Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (13 page)

“Beautiful,” he said. “But why don’t you take the makeup off, darling, and come to bed with me.”

I shook my head. “I like the makeup. It makes me feel clean and pretty. Nothing bad can happen to me if I’m wearing it.”

Devon stood and walked to me, then crouched down so our faces were even.

“I understand,” he said softly. “I really do. Come with me.”

He took my hand and I got to my feet. Drawing me to the bed, he sat me down on the edge. I was jittery with nerves, though not because of him. I always felt this way in here. Devon removed my shoes and his, then folded back the covers. He lay down and pulled
my stiff body into his before tugging the blankets over us. His arms surrounded me and I could smell the scent of his cologne. It was something new in the room and I took a deep whiff, the aroma easing the knot of lead in my stomach.

“I remember the first man I ever killed in cold blood,” he said.

That got my attention. “Who was he?” I asked. Our voices were quiet in the room, the house still and silent around us.

“His name doesn’t matter,” he replied. “He had lied to me and betrayed my trust. Betrayed the trust of the woman I work for.”

“Vega.”

“Yes. He had sold us out for money. They came in the dead of night and took me. I endured three months of torture and beatings before I was able to escape. When I did, I went hunting for him. I found him at home in bed, a woman at his side. I didn’t hesitate. One shot, center of the forehead. He was dead scarcely moments after he realized who I was.”

Devon had been tortured for three months. Those words rang inside my head, making my chest ache. I held on to him a little tighter.

“Did you feel better?” I asked.

“Quite.”

“What about the woman? Did you kill her, too?”

“No. She was just a prostitute.”

I thought for a moment. “Three months is a long time,” I said. “How did you survive?”

“I wanted revenge,” he said simply. “I endured because I was not going to allow him to betray me and get away with it. If he’d tortured me himself, I would have had more respect for him. But he betrayed me. There is nothing worse.” He paused. “Like how your stepbrother betrayed you. He was supposed to be your family, but at his hands you found only torture. I understand how you feel.”

I was quiet, digesting this. Devon had gone out on a limb, telling me all that, just so he could share a bit of his pain with mine.

“You didn’t undress,” I said.

“No.”

“And I’m still dressed, too.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to be.”

Turning his body, Devon braced himself above me, his gaze on mine. His hand found the hem of my dress and lifted it, his fingers skimming the tops of my thighs and sending a shiver through me. He didn’t take his eyes off me, holding me in the present. I wanted to wash away the bad memories of this room and replace them with good ones.

The dress was drawn up and over my head, then tossed aside. The blankets fell back as Devon stripped off his clothes before removing my bra and panties. The light remained on and I think he understood I needed it to be that way.

His skin was warm against mine and I drew him to me with a sigh. This felt familiar. This felt right. He kissed me, a sweet brush of his lips against mine that said more than any words could that I was something special.

We didn’t talk and he went slowly, until I forgot where we were and only saw him, only felt him. His mouth was between my legs, his tongue inside me, when I came. Cries and moans fell from my lips as my body shuddered.

“Do you want me, darling?” he asked, his mouth pressing light kisses to my abdomen.

It was sweet of him to ask and my eyes stung with tears. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Good,” he said.

I shifted my thighs wider to accommodate him as he moved back up my body. I felt the hard press of him at the entrance of my body and lifted my hips. We both sighed when he pushed inside me.

Devon and I’d had sex many, many times. We’d also fucked.
This was different. It felt more real, more giving, more sharing . . . less taking. Not that it had been bad before. Sex with Devon had always been amazing. But in this moment, he held me and kissed me, his body moving slowly above mine, and it felt more like becoming one than it ever had.

I was already in love with him, but tonight he stole my heart.

He took great care to push me to another peak, prolonging my pleasure as I came apart beneath him. My senses were acute. Our bodies were slick with sweat, my legs curved around his back to hold him close, and his breath was hot on my neck.

“Beautiful Ivy,” he whispered by my ear. “You’re turning me inside out.”

I’d barely registered the words before he reached his own climax, his body jerking hard into mine. I memorized the feel of Devon losing control, the sound of his gasps and groans as he came, the tightly bunched muscles of his shoulders and arms as he held me tight to his chest.

Afterward, he went to the bathroom, returning with a warm, wet washcloth. Silently, he held me as he wiped off my makeup. I looked into his blue eyes as he worked assiduously, gently cleaning my face until my skin was bare.

“There. That’s better,” he said. “Pretty and clean without the makeup as well.” He set aside the cloth and the meaning of what he’d done wasn’t lost on me. We lay spoon-style, my back to his front, and he idly played with my hair.

“I love you, you know,” I said. It was hard to confess the words, sure as I was that I’d be rejected.

His fingers paused. “I know,” he said at last.

“Do you love me?” I held my breath, waiting for the answer, unable not to hope.

“I care about you a great deal,” he said, his fingers resuming their path through my hair.

My heart sank and I said nothing.

“I’m incapable of loving anyone, sweet Ivy,” he said, and his voice was resigned and a little sad. “I told you that. You’re too sweet a soul to understand.”

“I don’t believe you,” I whispered. “You love Vega.”

“Not in the same way you’re asking me to love you,” he said. “She has my loyalty and yes, that’s a form of love, I suppose.”

We lay in silence while I tried to process this. I was bared to my soul and couldn’t help the sharp stab of rejection I felt.

“Shall I stay in here with you tonight?” he asked, but I shook my head.

“No. I shudder to think of what Grams would do if she caught us.”

“I would surmise I’d learn firsthand the true meaning of the phrase ‘shotgun wedding,’ ” he teased.

