All Revved Up

Chapter 5





“Miguel—”

He turned to his mother with eyes narrowed. “How long have you known?”

Meredith poured a cup of coffee and looked out the window over her kitchen sink. “Since two weeks before you left for Princeton.”

Fury seized his chest, thankfully cutting off his ability to say the vicious things that were on the tip of his tongue.

“Uh oh,” she said, turning to face him. “It’s never good when you become speechless.”

“What the f*ck do you expect me to say?!” He ran a hand through his hair, his pacing across the travertine floor growing more frenzied. “Christ. I had a right to know.”

“And she intended to tell you.” His mother watched him move with her cat-like green eyes. She was still stunningly beautiful; her face still very much like it had been when she’d been a popular prime time television star. “As soon as you graduated.”

“Why wait?”

“She was so afraid she was going to ruin your life.”

“And you didn’t absolve her of that bullshit notion.”

“It wasn’t bullshit. She was a young girl, still in high school. She wasn’t going to be able to go with you. At that time in her life, she needed stability and her mother. You wouldn’t have left her, not like that. And even if we’d convinced you to go ahead for a year, you would have insisted she join you after the baby was born, which would have taken her away from her support system and jeopardized your studies.”

He glared at her.

“Too reasoned for you?” She waved one hand, so damn confident she’d done the right thing abetting Faith in keeping their child a secret. “I’ll be honest: when she first came to me, I thanked God for allowing you to dodge that train wreck. She had you by the balls with Michael. He was going to be a direct siphon into your bank account.”

“You were always wrong about her,” he bit out. “I told you that.”

“I couldn’t take your word for it. You were young, in love, and salivating with lust. It will sound clichéd, but I thought she had you in a sexual spell.”

Spotting a framed photo on a shelf, Miguel went to it and picked it up. It was Michael as a toddler, beating two dandelions together in the garden and laughing. “Was this taken around the time I graduated?”

“Yes.”

“And still no one told me.”

“That’s your fault.”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“There wasn’t a single time you called or wrote where you didn’t extol the virtues of your latest girlfriend. It seemed clear that you’d moved on. Faith was terrified you’d take her son—”

“Our son.”

“Michael,” she corrected. “She was afraid you’d set up a homestead in New York with your society wife and she’d lose both you and your son.”

“And you didn’t absolve her of that notion either!”

“Why weren’t you honest in your correspondence?” she shot back, leaning into the counter. Even though she was unlikely to leave the house again, she was wearing a silk blouse, pencil skirt, heels, and a sapphire choker. “I’m your mother. You could have told me the truth.”

He barked out a laugh. “While you were lying to me? While you were so heroically saving me from a gold digger, I was supposed to tell you I was wretched without her? That there were nights when I couldn’t breathe for missing her?”

“Instead you deliberately fed me what you wanted her to hear, didn’t you?” Her voice and eyes were soft with compassion. “You wanted her to think that you’d already forgotten about her and found someone better, which made you adversaries for Michael. Pride did you both in.”

The truth hurt as much as the lies. “Does Dad know about Michael?”

“No. But Michael knows about you. He has a biased view, of course. Faith doesn’t see any of your faults. Well... that’s not true. She does see them, but she loves you for them.”

God... how had they managed to f*ck up perfection? What they had together...

They had a son. Together. The family he’d always wanted with her.


“I have to go.” He headed toward the archway that divided the kitchen from the living room.

“Go easy on her!” she shouted after him.

“I’m not done with you,” he shouted back, slamming the front door closed behind him.





* * *





He found her on the beach.

Faith had known he would, when he was ready. They’d come here often in high school. With a blanket and boundless passion, they’d made love here more times than she could count. She’d like to think that love still lingered here, in memory, and that they could hold on to it and weather the storm. But that was a small hope amid big issues. There was so much between them now, so much she’d put between them. How could he ever look past it all? She knew how she would feel if she’d lost ten years of Michael’s life.

She felt him approach without turning around. Miguel Santos was like a force of nature. In business or the bedroom, he swept through like a tornado, so exhilarating and dangerous. She waited with her bare feet dug into the cool sand and her arms clasped around her upraised knees. Wind whipped through her hair, drying her tears nearly as fast as they fell.

