Feels Like Falling (Dangerous Love Book 5) Read online

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Did Luke have some sixth sense and know that she was just seconds away from making herself come, all the while thinking of him? After several rings she dismissed the call and returned her phone to her nightstand. She had nothing to say to him. He had made himself clear in the Winter Room. Although he was attracted to her and the sexual tension between them was mind boggling, he was not the man for her. She would have loved to ask him how and why he had come to that conclusion, but she was afraid of his response. She had already taken a risk and put herself out there by asking him to kiss her.

  A few seconds later, her phone buzzed. She read the incoming text and frowned.

  Luke: “Did you make it home okay?”

  Why did he care if she had made it home safely? Frustrated, she tossed her phone aside, and flipped on the television. Abandoning her initial plan to pleasure herself to thoughts of him, she decided to find that Scottish hottie after all. But two minutes later, she received a second message from him.

  Luke: “Please answer me.”

  Please.

  She was a sucker for that word. Despite her justified irritation she answered him, but not necessarily in the way he may have expected. She wasn’t letting him off that easy.

  Peyton: “I’ll answer your question when you answer one of mine. Truth for a truth?”

  Luke: “Okay. Ask away.”

  She had half expected him to tell her to forget it, that he no longer cared if her ass had made it home or not, because sharing anything about himself didn’t seem like something he was fond of doing.

  Peyton looked at her iPhone screen. There were a million questions she wanted to ask this tight-lipped man, but for some reason she knew she needed to be careful, that there were topics that would make him shut down and shut her out. She chewed at her lip for a bit as she wrestled with questions she wanted to ask, but she always came back to the same one.

  Peyton: “Did you really have plans to meet Gabe in Atlantic City last night?”

  She pushed send and waited. It was a little ballsy to ask and she would definitely feel like an ass if he texted back yes, but she was willing to go for it.

  His response came back within a few seconds.

  Luke: “No. Now, answer my question.”

  She knew it. So why was he parked along the sidewalk outside of Eden and waiting…for her? Her mind was in a tizzy.

  Peyton: “Yes, I made it home safely.”

  But the second she sent the text she regretted it. She didn’t want their conversation to end. She needed to know more. More about him, about why he had lied…

  Risking looking like an idiot, she texted him again.

  Peyton: “Up for another round?”

  His response was immediate.

  Luke: “Yes.”

  Peyton: “Why did you go to Atlantic City last night?”

  Peyton watched the little dots flicker, signaling that he was in the middle of a response. Her heart pounded, and she started to sweat beneath her white fluffy down comforter. Her phone buzzed and she read his text.

  Luke: “Because I knew you would be there.”

  Maybe she should have felt a little nervous about his response. It did sound a little stalkerish and she’d had her share of stalkers over the years due to her celebrity status. But she didn’t feel threatened right now. Rather, her heart fluttered at his seven-word response. Luke McGinnis had followed her to a sex club, had waited for her on that Atlantic City street, and had taken care of her when she had lost it on the beach. That thought alone should have freaked her out, but it didn’t. Why? She waited for her common sense to kick in. And waited. Until Luke’s question came through.

  Luke: “My turn. The someone you thought you saw at Eden, the someone you haven’t seen in a long time, the someone who had made you run. What is that person’s name?”

  She swallowed as she digested his text. She had started this. This truth for a truth game. She could dodge his question, make something or someone up and he would never know. But whatever the reason, she found herself typing two letters and pushing send.

  Peyton: “Me.”

  She read his response, which came in moments later and sighed. If he was on the fence at all as to whether to pursue her or not she had just made his decision easy. Who would want to get involved with someone who freely admitted her past haunted her? No one. She reread his text once more before drifting off to sleep.

  Luke: “Goodnight.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Luke

  “I need your opinion on this particular property. I think the location is fantastic, prime real estate in the heart of New York City, but I’m not pulling the trigger until you read over the contract and give me the green light.”

