Roman is unconvinced that nothing happened with me and Jace that night we were both there for dinner. Even though I’ve told him repeatedly all we did in the hallway outside the bathroom was talk, he always gives me the same look that says he doesn’t believe one word that comes out of my mouth. He’s threatened more than once to bring it up directly with Jace. Since the last time a week ago when we argued, I have refused to answer my phone or go to Sunday dinner. I love my brother, love all my siblings, but my privacy is paramount. And besides, I’m still too darn confused over that entire hallway conversation to care what my brother has to say. Granted, I won’t stay away forever. Hell, I’m so weak I actually agreed to attend the Halloween party that Marco has been planning.
I came across as a stupid fool in front of Jace and every day since then, I’ve regretted it. His anger and frustration scared me. Very justifiable anger and frustration, I remind myself. The man has done nothing but treat me with kindness from the first moment we spoke, and every bit of space in between I’ve acted like a total bitch and have blown him off. It’s not his fault I look at him and see possibilities. Not his fault I hate myself a little more for even allowing a thought like that to enter my head. Jace is not my future and whatever possibilities I might like to imagine with him are nothing but fantasy.
I’m well aware that he will most likely be at tonight’s party, and while I’m slightly giddy at the idea of seeing him again, I’m fully focused on keeping a wide berth between us. We might actually end up being friends, but there’s no way I can do that until I sort out the chaos in my head.
For the record, I despise Halloween. Always have. I was the only one of us kids who elected to stay behind with Mama and pass out candy while Papa took the others out trick-or-treating. The costumes frightened me, the eerie music gave me nightmares; once I ate too much candy and ended up vomiting all over my bed. Good times.
I’m willing to try tonight, and the idea of hanging out with my family and friends will be a nice break from the past few weeks of working and doing nothing else as long as I can keep their interrogations to a minimum. The challenge has been to find a suitable costume. After searching around online for a few hours, I finally purchased the perfect one for me: a naughty nurse costume.
Now granted, this mid-thigh, body-hugging white dress is nothing like the baggy scrubs I usually wear to work, but it’s a nice change. A fun change. It dips a little too low in front but a handy safety pin will keep certain things from spilling out too much. There’s a bright red cross on a little sash around my waist and a large one smack-dab in the middle of the white cap that I’ve pinned to the top of my head.
My hair is braided down over one shoulder, and my makeup is heavier than usual. I don’t own a pair of red shoes like the costume package showed, but I do own one pair of sexy black heels that will serve the purpose. The final prop is a plastic stethoscope that I loop around my neck. There’s no way I’m taking my real one to a party. It is as precious to me as gold.
Stepping up to the bathroom mirror, I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can do this. The entire evening is about as far out of my comfort zone as I’ve ever gone before, and I wish I could explain why I’m okay with that. I can’t. All I know is that this change, whatever it is, feels good. It sure as hell feels better than the weight of bad memories that constantly weigh me down.
With a thumbs-up to my reflection, I turn out the light and head into the kitchen. Soon, I’ve got a bottle of Marco’s favorite tequila in one hand, my purse in the other, and I’m strutting down the hallway toward the elevator.
Fifteen minutes later I’m walking through the door of his pricey condo. The party is going strong already, a heavy R & B beat pounding from the stereo. My siblings and their better halves, as well as Jack and Alex and a few people I haven’t yet met, make up the crowd.
Amita greets me at the door and hugs me tightly, looking me over with a wicked gleam in her eye. “Damn, girl. You look hot.”
I can feel my face heat under her approval. “Uh, thanks.”
She takes my hand in hers and pulls me toward the kitchen. “Marco is going to shit his pants when he sees you. Beware.”
I glance down at myself and frown. “Is it that bad?”
Her large brown eyes widen. “Good lord no! You look amazing.” She leans over, whispering in my ear, “And just a bit naughty too.”
Mia and Sabrina stroll in, and we exchange hugs fawning over one other’s costumes. Mia, the conservative member of our group, has on some seventeenth-century number with a tight bodice and a full skirt. Sabrina is a witch, a good witch if I had to guess. Although her tight dress depicts something else altogether. Amita, true to form, is in full devil mode: short red dress with a full skirt, red fishnet stockings and four-inch red heels. The top of the dress barely restrains her overflowing bosom, and I fear if she breathes too deeply she might just pop right out.
