Time with Mr. Silver: A Forced Proximity Steamy Romance (The Men Series #7)
Time with Mr. Silver: Chapter 7

I WRAP MY ARMS around myself, curling my torso in, trying to heat up. I don’t know how I lost everyone. One minute we were all leaving the club we ended up in together, the next I was in the taxi line minus anyone I recognized. I’ve been into town on nights out with Jasmin before, but I’ve never seen the taxi line that busy. People were stealing cabs off each other left, right, and center. It’s a miracle I even got one.

I stare up at the Silver Estate gate. They look even more imposing at night, lit up with the additional bathe of moonlight. I pull my phone out again.

Come on, Jasmin.

She texted me when I was in the cab, worrying over where I was and I told her I was safe, so she said she was making her way home, sharing a cab with Logan. They both live near the estate, so they should be home now too.

I check the time—three in the morning. I texted her over ten minutes ago now asking what the security code is for the gate. I’ve only ever come through it in a vehicle that’s got an automatic sensor in, so the keypad on the stone wall to my right is as good as useless.

I shiver. I can’t stay here all night. Maybe I can—? The top of the black metal gate is spiked. No. I don’t like the idea of being impaled, even if I could climb that high.

I shuffle over to the keypad. Damn you, Jasmin. Now I’ll have to wake up that confusing brother of yours.

My finger hovers over the call buzzer.

Dax disappeared tonight. Took that phone call and then stormed off. I saw him through the bar window, face like thunder, dark eyes almost black as he growled something into the phone. I wouldn’t want to trade places with whoever was on the other end of the line.

Jasmin said he had probably used it as a ruse to leave early. Apparently, he isn’t a big socializer anymore. She didn’t say it in so many words, but she said enough for me to know that if Dax made one wrong move—being drunk and disorderly, get into a heated argument, or a scuffle, the way I’ve seen so many people do on nights out after a few drinks—then he could be straight back in jail.

I guess they are less lenient if you are caught offending a second time. However, I don’t agree with her it was a ruse. I saw his face when he was on that call. He looked ready to murder someone.

“Damn it,” I mutter, jabbing the button and squeezing my eyes shut.

Ten seconds pass.

Maybe he’s not home yet.

“Rose?” His voice slices through the night air from the intercom. “What the hell are you doing out there?”

I pop my eyes open and look up. There’s a security camera trained right on me.

“The taxi dropped me off and left. And I don’t know the passcode. Can you please buzz me in?”

“Wait there,” he snaps.

Like I’ll go anywhere else.

I look over my shoulder to the dark, deserted country lane behind me. Ordinarily, I would love this if it were on screen in a movie. The moment before the stupid girl gets caught by the psychopath. But that’s from my sofa in my pajamas. Standing here now while strange English animals snuffle and squawk, hidden from sight, is not doing it for me.

I shuffle closer to the gate.

How long does it take to press a button?

I turn back to the gate and squint as headlights approach, casting me under a spotlight, as they stop inches from the other side of the gate.

It slowly slides to one side as the front door of the Range Rover flies open and Dax jumps out. He marches over, leaving the door wide open behind him. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a half zipped up hoodie.

He slams to a halt in front of me, his eyes scanning over me ruthlessly.

“What the hell, Rose? You’re fucking shaking.” He unzips his hoodie and peels it off, leaving his chest bare as he curses under his breath.

He loops his arms over my head and throws it around my shoulders, pulling the edges together over my breasts. His eyes simmer with anger as they meet mine. But I recognize something else there too. Concern.

I’ve spent years having my family and other people around me back home look at me with concern in their eyes. But not like this. Theirs was always tinged with sadness and hopelessness at how much they think I have changed since Brett’s accident and losing Dad. I always felt some eyes—of the interfering neighbors—held blame in them, too. Much like mine when I look into a mirror.