  Ashton didn’t need his approval. She was a smart businesswoman and had been scoping out and buying properties to expand her club chain for years now. But he appreciated the fact that she gave him the courtesy to say yea or nay to a project. He never had to worry that Ashton was squandering the club’s money. By the time she had asked for his opinion on a purchase, all the research, all the numbers had been run. Meaning that his approval was just a formality. And he was completely fine with that arrangement. Running a chain of clubs was not important to him. What mattered was that he could continue to remain a silent partner and use Eden as much as he needed.

  “Email me the contract and I’ll take a look,” he said, his mind not at all on real estate.

  “Will do, sexy.”

  Luke ended the call and left his office. Ashton had probably already sent him the contract but he was in no mood to leaf through it right now. No, what he wanted was to see Peyton again, to hear her voice, to feel her pressed up against him while he tasted her. He had been unable to get her out of his head all day despite having a full work schedule. It was almost nine o’clock. His employees had left for the night, leaving him alone in his winery. Normally, he cherished this time of night, this moment of peace, the quiet. But tonight, the sight of the deserted hallways and the vacant Winter Room, the room in which he had taken Peyton against the wall of windows, made him feel empty inside.

  What was she doing right now? Was she still staying with her dad? Off to her next job? The thought of Peyton leaving the vicinity, and most likely in her case the country, made his heart race. And just like that, another panic attack loomed.

  Luke dug his car keys out of his pocket and left. Just a few blocks from the winery while he was waiting at a stop light, he programmed Gus Matthews’ address into his phone, the only address he had on file and followed the directions to a house where Peyton may or may not be. He really did sound like some creepy stalker. Which meant that he needed to remain hidden. He was confident that he didn’t need to actually confront and talk to her to squash the panic attack that was definitely gaining momentum. Just watching her from a distance, to know she was safe and hopefully smiling would be enough.

  That’s the lie he told himself, anyway.

  ***

  Peyton

  Peyton wasn’t in the mood to socialize and give off the appearance that all was right in the world, but she wasn’t going to let her sister down, especially since Lainey had drifted way out of her comfort zone tonight. Peyton still couldn’t get over how confident Lainey had sounded on the phone earlier this afternoon when she called to ask her if she wanted to hang out with her, Walt and a few of his buddies at a local Irish tavern. Peyton had been tempted to ask her sister if she was actually serious, but she refrained and allowed her sister to explain that the tavern catered mostly to locals and that it was highly unlikely that people would recognize her there. She also added that the tavern was hosting a small Irish band and that the focus would hopefully be on them and not her. Peyton imagined that it was a real pain in the ass to go out with her for the night, even if it was just to blow off some steam and have a little fun. It was one of the biggest drawbacks of the career she had chosen. She was always in the spotlight whether she wanted
it or not, and those she loved suffered because of it and struggled to relax when they were in her presence.

  Peyton gave Gus a kiss on his cheek and exited his car. She felt a little silly being dropped off at a bar by her dad, but she wasn’t going to take her car and risk drinking and driving. And if she was going to go out tonight and talk to people she didn’t know, all the while thinking about Luke and that damn kiss, she would need a few drinks. Peyton waved at Gus, but he didn’t leave. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere until she was safely in the bar and she loved him for it. Peyton blew him a kiss and hustled in. Walt immediately intercepted her and greeted her with a hug. She liked how warm and down to earth Walt was…and how perfect he was for Lainey.

  “Thanks for coming, Peyton. You being here…it means a lot to Lainey,” Walt said, smiling. Peyton stepped out of his brotherly embrace. “And to me. I’m sure you know that she rarely comes out to places like this. Too many people and all that.”

  Peyton sure as shit knew that…and why. It killed Peyton that Lainey knew what had happened to her older sister. If Peyton had a choice, Lainey would have never learned that she had been abused, but there was no way of shielding Lainey from it. The police, the doctors, the investigators, those during the trial, had all contributed and together had painted a descriptive and vivid picture of what had gone on in that shitty apartment for over a month.

