Bad Boys After Dark: Mick Page 18

  “To give you shit.”

  Mick shook his head. His phone vibrated with a text, and he pulled it out, cursing when their father’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Have fun with that.” Brett patted him on the back and headed out of the office.

  Mick opened and read the text. Heard you signed Pilgrim. Chip off the old block. How his father had already heard the news that Mick had signed Pilgrim Entertainment less than three hours ago for what promised to be a multi-million-dollar suit was beyond him.

  Maybe in some ways, Pop, but not the ways that matter.

  Before going into the meeting, he made two phone calls, one to Logan—the big mouth—and one to Carson, the calm, cool, and collected brother who wouldn’t give him shit.

  **

  AMANDA HELD HER breath as Mick’s distinct footfalls, confident, heavy, even, strode from the conference room toward his office. He’d been in a meeting since five with the one and only famous and stunning actress Penelope Price. Amanda had seen her strut in like she had one thing in mind—seducing Mick Bad. She was tall, blond, and had mile-long legs men would probably pay thousands to have wrapped around their waist. Or head. Ohgod.

  She had to stop this. Jealousy wasn’t going to solve the shattering of her broken heart. It was six thirty, and she’d been trying to catch her breath since last night, when Mick had given her the beautiful necklace. She touched the delicate gold charm now, feeling a little dizzy. She’d thought the necklace symbolized their deep connection, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Think you’ll be okay tomorrow? She’d picked apart his conflicting messages all night, and this morning she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she hadn’t fabricated their intense connection out of hopes and dreams alone. That was before she’d seen his text referencing their secret weekend, which had driven a stake into her heart. She’d shown up at work bound and determined not to make too much out of anything he did or said. She was an adult. She could handle this. Besides, she’d known exactly what she was getting into when she’d accepted his offer.

  She grabbed the documents she’d printed and rose on shaky legs. It turned out she needn’t have worried about misconstruing things. It would have been impossible to turn their clipped, concise, and slightly standoffish interactions into something more. Mick had obviously meant what he’d said about pretending nothing had ever happened between them—and although it shouldn’t, it pissed her off, because what kind of man tells a woman he wants her, showers her with affection, shares deep, dark secrets, and then turns his back?

  Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she walked toward Mick’s office. The walls closed in around her, noises drowned out by the storm of blood rushing through her ears. The door to Mick’s office was finally ajar. She took one long, deep breath, and pushed it open. Mick stood by the windows, tall and broad, his office filled with his manly, provocative essence and power. He turned as she closed the door behind her. In the space of a breath, her body turned to liquid—liquid heat, liquid love—melting her steely resolve to finally make them both face the facts. His dark brows knitted, his serious, quizzical attorney mask in place, replacing all that heat with doubt.

  “Amanda?”

  He didn’t make a move toward her, slaying her anew, but she still refused to believe their connection wasn’t real. Beneath his expensive suit, beneath his attorney facade, and despite the physical distance between them, she felt an undercurrent of love so strong it pissed her off even more that he could pretend it wasn’t there, alive between them like a living, breathing soul.

  “I’m not a weak, pathetic woman, Mick, and I refuse to sit back and let you make me feel…” What? Loved? Because despite his standing there like a statue, he made her feel loved and protected and safe and—her mind scrambled for the right words. His expression didn’t change, and she was going to appear supremely weak and pathetic in about two seconds if she didn’t pull her shit together.

  “Like I can’t read people or emotions, because I can. I did. We had something incredible and intense. We touched parts of each other—not touched, as in sexual, but—ugh! You know what I mean.”

  “Amanda—”

  “Let me finish.” She was breathing hard, in a full-on panic-driven tizzy, and had to get the rest out before he silenced her with his infuriatingly calm explanation of why he didn’t want this to go any further.

  “You can stand there cold and professional and lock away your feelings, because apparently that’s something you’re really good at doing. Pretending.” She paced, talking fast and loud—thankful the rest of the staff was mostly gone for the day—and when she realized he wasn’t pacing, it further angered her. She had no idea what it meant that he was standing stock-still.

