FOUR

In the locker room at Twisted Steel Tuesday night, Pippa had given up trying to appear nonchalant.

Naturally that’s when PJ showed up.

“Nervous?” PJ asked as Pippa grabbed her things from her locker.

PJ Coleman-Barrons wasn’t just a co-worker and wife of one of the owners, she was a good friend. Pippa met her before she’d even begun working at Twisted Steel. Being women in a male-dominated industry meant they’d been thrown together at events like auctions and the like, and before too very long, PJ had invited her to the racetrack. Which had turned out to be a regular part of Pippa’s life in the years since.

Three years later when Pippa’s boss decided to move to Montana, Pippa had wavered on whether to accept Hap’s offer and relocate with him to work at his new shop. Washington had become her home, and though she loved her job, she didn’t like the idea of being hours away from both her sisters.

Turned out she didn’t have to waver too long because a few days after that, Mick, one of the owners of Twisted Steel, called asking her to come in for an interview. An interview she never even got to finish because they offered her the job halfway through. They’d known of her work and her reputation and chose her to be one of them.

Twisted Steel, like Hap’s before them, had given her the tools to make her own living. Only with TS, she’d come on as a professional instead of the high school kid who’d grown up on the job. She felt like an equal, though she certainly had more to learn and was always doing so.

“Not in any scary sort of way. Xander is out of my league. And I don’t mean he’s too good for me or whatever.” She pointed a finger at PJ. “He’s so sure of himself. Confident. Ridiculously sexy. But like, I’m a…what’s the baby belt? Baby duckling yellow? Whatever it is, I’m that. And he’s probably a black belt. A titanium belt. With piercings. Damn.”

PJ’s face brightened, and her grin made Pippa blush.

“I’m just going to say piercings are not overrated.” PJ’s tone was dry.

It took Pippa a second, and then she got what her friend was referring to. “I don’t know if he’s got a piercing anywhere, um, genital related,” she whispered. “I just meant.” Pippa paused and pulled the magazine from her backpack. She flipped it open and held it out. “Look at this!”

She took another peek herself and then had to fan her face. Shirtless, straddling a tattoo chair, suspenders hanging at his sides. All his ink, all his skin and piercings and muscles and the look on his face sent little shocks through her.

“He’s very mmmmm. Like, there are words I’m sure would do him justice. Maybe. I just sort of short circuit. When I look at that, words fall away, and all I can hear is that sound. But like low in my belly where a lot of my sex feelings live. Plus, he loves his family. How the flip am I supposed to resist that?”

PJ snorted. “Lady ma’am, I think the better question is why would you want to resist that? You’re old enough to know how rare it is to not only think mmmmm, but to feel it. Ride it out. The feeling and whatever parts you might want to climb aboard. Take it from a person who was in your place five years ago when Asa came along. Not that this is necessarily some big forever moment,” she added quickly. “Just why not see? Man like that can keep you warm at night. Do you know I never get jostled in a crowd because he walks ahead of me like one of those icebreaker things. The crowd bounces off him, and he plows me a path. It’s fucking delightful, I tell you what.”

Pippa started to giggle.

It wasn’t as if she was a virgin. She’d been with Hamish, who certainly wasn’t a baby lamb in the sexy department. She could do this! Okay, stop thinking of Hamish.

Xander wasn’t a brute. Everything would be fine. Even if nothing more than some dinner came out of it.

“I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Somehow when he’d said he lived in an apartment, Pippa had imagined something distinctly smaller than the huge penthouse he’d invited her into.

“I know,” he said with an infectious smile. “It’s the place I grew up in until I was in middle school. Then we moved into a house so I could attend the same performing arts school Miles and Rennie had attended. My family rented this place out for years, but right after I turned twenty-two, it was empty, and my parents offered it to me. I could never afford it on my own, but my dads talked me into it. They didn’t have to try all that hard. I love this apartment.”

He blushed, and she didn’t want him to think she’d judge him negatively. He’d clearly made the explanation before.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, moving to the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing west-facing views of Puget Sound with the Olympic Mountain Range in the distance.

