Chapter Twenty-One

Tiffany emptied the saucepan of chocolate into the pan, the oven already set.

“Smells good.” Kieran leaned his hip against the counter, his presence both reassuring and unnerving.

He made her not want to screw up. Maybe it was because Kieran managed to look so perfect all the time, because he seemed to have everything so together. The idea of being her normal mess bothered Tiffany.

She tried to hide the nerves beneath a grin as she set the hot saucepan on a potholder. “Well, I can’t cook, but I can bake. You guys have made all the meals, so I figured I’d bribe you with some brownies.”

Kieran huffed a soft laugh. “What exactly are you trying to bribe us for?” His voice came out playful and soft, and carried with it a lot of temptation.

All the things she could ask for crossed her mind, all the things his strong hands could do, the many uses for his wicked tongue, the things she was too inexperienced to know she wanted.

Kieran wrapped his fingers in the front of her shirt and stepped forward, crowding her with his wide chest. “I like that everything you think runs across your face. It’s fun watching you get all tangled up.” He brushed his firm lips against hers, then traced her bottom lip with his tongue, a teasing kiss that melted her.

Heat stirred in her lower stomach, her nipples tightening at the skilled movements of his lips to hers. She reached for him, wanting to pull him closer, to convince him to take her right on the counter there.

Before she moved more than an inch, his strong hand caught her wrist as he broke the kiss. “Careful,” he chided.

Tiffany turned her head, clouded by his hiss and his scent, to realize she’d nearly hit her hand against the still hot pan.

“You should be more careful, doll.” Kane came in and hopped onto the counter beside her before sticking his finger in the brownie mix.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Cooking is dangerous. You should watch what you’re doing.” Marshall offered the same amused tone as Kane.

“Oh, so now you’re all best friends, huh?” Tiffany pulled her wrist from Kieran’s grasp, then took the pan before Kane could steal another taste.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Marshall asked.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, but not like this.” Tiffany slid the pan into the oven, then turned to face all three, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dealing with them on their own was hard enough, but when they were together? How was she supposed to keep her wits when they worked together?

Kieran laughed, then retreated to the living room, giving her space. “I called Joshua. No sign of anyone at your apartment or any of our homes, and Sam hasn’t found anything new.”

“Maybe that guy was alone?” Tiffany didn’t hide the hope at that thought. “When can I go home?”

All three men froze at that, like she’d uttered some curse. Right. Home. The place we won’t be living together anymore.

Was she hoping for Kieran to say something? For someone to say something about what would happen after they went back to the city?

“Another week, probably.” Kieran turned his back toward her, his words flat and empty.

Of course, Kieran wouldn’t give me any idea there might be anything else.

She twisted away to set the timer on the stove, taking the moment to school her features. It wasn’t that she expected him to say he wanted forever. She’d wanted some idea that he wanted…something.

He gave her none of that.

Once she’d hit start on her timer, she faced the men in time to see Kane offering a vicious glare toward Kieran before he twisted back to Tiffany, wiping it clear as if she hadn’t seen it. He gave her that mischievous smile he so loved to use, the one that made him seem a few years younger than his age. “I thought you and I might do some self-defense later.”

“Last time you saw me do that, you said you didn’t want to risk it.”

“I saw you nail a man in the balls, and that ain’t my idea of a good time. However, you like me more now, and you like that area a lot more, so I think they’re safe. Besides, from what I’ve seen, exercise seems to get you riled up.” He waggled an eyebrow playfully. “Figured I’d better test that theory.”

His jokes and his smile made it difficult to let Kieran’s distance bother her. It was hard to be sad or hurt when Kane looked at her like that, when his stupid, childish jokes made her laugh.

So, Tiffany let go the issue with Kieran. They hadn’t figured it out yet, and she doubted they would in the next ten minutes. Why let it ruin her evening?

“How long can you stay?” she asked Marshall. “With your cases, I mean.”

“As long as I need to. Don’t worry about that.”

Still, the idea of forcing him from his life, his obligations, it hung on her. “I don’t want you missing out on things because you’re—”

The subtle lift on his eyebrow had her swallowing the rest of her statement. It reminded her that while he might seem the sweetest, he’d also been unrelenting when he’d taken her on the couch. The curl of his lip and the set of his shoulders sent heat coursing through her as she recalled what he could do when she pushed him too far.

“Never mind,” she muttered.

Kane’s bark of laughter shot through the room. “Never mind? Never thought I’d see the day when someone tamed you, doll. Guess the good doctor ain’t as sweet as he seems, huh?”

Tiffany went to argue, but a soft grunt from Kieran stopped her. He crouched down near the wall by the bookshelf. “What’s this?”

Before Tiffany could ask what he was talking about, Kieran stood, a chain hanging from his palm.

