Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2) Read online

  I hesitated for a second before he nodded to me, commanding, “Go.”

  A growl rumbled from my chest that was still heaving with the measured exertion I’d spent beating justice into that dick’s face. Steeling myself, I faced the woman I’d done it for.

  I’d come out of the bathroom to see her gone and though Eve quickly explained Jules had gone outside to take Gwen’s call, fear coursed through me like an icy bolt of lightning. Immediately, my gaze whipped to the bar, looking for that fucking Easter egg who’d touched her—touched what was mine. Mine to protect. And the second I didn’t see that smug, pompous-plaid ass, I knew. Just like I’d known that night. Jules was in danger.

  And when I stepped outside to see that prick’s hand around her throat as he fumbled with the waist of her pants, I saw red.

  Bright, vicious red, with the word ‘right’ written over it that I kept hitting over and over again, hardly registering that under my delusion was a drunk human I might’ve killed had Miles not come outside and stopped me.

  Stopped me.

  Christ.

  Miles was always the one gettin’ into bar brawls and things of that sort, especially since we’d moved here. But here we were. Him holdin’ me back.

  I should’ve pulled that man from her, restrained him, and called the cops, or Covington, or someone to come and arrest him for assault. Instead, I tore into him like he was tryin’ to rip my heart from my chest.

  “Let’s get you home,” I said gently, hating myself even more at how shaken and pale she looked.

  It was my fault.

  She was frightened and disgusted with me; I could see it on her face, and I couldn’t argue with it. I’d acted like a brute—uneducated and uncivilized.

  It wasn’t bad enough that fucker assaulted her, choked her, and who-the-fuck-knows what he had planned. But then I had to show up like a fucking raging bull and beat the shit out of him like a rabid animal. Yeah, he sure as fuck deserved it—but she didn’t.

  The harsh and silent guilt trip from my conscience continued as we walked over to the maintenance truck from the resort and she handed me the keys. Even her quiet ‘thank you’ as I held the door open was nothing but salt in an open wound.

  We pulled away just as the cops rolled in, and I caught Miles’ subtle nod to me in the rearview.

  Blocks passed in silence. At the end of each, I caught myself glancing over to her without fail, checking to make sure she was okay.

  She wasn’t okay.

  Each minute revealed more of the damage the night left behind. The finger-sized bruises on her throat. The shadowed stains of blood on her cheeks from where I’d cupped them. It was only after we passed Roasters that the streetlamps began to reflect off the tears that dampened her cheeks.

  “You alright?” I asked quietly, feeling like it was the only thing I could say and hating myself even more for it.

  “Why does this keep happening?” she asked in the softest voice.

  Rage spread like wildfire through my veins. “This has happened before? He’s touched you like that before?”

  Her head whipped side to side and immediately, I could breathe again. Her brow furrowed and tears continued to trail down her cheeks even though she seemed to not even realize them.

  “My whole life, I thought I was going to be something because I didn’t have much choice in the matter. It wasn’t my dream, it wasn’t what my heart wanted, but it wasn’t a bad thing either and nothing bad happened to me because of it, so I let it take from me… until I realized it had taken my happiness… and my hope.”

  My fingers dented into the steering wheel, seeing how she winced when she swallowed.

  “After all this time, I’m finally taking steps to who I want to be and it feels like with every step forward, I get knocked”—she let out a pained laugh—“or choked back two.”

  My jaw locked in place as my heart pounded into my chest with every ounce of force as I heard despair in her voice.

  “Am I—Did I make the wrong choice?” she wondered hoarsely. “Should I have taken all these things as a sign that I shouldn’t be doing this? That I should’ve just stayed here.” She paused as the façade of the Rock Beach Resort came into view, looming on the dark horizon. “And fulfilled the life I was raised into? I just don’t see how so many bad things can happen if a decision is the right one…”

  I turned off the main drive onto the maintenance road that led down to the garage. She didn’t have to tell me that she didn’t want her parents to see her like this—the sigh of relief when the truck moved away from the front entrance was enough.

  My tongue felt thick and clumsy in my mouth as I tried to find something smart to say. Instead, a frustrated sigh escaped before I could stop it when I came up short.

  I didn’t have anything to say because, at that moment, I wasn’t thinkin’, I was only feeling. Every working cell in my body existed solely to feel for her—her pain, her frustration, her sorrow, her despair; I’d take it all.

  Hell, I’d take the whole world on my shoulders if it meant I could take it off of hers.

  “I think people… life… only tries to silence those who have the courage to stand up for themselves,” I finally admitted softly as I turned off the engine, knowing Miles wouldn’t be too far behind us with my truck once he gave his statement to the police. “I think that wrong decisions are easy, and that’s why so many people make ‘em, because there are no obstacles.”

  Her eyes that had been locked in a daze out the window shifted and slid over to me.

  “Obstacles only come when you’re doin’ the right thing because doin’ the right thing is somethin’ worth fightin’ for.”

  Her head tipped to the side, letting my words sift through every corner of her mind that could be hiding doubt.

  “What if I’m not strong enough?” she whispered, like even her voice was struggling to stand firm.

