House of Scarlett Read online

  Gabriel’s gaze drops to our joined hands before cutting to my face. “I got him shot in the head. I’m the reason he’s like this. I don’t know if he’s lucky to have me, but I wish every fucking day that I hadn’t gotten him hurt.”

  My stomach plummets to the cracked gray concrete beneath my feet. “Oh God. Gabriel.”

  “I’m not a good guy, Scarlett. One day, I’m going to get my revenge for what happened to Bump. I don’t have a choice.”

  I drop his hand and wrap my arms around him instead. “You may not think you’re a good guy, but I believe you’re a good man with strong principles and loyalty that runs deep.”

  His chin dips for a beat before he lifts that blue gaze to mine. “I guess we’ll find out who’s right. Come on up. It’s not much, but it works.”

  He leads me up the stairs covered with ancient-looking brown-and-orange carpet to a wood-paneled hallway. Noise from a TV show comes from behind the first door, and Gabriel walks past it to the last one. When he opens it, I’m expecting more of the same—old carpet and wood paneling—but I’m totally wrong.

  Inside, the floors are wide planks of dark laminate wood, and the walls are slate blue. The furniture is simple—black leather sofa, dark wood coffee table. As Gabriel hangs his keys on a hook next to the door, I take in a kitchen with stainless appliances, dark wooden cabinets, and gray granite countertops.

  “I was going to move out a few years back, but Bump didn’t want to be that far away from Big Mike. I wasn’t going to leave without him, so I gutted both apartments, and Q and I refinished them so they didn’t look like the hallway.”

  Warmth blooms in my chest at the thought of him staying here, even when he had the money to leave, because Bump liked being close to Q’s family.

  “Like I said, you’re a good man.”

  Gabriel shakes his head again and takes a breath. A serious expression settles itself onto his face. “Enough about me and what I am or aren’t. We gotta talk about you.”

  The warmth I’ve been feeling cools a few degrees. “What about me?”

  “This troll. Your safety. Security. I’m going to call in a favor from a friend. He’s a retired boxer. Golden Gloves champ back in the day. He drives and provides security, and he’s discreet. You’re going to let him be your shadow.”

  “Thank you, but you don’t need to do anything like that. This isn’t the first time that asshole has shit all over my page, and it won’t be the last. I’m not going to let him throw my life into chaos. Then he’d be winning.”

  Gabriel stops a foot away from me. “Are we together?”

  I blink at him. “Yeah . . . I mean, I assume we are.”

  “You’re right. We are together. And that makes your safety my job and a top priority. Your last guy wasn’t a real man, so I don’t expect you to get how this works. But keeping you safe matters a hell of a lot to me, and I wouldn’t be a man—good, bad, or otherwise—if I didn’t take steps to make it happen.”

  Fifty-Five

  Legend

  Scarlett’s face goes pale, and I automatically wonder if I’m coming on too strong for her. I know she’s not used to a guy like me, but that’s too bad. She’ll get used to it.

  “What?”

  Scarlett swallows, and what looks like fear streaks across her face. “Chadwick,” she whispers. “What if he’s the troll?”

  The blood charging through my veins slows with ice-cold determination. “Then I take care of him and the problem goes away.” I don’t mean to sound like an old mob movie, but if the shoe fits . . .

  Her wide eyes lift to mine. “We have to tell the detective. They’ll question him. Dig into his phone and computer.”

  The thought of tipping off the guy to our suspicions seems like a mistake to me, but when tears well in Scarlett’s eyes, I forget about anything else but making them go away.

  “Okay. We’ll play this your way for now. Bring it in, ladybug. You need a fucking hug, and I need to hold you.”

  A tear tips over her lids as I open my arms. “How did you know?”

  “I’m learning you. Now come here.”

  She steps into the circle of my arms, and I wrap them around her, pressing her flush against my chest. We stand like that, in silence, until our breathing matches and I swear we’re in sync.

  She takes a step back, and I loosen my grip, but not much.