  The months following the trial, those months that they had found themselves in foster care before they were finally placed with Gus and Gina, were when Peyton had noticed the change in Lainey. Her little sister had gone from innocent and sweet, believing that there was good in everyone, to quiet and distant. Her teachers at school had grown concerned over her change in behavior, the way she had ostracized herself from her peers and kept her nose in a book to escape from reality. Peyton had often heard her sister crying in her bedroom at all hours of the night. The one and only time Peyton had confronted her about it and tried to console her, Lainey had freaked out and told her to leave her alone, that it was her fault her sister had been raped. Fortunately, Gus and Gina had seen Lainey’s misplaced guilt and got her into therapy. It had taken nearly two years for Lainey to accept the truth that the people at fault were Reggie and their mother, not her.

  But residual effects persisted. Like the way Lainey avoided large groups of people or shied away from situations where she could be noticed or put on the spot. Peyton shook her head as she thought about the day she had taken Lainey to the winery and had shown her the grand banquet hall. Why hadn’t she predicted what Lainey’s reaction would be at the sight of that intimidating room and protected her from it? Because she was a complete idiot at times.

  Peyton looked past Walt and caught her sister in mid-laugh while sitting at a table with three rather large men. Lainey’s brown curls bobbed up and down as she giggled at something one of the men had said. She looked comfortable surrounded by Walt’s friends and sipping on what looked like a pint of Guinness.

  “She looks so happy,” Peyton said, unable to take her eyes off her. “Thank you for that.”

  Walt touched Peyton’s arm, stealing her attention away from Lainey and said, “She deserves to be happy…to not have to worry anymore. I’ll do everything to ensure that smile never fades from her face.”

  His honest words brought tears to Peyton’s eyes. She read about the kind of love Walt felt for Lainey and saw how devoted a couple could be to each other every time she was with Gus and Gina. But it still took her breath away whenever she witnessed it, in its purest, most raw form. God, it was absolutely beautiful.

  “I’m counting on that, you know,” she said with a smile.

  He returned her smile, gave her arm a squeeze, and said, “So, how about we get you a drink? It will make it easier to tolerate my friends, though they mean well.”

  “I’ll take a beer and a seat next to the prettiest girl in the place.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Walt said with a boyish grin.

  Peyton stepped up to the round table, which seemed miniscule since the three men sitting around it were massive and asked, “Is this seat taken?”

  Lainey’s eyes widened. “You came!” Her sister stood and hugged her.

  Why was she so surprised? Peyton said she would come and hang out and meet Walt’s friends. And then it dawned on her. She had been away too long. Her sister could no longer count on her because her visits home were too infrequent. That had to change. She made her mind up right then and there that big decisions were going to be made in the very near future. Peyton had been thinking about retiring from modeling for awhile but never had the guts to seriously consider it. Until now. And why should she continue in a career that she really didn’t love, a career that took her away from her family and brought unwanted pressure from the media onto the ones she loved? It wasn’t the money, that was for certain.

  “Of course. I need a night out,” Peyton said, “and a beer from a man who has perfect timing.” Walt had arrived and slipped a pint into Peyton’s hand.

  Walt introduced Peyton to his three friends, who as it turned out worked with him at the firehouse. Which explained why they were built like brick shithouses.

  Peyton settled in next to her sister where she engaged in fun conversation with those at the table. Conversational topics ranged from light to lighter which made the atmosphere comfortable and relaxing. Around ten o’clock the band arrived and started their first set. The lively Irish music lured out even the most sedentary of individuals and the dance floor was quickly packed to capacity. But as much as Peyton enjoyed losing herself on a dance floor from time to time, she was content to sit back tonight, sip on her beer and talk about things that didn’t involve her career. Here at this small Irish tavern she was normal. And it helped immensely that Walt’s friends didn’t even mention or allude to knowing what she did for a living. They were just three flirtatious guys having beers in a tavern on their night off.