“Sunsets are my favorite time of day,” he said. “When we lived here, we’d have snack time and watch the sky change colors. A few times a month my mom comes by, and we have a glass of wine and do the same.”

That was lovely. Pippa hoped to be the kind of mother whose adult children still liked being with her. “I like your relationship with your mom a lot.”

“Yeah? Me too.” He took her things. “Pizza is on the way. I was planning to cook. I even bought the ingredients, but then I had a tattoo go over the time I’d thought I needed; the client was…a challenge. By the point I got home I didn’t want to cook.”

“I’m so glad I’m not the only one who orders pizza when they’re too tired to cook. Or who has challenging clients. Sometimes I’ll have cereal by the time I slink home. Pizza sounds great.”

He paused, his hand coming to rest at her hip. Heart racing, Pippa remained still as he leaned down to brush a kiss over her lips. “I like it that you’re easy with things like that. Makes things less stressful.”

“Don’t think I’m free of my hot buttons. I have many of them.” She sent him a smile.

“How about a glass of red and tour while we wait for food?”

“Yes, please.”

In the kitchen, he pointed her toward the cabinet for glasses, which she grabbed and then filled once he’d opened the bottle.

“Red okay? This is a pretty basic one, perfect for pizza. There’s white too if you’d prefer.”

“I don’t know a lot about wine. Not more than if I like something or don’t like it. I know there are rules I’m breaking.”

The way she’d just served him sent a shiver up his spine. He believed women were intelligent, brilliant people who often did the work of three with a tenth of the recognition. He believed in equal pay and equal rights, but he really got off on small submissive acts like that. When they were chosen.

It made him want to take care of her in return. A feedback loop. Something he rarely felt this deeply and never this early.

“The only rules are if you like it or not.” He shrugged. “My dad—Ben—is a wine guy. A couple of years ago we got him a wine class done at a friend’s restaurant, so I went too. Learned a lot. Forgot most of it except for the parts where I figured out what sorts of things I liked.”

Even he heard the innuendo in that.

He began to lead her through the apartment. At the base of the staircase, he pointed upward. “Guest rooms. The old master is up there, but I prefer down here.” Around the corner, he pushed open the double doors. “This is my room.”

A wall of windows looked out over the terrace that wrapped around the entire penthouse. His bed dominated the room, positioned so he could lay and see the northern end of downtown including the Space Needle and parts of Seattle Center.

A massive bed. Substantial. He liked a great deal of room to sleep and to fuck. It was a bed made for a hedonist. He looked forward to seeing her bare skin against the pale blue of his sheets. To her scent on his pillows.

There were shelves on the far wall that led to the ceiling. Pippa paused there to take a closer look at their contents, her fingers stretching to touch but not quite making contact.

“Those are all my pads and sketchbooks.”

“All these are yours?” After a glance back over her shoulder at him, she turned back to take in row after row. “Wonderful.”

He breathed in her pleasure for a moment. “Raven gave me the first when I was five or so. Then two more because she told me she didn’t want me to hesitate in filling up all the pages with my drawings. I’ve kept them all since. It’s a great way to see how far I’ve come.”

“This is a special sort of memory book. May I look?”

He moved to the row with his most recent work and slid one free, handing it her way. Trying to pretend he wasn’t dying to know what she thought as she slowly paged through it.

Finally, she closed it with a happy sigh and gave it back. “Thank you. You’re quite a talented artist. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Every night when I go to sleep, I see them and I know I’m supposed to be doing exactly what I’m doing.” Spines of years’ worth of his work filled him with confidence and purpose.

She nodded. “I like that. A good way to view it. I hope I’ll get to see more at some point.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Every time you visit me here, you can choose a book to look at,” he told her, getting close.

She looked up into his face, her eyes wide before she smiled. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“I got the idea from Raven. She’s got all her books too. From her early teens. When I’d stay over at her house, we’d look through them.” He’d been so excited that she’d shared her art with him. And later she’d started giving him his own art supplies and encouraged his love of drawing.

He led her out onto the terrace and then back into the kitchen.

“If I lived here, I’d never want to leave,” she murmured. “Of course, you accepted your parents’ very fine offer.”