  I turned in my seat, which was hard for a guy my size, but I needed to look at her. I needed her to feel where my words might fall short. There were dozens of better people who would’ve had the right thing to say. Instead, all I knew were the simple truths that life had shown me.

  “Jules,” I murmured hoarsely, unable to stop myself from reaching my bruised and bloodied hand across the console to grip hers comfortingly. “You are strong. After everything you’ve endured, you’re the strongest woman I know. But sometimes, it’s not about strength.” I cleared my throat and pressed on. “A river doesn’t cut through rock because of its strength, it carves its path because its persistent.”

  Her lips thinned into a tight, watery smile as her eyes squeezed shut, releasing several tears from their watery hold.

  “Don’t give up on yourself, darlin’. Don’t give up on what you want,” I begged.

  Like I’d turned on a light switch, her eyes flew open, looking at me with something new—something bold in her gaze.

  The next second, she was over the console with her lips crushed to mine, their softness tasting like a rim salted with tears that quickly dissolved in the sweet warmth of her mouth.

  I was a large man. A formidable one. But when it came to her, I was unapologetically weak.

  Groaning, I gave in to the soft pressure of her tongue along the seam of my lips, greeting it like it was the queen returning home. Her hands fisted in my shirt—a shirt that was probably stained with blood and dirt from earlier and yet, she clung to it like a life raft, pulling herself as close as the cramped confines of the truck’s cabin would allow.

  “You wore your hair down,” I drawled, threading my fingers through its silk, tipping her head to give me better access.

  Her cheeks pinkened. “Someone told me it looked nice like that.”

  My heart swelled in my chest.

  “I think I said it looked beautiful, darlin’.” I swooped in to kiss her deeper, needing more of her determined innocence.

  Her mewls turned into moans as she wrapped her arms around my neck and arched her back to try to
get closer to me. Unfortunately—or fortunately—the console prevented her tits from brushing against my chest, a sensation that would have driven my dick insane. As it was, the damn thing was strangled by my jeans and weeping for her, but the pain was nothing compared to my need to kiss her.

  My hands that had been balled into fists on the tops of my thighs moved with a mind of their own onto her hips. Irrationally, I told myself it was to steady her with the way she stretched across the seat. My fingers betrayed me as they searched for the edge of her shirt and gave themselves a taste of the soft, warm skin underneath.

  I traced and licked every inch of her perfect mouth, kissing her with a finesse that my words lacked. I kissed her for so many damn reasons. I kissed her like it could wipe away any trace of that fucker’s hands on her. I kissed her like I could take her doubts and swallow them whole where they couldn’t reach her anymore. I kissed her like it could show her just how strong she was.

  And I kissed her for me.

  Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  Because I thought she was the most beautiful goddamn soul I’d ever met.

  And because she’d reached for me… she’d wanted me.

  “Mick…” she moaned, her hips grinding against my hands, searching for more. “Please, touch me…”

  My cock jolted, wanting nothing more than for me to yank her all the way across the seat and impale her with its length. Which was why she needed to stay firmly rooted with her lower half on that side of the vehicle.

  “Darlin’,” I growled, nipping at her lower lip. “You’re killin’ me.”

  Even as I confessed, one of my hands glided up over her shirt to cup the soft weight of her breast in my hand.

  Christ.

  Sweet Jesus Christ.

  I knew it’d fit perfectly just like I knew the sky was fuckin’ blue. I grunted, knowing I was pushing every limit. But Jules made me lose every shred of reason—especially when she responded with panting, mindless moans for more.

  Carefully, I tugged her shirt and bra off one shoulder, freeing her breast to me. For me. Because she was mine.

  “Sweet Jesus.” My voice was so low and strangled I hardly even recognized it as the bare weight settled in my hand, her nipple hard and begging against my palm.

  Her gasps, the way she arched against me as my fingers plucked and rolled her tit, fuck, if those small gestures didn’t make me feel like I’d conquered the whole damn world.

  I wanted her.

  Just one taste.

  I tore myself from her mouth long enough to drink in the sight of her golden skin with its peachy peak filling my large grasp—and long enough to see the streaks and smudges left by my fingers.

  Reality hit me harder than a goddamn two-by-four.

  I shouldn’t be kissin’ her… touchin’ her… especially not after what happened tonight.

  Her body froze, sensing the moment was broken.

  “Mick?”

  Reverently, I pulled her bra and shirt back up to cover her before gently guiding her hips back to her seat.

  “You’ve had a rough night, darlin’,” I offered in a hoarse explanation. “I shouldn’t… we shouldn’t—” I broke off, swallowing down a low curse. “You should get inside before someone comes lookin’ for you, and you’re left explainin’ me.”

  Her lips, swollen and red from my kiss, parted in silent protest before my strong girl pulled herself together with a nod and opened the door without a backward glance.

  I stayed in the truck, not trusting myself to not follow her, not reach for her, toss her over my shoulder, and take her home with me where I could keep her safe and love her right.

  Only a few minutes after she disappeared through the side door did another truck pull down the drive, the Madison Construction emblem on the side catching the light.

  Grunting, I adjusted my dick as I climbed down from the cab, realizing painfully that my cock wasn’t on speaking terms with me at the moment.