  “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Being you.” She rises on her toes to ghost her mouth across mine, but I need more from her. I need it all.

  I reposition my arms to cup the back of her head and tilt it so I can taste her better, and sweet fuck, she is perfect. When her hands go to the hem of my shirt and tug it upward, I’m more than on board with whatever she wants and needs from me right now.

  We break apart so she can lose the shirt, and my fingers find the buttons of her blouse. One by one, I free them, revealing her lacy bra and rounded tits.

  Without another word, I lift her into my arms and carry her into my bedroom. Thank fuck the sheets were changed yesterday and the bed is made. I lower her onto the comforter and follow her down.

  Slowly, like time ceases to exist, we strip each other. She covers my skin with kisses from those pouty lips, and by the time I roll her onto her back and slide a knee between her thighs, she’s soaked and I’m rock hard.

  I slide a finger between her slippery lips and stroke up to her clit. “You need me, baby? Need my hard cock filling this tight little cunt of yours?”

  Her mouth opens on a moaned exhalation. “Yes.”

  “Damn right you do. My cunt. Because you’re fucking mine. Not letting you go. No one is fucking taking you from me.”

  “I love you, Gabriel.” The words fall from her lips, and my heart damn near fucking stops.

  She loves me.

  I squeeze my eyes shut for a beat. “You shouldn’t.”

  When I open them, she’s lifting her hand to my face and stroking across my stubbled cheek.

  “But I do, and I’m not taking it back. And you’re not kicking me out after we have sex either, because you’re scared of how I feel.”

  I dip my forehead to hers. “I’m not scared of how you feel, Scarlett. I just don’t deserve it. But I will. Give me some time.”

  The urge to return her words is so fucking strong that they’re practically jumping off my tongue. But I can’t say them. Not yet. Not until I’m the man she needs me to be. Instead, I press kisses to her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and her forehead.

  “I want you inside me,” she says, lifting her hips until the wetness from her pussy slicks across my dick.

  “That’s exactly what you’re gonna get. All of me.” I push forward, sinking into her tight, wet heat with her name on my tongue and my chest so fucking full that I think it might burst.

  After she screams out “I love you” and falls asleep in my arms, it’s no one’s business but mine that I hold her, listening to her heartbeat, when I should have long since closed my eyes.

  I can’t fall asleep until I say it, even if she can’t hear me.

  I pitch my voice low, so it’s almost inaudible. “I love you too, ladybug. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

  Fifty-Six

  Legend

  “I would go with you if I could, but I promise Gunter is super cool. He’s the only person I trust in the city to get you set up right in this short a time. I’ve known him since I was five,” Scarlett says as I drop her off in front of Curated the next morning.

  Our breakfast conversation consisted of her finally giving in on having O’Halloran drive her and act as discreet security. But, in exchange, I have to go get fitted for a tux that somehow will magically be ready in two days, and I’m not allowed to pay for it. I don’t like that she’s calling in favors for me too, but she held firm on the bargain.

  She even spit on the handshake.

  “I’ll be fine. I got the address.” I give her a kiss. “G
o get ’em today, killer. Sell all the shit. I mean stuff. Your stuff’s not shit.”

  I’m tripping over my words like a kid who just got his first blow job, and I know it’s because she said those three little words to me last night. I can’t help but look at her differently. She’s mine.

  It’s a great fucking feeling, but that doesn’t mean I’m used to it yet.

  “I know what you mean.” She presses another kiss to my lips. “I’ll call you later.”

  I watch her walk up the sidewalk to the front door of her building and wait until she disappears inside.

  She’s safe now, and by the time we leave for the gala on Saturday, O’Halloran will be on duty, and I’ll finally be able to rest easy about leaving her alone.

  After a quick workout at the gym that tells me—loud and fucking clear—I need to start busting my ass if I’m going to be ready for a fight with Bodhi, I shower at the club and then head to the address Scarlett gave me.

