In that moment she realized she’d do anything to keep what they had, to keep what they were building. Nothing was more important than these women. She owed them everything. And right then she knew what she had to do. She’d do whatever it took to keep the smiles on their faces, to never lose this.
Piper gave them one last squeeze. “You guys close up, and I’ll go order the pizza.” She did another dance, grabbed her bag, and headed out.
Rusty and Piper lived in a small, quirky cottage next to the garage. It was the only house left on Axle Alley and had once been owned by their grandmother. The West family had lived in it for several generations. Even after their neighbors sold and disappeared, and new commercial buildings took their place, Grandma West had refused to sell. She’d left it to her granddaughters, who were just as determined to keep it as it was, despite the constant barrage of offers they received to take it off their hands. But it didn’t matter how much the land was worth. It wasn’t for sale.
They shut up shop, and Alex headed to her apartment above the garage. After a quick shower, she pulled on her comfy jeans with all the rips and her favorite Metallica T-shirt, leaving her long hair down to dry naturally. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her phone and texted Deacon.
We need to talk. I’ll call you later.
Shoving her phone back in her pocket, she headed next door to the cottage for celebratory pizza. She refused to think about the agreement she was about to enter into, or what it would mean for her. Not yet.
When she hit the stairs to the cottage, she heard music coming from inside, laughter, and even with all this Deacon crap hanging over her head, she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. She walked into the living room, and three beers sat open on the coffee table. Rusty came dancing from the kitchen, carrying a bag of potato chips and a tub of dip.
Her friend grinned. “We’re celebrating, baby. We’ll worry about the size of our asses tomorrow.”
Alex laughed. “Nothing wrong with some junk in the trunk.”
“You said it.” Rusty spun around and gave her perfect, round ass a wiggle.
Piper followed with the pizza, and they sat, ate, laughed, and made plans for the garage. Something they hadn’t done in a while, too afraid to get their hopes up, afraid they’d fail. But with business picking up, they could afford to dream again, not to mention buy extravagant things like chips and dip.
No, it didn’t matter how Alex looked at it—her decision had been made for her. There had never been any other choice. Her life here with Piper and Rusty meant everything to her. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose it.
Her stomach fluttered. Christ, now she just had to tell Deacon.
She chugged back the rest of her third beer, happy for the buzz and the Dutch courage, and stood. Time to make the call, get it over with before she chickened out or sobered up. “Okay. I’m heading off. We can’t make money if we’re all hungover in the morning, right?”
The other two groaned. “All right, but this Friday, it’s girls’ night. We’re going out, and we’re gonna drink too much and shake it on the dance floor,” Rusty said, then downed the rest of her beer.
Weekend plans made, Alex left the cottage and crossed the parking lot to her place. It was dark out, and she almost missed the silver Mercedes S 600 parked behind the garage. Almost.
Her step faltered when the door opened and Deke stepped out. He wore dark jeans and a long-sleeved black thermal top that clung to his upper body and made her mouth water. She could see his abs defined through the thin fabric, and it took a huge amount of effort to look away.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.
She was fuzzy from the beers and couldn’t muster the energy to be pissed. “Why didn’t you come next door?”
“I don’t really think this conversation is something you want Piper or Rusty to hear, no?”
No, it isn’t.
“Hop in.” He held the car door open for her.
She bit her lip. “I told you I was going to call you.”
“I decided whatever you have to say, I’d rather hear it in person.”
She noticed he kept darting glances at the garage. He looked almost uneasy. Was it painful for him to be here? Yes, she’d avoided Deacon these last few months, but it hadn’t been all that hard. He’d barely set foot here since his father’s death. All she’d had to do was ignore his calls and texts and make her excuses if she knew Deacon might be at whatever get-together or dinner her friends invited her to.
Maybe there was more to his absence than she’d first thought. She shook her head. “I’d rather do this upstairs.”
He hesitated, but she didn’t wait for his answer and took the external stairs to her apartment. If being here set off some kind of emotional response in him, it might just break through that cold exterior, and maybe he’d change his mind about selling this place. Maybe he’d remember how important it had been to his family, and at one time to him.
Maybe he’d let her off the hook.
They walked in, and she threw her keys on the coffee table.
Deacon shut the door behind them. “Your text earlier, it was about my offer?”
No beating about the bush then. “Let’s get one thing clear here. It’s not an offer. An offer implies I have a choice. This is blackmail. Don’t kid yourself it’s anything else.”
His broad shoulders shifted, causing the muscles in his chest to bunch and move in a way that made her belly flip. His eyes narrowed. “You can always say no. No one’s holding a gun to your head, Alex.”
She snorted. “You sure about that?”
He took a step toward her. “Why are you resisting this? I know you want me.” He made a low, rough sound in the back of his throat. “The way you responded to me that night. You haven’t forgotten, have you? God, you were so wet, hungry for my cock. You shook so hard when I put my mouth on you, when I nipped your perfect little clit.”
A throbbing pulse started between her thighs. Her body still remembered every damn touch, every rough, dirty word he’d whispered in her ear, against her skin. She could almost feel his mouth on her. And just like that, she was wet for him. “It meant nothing.” She moved away. “We’ve already made this mistake before.” The beer had loosened her tongue. Jesus, why was she going there now? Because it still hurts like hell. “Surely there are other women you can blackmail into screwing you. Why me all of a sudden?”
His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his only outward sign of emotion. “First, it doesn’t need to mean anything. We’re talking about sex, Alex, not marriage.”
Oh, yeah, that was a low blow considering their history.
“And second, I didn’t get nearly enough time with you. Not even close…” She shook her head, afraid of what he’d say next but desperate to hear it all the same. “I want to taste every inch of that hot little body. I want to fuck you every way possible, as often as I like. I want you to come against my mouth, around my fingers, my cock.” He sucked in a ragged breath. “Is that a good enough reason for you?”
She took a step back before she realized what she was doing. God, she wanted everything he’d just said, all of it. “Deacon…” She didn’t know how to finish. What the hell did you say after that?
But then he gritted his teeth, suddenly looking pissed. “The first time, all those years ago…I was young. We were young. I had plans, and you didn’t fit into them. I’m sorry I hurt you. But we were just kids.”
Oh, age was the issue now, timing? Neither of those things had mattered when he’d proposed to Emily a few weeks after popping her cherry. He’d run from Axle Alley so fast the only thing she’d had to remember him by were the skid marks he’d left on the road as he’d sped away.