Zeke

“How is she?” Van asked watching me as I flipped through Sunny’s case file.

I shrugged. I didn’t know. The woman was as closed off as she ever was. I saw her two days ago—naked and wet and sexy as hell—after screaming out my name. She’d touched herself thinking about me. I was sure of it. There wasn’t any damn spider. I’d seen her after she’d come enough times to know what that looked like on her. Creamy skin flushed pink, nipples darker, tight, goddamn suckable.

My dick surged behind my zipper and I growled.

“You were seeing her, though, right?” Van said.

I lifted my head and stared at the guy. “We were fucking. Now we’re not.” Though it had felt like a lot more than that. I wasn’t about to go there, though, so I looked back down, ignoring his raised eyebrows. I didn’t blame his obvious curiosity. I hadn’t been with anyone since I got home. It didn’t take a genius to work that out. If we went out, I went home alone. Women weren’t exactly falling over themselves to get up close and personal with me, which was the way I’d liked it.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yep.” Well, I was trying really fucking hard to be. So far, I was failing miserably.

“You want me to put someone else on her case?”

I looked up at Van again. “Why?”

“Maybe you’re too close to this one?”

“Not a problem.”

I got the feeling Van wasn’t buying it, but he wouldn’t push. Well, I hoped he wouldn’t. I wasn’t getting into it with him. I wasn’t talking about Sunny with anyone. Thankfully, he left the office I was using a short time later and I carried on reading Sunny’s statement.

By the time I finished it, my gut was in knots. Reading again how she thought it was me coming up those stairs, how she’d lost precious time making that call for help because of it, was messing with my head. As a result, some fucker had gotten to her, cut her. “Fuck.” I was already close to crawling out of my skin, when I flipped the page . . .

Photos of the crime scene.

Every muscle in my body tightened as I flicked through them. Jesus, the blood. On her bedroom floor, all the way down to the front door, on the door handle. Broken china, more blood. Photos of Sunny at the hospital. She was in one of her delicate silk nighties, stained with red, face bruised, cut.

I slammed the file shut, gripping it tight in my fist as my mind conjured up images of its own. Sunny running outside, banging on her neighbor’s door, scared half to death. I’d stayed away from her the last two nights. I couldn’t do it tonight, not after seeing that. I had to know she was okay, safe. New high-tech security system or not.

* * *

I arrived at her place around nine that night. The lights were out. She either wasn’t there or she’d gone to bed early. I didn’t want to wake her if she was asleep, but I felt like I might climb the goddamn walls if I didn’t see her with my own two eyes. It was messed up. We’d fucked, barely talked, but I couldn’t get her out of my head. She was like the brightest light and I was some helpless fucking moth unable to fight my instincts to seek her out.

Something caught my eye, something moving in the shadows. Someone was messing with her window.

I shoved my door open, and whoever it was spun toward me then darted up the side of her house, onto the street, and took off running.

I flew out of my truck. I wanted to go after the guy, but I had to make sure Sunny was okay.

I hit her steps and pounded on her door. Nothing. Not messing around, I quickly picked the lock. Disabled Cage’s system, using his test code, which thankfully I knew. Sunny hadn’t reset it, which was a good thing, since I didn’t want to set the thing off. I called out her name repeatedly, so if she was here, she’d know it was me, and flew upstairs and into her room. The bed in her room was perfectly made. I checked the rest of her house. No sign of her anywhere.

I took the stairs back to the ground floor, pulling my phone as I went, and called Cage.

“You got eyes on me or something?” Cage said by way of a greeting, voice amused.

“What?”

He was quiet a beat. “What’s up?”

I filled him in on the guy I saw outside Sunny’s house, what happened after. “I fucked up her lock getting in here,” I said. I’d been in a hurry to get in and all finesse had flown out the window. “I know you don’t unusually do small shit like this, but I’m asking as a favor. Don’t want to leave her door like this and I need to find her.”

“No problem. I’ll send someone over.” A pause. “You worried about her?”

“Yeah.” I hated even admitting that to myself, let alone someone else.

He cleared his throat. “She’s fine.”

I stilled. “Yeah, and you know that how?”

“I’m looking at her,” he said.

I felt a growl crawling up my damn throat. Were they on a date or some shit? Because Cage had made it pretty fucking obvious he wanted to get in there.

“Zeke, brother, it’s not what you think. I was already at Alfonso’s when she walked in. There’s nothing going on.”

“Alfonso’s?”

Cage sighed. “See you soon?”

I disconnected. I liked Cage, he was a good guy, but he wasn’t touching Sunny, no fucking way. I didn’t allow myself to think about what I was doing, what it meant, what I’d say when I saw her. I just knew I had to get to her.

Sunny

Cage had been acting differently since he’d finished his phone call and came back to the bar. I sipped my wine and glanced at him over the rim of my glass. I always had a wine while I waited for my takeout orders at Alfonso’s. They made the most divine Chicken Parmesan here and I’d been craving it for the last week. I’d also realized where I saw Cage’s business name when I’d walked in and saw him here. His building was only a block from my shop. I was surprised I hadn’t seen him in here before, since I came in fairly regularly. He’d been with friends, but came to keep me company while I waited for my food.

“Is everything okay?” I asked him.

He grinned. “Yep.”

The man had a great smile.

His eyes slid to the door and he straightened. “Well, it was cool talking to you, Sunny, but my cue to leave just got here. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime.” Then he winked and walked away.