My necklace. The one I threw. Tiffany sighed at the broken clasp. She should have never thrown it like that. No matter how frustrated she’d felt, the piece had been a part of those women she hadn’t been fast enough to help. “Sorry about that.”

Kieran didn’t acknowledge the apology, shifting the necklace and holding it up to the light. It was then that Tiffany realized it didn’t look right. The rectangle that had been the charm was bent and split near the bottom.

He clasped his fingers around the charm and pulled, the end coming off to reveal a USB drive.

Kieran held the drive up, his gaze narrowed. “Well, what do we have here?”

* * * *

The night was hot, and, despite having stripped down and left the covers off, Kane couldn’t seem to get past the heat.

They’d spent the rest of the evening trying to pin down the damn drive. That was, of course, Kieran’s area. He’d muttered about encryptions, but fuck if Kane understood a word of it. The brownies had burned in their work, and dinner had ended up as some sandwiches when they’d realized how hungry they’d all grown.

Finally, around ten at night, Marshall had herded them off to bed except for Kieran, who had rejected the idea with a single snarl.

Fine, the asshole could stay up all night if he wanted to.

Kane sighed and shook his head. That wasn’t fair. He was pissed that they finally had some idea of what those fuckers were after, and he was useless. Kane could knock people around, he could track, he could kill, but computers? Fucking. Useless.

So, when Tiffany could have used him, when he could have maybe done something, he had nothing to offer. Instead, he lay in his bed, awake as fuck, and she slept next door.

Always falling short, wasn’t he?

His door creaked open, and he fought the desire to tell Kieran to fuck off. The bastard probably wanted to talk about their next plan, and while Kane didn’t have the same animosity he’d had for Kieran at the start, he didn’t want to have a heart to heart in the middle of the night, either. Kane kept his mouth shut, figuring there wasn’t a need for his piss poor attitude. Wasn’t Kieran’s fault he felt like a failure.

The door shut, and when it did, it pushed a breeze of air his way. On that gust? The delicious scent of Tiffany, and look at that, turned out his cock wasn’t tired, either.

Kane lifted his head to find her slim silhouette moving toward the bed, steps quiet. “Hey, doll.”

She paused, then huffed. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You want me to pretend next time? Because if you try to wake me up with those pretty lips of yours around my cock, I promise I’ll play along.”

She snorted, no tinge of insult in the sound. Nah, Tiffany wasn’t the sort of girl to get offended over something like that. Hell, the increase in her scent wasn’t his imagination, either. She crawled into the bed, miles of warm skin against his as she settled in beside him.

“You ain’t wearing much,” he said.

“Neither are you.” Her small hand settled on his chest, fingertips brushing one of the scars there. “Besides, you came to my room last time.”

He swallowed down the discomfort of her touching the scar, playing off the panic. “So, this is just tit for tat? Because, I don’t mind tit.”

Tiffany sat up, then leaned over him. Was she going to straddle him? His dick might have wilted a bit, but damn if she couldn’t get him back up to snuff fast.

A click, then light poured into the room from the bedside lamp. After a moment, his eyes adjusted enough to make out Tiffany leaning above him, her blue eyes staring down at him with a lot worse than lust. Lust, he could deal with. Lust, he liked.

That shit there? It was pity, and curiosity and fucking steel.

“Don’t ask,” he said, voice somewhere between a beg and a threat.

Her shoulders dropped and she sat back.

He caught her hand to keep her there, despite the fact that she didn’t look at him. “Doll…”

She shook her head. “Don’t. I’m not going to force you, Kane. You’ve been there for me, never made me tell you anything. I’m tired of being on the outside. I want to know you, to understand you, but there’s this huge part of your past I don’t know anything about, that you won’t tell me anything about.”

“Ain’t anything worth knowing.”

Her gaze dropped, and he knew she eyed the worst of the wounds, the thick white scar that had been left when a knife had nearly pierced his heart. Still, she didn’t reach to touch it, nodding at the scar instead. “These almost took your life. You wouldn’t even be here if they had, and you’re telling me that isn’t worth knowing?” A soft sigh blew from her lips, warm and long. “And I’m going to bet that whatever it was left scars that aren’t on your chest. The ones that make you snap and keep people away. You do it to me, too. How do you expect this to work if I can’t even understand you?”

And there it was. The girl was too fucking smart, saw too much. He should have known she wouldn’t let that shit go, that she would eventually figure it out on her own.

Kane pulled her in closer by the grip on her wrist, hiding the flinch as he set her hand over the worst of the scars. Ugly white ruined skin ran over his pec, and even the intricate tattoo couldn’t hide it.

Her eyebrows drew together. “How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

Her short gasp made him want to laugh to break the tension. Sure, fifteen sounded young, but it wasn’t, not in his world. By fifteen he was already watching out for his sister, already out on his own.

“So, what happened?” Her soft fingertips stroked along the thick line of scaring.

The gentle touch pulled the story from him. “I was living on the streets, my little sister Kasey and me.”

