“I suck at ties. Every time, it’s like I’m incapable of getting them right.”

“Not true. There’s some ties you’re excellent at.”

“Ahh, yeah.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Guess that’s true.”

From her position on the bed, Denver adjusted her long, sparkly earrings—a recent, unplanned acquisition along with her new dress—and took in the sight of her normally unflappable guy pulling at his tie as he got ready in front of the bathroom mirror. He was so cute when he was grumbly, not that she’d ever tell him that.

“But since you said it, allow me to inform you of your errors.”

“If you must.” She could still hear that same smile, tingeing every word.

“A, you went with a suit instead of a tux. B, you should’ve gone with a bowtie. C, you’ll look handsome no matter what you wear, so stop your bitching.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Now she tells me about the tux and bowtie. How would I know about any of this crap? I’m the son of a guy who tunes pianos and fixes horns. That reminds me though.” He left the tie dangling around his neck as he stepped into the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom. “My folks want to meet you.”

Her first response was to laugh it off and maybe go dig through her duffel for some skimpy lingerie to distract him. She was already dressed for the awards show, but that wasn’t the point. The last thing she wanted to do was fight after they’d come so far, but God, did he have to drop another bomb of domesticity on her while she was still reeling from telling him about some of her past?

Not to mention agreeing to tell Donovan they were a couple. Along with Lila and the band—not that the band didn’t know after the Keith show, but still—and maybe radio interviewers and magazine editors and who knew who else. Soon, everyone would know that she and Ryan weren’t just gleefully fucking with glorious D/s overtones, but were a thing.

A real, honest-to-God thing.

Okay, so probably the D/s overtones weren’t obvious outside the bedroom. Denver tucked her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. At least she didn’t think so.

“Hi there.” Ryan crouched in front of her and gripped her knees. “Not sure if you remember me, but I’m the guy who just asked you to meet my parents.”

“Did you ask? It seemed more like a declarative statement.”

“All right, this is me asking. Denver, will you come with me to meet my parents? I told them about you and they can’t wait to meet you. My little brother Jason too. It’s important to them.” He picked up her hand and toyed with her fingers. “And it’s even more important to me.”

So many things verged on the tip of her tongue. Most of them warnings. She cared about him, so much, and betting on her long term might not be a smart bet. If her past came back to haunt her…

But Ryan’s expression was so genuinely hopeful that she couldn’t trade this moment of happiness for concerns that might never come to fruition. She was simply too selfish. Or maybe stupid.

“I’m not really the woman parents want their son to bring home.” As that spark in Ry’s eyes flickered, she touched a finger to his chin. “I mean, I’ve won every belching contest I’ve ever participated in.”

“Not true. I’ve beaten you at least once.”

“Was it that time you tickled me first? That should count as disarming the competition. Definitely not a fair comparison.”

He reached up to cup her face in his palms, bringing her forehead to his. “I thought you were going to say no.”

“It is my default response to most things.” She sighed. “I don’t try to be difficult, Ry, I swear.”

“You just are. That’s okay. Makes it more of a challenge to break you down.” His quicksilver grin blazed through her as she nudged him back and rose.

“Time to finish getting ready. We’re going to be—”

“We’re right on time. Trust me.” He stood and cupped her shoulders, instantly steadying her.

That was the biggest gift he gave her. For every jolt of awareness and electricity between them, the comfort they shared was equally arousing. He eased her. There was simply no other way to put it.

“Hello, I have been trusting you all over the place. Handcuffs and make-your-own-bondage kits with hundred-dollar pillowcases. I mean, really. And this. Formal wear, Waters.” As his lips twitched, she pulled at the waistline of her shimmery emerald-green, floor-length dress.

As gowns went, it was pretty low-key, but the fact remained that it was one. And she hadn’t worn a dress in a damn long time.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You forgot the heels.”

“I didn’t forget them.” She hiked up the hem of her gown and showed off her black sneakers. “Converse work in all situations, baby.”

“Can’t walk in them?” He made sympathetic noises.

“More like they’re torture devices, so why should I?”

She stopped while she was ahead. Let him think she couldn’t walk in heels. But if she had to parade around like a pretty doll, she wasn’t going to wear footwear that slowed her down. It was probably foolish, but so be it. She wasn’t going to kill years of neuroses built on a very viable fear in a few weeks, no matter how good the sex was.

