I shifted my weight and bit down on the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want him to think I’d been lying to him, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment he’d somehow created with his perfectly haunting words.

“Reagan—­”

“Only because of Parker. Coen, I swear when you said that my first thought was I couldn’t possibly be the girl you were describing, and I wanted so badly to be her—­”

“Just answer. Did. I. Scare you?”

For long seconds, there was no sound except for our breaths as our faces stayed inches apart. Nothing else. The cars on the street, the ­people walking by—­everything else was tuned out as I studied the worry in his dark eyes. “You didn’t scare me, but there’s something about you that makes me drop my guard, so I need to know: Should I be scared? For Parker . . . should I be scared of your demons, Coen?”

“I’ll never do anything to put Parker in danger, and he’s not in danger from me. Your brother would never have even considered letting me near you if there was a chance of that. There’s just . . . there are things that happened over the years in the army that have stayed with me, and will always stay with me. Things that I wish I’d never seen, things that I can’t talk about even still, and some of them your brother doesn’t know about. But you don’t have anything to be worried about. Okay?”

“I don’t like that for you,” I whispered, and he laughed humorlessly.

“I don’t either, Duchess. But you help.”

He started leaning forward to kiss me when his phone went off again. Looking at the screen, he rolled his eyes. “Yes?” Putting a hand between my body and the car, he pulled me forward and turned me to walk toward the driver’s seat. “We’re leaving right now . . . No I haven’t been making out with her this whole time, fuck, Hudson. We were talking . . . Yeah, you know the thing ­people do when they’re getting to know each other? . . . Fuck off, you’re not punching me, because your sister’s fine, I didn’t touch her. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“He won’t really punch you,” I said when I started my car back up.

“Oh, no. He will. I’m just hoping it’s only one hit.” He smiled wide before leaning in the open window. “So, are we on the same page now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He narrowed his eyes before kissing me quickly. “Drive safe, Reagan.”


I STAYED AT Coen’s for a few hours with Keegan and Erica, and after watching a movie and talking for a while, Keegan and Erica got up to leave. Coen hadn’t made a move to let me leave his arms, but Keegan threw me over his shoulder and walked me out to my car, saying I wasn’t allowed in Coen’s apartment without “Keegan supervision.” Oh, and Keegan didn’t punch Coen, even though he’d threatened to every time Coen touched or kissed me. Coen still owed me twenty dollars for that. As soon as I was in my apartment, I searched for my phone for twenty minutes before rushing through washing my face and brushing my teeth, and slipping into my pajamas and turning off all the lights and jumping into bed. I sat there trying to calm my breathing, and laughed at how ridiculous I was acting. I’d just spent hours with Coen, and I was still beyond excited for our phone call.

Bringing up his name on my phone, I tapped on the number and played with the ends of my hair as I waited for him to answer.

“Duchess.”

A soft breath rushed past my lips at the way his deep voice had my arms covered in goose bumps with just one word. With a shaky breath in, I fell back onto my pillows with a smile on my face—­ready to fall asleep to his voice.

Chapter Five

Coen—­August 29, 2010

REACHING FOR MY phone in the cup holder when it started ringing, I glanced at the name and a smile pulled at my lips. “Beautiful,” I said in way of greeting.

She laughed softly. “Delusional?”

“Good to know you still can’t take a compliment. What are you up to?”

“Parker’s at my parents’ again tonight,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “My parents wanted to keep him for the night because they want as much time with him as possible before he goes back to school next week. Or that’s what they used as an excuse anyway.”

My blood heated, and I swear my jeans shrunk. “Are you in need of a distract—­shit.”

“What?”

“I’m on my way to a shoot, and the guy already paid me.” The second I’d seen her name on my phone, I’d forgotten I was even driving.

“Okay, well, have fun.” Her voice had the same sweet softness it always did, but I could hear the disappointment in her words.

This was bad, and it wasn’t me. I was getting ready to call off a shoot—­something I never did—­all because of a girl. “Come with me,” I said suddenly.

“What? No, it’s fine.”