I forced a smile, realizing he had no idea how much he’d just hurt me. “Thank you for being in here. For understanding.” Because he
had
understood, and he’d helped me the way no one else had ever been able to.

He brushed a kiss to my forehead before getting out of bed. I watched him dress in silence, admiring the play of muscles underneath his skin. When he was done, he came back to the bed and pulled the covers tighter around me. My hair was splayed across the pillows and he carefully brushed it aside the way I always did before going to sleep. I hated the feeling of my hair tangled around my neck when I slept.

“I’ll see you in the morning, sweet Ivy.”

He left the light on for me.

I stared at the door once he’d gone, realizing with painful clarity how dependent I was on Devon, on our relationship. What would I do without him? He’d made me feel alive, had given me hope and life and love. I’d be lost without him.

And he’d never love me the way I did him.

I’d always felt I was dependent on Logan, but this was much more than my friendship with him had ever been. Would men always see me as Logan and Scott did? As someone tragic and sad, in need of a man to “save” me? It hurt to know Scott saw me that way, and that I’d been mostly blind to it. Devon had realized right away, of course.

I hated myself in that moment. Hated my past that had made me what I was. Hated Jace for hurting me in a way that had damaged me forever. Even hated Logan for how he’d lied to me, making me think I was strong when really he thought I was weak. And Devon earned some of my hatred as well, for making me love him and not loving me back.

I didn’t want to be Devon’s fuck buddy. I wanted him to love me. And since he’d declared he couldn’t—wouldn’t—love me, then there was no reason I should continue sleeping with him. He may not like it, but I had to start weaning myself off him, one step at a time until I could stand on my own.

Devon wasn’t there when I got up the next morning. Grams casually informed me that he’d gone to town but had said he’d be back soon. I had no idea what he’d gone into town for, I was just glad that he’d be coming back.

“Did you sleep well?” Logan asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Fine, I guess,” I said. I’d been a little surprised Logan hadn’t knocked on my door last night, knowing as he did my problems with coming home.

“It sounded like you didn’t get a lot of sleep,” he said, and I caught the meaning behind that and flushed. I guessed he’d heard Devon and me, which explained his absence last night.

There wasn’t anything I could really say to that, so I didn’t. Instead, I caught his sleeve as he went to pass me. “Hey, can we talk?” I asked.

“Ah, sure,” he said, and I understood the reluctance in his voice. Was it ever a good thing when someone began a conversation that way? Not in my experience.

“Let’s sit on the porch,” I suggested, and he followed me outside. We sat in the same spot Devon and I had occupied last night.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

“You. Me. Us,” I said, looking down at my hands twisting nervously in my lap. “What you said the other night when you were trapped.”

“That I’m in love with you.”

His bald statement made me glance up at him. “Yes.”

Logan looked away, his gaze resting on the fields surrounding the house. It was cloudy today and storms threatened. “I know you didn’t want to hear it, and don’t feel the same way.”

“I do love you,” I said. “You’re my best friend, like a brother to me.”

“A brother.” His laugh was tinged with bitterness. “Permanently friend-zoned. I can’t get you out of my head, and all I’ll ever be is like a brother to you.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you. More than anything, I don’t want to hurt you. Please believe me.” My throat was thick as I stared at my best friend since childhood. With all we’d been through together, he’d been my rock on countless occasions.

He looked at me. Pain etched his features, but his smile was soft. “Don’t be sorry, Ives,” he said. “You didn’t do anything. It’s all on me, isn’t it?”

I didn’t respond and we looked at each other. His face was a treasure to me and I reached out to cup his cheek.

“I wish I did feel like you do,” I said softly. “I truly do.”

His smile had faded and his gaze was intent. “You’ve never tried, Ives,” he said. “You put me in a box a long time ago and never let me out. We have something between us—a history and life together. We could have more, you just don’t see it. Or maybe you don’t want to.”

The accusation in his voice stung and I pulled my hand back. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?”

I remained stubbornly silent.

“If it’s not true, then kiss me.”

I gaped at him. “Kiss you? What are you talking about?”

“If there’s nothing between us, then a kiss won’t mean a thing,” he said.

“I’m not going to try and prove something like that to you,” I said, getting to my feet.

“Afraid, Ives?” he jeered, standing and blocking my way back into the house.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped, irritated with him.

“You’ll let some stranger kiss you, touch you, make love to you, but the friend you’ve had the longest doesn’t even get a kiss?”

His reference to Devon made me stop in my efforts to bypass him. “You want to bring Devon into this?” I asked. “Again? This isn’t about Devon.”

“No, it’s about us and how you won’t even give me a chance,” he said.

Exasperated, I threw up my hands. “Fine,” I said. “If a kiss is what it’ll take to convince you there’s nothing between us and never will be, then be my guest.” I stood there, hands on hips, waiting.

Logan watched me, then took a step forward until our bodies were almost touching. I tipped my head back to look at him. His hands settled on my hips and he tugged me closer. I automatically rested my hands on his chest. Logan wasn’t as big as Devon, but he
was in very good shape and I could feel the muscles underneath the cotton of his T-shirt.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he murmured. His head dropped slowly toward mine and my eyes drifted closed. I could feel the warmth of his breath as our lips were millimeters apart—

I jerked away at the sound of a car pulling up. Devon had returned.

I felt guilty, for no real reason. Devon and I weren’t a permanent thing, what I did with Logan was my own business. If I wanted to kiss him, then I would, and Devon could just watch for all I cared.

Right.

He was eyeing us as he got out of the car, his mirrored sunglasses on despite the cloudiness of the day.

“His timing sucks,” Logan muttered bitterly.