And it was good. Ridiculously good.

“You look beautiful. If you wanted to go barefoot, it’d work for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, sweet talker.” She reached up to fix his tie. In under a minute flat, she’d done the knot perfectly. “There you go.”

“Miracle worker,” he decided, once he’d checked out her handiwork in the bathroom mirror. Then came the telltale sounds of him digging through his shaving kit, probably for some of that pheromone-laced cologne he splashed on to make her ovaries contract.

“I have one more miracle to accomplish,” she muttered, not even sure he’d heard her.

For a moment, she debated saying the rest. She’d opened the floodgates to him by confessing about part of her past and about Donovan, and she’d seen the questions in Ryan’s eyes about what her uncle had helped her with. Though she hadn’t told Ryan what exactly had precipitated the change, he could probably connect some of the dots.

Whether he even came close to the truth was something else.

She was a coward. As much as she claimed she was trying to keep her distance to protect Ryan—which was also true—she was doing it to protect herself. Telling him about her past and the changes she’d made after she’d fallen for the absolute worst person would be opening herself up to judgment. Just as she’d judged herself time and time again.

Why hadn’t she seen what Marco was sooner? Instead she’d been fooled by the glitz and the glam. The way he’d focused so entirely on her, as if she was the most fascinating woman in the world to him rather than just a naive college student. One who’d barely dated before him and of course was easy pickings for someone older and cultured and experienced.

He’d been the first one to hold her down in bed. To show her the other side of sex, rather than just sweet lovemaking. Deep down, she’d wondered if she was normal because she loved bondage and being controlled. Especially after his controlling nature outside the bedroom had poisoned all the rest.

Being with Ry had shown her she wasn’t broken. Not even close. Or if she was, he was too, and their cracks fit together and made something beautiful.

She owed him the truth. Every bit of it. Even the ugly parts that might make him think differently about her. If she lo—

Ryan’s humming from the bathroom cut off her thoughts. Exhaling, she clutched the phone against her hip. She had to tell him, and she would. Tonight. No more stalling. But not when he was excited about the awards show. She’d wait until after and find the words to come clean. Somehow.

“Oh yeah? What miracle are you up to now?” he asked distractedly, clearly just tuning into what she’d said.

She forced a smile and held up her phone, though he couldn’t see her. “Calling Donovan. His jet would’ve just landed an hour ago.”

Ryan leaned out of the bathroom. “He’s here?”

“Yes, he and Lila and her family flew in for the awards show. I guess they’re combining it with a vacation. Though not sure I’d think traveling with two-year-old twins is all that fun, but I guess if they’re yours, you feel differently.”

She honestly wasn’t sure on that score, but even Michael claimed that having kids with Chloe had changed him, too. She’d punch that ticket when and if her boat came around.

“Jase, my little bro, has a son. He’s three. Cutest kid ever.”

The wistfulness in Ry’s tone made her flop back on the bed, phone in hand. She hadn’t made it any closer to calling Donovan.

While every signal in her head was screaming abort, her mouth wasn’t nearly that smart. “You want kids, don’t you? The white dress, the fence, the whole nine yards.”

Whatever he was doing in the bathroom, he kept it up long enough that she picked up her phone again. Okay, maybe he didn’t want to talk about that particular subject either. Good deal. She’d just—

“Yeah,” he said finally, and when she leaned sideways, she could just make out his fingers gripping the sink. “I guess I do. I didn’t line it all up until you asked, but yeah. Seeing Mike has been an eye-opener for all of us.”

“Careful with your group statements there, bud. Some of us still have their eyes closed and we’re fine with that.” But she gripped her phone tighter, staring at the case until the crystals blurred in her vision.

She’d wanted exactly that once too. Not that she’d sketched out every step in her head, but she’d been a traditional chick at the core. The idea of a husband and kids—and yes, frequent freaky time between the sheets—had seemed…right. The path meant for her once she’d done the school thing and opened her own accounting firm.

After Marco, she’d shelved those dreams along with some others. They were dusty and buried deep. Yet they were still there.

“One thing at a time, Colorado. No one’s trying to hem you in or freak you out.”

“How about manage me?”

“Well, that’s just part of being a wise man. I want to get laid later, you know.”

She snorted. He was such a guy, but at least he was honest. Soon enough, she would have to do the same. She’d started to come clean, but she definitely hadn’t confessed everything yet.

