Page 100 of Irresistibly Wicked

Fuck. He turned, and the worry in her eyes slayed him, but he didn’t want to be another guy she needed to worry about. It took everything he had to muster a little white lie. “It’s nothing, Angel.”

“Bullshit.” She dropped the roller on the tarp and went to him, her eyes imploring. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Gripping his roller tighter, he forced the grin that had gotten him through life and reached for her with his other hand. “Because I’d much rather kiss you.”

She stepped back and crossed her arms. “Don’t do that.”

“What? Kiss you?”

“No. Don’t play that game with me and joke your way out of this. I’m a frigging EMT, remember? I know what can happen from a head injury, and I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“Fine,” he gritted out. “You want to know what’s going on?” He tossed his roller into the tray. “Ever since the accident, words sometimes get lost in my head. It’s like they’re right there, but I can’t reach them. I thought it would be better by now. It’s better than it was, but it’s just one more thing my fucked-up brain can’t handle. Okay? Are you happy now?”

She pressed her lips together, her brows furrowed, and shook her head. “No, I’m not happy, but I appreciate you telling me.” She stepped closer. “You don’t have a fucked-up brain. It’s not abnormal after a head injury to have trouble finding words. Brains take time to heal. What does your doctor say about it?”

“I never told him.”

Her eyes widened. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Nobody? Not even your family?”

“Fuck no.” He paced. “You think I want anyone looking at me the way you are right now?”

“You mean like I care about you?” Her tone was sharp, cutting through the bullshit straight to his heart. “Zander, don’t you know how lucky you are to have people who care about you?”

Great. Now he looked like a selfish dick. He had plenty of people who cared about him, but he’d never had this, and he probably didn’t deserve it. “Yes, I do. That’s why I haven’t told anyone. I’m sick of being the guy everyone worries about. I appreciate them, and I appreciate you, but none of you need to carry my shit.”

“So you’d rather suffer in silence and pretend it isn’t happening?”

“I’m not suffering. It’s not like I can’t remember how to drive or do my job. They’re just stupid words, and it’s not all the time.”

“What if it gets worse and it could have been prevented? What will you tell your family? Because I’m standing here right now as your friend and your wife, and my heart hurts just thinking about it. Your family trusts you, Zander. It would break their hearts to think you didn’t trust them enough to tell them the truth. You’re doing exactly what I did with Brian. I didn’t want to face the issue, so I pretended it wasn’t happening until it was too late. Is that really what you want?”

Everything she said had him hitting the brakes, and the look of stubborn determination laced with worry on her beautiful face cut him to his core. “Why would it get worse? You just said it’s not abnormal to forget shit after a head injury.”

“It’s not, but I’m not a doctor, and every head injury is different. You need to tell your doctor and let him check you out. Then we’ll know what you’re dealing with. I know it’s scary, but you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll go with you.”

He scoffed. “I’m not scared. I’ll make an appointment, but you don’t have to go with me.”

“Nice try, but you can’t ditch me that easily.” She lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers, her rings glittering under the lights. “You put these rings on my finger, and there are several weeks left on our contract. If you think I’m letting some sexy nurse bat her lashes at you while you’re sitting alone in a waiting room, you’ve lost your freaking mind. I’ve got a wifely reputation to uphold. Waiting-room hand-holding is nonnegotiable.”

He hadn’t gone into this arrangement looking for anything, but here he was, standing in his kitchen, heart raw, chest burning, because she gave a damn.

Swamped by emotions he shouldn’t have, he did what he knew best and set out on a mission to outrun them. “Careful, wifey. You start demanding waiting-room hand-holding and I’m going to assume exam-room quickies are part of a package deal.”

He reached for her, but she stepped back, heat and mischief dancing in her eyes. “Maybe they are. It depends how hot the doctor is.”

“You—” He lunged, grateful for the reprieve, and she squealed, darting across the kitchen. Laughter rang out as he chased her. “If anyone’s defiling you in an exam room, it’s me,” he growled.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

He snagged her wrist, but she shrieked and yanked her arm free. Scurrying away, she stepped on the paint tray, sending paint flying. She slipped on the tarp, knocking over the paint can just as he grabbed her from behind, and they tumbled to the paint-soaked tarp in a heap of carefree laughter. Spilled paint be damned, he rolled her beneath him, and man, what a sight she was, covered in paint, bright-eyed and dimple-cheeked. But as always happened when they were close, the air heated, pulsing with urgency, their bodies burning every place they touched, and in the next breath, their laughter was silenced by the crush of their lips.

The world disappeared, and they rolled around, kissing, groping, and stripping off their clothes. Finally naked, he took her in a punishingly intense kiss, leaving her whimpering for more as he perched above her. He teased her pussy with one hand, her nipple with the other, and the air rushed from her lungs, desire burning in her eyes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, covered in paint, your pussy dripping for me, and those lips. Jesus, those fucking lips taunt me every damn second of the day.” He wanted to kiss them, fuck them, and hear his name fly from them all at once. “Looks like I’m the boss now, Angel.”