He smiled. “The better to bite, my dear.”
He expected her to back away, but she didn’t. Jane moved closer. Her hands locked around his shoulders and she shot onto her toes. “We didn’t talk about last night.”
“Maybe because neither of us knew what to say.”
“Or because we didn’t want to lie to each other.”
His jaw hardened. “Do you lie to me a lot, Mary Jane?”
She swallowed, the movement of her throat delicate. “I try not to, Aidan Locke. I want you to know everything about me. You matter to me more than anyone else has in a very, very long time.” Her voice had softened with emotion.
Aw, Jane. My Jane. In a flash, he’d picked her up and sat her on the bar top. He put his hands on either side of her body, caging her there as he leaned in toward her. Her breath came faster now as she stared into his eyes.
“But I have lied to you,” she said, and she sounded miserable. “And I’m afraid I’ll do it again.”
“Jane…” I’ve been lying, too. I know it’s fucked up, but I’m trying to protect you.
“If what we have is built on lies…then what does that mean, for us?”
He kissed her. Not hard or desperately or wildly. Just a soft press of his lips because sometimes, he knew that she needed softness.
Fuck, sometimes, he did, too. The world was brutal and dangerous and he wanted to hold on to every tender moment that he had with her. There hadn’t been much tenderness in his life. Not much love, either. Not until Jane.
Was it any wonder he was ready to fight his own pack, to fight heaven and hell and anything in between, in order to keep her with him? “It means,” he murmured against her lips, “that we have to stop lying. It means we have to share every damn thing that is happening. Total trust is what we need. We’re stronger that way.”
Her hand slid against his jaw. He loved it when she touched him. Inside, his wolf arched. The beast needed her just as much as the man did.
“Then time for confession.” She exhaled on a quick, little ragged breath. “The vampire last night scared me.”
“I won’t let him—”
“I won’t let him hurt me. I’m carrying wooden bullets in my gun now. Wooden bullets in the gun and a silver knife strapped to my ankle.” Her lips curved into a wan little smile. “The better to kill all monsters.”
Werewolves and vampires weren’t the only monsters out there.
“But I have to wonder…” Her lashes lowered. “If I do change, if something happens, if I die—”
“It won’t—”
“People die every day, Aidan. Death is a fact of life.” Now she was staring into his eyes again. “You can’t protect me from every single danger out in the world. You can’t lock me away from every threat, can’t keep me wrapped up in cotton.”
Did she think he hadn’t considered locking her away? He was just enough of a bastard that he had. She was the one person in the world who made him completely happy. She fucking completed him—filled that dark hole inside that was where his soul should have been. Taking her, locking her in his home in the swamp, keeping her away from any and every danger…hell, yes, he’d thought about it. Time and again. But in the end…
Jane wouldn’t want to live that way. She’d hate me. And her hate is something I can’t handle. He needed her to look at him with love in her eyes. Because when she did, Aidan felt like less of a monster.
“I agreed to the guards you have trailing me at night, but…when the vamp came at me last night, they were no good.”
He’d chewed their asses out over that fact.
“You can’t stop every threat.”
“Doesn’t mean I won’t try.” She needed to understand that. With Paris’s words ringing in his ears…Annette saw her changing, man. I’m so fucking sorry. Your Jane is running out of time. Aidan intended to do everything possible to save her.
“I’ve lied to you.”
And I to you, sweetheart.
“I told you that my parents were killed by vampires. By the bastard who branded my skin.” Jane shook her head. “But that wasn’t completely true. The man who died that night—Jason Hart—he wasn’t my biological father. My mother…she married him when she was pregnant with me. But he wasn’t my father.” She laughed, but the sound held pain. “I wish he had been.”
“Jane…”
“I heard her talking once, on the phone to someone. About how she wished things had been different. That Drew and I had been his children. She said…she said everything would have been better. That we would have been better.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her lashes fluttered.
“I know her words must have hurt you, but she was wrong. You are better, Mary Jane. There is no one better than you.”
Jane licked her lips. “When you say sweet shit, it makes me want to jump your bones.”