  “She okay?” Miles asked as I climbed into the passenger seat of my truck, letting him continue to drive.

  “She will be. She’s strong,” I told him tightly.

  Though I’d scared her with how savagely I’d attacked that piece of garbage and hurt her by pulling away and ending what was happening in the truck, I knew she’d be okay. She had to be so I could keep my distance.

  Dirty. Uncivilized. Commoner.

  I’d caught the words that fucker said before I tore into him. Maybe that was why I hit him so hard—because I was afraid there was a grain of truth in what he said, and I wanted to punch that grain back down his throat before it sprouted into a towering tree I couldn’t ignore.

  “And what about you?” he pressed.

  I took a long look at the lavish resort as we pulled away, the structure a monument to the class of society that she came from—the one I’d never be a part of—and decided I didn’t have a good answer to his question.

  The hardest rules of society to break aren’t the ones written in law or carved in stone. The hardest ones are those etched into schools and education and opportunities and connections and money and privilege; they’re not singular or enumerated. They’re woven into each and every thread of life where in order to cut one, the whole fabric has to unravel.

  If it were a law, I’d break it a thousand times over to be with her.

  But it wasn’t. It was the fabric of her life.

  And I would be breaking everything about it in order to be a part of it.

  So, I ignored my consuming desire in order to do the right thing—to push Jules away and diverge my path from hers.

  Jules

  My hands paused on the collar of my blouse. I’d chosen the pale blue top because of the bow that tied around the collared neck, the fabric stylishly concealing the bruises on my throat that bloomed overnight. I’d already doused them with concealer, but the collar was my fail-safe as I went to see my parents this morning.

  Amid the millions of other thoughts plaguing me when I crawled into bed last night was whether or not to tell them what had happened with Mr. Mulroney.

  I double-checked the rest of my makeup and made sure every strand of hair was lying in its proper place before being wrapped up in a low chignon. The Jules in the mirror looked nothing like the girl last night with a in drink her hand, her hair down, and her smile free.

  Today, the mask was back.

  And even after what happened with Riggs, even after what happened in the truck with Mick… I still felt more me in those moments than I did right now.

  “Miss Jules.” I jumped as Mrs. Potts peered into my room. I smiled weakly and began to close the various makeup cases on my vanity. “Your parents will be ready for you in ten minutes before their first meeting.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded.

  Since they’d returned from their trip, I’d seen them only in passing throughout the resort as I tried to continue to fulfill my duties here between my mornings at Roasters and the evenings I went to see Gwen.

  It wasn’t that unusual.

  During the winter months, they spent a lot of time planning improvements to be accomplished in spring before our busy season set it, as well as pursue any new business opportunities for the resort; the latter seeming to be what preoccupied them the most these days.

  “Are you okay, dear?” I glanced up, Mrs. Potts still peering at me from the doorway with concern on her grandmotherly features.

  My mouth opened to reassure her, but instead, a question came out.

  “Mrs. Potts, has anyone ever complained about Riggs Mulroney?” Her weight noticeably shifted. “Especially any of the female staff?”

  The instant flash of protectiveness and anger in her eyes was answer enough, but she replied, “Not in words, Miss Jules.”

  My eyes fell, absorbing further confirmation of my fears. “Thank you, Mrs. Potts.”

  I felt her long, worried stare as she softly shut my door.

  I knew what I had to do.
/>   Slipping on black suede heels I’d be changing out of as soon as this meeting was over, I made my way down to my father’s office, wanting to be early so I could get into town to put my friends’ worries to rest as quickly as possible before heading to the police station to report Riggs.

  To accuse a guest of Rock Beach for assault.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  Mick was right to get me away from the scene last night—to let me step back and decide how I wanted to handle this, whether that meant going to my parents first or directly to the police.

  It would affect the resort, I needed to let them know what I was about to do.

  The door to the office was ajar again, and the sight quelled the thoughts in my mind. Straightening my shoulders, I quickly adjusted my collar and stepped inside, walking straight to the center of the room to wait.

  My head tipped to the side, hearing my parents’ voices from the hall coming closer.

  “Richard, we can’t let her keep behaving like this—going to that silly little shop, mingling with those kinds of people, and now, she’s sneaking back into the resort at all hours of the night… Who knows what could be next!”

  I flinched at my mother’s words. I’d hoped they would’ve missed how late I returned last night. But just because I hadn’t run into anyone on the way to my room didn’t mean the security cameras lacing every inch of the resort hadn’t caught my movements on tape.

  “Jackie, it’s two more weeks. She hit her head, and if that makes her think she wants to be Mary-fucking-Poppins, then so be it as long as it keeps her docile.”

  My throat swelled, forcing my lips to part in pain.

  “It’s entirely unladylike, Richard. And if this doesn’t go exactly as you promised, he’s not—” My mother broke off as they walked into the room and stopped short, seeing me waiting inside.

  Hardly a flash of concern or remorse, let alone a thought of explanation, before they both approached me like those words hadn’t been theirs. My father greeted me with a nod, and my mother placed a swift, sterile kiss on my cheek.