“Where were your parents?”

“No idea who our dad was, or if it was the same man. Mom was an addict, and after the first time I found one of her dealers trying to crawl into my sister’s room at night, we were out of there.” He gritted his teeth at the memory, at the way he’d sleep on the floor of his sister’s room when their mom had any fucker she thought could get her a fix over. Fuck, those were bad days. He pushed forward. “I was thirteen when we took off and Kasey was eleven. Making money ain’t easy when you’re that young, and when I couldn’t make cash doing anything legal, well, only left one option.”

Her lip was pressed between her teeth as she listened, and he expected to see disgust on her face. Girl was fucking perfect, with her perfect family life and her perfect past and he was nothing but a mess. When nothing like that crossed her face, he figured she either didn’t get it yet, or she was good at hiding shit.

“Started with easy shit. Did a lot of break-ins, stole shit they needed back, got information. Kid that young doesn’t get noticed much, and it let me slip into places other people couldn’t. Got good at it, developed a network of people who passed information. I wouldn’t say Kasey and I lived in luxury, but she never had to worry about food. We crashed at friend’s places and she got to keep going to school. Kept her out of it as much as I could.”

“What happened to her?”

The question made his scars feel like they’d rip back open. “Guy I worked for gave me a bad job. Wanted me to break into this mansion up in the ritzy area of town, said the asshole owed him a ton of money. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d done that, gotten in real close and scared the shit out of someone, but he wanted more. Guy had three kids and a pretty wife, and he wanted me to kill one of the kids—didn’t even care which one it was. Figured that would send the message that we could get to him anytime, and if he wanted to keep the other two breathing, he’d pay up. I’ve done shitty things, but killing a kid? Fuck, I couldn’t do it. Told him he was crazy, that I wasn’t going to do it. I left and gathered all the cash I had stashed, figured I’d pick Kasey up and we’d leave. Guy was faster, though. By the time I got to the friend’s place we crashed at, friend was dead, Kasey was a bloody mess on the floor, and the asshole left me for dead after he and his buddies carved me up, too. Spent a couple months in a hospital, few more in physical therapy, and realized that doing the right thing is shit.” He offered a short shrug. “Never got to bury Kasey. Fuckers liked to dump bodies, figured it made it easier to hide shit. No idea where they left her.”

Tiffany leaned in, moving slowly as if she knew how wound tight he was, and pressed her lips to the scar. It was a chaste kiss, like soothing the wound that had never healed, would never fully heal. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t get shit twisted here. Kieran wasn’t wrong about me. I am shit. I steal, I lie, I fuck people up for the money. Don’t look at me like I’m some fucking hero when I ain’t. Kasey got killed because I got in deep with the wrong people, because I fucked up and I couldn’t keep her safe. I ain’t a good man, doll, never have been and I don’t see that changing. This?” He waved at himself. “The scars and fucking ink and the way I talk, this bullshit, is it what you were so desperate to know about? Because it ain’t like I didn’t already know you were too good for me, but I guess now we’re both clear on it, ain’t we?”

She said nothing, and the silence chipped away his bravado. He’d done the metaphorical bearing of his teeth to warn her off, tried to make it clear what he was, and now he waited for her to get it. She’ll realized she’s better off without me. Good. Better now than years down the fucking line, huh?

Even as he fed himself that line of bullshit, he held his breath. For the first time, he didn’t want her to go. How many people had he frightened off the same way? At the first sign they might get a look at him, a real look, he’d give them a reason to write him off then take off the other way when he knew they wouldn’t follow.

He didn’t want to do that with her. Fuck, the idea of watching her go, of having her look at him like everything else did, like he was a piece of shit, killed him.

Still, he didn’t take any of it back. He let the ugly truth sit between them and fester.

Tiffany broke the standoff, leaning forward to cup his cheeks and take his lips in a kiss that was far sweeter and gentler than he expected. Sex was always rough with him because that sweet shit? Too personal. Too dangerous.

When she slid her lips against his, coaxing as if he were some virgin in need of reassurance, it melted him. He returned the passionate exploration, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue past her warm lips, dipping into her mouth to taste her. She ran her hands over his pecs, not following the scars but rather paying homage to his entire chest, as if the scars were no more or less important than any other part of him.

He broke the kiss with an uneven breath. “I tell you I’m a shitty person and you kiss me? You ain’t got a lot of sense, you know that?”

The smile she gave him sealed the deal. The omega was tough enough to stand against his snarling and his asshole personality and still grin like that. Damn, she was perfect for him.

The point was only made clearer when she slid a leg over his hip, her heat covering him. “I’ve got enough sense to not worry about your snarling. You’re not as scary as you think.”

“Really?” He grasped her hips and rolled her, pinning her wrists above her head and using his weight to hold her down. “Let’s see if you feel the same way after I have you knotted, doll.”