  It’s a black door that has a sign that reads gunter and a pair of scissors below his name. Is this dude like Madonna? Only going by one name?

  I ring the buzzer and wait for a few minutes until I hear footsteps. The black door opens, and a guy I’d guess is in his sixties stands there with perfectly styled silver hair.

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he surveys me. “Only for Scarlett or her dearly departed mother would I do this. Come in. We have work to do.”

  I follow him inside and up a set of stairs to the second floor. He unlocks another black door and opens it to reveal a pretty bomb-ass loft with a massive bay window over the street. There’s shit everywhere, though. Four massive tables are covered in books and fabric and crap. It’s like every flat surface has been taken up with more and more shit.

  “I’m Gabriel Legend.”

  He whips a look over his shoulder. “I know exactly who you are, you beautiful brute. Leave it to Scarlett to take a walk on the wild side. You’re quite rough around the edges for her taste, but—”

  I don’t wait for another word before I turn on my heel and head for the door. Fuck this judgmental asshole.

  “And where do you think you’re going? You need a tux, and no one can get you a decent custom one in less than forty-eight hours in this city, except for me.”

  I look over my shoulder and see him standing with his arms crossed in a beam of sunlight from the window.

  “You want to talk shit about me, you don’t fucking do it to my face unless you want a busted nose in return. But you never, and I mean fucking never, say a goddamn negative word about Scarlett to anyone, anywhere, or for any reason. You hear me?”

  His chin lifts in slow motion, and he uncrosses his arms to stare at me like I’m a wild animal in the zoo. “Well, well. I can’t say anyone has had the balls to speak to me like that in years.”

  “Likewise, Gunter.”

  “Why don’t you come back, and we’ll start over—with an apology. I shouldn’t have been so cavalier with my words. I apologize. And what’s more, I would never disparage Scarlett in any way, shape, or form. I’ve known her since she was practically a baby, and I consider her family. I feel quite protective of her.”

  I release the door handle and turn around. “I may not have known her that long, but there isn’t a goddamn thing I wouldn’t do to protect her, and that’s all you need to know about me.”

  Gunter’s lips quirk and he smiles. “That’ll do. Come in. Let’s get you measured so I can get to work performing this miracle.”

  While he measures what seems like every inch of my body, Gunter never stops talking.

  “I started working for Lourdes Scarlett Priest and House of Scarlett when Scarlett was five. You’ve never seen a happier, sweeter child. She played hide-and-seek in the racks of clothes and spent hours flipping through fabric swatches. Her mother was so proud. She thought Scarlett would follow in her footsteps and take over the house, but high-fashion design has never been Scarlett’s passion.”

  “But Scarlett could’ve run the business like a boss. She’s capable as hell.”

  Gunter nods in agreement, making a notation on his pad. “Absolutely, but when Lourdes’s health was failing, she and Scarlett had the discussion about the future of the business, and both agreed on the sale. It was the right move, in my opinion. And they were both incredibly strong women, which is what it would take to make that kind of decision under those circumstances.”

  “What about Scarlett’s dad?” I ask, because I don’t know enough about the asshole whose absence after her surgery made her cry.

  Gunter’s expression hardens. “I hate that man with the fire of a thousand suns.”

  “Damn. I figured he was a major prick, but it sounds like I underestimated him.”

  Gunter clenches the tape measure in his hand. “Scarlett is and will always be Lawrence’s finest accomplishment in his lifetime, but he pretends like she doesn’t exist.”

  “I fucking hate that for her.” I grit out the words from between clenched teeth.

  “You and me both.” Gunter pauses, setting aside the tape measure and lifting his brown eyes to mine. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

  I shift my feet and hold his gaze. “No offense, old man, but what I feel for Scarlett is between me and her. And if I haven’t told her yet, I’m sure as hell not telling you.”

  Gunter’s entire expression changes when he smiles widely. “She deserves an exceptional man, Mr. Legend. I truly hope you can be him.”

  “I don’t know about exceptional, but I’m going to do whatever I can to keep her happy and safe.”