One mountain at a time.

“You’ve been laid plenty,” she said, her finger hovering over Donovan’s speed dial.

“And your point?”

“I don’t have any. I just have to call my uncle and get this over with, so I can get there before they announce your award. I have a good feeling about tonight. Obviously so does my uncle and Li, or they wouldn’t have made a trip out of it.”

He came out from the bathroom, fussing with the cuffs that fell just a little longer than his suit. Designed just for his long, lean form. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the weirdness of you being related to Donovan Lewis.”

She forced her gaze up to meet his. “It’s weird for me too. I didn’t like not telling you guys, but it’s not like we’re chatting every day and breaking bread. I can’t tell you the last family holiday dinner we were at together. It’s not his deal, and it’s not mine.” She blew out a breath. “And I need to make this call before I wuss out.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me here?”

She shook her head. “I just need to spit it all out.” When he looked away, she grabbed his hand. “I love that you want to be here with me.”

He exhaled and paced away from her.

She rubbed her palm down her dress. “Besides, if he wants me off the bus, better he knows now so he can make alternate arrangements before you guys need to get back to California.”

Ryan tipped his head back. “He’s not going to want you off the bus. Colorado, Lila is married to someone in Oblivion. If that’s not crossing eighty-two lines, then you getting my ass from one state to another surely is not.” He crossed the room and stroked a hand down the long sweep of her hair. He searched her face before giving her a small smile. “Meet us downstairs in the Event Center when you’re ready. You know where our table is?”

“Yes. You know I case every joint I enter.” She was only half joking. And she definitely cased all the exits. Just to be safe.

That was how she’d lived her life for far too long now, and it was getting old.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” Before she could say anything, he trailed his fingertip along her jaw and lightly pressed his mouth to hers. “Thank you. I know this isn’t easy.”

“No, but it’s worth it.” Swallowing hard, she gripped his hand against her cheek. “We’re worth it.”

Worth everything, including her honesty. And her trust.

“Damn straight we are. It’s good to hear you say it. See you in a little while.” He took a step away, then turned back and nailed her with that intense, probing stare that always made her pulse go haywire. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”

She traced her fingertip along the modest V-neck of her dress. Her gown wasn’t particularly revealing, but from Ryan’s expression, she might as well have been clad in only Saran Wrap. “As intriguing as that sounds, I think we’ll save those games for when we get back here later.” She smiled as he licked his lips. “After you’ve won that award and dazzled everyone in the audience with your wit and charm.”

“You didn’t mention my devastating good looks. An oversight, I’m sure.” He grinned and started for the door again, then mumbled under his breath. “Fuck it. They can wait another thirty seconds.”

He hauled her up to her toes, driving his hands into her hair. She’d spent time on the loose waves, but he didn’t seem to care. His long fingers speared through them to cup the back of her head, his lips hotly molding to hers as his tongue sought entrance. He didn’t have to wait. She curled hers around his, sucking gently at first. Harder when he made that sound in his throat that always unspooled her at his feet. Lust, longing, love. She could read so much from his smallest reaction.

Before this weekend, she’d been afraid to see evidence of his feelings. It had been safer, easier, to pretend they were just buddies who also liked each other naked.

Now she was beginning to think about having the whole enchilada. Maybe even something like Michael had found. She hadn’t considered anything but this life of emotional abstinence she’d lived for so long that imagining more was frightening as hell.

And exhilarating, especially if Ry was by her side.

“Go,” she murmured, pulling back before she couldn’t. They were both breathing hard, and already she was curling her fingers into her palms to stop herself from hauling him against her again.

“Going.” He pressed his thumb to her lips, leaving behind a delicious little tingle on her skin, and headed for the door.

Once it had shut behind him, she sank to the bed and counted to twenty-five to settle her jangled nerves. Time to get this over with so she could get downstairs to celebrate with the band.

Tonight was their night. She just knew it.

The knock at the door startled her. She bobbled her phone, swearing as it fell to the floor. Shit. She snatched it and tucked it into her bra while she rushed to let Ry back in. He was as off schedule as she was tonight.

Hurriedly, she yanked the door open. “Did you forget your—” She broke off, her heart stuttering to a halt.

It wasn’t Ryan. It was her worst nightmare in the flesh.

“Hello Casey.” Marco smiled slowly. Lethally. “I’ve missed you.”