Pippa had noticed he was sensitive on the topic of the benefits he’d received from his family. Who didn’t want to be taken seriously on their own merit after all? His parents had made the offer because they had the place to offer up. And no, most people wouldn’t have that opportunity. But one day she hoped to be able to help her kids in whatever way she could, and if Xander kept his head and remembered his good fortune, it wouldn’t reflect negatively on him at all.

She’d seen him at his job. She knew he’d built a reputation that was based on his talent. He didn’t cover himself in designer logos, and though the bathrooms were beyond luxurious, they weren’t gold-toilet-level ostentation.

Every one of his family she’d met had been genuine and down to earth. Including Xander.

It just made her like them all even more.

The pizza arrived shortly after that. “Screening room is right through here.”

He indicated a two-seater couch. “There’s a blanket on the back if you like to get tucked up while you’re watching movies.”

“I have a freakish metabolism. My feet get cold.” She blushed.

“Freakishly adorable,” he muttered before kissing her forehead, leaving her pleased.

He grabbed the fleecy throw, and once she got herself seated, he placed it over her legs and paid attention to be sure her toes were safely wrapped and toasty.

Then he made it absolutely perfect by handing her a plate with multiple slices of pizza and gave her three movies to choose from ranging from thriller-level scares to full-on hiding behind your hands and sleeping with the lights on.

“I only watch ones that scary if I’m sleeping over at Rebecca’s,” Pippa admitted of a recent haunted house flick. “She and I saw it at the theater, and she showed up at my place three hours later because she was afraid to sleep alone and Vivi—her partner—was out of town. Thank goodness she chickened out first or I’d have shown up on her doorstep.”

“Remind me to give you the building code so you can come on up to my door should you need company in the middle of the night. I also have guest rooms if you’d prefer.” He winked. “Should we go with vampires then?”

“Let’s go with vampires,” she said, pleased he wouldn’t judge her for her movie choice.

There she was in his place, relaxed and open with him. As if she’d been there dozens of times before. That was the level of comfort he had around her. Like they’d known one another for years.

She watched the movie, laughing at moments, pulling her hood down over her eyes at others. A steady stream of happiness flowed from her and all around him.

Every once in a while, she made sure he had enough to drink—just a quick check in—and passed over some of the red licorice he’d picked up on a whim.

Xander really liked the way it felt having her in his house.

After the movie ended, he coaxed her into the living room so they could sit on his couch and look at the city beyond.

“I know you’re close with two of your sisters, the ones you came here to Washington with,” Xander said as they relaxed on the couch. “The rest of your family is still in Arizona?”

“My parents and eight of my siblings live there still. Four are married with kids of their own.” Five if she counted Esther, but they didn’t.

“How many siblings are there in total then?”

“Eleven including me. I was never very close with any of the others, though some of the littlest ones were so sweet. I do miss that.” She shrugged. “Even though Esther and Danny live in Fairbanks, they come to Seattle to visit all the time. They have their own room at Rebecca’s, so they don’t have to always bring clothes back and forth or pay for a hotel. When they’re here, I stay over too, so we do wild and crazy things like put together jigsaw puzzles and play board games.”

“That sounds fun. I love jigsaw puzzles.” He took her hand. “So you’re not in contact with any of your family back in Arizona?”

“My parents forbid them any contact with me, Rebecca, and Esther.” She paused while sipping her cocoa. “Maybe someday when they grow up. If they leave.” The sadness in her voice was a punch.

“Religious stuff?” he hazarded a guess.

“Pretty much, yes.”

“What happened? Don’t feel like you need to answer,” he added quickly, though he was dying of curiosity.

“I was cast out, to be more accurate. I was keeping a secret for Rebecca. My oldest brother found out and he ran to tattle, not once thinking about the outcome other than the points he would get for it. Our father is a bishop, a church elder. There was a trial. Sort of. The three of us were told to go or submit to some behavior adjustment.” A fine shiver ran through her, and he wished he hadn’t asked even as the desire to punch someone’s face rose.

“I want to know you, but not to hurt,” he said. “Let’s change the subject.”

