“Hello. Thank you for coming. Please hold all questions until the end. I will answer them, but only if you wait until it’s time. I have a great deal to tell you, but I need to start with a story. It all began just a few blocks from here, with a little girl. Her parents often made her wear a party…” My voice hitched.
Sean leaned in and whispered, “Remember … they failed.”
I steadied. Giving him a quick smile, I looked back out over the sea of faces.
“Her parents often made her wear a party dress. They wanted to break this little girl. But they failed.”
The End
Don’t miss a moment of
Shiloh Walker
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Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy
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Shiloh Walker
has been writing since she was a kid. She loves reading and writing, anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She has authored dozens of works of romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormal romance, and urban fantasy under the name J.C. Daniels. Look for her new romance
Headed for Trouble
, coming soon from St. Martin’s Press. You can sign up for email updates
here
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Contents
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
“Thirty Nights with a Dirt Boy: Part 3” Copyright © 2016 by Shiloh Walker.
All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.