“I’m serious, Reagan, come with me. It’s just going to be at my studio.”

“Coen”—­she laughed softly—­“go to your shoot. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You’re going to make me late if you don’t get in your car and get your ass over here.”

“Oh yeah? And how do you figure that?”

I pulled into the back lot at my studio, but didn’t put my car in park as I said, “Because I’m about to turn my car around and come pick you up.”

“Do you always get your way?”

“Yeah,” I said without hesitation.

After a few moments of silence, she sighed and gave in. “Fine. Fine, I’m on my way.”

“See you soon.”

I pressed the END button, put the car in park and turned it off before climbing out of it. Knowing Reagan was about to see what I’d given up my career to do, I couldn’t stop smiling as I got everything ready for the shoot. My client arrived a handful of minutes later, and after talking more about what he wanted and throwing around some ideas, we started. I tried not to think about the fact that Reagan should have been there ten minutes before. Turning music on as loud as it would go and putting my phone on vibrate so I would know if she called, I tried to focus on my client and what we were going for with this shoot, and not where my mind was wandering to.

By the time the hour-­long shoot ended, I was irritated and worried, and had this annoying feeling crawling up the back of my neck. I was trying not to snap at my client and wondering how I’d managed not to break my phone yet.

Reagan hadn’t shown, and she hadn’t called.

After he left, I flipped through the pictures and was glad I’d somehow managed to get more than enough shots that were perfect for what he wanted, but I felt bad that my client had had to put up with me. As I went through more pictures, I suddenly realized what the annoying feeling was that I’d been having, and my body stilled. Someone was watching me . . . but even as I realized it, I didn’t turn around. I knew it was her. I didn’t know how I knew, I just did.

“Can I help you?” I asked, never looking up from my camera.

“Get anything good?” Her voice was soft and gentle. Like she didn’t care at all that I’d been flipping out for the last hour.

“You could have called.”

“Why would I have done that?”

I lowered my hands and lifted my head at the same time and just stared, seeing nothing, for a few seconds before turning to look at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? I thought you were coming here and you didn’t show!”

“I’m here aren’t I?” The knowing grin never left her face. “You said you always get your way . . . I had to make sure you didn’t this time. Besides, if you really wanted to know if I was coming or not, you could have called me.”

Setting my camera down, I began stalking toward her. “I can’t just stop a shoot so I can check up on you. You told me you’d be here, I trusted you were coming. Reagan, I’ve been going out of my mind wondering where you were. I didn’t know if you’d gotten in a wreck, if you just decided not to come . . . a thousand possibilities were running through my mind. I was acting like a dick to my client because of you, do you realize that?”

Her smile faltered. “I’m sorry you were worried, honestly I was just waiting for you to turn around . . . and right now, Coen, I’m just playing with you. I’ve been here for almost an hour, but because you didn’t notice me until just now . . . I thought I could tease you about it.”

“Don’t try to—­”

“I’m serious! Call that guy and ask him! I walked in when he was changing into his red shirt, and we waved at each other! I just didn’t want to bother you during your shoot, so I waited back here and watched; I’m sorry you got that worried, I didn’t know. I kept thinking you would turn around, Coen, I swear to God.”

My breathing was ragged, and at some point I’d pinned her up against the back wall. My head understood that she was safe, I could see her, smell her, feel her chest pressed against mine. But my body was still shaking from the amount of adrenaline I had coursing through my veins at the thought of something happening to her, and then her playing me.

Dropping my head, I shook it to the side once and whispered gruffly, “What are you doing to me, Reagan?”

“I don’t know wh—­I’m sor—­do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t want you to leave. I want to know why you’re consuming me this way. I want to know why you’re all I can think about. Why the thought of something happening to you, or you standing me up, can completely ruin me like this. I want to know what it is about you that has me so fucking turned around for the first time in my life.”

She touched the side of my face and put pressure there until I looked back to her, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and filled with wonder. “I’ve avoided men for six and a half years, Coen . . . what is it about you that has me anxiously waiting for a chance to be near you again?”