Pippa smiled at him. “No, it’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for. It took me time and a lot of therapy, but I didn’t do anything wrong. Rebecca and Esther had done nothing wrong. Esther had met Danny about eight months before that. He came with us, thank goodness. He’d grown up in the real world. Knew how to live in it. He made sure we got an education. I went to high school, my sisters got their GED and worked part time while Danny was the main breadwinner. He and Esther moved to Alaska two years ago for his job. I miss them both, but like I said, we see each other regularly, and I’m with Rebecca and Vivi multiple times every week.”

She sucked in a breath.

“Thank you for sharing all that.”

He couldn’t fathom parents just tossing their kids away. He’d never doubted for a moment just how loved and valued he was. He had a sneaking suspicion the secret she’d been keeping had to do with Rebecca being gay. And that made him even angrier, but also his admiration of these three sisters who fled everything and made themselves a whole life deepened.

It wasn’t that she was embarrassed about what her family had done to her. There was shame for all sorts of reasons. Some of them were wrong. She knew it. Accepted it. In her brain. But sometimes her heart wasn’t sure. The parts of her that had been built before she’d had much chance to develop her own set of values and beliefs sometimes took over.

In those moments it was her sin to simply be a woman. A woman who wanted things she was not told it was acceptable to want. A voice. Freedom to live where she pleased. To love who she pleased. To have an opinion she developed on her own instead of repeating what she’d been told to say.

The child she’d been had been taught from the cradle that it was her place to serve first her parents and then her husband. There was no need for an education beyond how to keep a home. The only acceptable ambition was to have a husband and children. The only acceptable emotion was submission.

Even having been away from it since the age of fifteen, unlearning all that, clearing out the toxic waste of self-loathing and fear, took time and effort. And sometimes she stumbled. As long as there were two steps forward, one step back still meant positive movement.

“I think we should cuddle and make out for a while before you have to leave,” he said, breaking the tension.

“I can get on board with that plan.”

In one easy movement, he lifted her onto his lap, and she straddled his waist, facing him. He was still big this way, but not overwhelmingly so.

“I hate that people who should know better don’t seem to understand your worth.”

“I hate it a lot more for my sisters who are still there. It was hard to make the decision to go, knowing the little ones would grow up there without me to protect them.” Rebecca had hidden her sexual identity for so long because she’d felt the same. But in the end, there was no other choice. Behavioral adjustment would have broken her spirit, and she’d have been useless except as the wrong sort of message. This is what happens when you disobey.

“Do you think they’d have let you continue to be around them after that? If you’d stayed, I mean.”

She shook her head. “We’d have been sent to Montana. That’s where rulebreakers go for behavioral adjustment. Very rarely they came back. Sometimes they’re sent to other families, married into them to anchor them to their new community. I’d never have been allowed to speak to them again. In the end, I chose to be selfish instead of broken.”

She thought often of those girls who’d been sent away sunny and full of life and had returned…deflated. That thread of joy gone. Pippa used those memories to remind herself she was better off.

He wrapped his arms around her and held on. Snug. Surrounded her with his strength.

He didn’t tell her it would be okay. Didn’t say it was for the best or anything like that. Pippa was fairly certain she’d never felt so safe and seen as she did right there in Xander’s arms.

It seemed like a movie plot that such things still happened. He held her firmly, the weight of her in his lap, against his chest, perfect enough to make his pulse thunder.

She relaxed against him, warm and right. He kissed her temple, and she turned her face to meet his lips with her own.

Her taste didn’t rush into his veins like it had a few days before. This time it was a slow and steady recognition.

In an easy movement, he eased her to the side slightly, so she rested her sweet ass on his lap, and leaned her back against the arm of the couch to his left. This way she was spread out for him like a gift. His mouth left hers and took a slow meander across the line of her jaw and down her throat. She made a low sound of approval when he used the edge of his teeth.

That sound…tore something loose. Whatever it was that had been holding him back was gone, and everything rushed forward to greet her. To taste and tease.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders and released. Only to tighten again a few seconds later. Xander couldn’t stop the curve of his lips as he paused at the hollow of her throat. A swirl of his tongue and then a nibble. Sharp. Followed by a lick to ease the sting.