  “I’m not buying it,” she seethed. “You said you weren’t scared, but you know what, Mick? I think you’re terrified of allowing yourself to be happy and loved and to love someone back.” She thrust the document into his hands.

  He looked at the papers, his jaw tightening for the first time since she’d entered the room. Finally. A readable emotion.

  “Is this a pleading?”

  “Of course it is,” she snapped. “I’m speaking your language. The one language you can’t deny. Facts, legalese. The fucking smoke and mirrors you hide behind.”

  “Amanda,” he said calmly, and shifted his eyes over her shoulder. “I can’t get into this right now.”

  He couldn’t even look at her? On the verge of angry and devastated tears, she forced herself to suck up the hurt and squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and glared at him until he met her gaze.

  “I’ve always known you were a lot of things, Mick, but a coward was never one of them.” She spun on her heels and nearly smacked into Penelope Price. Amanda’s mind spun. The door to Mick’s private bathroom was open, the light on. Mick and Penelope? How long had she been standing there? How much did she hear? Penelope’s face was a mask of shock and embarrassment. Amanda mumbled an apology and fled, leaving a piece of her heart behind.

  Chapter Seventeen

  AMANDA FLEW THROUGH the doors of the Kiss with her heart in her throat and a whirlwind of emotions storming inside her. Dozens of annoyed customers turned and glared. The author whose reading she’d interrupted shrugged from the platform across the room. His smile was either empathetic or pitiful, she couldn’t tell. She winced and mouthed, Sorry, then slunk to the booth where Ally was busy texting, and slid onto the seat across from her.

  “Nice entrance,” Ally said without looking up from her phone. Her naughty smile told Amanda she was sidetracked by whatever dirty texting game she and Heath were probably playing.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Amanda whispered, and flagged down the bartender, indicating an order for two more of whatever Ally was drinking. It didn’t matter what it was. Gasoline would probably do the job just fine.

  The efficient waiter brought the drinks quickly.

  “Wait,” she said, holding her finger up as she tossed back her head and gulped down the alcohol in one swallow. Ignoring Ally’s wide eyes and the amused glimmer in the waiter’s, she placed the empty glass on his tray and ordered two more.

  “I guess today sucked?” Ally asked.

  Amanda held up a finger, trying to quell the ache in her chest before answering. She did not need to cry at the Kiss, which had become one of her favorite escapes. Romance was alive within the walls of the charming bar. Vintage lamps draped in deep burgundy and laced with intricate black flowering designs hung from the high ceiling, dangling strings of silky fringe like tiny slivers of hope. Candles were placed on rough wooden tabletops and antique furniture. Framed passages of books hung on the walls like shrines, each one lit up from below with shadowy wall sconces. Every week brave writers stood before the crowd, doling out romantic notions like food for starving hearts.

  She felt Ally’s hand cover hers and faced her sister’s warm, empathetic expression. Amanda teared up. Her heart had been starving, achingly so, until the only man she
’d ever loved had fed her, giving pieces of himself in glances, tender words, perfect kisses, holding and cherishing her until her heart was so full she was sure if cut, her blood would be too rich to seep out.

  “Mandy,” Ally whispered, causing Amanda’s tears to spill down her cheeks.

  Amanda grabbed a napkin and covered her face. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry!” She swiped at the unstoppable river of tears. “I told myself I wouldn’t get this invested.” Gulping air, she lowered the napkin and looked at Ally. “It was a weekend, an agreement, and…” Sobs stole her voice.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

  “What happened?” She half laughed, half sobbed and swiped at her tears again. “Nothing, except after three years of loving a man I never thought I could have, I had him and fell harder than I ever thought possible. So fucking hard I’d quit my job and move to the moon if it meant we could be together, and he…” She swallowed against the truth, while the other customers clapped for a reading she’d missed, and they welcomed the next author to the stage. “He was as honest and up front as he’s always been. I’m an idiot.”

