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Brave Enough(37)

By:M. Leighton


“Oh, so that’s what it takes to convince you,” Tag complains, flopping down on top of me. “It wasn’t enough that you get to spend the day with me.” He bends his head to capture a nipple, worrying it with his lips and tongue until it comes to a tingling, begging peak.

“It’s not that at all,” I tell him in an already breathy voice. “It just took a pretty tempting offer to get me to leave this bed today.”

He lifts his head and pins me with his gleaming gray eyes. They’re so pale they seem almost backlit in the olive expanse of his face. “Well, when you put it like that, I don’t want to go now. I didn’t realize staying in bed all day was an option.”

I can feel the pressure of his growing erection against the inside of my thigh. “I think that should always be an option,” I respond, my heart melting as quickly as my bones beneath the passionate intensity of his gaze.

“Mmmm, the perfect woman,” he says, trailing his hand down my belly to my simmering center. “Just perfect.”

My last thought is that I guess Enchantment can wait for another hour or so.



I might be sheltered and well bred, but I doubt there’s a woman with a pulse who doesn’t know who Kiefer Rogan is. MMA champ, Hollywood up-and-comer, playboy charmer—his face has littered dozens of magazines and gossip sheets since he started dating vacuous starlets. I had no idea that Tag’s Rogan was that Rogan until we pulled up in front of a gorgeous, contemporary home in the gated hills of Enchantment’s “little Hollywood” subdivision. I was immediately uncomfortable and wished that I’d opted for staying in bed after all. But it was too late to back out, so I let Tag drag me up the geometric walk to a tall front door.

The beautiful woman who answered Tag’s knock, however, was not at all what I was expecting. I took to Katie instantly. I doubt I’ve ever met a more down-to-earth, relatable person than Katie. While she’s extremely pretty with her rich auburn hair and her twinkling blue eyes, she also has some scarring down the side of her neck. While it doesn’t detract from her in the least, I admire the fact that, in the world of glamorous perfection in which Rogan obviously lives, she is comfortable with who she is, flaws and all. I’m sure it helps that Rogan adores her. It was obvious from the moment he trotted up behind her at the door, kissing her scarred neck and smiling happily at us from over her petite head that he thinks she hung the moon.

“Tag, good to see you, man,” Rogan said, pulling him in for a bear hug.

After the two men released each other, Tag then leaned in to kiss Katie on the cheek. “He still hasn’t managed to run you off, I see.”

Katie smiled and twisted to look up at Rogan over her shoulder. “He’s never getting rid of me.”

“Not if I have to chain you to my bed,” he’d answered. His expression had taken on a wicked look. “Wait, on second thought, try to leave. I wouldn’t mind chaining you to the bed for a few days.”

Katie had playfully ribbed him in the stomach. It was plain to see that they’re incredibly well suited and happy together. My heart stung with envy from that point on.

Now, however, as I get to know them both over imported beer and homemade pizza (made in a brick oven built into the outdoor fireplace by the pool), I find that I’m thrilled for them. Just thrilled, even if I’m never able to have something so wonderful in my life.

“How did you two meet?” I ask from my place beside Tag on a two-person wicker loveseat. It’s situated in a grouping on the patio by the pool. With all the lush greenery surrounding us, this space has the feel of a tropical paradise. It’s much different than the pools we’ve had all my life. They were always rectangular and formal, bordered by rows of columnar cypress trees, like sentries standing guard over my life. But this, this is informal and natural and relaxed. It’s everything a pool should be, everything a pool should feel. I know it’s weird to get hung up on a pool, for goodness sake, but it seems to parallel the way I feel about the life I’ve always had versus the life I’ve always wanted.

“She was my makeup artist at the studio while I was filming my short part on Wicked Games. It was love at first sight. At least for me. She was a harder sell.”

Katie starts shaking her head. “Don’t believe that. I could hardly speak the first time I saw him. I was a mess.”

“If she’d had a grain of damn sense, she’d have noticed me groveling at her feet, but she’s as hardheaded as they come.”

“I had reason to be a little skeptical. I mean, what would a gorgeous guy like you want with a scarred girl like me?”