He sat down beside her. “Where’s Michael?”

“At the shop. I didn’t want him to see me like this.” She blew out a shaky breath. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I have no right to cry.”

His hands curled into fists in the sand.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her gut knotting at how cold and hard-faced he looked. She’d prayed never to see that look of betrayal on his face again. Something inside her died at the sight of it.

“We are so perfect together.” He stared at the horizon. “And yet we f*cked this up.”

“I know.” More tears fell and she brushed them impatiently away. The waves crashed against the shore in rhythmic roars. Seagulls screeched overhead, their wings stretched to ride the powerful ocean breeze. She would forever associate those sounds with Miguel and the pure, untarnished love he’d once had for her.

“We’re going to have to do better when we’re married.”

Her gaze jerked back to him.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he muttered. “We know what we’ve got, what we’re willing to do for it. We just have to stop making decisions for each other without talking about things first.”

Her mouth curved with self-derision. “You say ‘we,’ but it’s really me.”

“Not true.” He reached over and took her hand. “I never asked you what you wanted. I just assumed you wanted the same things I did.”

Her fingers linked with his. “We’ve got so much shit to wade through. How do we get to the other side of this?”

“We need counseling, and we’ll get it. We’ll have to work on us for a while. Figure out how to compromise, discuss possibilities, get rid of resentments, and move forward as one unit. Piece of cake.”

She laughed, but more tears fell. Turning, she pushed him back into the sand and straddled him. “So we forgive and we heal, and we learn to compromise and live happily ever after?”

Propping himself up on his elbows, he stared up her. “Yes, mi amor. Is that so hard to believe? I can bend and you can trust. We can do this. We love each other to the point where we’re driven to do crazy things. If we put as much effort into staying together as we put into staying apart, we’ll be in great shape.”

“You’re so certain you can make everything work out the way you want, aren’t you?” She was amazed love and hope could mingle so easily with pain and regret.

He lifted one shoulder in an insolent shrug. “You love that about me.”

Faith set her hands over his heart to feel its beat. “I do,” she agreed softly. “You lead the way, I promise to follow this time.”

“Not follow. We do this together.” He set one warm hand over hers. “Side-by-side, each giving a little ground so we can meet in the middle.”

Nodding, she said hoarsely, “I can do that.”

“This might be my best birthday ever.”

“It’ll only get better.” She bent down to press her lips to his. “I promise you that.”





# # #





* * * * *





Look for more Wickedness—

releasing every six weeks—all year long...





*January*

Karin Tabke

BAD TO THE BONE





*February*

Sylvia Day

ALL REVVED UP





*April*

Cathryn Fox

TORN BETWEEN TWO BROTHERS





*May*

Shiloh Walker

HUNT ME





*June*

Beth Williamson

LUCILLE’S LAWMAN





*August*

Nikki Duncan

THE BACK-UP FIANCE





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Mackenzie McKade

BATTLESEX GALACTIC





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Shayla Black

WICKED TO LOVE





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To learn more about the Wicked Reads and The Wicked Writers, visit:





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About the Author





SYLVIA DAY





Sylvia Day is the national bestselling, award-winning author of a dozen novels written across multiple sub-genres, under multiple pen names—three! A wife and mother of two, she is a former Russian linguist for the U.S. Army Military Intelligence. Sylvia’s work has been called “wonderful and passionate” by WNBC.com and “wickedly entertaining” by Booklist. Her stories have been translated into Russian, Japanese, Portuguese, German, Czech, and Thai. She’s been honored with the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award, the EPPIE award, the National Readers’ Choice Award, the Readers’ Crown, and multiple finalist nominations for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA Award of Excellence.





Sylvia also writes under the pseudonyms S. J. Day and Livia Dare.





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http://www.sjday.net





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Now enjoy the first Chapter of “Razor’s Edge” from The Promise of Love:





Razor’s Edge

by Sylvia Day

in





The Promise of Love


With Lori Foster, Erin McCarthy, Jamie Denton, Kathy Love, and Kate Douglas





Berkley Sensation

ISBN: 978-0425241073





(All author and agent proceeds are donated to www.OneWayFarm.org)





* * * * *





Chapter 1


When Jack Killigrew’s phone rang, it usually meant someone’s life was on the line. Since he was on leave from the Marshals Service office in Albuquerque, the only calls he would be receiving were in his capacity as a Special Operations Group deputy. As such, he was a last resort and on call twenty-four hours a day. His twelve-man response team was activated only after the shit had already hit the fan.