  “I wish I’d stopped you from going,” Ally said. “Even though you had an agreement, I want to kick one of Heath’s best friend’s asses. And I’m totally cool with doing it, too.”

  Amanda shook her head, inhaling shaky breaths and forcing her tears to stop.

  “No, it’s not him. It’s me, Al. He never lied. He never once said he loved me or said anything to make me believe we’d be anything more after our stupid Sex Adventure Weekend. And there was no mistaking the brush-off I got today, either. He didn’t say more than a handful of words to me all day, and they weren’t the words of lovers. They were thick black lines drawn in the carpet between the weekend and Monday.”

  She paused when the waiter set the drink order on the table, waiting until he walked away before she spoke again. “I tried to talk to him after work, and he said he couldn’t get into it with me—right before I realized Penelope Price was standing behind me in his office in her fucking minidress and fuck-me heels with her perfect body, angelic face, and…”

  Ally shook her head. “You think he’s doing Penelope Price?”

  “No,” she admitted softly. “I don’t think he’s doing anyone, but it was embarrassing and shocking, and he was just so detached. It hurt, you know?” She looked down at the freckles on her hand, and more tears came.

  She shoved her hand across the table and pointed to the freckles between her thumb and index finger. “See these stupid things? That’s how he knew it was me that first night at the bar crawl. He noticed my freckles.”

  “He noticed your freckles?” Ally brushed her hair over her shoulders and leaned forward, studying Amanda’s hand. “Those tiny things? That seems…intimate.”

  Amanda rubbed an ache at the back of her neck, remembering his affinity for all of her other freckles. “Right? Thank you. I thought I was crazy to feel like it was something special and meaningful. He’d discovered and kissed each of them—on my legs, the backs of my arms, my neck—so tenderly it felt like he was cherishing tiny diamonds embedded in my skin instead of marks I’d simply been born with.”

  “I can’t believe he noticed something so minuscule and then treated you like that. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know,” she said, feeling stronger now that she’d had a good cry. “Ally, the thing is, you know how you knew in your bones Heath was the one? You knew he loved you without a shadow of a doubt?”

  “Every single day,” Ally said with a smile.

  “That’s how I feel about Mick, like I know he loves me. And I know it doesn’t make sense given everything else, but I do. I believe in him, and I believe in his love, and maybe that makes me a fool—”

  “Mandy—”

  Amanda shook her head and held up her hand. “I know. I’m a romantic fool, and I’m going to drink the crazy notion out of my head tonight, but I’m telling you, Mick loves me. He may not be ready to acknowledge it, but he does, damn it.” She picked up her drink as the crowd broke into applause for the second reading she’d missed.

  “Amanda.”

  Ally pointed over Amanda’s shoulder and she turned in that direction—and spit her drink halfway across the floor at the sight of Mick standing on the platform in his dark suit and tie, with a legal pad in one hand, a bouquet of red roses in the other, and a look of love and hope in his eyes that stopped her heart. His brothers moved to and from the edge of the stage, placing vase after vase of red roses at his feet, while Heath and his brothers lined an aisle between her and Mick with enormous containers of white roses, spreading rose petals like a red carpet.

  **

  MURMURS AND WHISPERS resounded around Mick as he gazed out at the woman he’d been dying to talk to for hours. He wasn’t sure his voice would work, and his heart was beating so hard he feared he might have a heart attack with the exertion it would take to speak, but that didn’t stop him. Nothing would stop him from giving Amanda what she’d always dreamed of.

  “Amanda.” His voice cracked with emotion, and he cleared his throat. “I’ve faced down hundreds of corporate attorneys and legal sharks. I’ve won multi-million-dollar cases that took years to crack, and never in my entire life have I ever been this nervous.”

  The crowd laughed, and Amanda smiled, tears glistening in her gorgeous eyes.