  Gunter nods slowly. “You’ll do, Gabriel. Yes. You’ll do very well.”

  Fifty-Seven

  Scarlett

  The clients I have on the third floor today are enough to give me a total headache.

  Two women left without buying a single thing, after each browsing for over an hour. Then Lucy Byers—heiress to a paper company, former prep school classmate, and queen bitch—shows up. Her first order of business is to scold me for keeping her waiting three weeks for an appointment.

  “You know, I almost didn’t even come. No one makes me wait for anything. It’s like you’ve forgotten who your people are, Scarlett.” She lets her words hang in the air, before adding for emphasis, “I guess that’s what happens when you start scraping the bottom of the barrel for men. But, tell me, is he really hung like a Clydesdale? Because I’ve heard rumors.”

  I stare at her in shock. “Excuse me?”

  She turns to her friend, whose name I’ve already forgotten, because she didn’t have an appointment, and smiles. “I told you she’d never admit to seeing him. Scarlett has always been too much of a good girl. Worried about her sterling reputation and all.”

  I have lines, and this bitch just crossed one. “You know what, Lucy? Get the hell out of my store.”

  Lucy’s jaw drops. “What?”

  “If you think you can come in here and talk like that to me, then you aren’t worth my time. As you’re aware, I have a long waiting list of people who’d love to be in here right now, and they wouldn’t resort to mean-girl tactics that should’ve stayed in high school just to feel better about themselves.”

  Her chin goes up, and it’s abundantly clear she’s had plenty of work done on her face since prep school. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m simply making conversation. Did I hit a nerve with my comment about your boyfriend? Or is he just your . . . entertainment? Because no one would judge you for needing a real man after Chadwick. He’s an epically terrible lay. The worst I’ve ever had.”

  Now it’s my mouth hanging open. “You slept with Chadwick?”

  Her brittle laugh could peel paint. “Only once. You’d only been dating a few months. My husband and I were having a rocky time getting through his affair, so of course I had to get payback. I should’ve chosen better, though. Too bad you didn’t hook up with Gabriel Legend sooner.”

  This fucking bitch. Bad Scarlett
whips her earrings off and is ready to fight, but I stay composed.

  “Get out of my store. I won’t tell you again before I call security to have you escorted out. I saw some paps out there earlier. I’m sure they’d eat it up. I may even give them a quote.”

  She looks around the room, decorated with treasures from all over the world. “Like I want any of your secondhand trash, anyway. Come on, Tiffany. This place is so cluttered, it gives me hives.” She struts toward the door with her friend trailing behind like an obedient puppy.

  I wait until she’s out of earshot before I whisper, “You hoity-toity fucking bitch.”

  Unfortunately, I must not whisper quietly enough, because Tiffany glares at me over her shoulder.

  I flip her the bird and sink onto the sofa. Amy finds me a few minutes later with my head cradled in my hands.

  “Um . . . Scar? Are you okay? Because Lucy Byers just said some really ugly things as she stomped out of the store.”

  I lift my head to look at her. “She won’t be making another appointment, and if she tries, refuse.”

  “What happened?” Amy asks.

  “She just wanted to run her mouth, and I wasn’t in the mood for it.”

  Amy’s eyes widen, but she nods anyway. “Okay. No problem. Losing one client is no big deal.”

  “She didn’t come to buy, so I’d hardly call her a client. She just wanted dirt on me and Gabriel, and to let me know that my ex-boyfriend cheated on me with her, while we were together.”

  “She did not.” Amy’s hands ball into fists on her hips as she whips her head toward the door, like she’s contemplating going after Lucy.

  “She did, but I don’t even care anymore. She and Tiffany can go buy secondhand trash somewhere else.”

  Slowly, Amy turns back to me, but the militant expression on her face tells me plenty about her loyalty. She’d definitely shank Lucy for me. That’s enough to make me push Lucy Byers and her high-class cheating ass out of my head. At least, for now.