“Pretty sure you’re the naughty one,” I whisper when she hands me a mixed drink. She grins and winks at me, unapologetic and owning her sexuality in a way I envy.
My brothers come waltzing in, looking handsome and intimidating as ever. Cruz is the swashbuckling hero to his bride, Roman is dressed as a ninja, and Marco is trying desperately to pull off the role of police officer. Though, I doubt the padded cuffs he’s dangling in front of Amita’s face will be used for apprehension. Well, not the real kind anyway.
Predictably, my brothers take one look at me and freak the hell out. There’s a lot of growling and posturing, and Cruz even suggests I put a sweater on to cover up the cleavage. Thankfully, all three men are smart enough to defer to their women, who quickly put a halt to all the overprotectiveness.
“You guys need to relax,” Amita scolds. “Let her have some fun for a change.” With a shove against my shoulders, she murmurs, “Go mingle. Flirt. Get your freak on.” There’s some more protesting and growling as I snicker and move toward the front room.
Marco’s condo is a sleek, large space of windows and hard surfaces. Too cold for me but perfect for the cocky man he is. Although she hasn’t yet moved in permanently, Amita has added her flare to the main room with a few colorful pillows and trinkets that give life to an otherwise sterile space.
Wandering toward where Jack and Alex are standing, I start to laugh. They are both dressed like pilots from the movie “Top Gun,” complete with aviator glasses and one-piece jumpsuits. Since both men are incredibly good looking, it’s easy for them to pull off the look. In usual Jack form, he takes it to the next level posing for pictures and quoting lines from the movie.
“I feel the need … the need for speed!” he shouts, grinning at me as I stroll up next to them. “Well hello there, gorgeous. Don’t you look sexy as fuck. You should probably take Alex’s temperature. Do it rectally so I can watch.”
Luckily I’m used to antics like this because they are usually coming out of Marco’s mouth. I play right along without missing a beat. “Oh darn. I left my rectal thermometer in my other bag.”
Both men throw back their heads and howl with laughter. Then Jack dips me over his arms and drops a hard kiss on my lips. Setting me upright, he states, “You do know that if I was into women I’d be rocking your world right about now.”
I roll my eyes at him and run my thumb over my lip where he smeared my lipstick. “Honey, I’d be rocking your world.”
Jack leans close and he lowers his voice. “Oh, beautiful, of that I have no doubt.” He glances over my shoulder. “Well, well, well. Look who decided to show after all.”
Turning slightly, I see Jace stepping in through the front door, greeting Marco with a handshake and a smile. My stomach rolls around happily as I take him in from head to toe. Wavy, dirty blond hair falls to his shoulders. He’s wearing a loose white shirt and brown vest and a … a … kilt. He’s wearing a kilt. The entire outfit, including heavy soled knee-high boots and thick leather belt, looks like something right out of a movie. A very naughty, very sexy movie. I take in the rough scruff on his jaw that on other men I’d consider unkempt. He sure as hell doesn’t look like the nerdy teacher I’ve met all the other previous times with glasses and pulled back hair. This man here, who is currently sending me a smoldering look that makes every hair on my head stand on end, looks dashing, sexy—and very, very dangerous.
“Close your mouth, sweetheart,” Jack remarks, sliding his arm around my waist from behind. “Otherwise, he might think you’re interested.”
“Huh?” I’m rummy, tingling from head to toe as I stand there transfixed, leering at him from across the room as he converses with my brother and sips on a dark ale that Amita shoved in his hand. And even though he nods occasionally, and I watch his lips move as he speaks, his eyes remain locked on mine.
Jack’s warm breath drifts across the surface of my ear as he chuckles. “Christ. You two are making me hard.”
Jace says something to Marco and starts to move in my direction. As if in slow motion, he takes one step, then another, mindless of those around him as he moves with the ease and grace of a dancer. The strong, thick muscles of his legs clench with each step, and I have this odd need to reach out and trace my palm along the sinewy length. My heart is racing a furious staccato in my chest. That strange tingling is back taking over my entire body and lighting it from within.
What is happening to me?
“It’s called being turned on,” Jack whispers.
How the heck did Jack know what I was thinking? Did I speak those words aloud?