There were a lot of emotions that filtered through Jack when he was called in, but relief wasn’t usually one them. Right now, however, he’d give just about anything for an excuse to head in the opposite direction.

His fellow deputies would laugh if they knew how edgy he was getting with every mile that passed. As a SOG deputy marshal—a Shadow Stalker—he squared off with hardened criminals and suicidal terrorists as a matter of course. He hunted and apprehended the country’s most-wanted fugitives. He did his job with mechanical precision, never breaking a sweat. The guys called him “Iron Jack,” the man who’d do anything. He faced death as if he had nothing to lose or nothing to live for.


Yet the thought of facing Rachel Tse was shredding him.

“Killigrew,” he answered via the hands-free Bluetooth control in his steering wheel. He’d already noted the lack of a shoulder on the two-lane road. With agricultural fields on each side of him, turning his long Chevy Silverado around wouldn’t be easy.

“Jack.”

Christ. The voice on the other end of the line reverberated through him like a gunshot report.

“Rachel,” he replied gruffly, slowly recovering from the husky sound of her voice. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” She said the word breathlessly, which made him hard. “I was wondering if you’d be here in time for lunch.”

“Lunch?” God, he was screwed. His best friend’s widow was winded from pulling together a birthday party for his eight-year-old godson and he was getting a boner.

It had been two years since he’d last seen her, but apparently time didn’t matter. He’d put off this reunion   as long as he could, but the time had come to deal with it. Steve’s last request had eaten into him far enough to become hazardous. Jack couldn’t allow his own personal crap to jeopardize his team any more than it already had.

“Jack? Did I lose you?”

“I’m here. I was just calculating the possibility of my arriving in time for lunch. I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

There was a pause, as if she sensed the lie.

He hated bullshitting her, but he couldn’t see her today. He needed time to get his head on straight. He hadn’t taken a leave of absence in years and without work to occupy him, he found himself thinking too damn much about her. Visions of her blond hair fisted in his hands... her taut, sweet nipples tightening against his tongue... her long, lithe legs spreading in invitation...

Getting that obsession under control was a necessity if he had any hope of convincing her she was off the hook as far as he was concerned. He was still reeling from Steve’s request that he look after her if she was ever left alone. Jack realized his friend must have known how he felt. As careful as he’d been to hide his longing, something must have betrayed him.

And that killed him. No man should have to deal with knowing his best friend is in love with his wife.

“Where are you?” she pressed.

“I haven’t reached King City yet.” Jack had passed King City long ago and was about twenty minutes away from Monterey. He would pick up the keys to his cottage in Carmel from the property managers who rented it out for him, then grab a six-pack of beer and hunker down for the night. He’d get his bearings and be better capable of facing her in the morning.

“Let’s make it dinner, then. Riley’s spending the night at a friend’s house so I can wrap his gifts without him peeking. It’ll be just you and me. We can catch up.”

Just her and him. At night. With Riley gone until morning? Yeah, right. Jack could imagine the mess running through Rachel’s head now. She’d been crazy about Steve. Madly in love. If she thought Steve wanted them together, she’d make it work, even though he scared the shit out of her. Part of his job was reading people, and as focused on her as his instincts were, there wasn’t a damn thing about her he didn’t register. When he walked into the room, she became skittish—nostrils flaring, eyes widening, body moving restlessly. Her primal reaction aroused every predatory sense in his body, making him edgy and sharpening his hunger for her.

“How about I take you two out to breakfast in the morning?” His voice was rough with desire. “Then I’ll help you finish setting up for his party.”

“All right. But if you make it into town sooner, call me. And be careful on the road.”

It wasn’t a casual warning for Rachel. Steve had been killed by a drunk driver on the way home from work one night, changing all of their lives forever.

Jack hung up. Shifting on the seat, he adjusted the fit of his jeans, which was now extremely uncomfortable. Ahead of him, the road to perdition wound its way through the tiny town of Spreckles.

It was going to be a long week.