  And that was when she saw him.

  Walt’s friend, Chris, had just finished telling her a rather raunchy but hysterical joke when she looked up and saw Luke sitting on a stool at the bar. He was sipping a beer and looking straight at her. Her laughter was cut short, drawing Chris’s attention.

  “Are you alright?” Chris asked.

  She pried her eyes off Luke’s and forced a smile in Chris’s direction. Like Walt, Chris was respectful and kind and seemingly unaffected that she was famous, the kind of guy she should say yes to if he asked her out on a date. “Um…I’m going to use the ladies’ room.”

  Lainey was snuggling against Walt when she asked, “Want me to go with you?”

  “No, I’m good,” she said, trying to remain composed and not look over at Luke.

  She stood, which prompted Chris to stand and ask, “You sure you’re okay? You seem a little flushed.” Chris’s hand gravitated to the small of her back as he looked into her eyes. His large hand didn’t feel possessive or creepy but caring, as if he was truly concerned.

  “Just a little hot in here is all. I’ll be right back.”

  Chris’s hand fell away and she bolted across the tavern in the direction of what she hoped were the bathrooms. She finally looked back at the bar, but Luke was nowhere to be found. Pissed, she continued her trek to the bathrooms anyway and was just about to enter the door marked MNA when someone grabbed her hand and pulled her down a hallway and into some back room which housed a pay phone and a rack full of coats. Like the rest of the tavern, the lighting wasn’t great, but she was able to focus on the man who still gripped her hand and stared at her like he was either going to yell at her or take her against the wall in the most primal of ways.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Who is he?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  It pissed her off that he completely ignored her question and asked her one instead, one that truly left her perplexed. “Who are you talking about?”

  “The man who felt it was okay to touch you here.” He released
her hand, but she instantly felt his fingertips at the small of her back.

  The heat of his touch made her anger fade, at least for the time being and she said, “He’s a friend of Walt’s.”

  “Are you leaving with him?” His eyes darkened and he drew closer. His hand fell away from the small of her back, which thankfully broke the trance her body seemed to be under and her fury was reignited.

  Who the hell did he think he was? She didn’t owe him anything. Not even responses to questions that made her hot and furious at the same time.

  “Did you follow me here?” she asked. Her voice shook a little, but it was better than submitting to his questions.

  “Yes. Now, are you going home with him?”

  “Do you have any idea how messed up that is? That you fucking followed me…again?”

  His jaw clenched and he looked away. Peyton was prepared to continue, to lay into him and tell him that he was a stalker and could go to hell, but then he glanced back at her and she saw the shame in his eyes. “Yeah…it is fucked up. I’m…fucked up,” he said.

  She wasn’t even going to try to pretend that his words didn’t shock her. He knew what he was doing wasn’t normal. That he wasn’t normal. Luke roughly raked a hand through his hair as he paced the small coatroom. He reminded her of a caged animal, one that was anxious and willing to chew through the bars to get free. Shame, worry, pain, fear, confusion. He seemed consumed by each emotion all at once and all she could do was watch him suffer. What happened to him? Why did he look so…broken?

  Before she could ask, Luke shook his head, told her he was sorry and left.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Luke

  Many women would have called the police and rightfully so. He had followed Peyton to that Irish bar, admitted to stalking, and then looked her in the eye and told her he was a fuck-up. But something told him that the police wouldn’t be waiting for him when he got home tonight. Because Peyton wasn’t just any woman. He had watched her digest his words and try to theorize why the man in front of her was losing his shit. Well, she could theorize all she wanted, but the truth was that he had no idea what the hell he was doing. His emotions were all over the place. He was protective and possessive of her one minute and cold and praying his dad would leave Philly and save him the next. So fucking pathetic.