Jace steps directly up to me and comes to a halt. “Well hello there…” his eyes drift down briefly to where my dress gapes open between my breasts “…Naughty Nurse Moran.”
“Hello … Uh …” What does one call a kilt-wearing God?
“Scottish clansman,” he remarks, taking a pull on his beer and sending his brother a dark look. “Why are you wrapped around Isabella like an octopus?”
Jack chuckles and presses a kiss to my cheek before releasing me and taking Alex’s hand. “What’s the matter, little brother, jealous?”
Jace doesn’t bother to answer, but the relief that slides over his face when Jack lets me go is more than obvious. An excited little flutter of happiness dances around in my stomach. This entire night so far feels like an out-of-body experience, like I’m dreaming. I sure as hell don’t want to wake up any time soon that’s for sure.
“Nice party,” he comments, sipping on his beer and glancing around the room. “Great place.”
I make some noncommittal sound and nod as I stir my drink with my finger, sucking the wetness off as I try to think of something to say. Jace’s jaw clenches as he watches me and looks away quickly, blowing out a heavily-weighted sigh.
We stand there silent for what feels like hours, drinking our cocktails and not speaking to one another. It feels weird. It is weird. Everyone else in the room is laughing and talking, but he and I are standing together like awkward teenagers afraid to speak. I’m still so dumbfounded by the way he looks I can’t even muster a plausible excuse to walk away.
Jack saunters up with Alex hot on his heels, two shots in each hand. “Here. You two tight asses need these. Drink.”
I take the shot in my hand and toss it back wincing at the burn as it slides down my throat. Jace does the same then immediately hands off his empty in exchange for the next one. How sad is it that we need alcohol just to make conversation with one another? I bet he’s never had that problem before. Of course, I doubt that he’s ever been witness to a woman coming completely unglued in a hallway either. Wow, I’m batting a thousand with this guy.
Jack removes my empty glass and shoves the second shot in my face. “Drink, sexy lady. You’ll feel better when you do.”
I hesitate briefly and glance at Jace seeing a daring smirk on his face. I swallow it quickly and enjoy the warmth as I’m incinerated from the inside out. I can already feel the effects, the tingling of my nerves that are more than welcome. I’ll probably regret it in the morning, but I chase the shot by draining my cocktail and hand the glass over to Jack.
“Be a good pilot, will you, Jack? Get me a refill.”
He grins. “Of course. You too, little brother?”
Jace hands over his empty to Alex and nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”
We watch them stroll away laughing. Then I dart a sideways glance to Jace and ask, “Little brother?”
He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “He was born a minute before I was. He likes to toss that around. Makes him feel important.”
Nodding, I reply, “I completely understand. My brothers love to remind me that they’re older than me. They think it makes them wiser too.” I grin up at him and mock-whisper, “It doesn’t.”
Jack and Alex return a few minutes later with fresh drinks for us both and another shot, which I decline. Sure, I’m enjoying the nice buzz that’s going on inside of me, but I’m always cautious to keep a clear head and to never let alcohol impair my good judgement. I learned that lesson the hard way. The involuntary grimace that follows that thought doesn’t go unnoticed.
Jace frowns and leans down toward me. “You okay?”
Forcing the morbid thoughts aside, I nod and smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He looks doubtful and really, I can’t blame him. He must think I’m crazy after the way I’ve treated him. Talk about a high-maintenance chick. Geez, even I’m getting annoyed with myself at all the hot and cold moods.
This is exactly the reason why I’ve kept my distance from men in the past, and why I refuse to allow my heart to open to anyone. I carry around too much to burden someone else. The scars run too deep, the pain something that refuses to fade with time. Over the years I’ve reached an acceptance about my life and even though there are times when I try to step out of my shell and find happiness, something always reminds me that I’m not free and will never be.
I’ll enjoy tonight and have fun with Jace, and tomorrow I’ll go right back to the organized, predictable life I’ve made for myself. That life brings me solace and comfort in an otherwise chaotic world where I rely on no one but myself. Sure, I have my family, but since my secrets have only ever been mine, I’m forced to be my own defender and my greatest ally. For his part, Jace is nothing more than a nice way to spend a few hours and a sad reminder of everything I will never have.