  “You gave me a legal pleading.” He smiled. “You know me better than I know myself. When you came to my office this afternoon, you were so determined, so full of passion, and so relentless, it took every ounce of my willpower to keep from sweeping you off your feet. But that wasn’t your dream, and I want to make all your dreams come true.”

  He looked at Carson, standing off to the side of the platform, an old-fashioned boom box at his feet, and he nodded. Carson grinned and pushed a button, filling the silence with “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel.

  Amanda’s hand covered her mouth, and fresh tears tumbled down her cheeks.

  “You spoke in legalese, language I know and understand. But this weekend you spoke to me in your language, the language of love and romance.” He stepped off the platform and focused on the words he’d written at four o’clock this morning and had added to during his meetings this afternoon, and then he met Amanda’s gaze.

  “I haven’t written a romance novel, and I have no passage to read. All I have is this.” He held up the legal pad. “Facts. More legalese.” He paused as the joke hit her and she laughed, her smile peeking out from behind her hand. He tore off a few pages and tossed the pad to the floor.

  “You broke me, baby.” He held up a piece of paper that read, You set me free, and took a step closer. Amanda was shaking, the crowd awwed, and Mick’s heart nearly exploded.

  “You made me face my demons.” He held up another piece of paper and watched as she read, You slayed them.

  He took another step forward, and the entire room faded away. There was only him and Amanda and the pulsing air between them.

  “You wanted to learn.” He held up another sign, watching her tear up again as she read, Instead, you taught me.

  He held up another sign. About love.

  He let the papers sail to the ground and held up the next. And life.

  And the next. And strength.

  “Baby, I swore off having a family years ago.”

  Her eyes clouded over, and he took another step forward and held up another sign, then let it fall to the ground, preferring to say the words instead.

  “Then came you.” He closed the remaining distance between them and reached for her hand. Guiding her to her feet, he dropped to one knee and pressed a kiss to the freckles between her finger and thumb.

  “I was lost, baby. And you were right. I was a coward. For almost three years I’ve wanted to be with you, but I was afraid of getting hurt. You deserve a full life with a real relationship. Marriage, children, a picket fence, and long, loud family vacations.”

 
; He rose to his feet, unable to stand the distance between them any longer, and slid his hand to the nape of her neck, feeling her body shiver from his touch.

  “I was afraid life would come crashing down around us. Afraid I couldn’t survive the pain of knowing your love and losing it. My whole life, I’ve been afraid of feeling, because I thought it could only lead to pain. But it turns out I never knew what pain was, because I’d never loved anyone as wholly and deeply as I love you. Pain is spending another night without you in my arms. Pain is a future without you by my side. I knew I could never live without you before we jumped off the boat and froze our naked butts off.”

  Amanda laughed, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

  “I have no idea if this counts as romantic, but, baby, if it’s not, I’ll figure it out. I promise.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew a jewelry box from Tiffany’s, and flipped it open.

  “Mick,” she whispered, drawing in several shaky breaths and clinging to his hand like he was her lifeline. Lord knew she was his.

  “I’ve got cracks baby, but you’re my glue. Let me love you, faithfully and passionately, through babies and teenagers and old age, through shit storms and magical moments and anything else life throws at us. Amanda, will you marry m—”

  She leaped into his arms, her legs locked around his back, her arms around his neck, and tears flowing like a river, soaking both their cheeks.

  “Yes! Yes, Mick. I’ll marry you. I’ll be your glue.”

  He sealed that promise with a kiss, and the bar erupted in applause and cheers. When their lips parted, he slid the three-carat triangle-shaped diamond ring onto her finger.

  “A triangle,” she said breathlessly, drawing even more love from the depths of his soul.

  “Trilliant, baby. Triangle brilliant, symbolizing our secret connection and your incredible, determined brain. You knew, you believed, and I’m one hell of a lucky man to have found such a brilliant woman.”

  She pressed her hands to his cheeks, smiling and crying, and searching his face.