The nibble brought another low sound and the tightening of her hold.

She liked that.

That worked well as he liked bringing that edge of pain.

She tipped slightly, arching her back. His dick was so hard each beat of his pulse echoed through his body. A deep, rather delightful ache.

A line of her belly showed as her sweater rode up, and that creamy expanse of skin called to his touch. So soft. Warm. Responsive as gooseflesh rose in the wake of his fingertips.

“You’re delicious,” he said against her cheek.

“Me?” she said faintly, like she couldn’t possibly have heard him right. Like he wasn’t there, utterly immersed in her.

“You.”

Xander shifted her and paused at the sight of her. Pupils wide, eyes glossy. A blush had pinked her cheeks.

Fuck. He wanted to spoon her up and take a bite.

They could continue and end up naked. He really wanted that. Wanted to watch her features as orgasm stole through her. Wanted to learn all the things that caused those moans and growls she’d made so he could do them again and again.

She smiled up at him, reaching up to brush the pads of her fingers over his bottom lip.

He wanted it so badly he forced himself to slow. To savor the woman in his lap. Keep her so well satisfied she never had a moment to doubt him. There was a shyness to her that flipped every fucking switch he had. That, too, would take slowing down. To draw her along instead of shoving her into the deep end.

Because all the things he wanted to do to Pippa Hall were worth doing right.

When he gave her everything he was, darkness included, he wanted her to be ready for it. And what it would mean for her to accept it. He’d never wanted another person to be his the way the woman in his lap made him yearn for.

He kissed her again, easing back from the edge they’d been poised on. With a soft sigh, she sat upright again on his lap and wrapped her arms around him.

He hummed his pleasure at the way it felt. “The rest of this week is slammed with clients. What are you doing this weekend?” He worked Saturday and Sunday, but he’d be off by six each day. Opening his world up to her and including her in it would be a big part of learning her.

She dropped kisses down his neck and then across his jaw. “Working Saturday until three or so. Sunday, I have a bunch of errands to run. Books to return to the library. Laundry to do, and then I promised the Franklins I’d be there for dinner.”

The Franklins. He’d met them a time or two, as the world of the Browns/Keenans/Copelands often brushed up against the similar-sized intentional family the Franklins had created. Knew Jessi, their youngest daughter, and Hamish. Well, Xander knew Hamish in a different way.

None of that mattered.

“I’m working Friday until nine or so. A group of us usually go out to a place not too far from the shop. Pinball. Pool. Dozens of beers on tap. What do you say?”

“I’ve never played pinball!” Her eyes lit, and all he wanted in his life was to make her look that happy every single day. “There are pool tables at our regular bar but no pinball.”

“What’s your regular bar?”

“The Ditch. It’s sort of the official Twisted Steel place.”

“I’ve seen live music there more than once. It’s so weird to me that you were in some of the same places I’ve been, know several members of my closest family, and we never met until Brody’s party.” Like this was one of those things, right place, right time, right person. Magic.

“I’m sure I’d have noticed you if we’d been there at the same time though,” she said.

Flattered, he grinned. “Same. That pretty red hair would have caught my attention immediately.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Or, you would have been surrounded by stylish, gorgeous people you were paying attention to instead.”

He didn’t have an entourage or anything like that, and he said so.

“I don’t mean a group of sycophants. I mean you’re you. Look at you. I’m me.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re trendy and handsome, and you pump out a steady stream of chemistry and confidence. You feature on magazine covers. People are drawn to you. People like you. I’m a girl, who as my sister reminded me last week, wasn’t allowed to wear skirts shorter than my lower calves or cut my hair until we’d left. I was sixteen the first time I went to a hair salon and found out first-hand what short hair looks like on someone with big red curls. I could have been Annie on Broadway if I had any musical talent. I still can’t wing my liner at all.”

“Oh.” He set her to the side. “I wish I’d known that before we got started on this thing. I don’t think I can kiss someone who can’t wing their liner.”

She blushed furiously and then burst out laughing.

“Maybe,” he told her as he leaned her back, “we can keep kissing while you keep working on the liner? Perseverance. That’s the key to success.”

Laughing, she pulled him down into another kiss.