I frowned after him then glanced at the door . . .

Zeke was standing there, eyes burning into me.

I shivered.

He started toward me.

My heart started to race.

He stopped in front of me and my breath, that I’d been holding, shook past my lips, his name with it. “Zeke?”

“Let’s go,” he said.

Um . . . what the heck was going on? “My food . . . It’s not . . .”

He reached out, grabbed something from in front of me. My dinner. I hadn’t even noticed it’d been put there because every part of me had locked onto Zeke and stayed there as soon as I saw him.

“Let’s go,” he said again, this time reaching out and curling his fingers around my wrist.

My belly dipped. “What? Where?”

“My place.”

The way he was looking at me, the stiffness of his shoulders—something wasn’t right. I mean, I hadn’t seen him in days and now he was standing in front of me demanding I go with him . . . to his place. “What’s going on, Zeke?”

His fingers flexed, then I felt his thumb swipe across the inside of my wrist. “I stopped by your house tonight. Someone was hanging around. He got away, but I broke in, wanted to make sure you were okay. Lock needs fixing and I want you safe.”

I tensed, my pulse racing now for a different reason. “What do you mean, someone was hanging around my house?”

The muscle in his jaw did some jumping. “We’ll sort it out. But tonight, you need to come with me.”

Why would someone be hanging around my house. Had the guy that broke in come back? Oh God. “Zeke . . .”

He gave my wrist another squeeze. “Let’s go, Sunshine.”

There was no “should I or shouldn’t I” decision to make here. If there were someone hanging around my house, I didn’t want to be there. I slipped off my stool, and let him lead me from the restaurant. Was someone targeting me? Why? What had I ever done? I didn’t understand what any of this meant, but for tonight I was glad I had Zeke. Just knowing that someone had gone to my house tonight, for God only knew what purpose, sent terror through me with such force I was trembling by the time we reached Zeke’s truck. He didn’t miss this. I’d learned pretty quickly he never missed anything.

He crowded me, backing me against the side of his truck, towering over me, surrounding me. If he were anyone else, it would have been intimidating, domineering. With Zeke, okay, yes, it was kind of those things, but mainly I felt safe. Safer than I had in weeks.

“You’re shaking,” he said a frown lowering his brows.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

He shook his head. “Don’t need to be, Sunny. I won’t let anything happen to you, understand me?”

I swallowed, trying to get some moisture going in my mouth again. Zeke was the most masculine, raw, male—because man seemed too soft a word for him—that I’d ever been around, and having him this close was affecting me. Which should be impossible right now, but my body had different ideas. “Thank you, for looking out for me,” I said. “You don’t need to do this, but I appreciate it.”

The hard, intense expression on his face softened, then he lifted a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. His fingers slid across, over my cheekbone then lower, below the scar on my cheek. “Sunny . . .” He shook his head.

The gentle, intimacy of that touch floored me. “Yes,” I whispered.

“I promise we’ll get whoever it was that cut your beautiful face, and I’ll make him pay.”

“Cut your beautiful face.” Out of all the things he’d just said, the last thing I should be focusing on was that. Or the way Zeke saw me now. But those thoughts reared up without my say-so. And for the first time in my life I felt ashamed of the way I looked. My face had been beautiful. I knew this because I’d been told that a lot in my life. Now it wasn’t. I had an ugly red scar. That side of my face didn’t work like it used to. Yes, it was vain, but suddenly, I wanted to hide.

I dropped my head forward, letting my hair cover my face. “Can we go please?”

Zeke immediately picked up on the change in me. He stilled for several beats, then moved closer, until he was plastered against me.

“Talk to me,” he rasped.

“Can we just leave?” I tried one more time.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

He also asked a lot of questions. If Zeke didn’t understand something, he asked a million questions until he did. Something else I’d learned about him pretty quickly. He was a man of few words, but he was also stubborn and persistent.

“Can you just drop it?” I said through my hair.

“No.”

Awesome.

“Look at me,” he said.

Crap. I lifted my head.

“You’re not shutting me out, not this time. Now talk to me,” he said.

I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. So I let out a shaky breath, and spilled. “It’s just . . . I have this scar, and my smile . . . it’s lopsided.” My voice was again a whisper. I don’t know why, maybe saying what I was out loud made it more real. When I wasn’t looking in the mirror, I tried not to think about it—well, until someone looked at me and I saw the sympathy in their eyes, or worse, pity. “I know that sounds vain, and there are people a whole lot worse off than me, but . . .” I trailed off, not sure what else to say.

More jaw clenching. “I’m so fucking sorry, Sunny. It’s my fault . . .”

I shook my head quickly. “I don’t blame you. I blame the person who did this.” I pointed to my face. “But that’s not what this is about.”

“No?” More frowning.

“I know I look . . . that I’m not . . .”

His fingers slid under my chin, tilting my face up to him. “Your beautiful,” he said, reading my mind. “On the inside and the outside. That hasn’t changed. Nothing could change that.”

I stared up at him, not sure how to respond. I didn’t get a chance, because he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine, kissing me gently, in a way he never had before. I shivered against him.

“Climb in the truck,” he said against my lips, his ragged breath brushing my skin. “Fuck, I want you. I know I shouldn’t ask for it, but I want you in my bed tonight, darlin’.”

Another shiver. I was so damn weak. “I want you, too.”

He curled his arm around me, moved me to the side and opened the door to his truck. “Get in.”

One more night.

Just one.