Pure Wicked: A Wicked Lovers Novella (1001 Dark Nights) by Shayla Black

realized that he hadn’t clued her in, he’d have hell to pay. Besides, she couldn’t help him improve his image if she didn’t know how he might be impacting it. “I sort of…met a woman.”
    “Oh my—” she huffed. “Seriously? You think now is the time to get laid? How long before she sells you out to the tabloids? I can see the headlines now. McCall ‘grieves’ with skanky one-night stand .”
    “First of all, she’s not skanky and she’s not a simple lay. Her name is Bristol Reese. She bakes for a living. And she’s really damn sweet. Second, she has no idea who I am.”
    “Get real.” Candia was jaded on a good day, and this wasn’t a good one at all.
    “I’m totally serious. She was in the middle of a weird family situation and I helped her out. She didn’t recognize me. No one did. Look.” He took a quick selfie of his shorn hair and clean face, bare of all leather and jewelry. Then he sent it her way. Jesse studied the image. He looked like a normal Joe.
    A few moments later, he heard a ding. “Wow, that’s you? Holy shit, you clean up nice. Okay, I have to admit, I barely recognize you. Your face looks leaner, more chiseled with your hair buzzed. We should talk to Jackie about making this look permanent. It’s a surprisingly cool change.”
    Jesse didn’t want to talk about his stylist now. “It’s sure a shitload easier. So anyway, I’m in this small town in Arkansas. Lewisville. Barely a thousand people live here. I’m more likely to be given a sideways glance for being a newcomer than for being an international star. Relax.”
    She paused. “You know, maybe it’s not a terrible idea for you to hang low there for a few days. I mean, if this girl has no idea who you are and you really won’t see other people, that little pissant town may be the perfect place to hide.”
    Candia’s proclamation made Jesse smile. He didn’t have to give up Bristol yet. Reality would intrude soon enough, but he could enjoy her company a bit longer. He wished he could confide in her, tell her about his problems and his grief. She would listen well and give good advice, he’d bet.
    “Admit it. I did the right thing,” he ribbed Candia.
    “In theory. It’s early days. Just keep your new bug all snug in your love nest so she can’t squeal. We’ll talk soon.”
    Before he could even say good-bye, she hung up. With a shrug, Jesse pocketed his phone. In their world, time was money, and he didn’t pay her to shoot the shit. He’d rather have her figuring out how to assure the public that he hadn’t played any part in the girl’s death and that he was sorry as hell that she was gone.
    Jesse made his way back to the upstairs apartment. Not a noise disturbed the space. Shakespurr prowled closer, staring him down before he gave a disdainful meow and trotted off. But he didn’t hear a sound out of Bristol.
    When he crept down the hall, he found the bathroom door open, steam still clouding the mirror over the basin. A few steps more, and he stood in the door to her bedroom. She lay across the bed, dressed in a faded gray T-shirt about five sizes too big with some terrycloth turban thing wrapped around her hair. And she was fast asleep.
    A fond smile crawled across his face. After her shitty evening with her family, he’d kept her awake more often than not before she’d had to slip out to work. She’d still put in almost a twelve-hour day and confronted her ex head on. His girl had smarts, stamina, and spine.
    Well, she wasn’t his, like, forever. But his for another day.
    He’d love to wake Bristol and prove exactly how much he appreciated her, in every way he could show her. But right now, she needed sleep. If he intended to spend half the night inside her again—and he did—she’d need it. Along with some food. Then he’d have to figure out how to persuade her to let him stay for a while. He’d slip away for Ryan’s service and try to avoid the press. The rest of the time, he’d spend