Falling for the Beast (A Modern Fairy Tale Duet 2)

There was a pause where she imagined him shaking his head. “Give us a minute, Mother. Or sixty of them.”

The door closed again, and Erin remained hidden under the sheet. She knew her cheeks would be bright red. God, talk about embarrassing. That wasn’t even the kind of story she could tell people about as a joke.

Footfalls crossed the floor followed by a small sound, and she knew Blake was locking the door. The bed dipped as he sat beside her.

Finally he tugged at the sheet.

After a moment, she reluctantly peeked over the edge.

“I’m sorry. I should have locked it last night.”

“Your mom…” She trailed off, unsure of where to go with that. Obviously there were issues here. And while she wasn’t a big fan of his mother, and it didn’t seem like he was either, she didn’t want to offend him by saying the wrong thing.

“She’s always been a little…invasive.

I’m just sorry I didn’t protect you better from it. I’m used to it, I’m just pissed she did it to you.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault.” And he had protected her. Now she understood why he hadn’t brought her. It wasn’t embarrassment of her like she’d feared. If anything he seemed embarrassed for her to see where he came from.

A rush of tenderness made her lower the sheet and take his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Really. We’ll just get through today and leave tomorrow.”

He shook his head ruefully, looking down at his naked body. “At least now she can’t complain about not seeing enough of me.”

And when Erin laughed, she knew they would be okay.

Whatever happened, they had each other.

Blake

Blake leaned back. The antique chair whimpered under his weight, clearly ready to retire after probably seventy years of service. Everything in this house was old, from the walls themselves to the Ming vases against the wall. He remembered not sitting on this chair as a child. He remembered not touching those vases, not drawing on these walls. He’d almost grown up in a museum, learning from a young age not to touch, to move, to speak above a whisper.

Enlisting had been half about rebellion, half about finding his place in the world out of his father’s shadow. And it had blown his ideas about everything apart. Soldiers constantly moved and fought and shouted. It was the exact opposite of everything he’d known before.

He’d left the army a broken man, and the worst part, the sickest part, had been the look of veiled triumph in his parents’ eyes. That he’d set out to do something for himself, something different from what they’d wanted him to be, and he’d failed.

Rebuilding himself had been a slow painful process. Painful, because the burn scars would be there forever, always restricting his movement and sending sharp pain into his skin. Slow, because he’d fought with himself the whole way. Only when he’d met Erin, when he’d fallen in love with her, when he’d needed to be good enough for her, had he been able to step out of his own way.

The pain would never go away, not completely. And it would be a long road for him.

But he had the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen at his side, a woman so smart and kind and good that he no longer cared if he was deserving. He would keep her, and in that way, she would become the best part of him.

Erin sat across the room from him playing chess with his father.

And winning, judging by the surprised look on his father’s face. He wasn’t bested often, at least partly because people were intimidated by him. Erin was intimidated, Blake knew, but that only drove her harder. His chest grew tight, a mixture of pride and love—and undeniable lust. It turned him on when she kicked ass.

“Check,” she said.

Curious, he stood and crossed the room. “She has your king on the run,” he commented idly.

Of course his father would know that. “Indeed. Did you teach her that?”

“That particular trick she already knew.” He studied the board while his father moved in defense. Erin moved quickly after that, on the offense, using her bishops in tandem to sweep his father’s pieces across the board. “She has a way of winning a man over.”

A small smile crossed Erin’s face. “Man or woman, I play to win. Check.”

His father studied her with new and cautious respect after his king moved back again. “You know most young people would have humility. They’d say it was probably just luck to have bested me.”

“It’s not luck.” She reached over to place her knight. “So why lie? Checkmate.”