But Dax? The concern in his eyes burning right through me right now isn’t because he’s remembering who I was once. He’s thinking about who I am now. Standing here in this moment. Not the me I was before Brett was knocked down and hurt while out looking for me. Not the me I was before the stress of it all brought on my Dad’s heart attack that killed him.

Just me. Here. Now. Alone and cold.

And it makes something inside me unfurl like a forgotten leaf, so far into spring that the other trees are all in full bloom and hope had all but gone.

I glance at his naked chest, covered in tattoos. They glow in the headlights like magical inscriptions carved into honeyed marble.

“It’s nothing. I just got a little cold,” I say to his pecs.

“What am I going to fucking do with you?” he growls, his voice softening.

I look up into his eyes and he is staring at me. The light catches his hair, highlighting the golden strands that are all mussed up and falling forward.

“You shouldn’t be out alone at night. It’s not safe.” His eyes roam over my face and then body like he’s checking I’m okay.

“Did I wake you? Were you in bed?”

He looks at my mouth and then back to my eyes and licks his lips. “Yeah.”

“Alone?” I blurt, frowning the second it leaves my lips.

A grimace takes over his lips.

“You could have buzzed me in. You didn’t have to get out of bed.”

And leave whoever was there with you.

The idea that I interrupted Dax’s night has my stomach churning with humiliation. Is she watching us on the camera now? Will he go back and tell her what the stupid new girl did? Will they laugh about me being so stupid and getting locked out?

He moves to the passenger door and opens it. “Get in the car. I’ll drop you back.”

“You don’t need to do that, I can walk.”

He sucks in a breath. “Rose…”

“It’s only over there.” I point to the tree line, all draped in pitch black.

“Get in the fucking car!”

My skin prickles as I walk to the open door. I dip past his naked chest and slide into the seat as he drags in a heavy breath.

He slams the door behind me and stalks around the hood, all the muscles in his upper body moving in perfect harmony with one another.

He throws himself into the driver’s seat, his presence taking over the car.

Tension seeps into every space as he sits.

Just sits.

He doesn’t drive away. He wraps his hands around the steering wheel, taking deep breaths, his eyes focused on the gate outside the windshield.

After an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice a rough whisper.

“I’ve seen what men are capable of, Rose. I’ve heard them talk.” His eyes squeeze into slits as he keeps facing straight ahead. “Promise me you won’t be out alone at night again?”

My heart beats steady and strong, centering me as I stare at him.

“Promise. Me. Please.”

His voice loses all power as he looks at me. Waiting.

And for the first time, there is a vulnerability in Dax Silver that I’ve never noticed before.

And for all its raw beauty, it’s fascinating.

Beside me is a man with hidden depths so dark I can never hope to understand them. Every curve of ink on his skin tells a story. A story about a man who loves his sister fiercely. A workaholic who has fought to keep a business afloat when people turned their backs on him. A man who has spent time away… locked behind bars… caged.

Who are you really, Dax Silver?

“Okay.” I whisper. “I promise you.”

“I think you’ll love it. I’ve heard it’s not gruesome, but it’s jumpy. You’ll totally shit your pants.” Casey laughs as I prop my phone up on the sofa and grab the remote.

Her green face fills the screen. It’s face mask and movie night. Something we used to always do when I was at home. Although, it’s face mask and movie afternoon for her with the time difference.

I grab my bowl of popcorn and pull my legs up underneath me as I get cozy. The estate cottage has a comfy sofa. It’s a corner one covered in cushions and a big old fleecy throw blanket. Jasmin said they usually rent the cottage out for short-term holiday rentals, but when Dax gave me the temporary job, he said I should use it. Maybe he thought I would feel like a fish out of water being so far away from home by myself. Whatever his reasons, I’m glad. I’m getting used to the weird nighttime noises and having my own space. I mean, I love Mom, but how many twenty-five-year-olds still live at home? After Brett’s accident, I wanted to be there with him. Before I realized, it had become too hard to leave. Even though now I’m thinking leaving was the best thing I did. For me. For everyone.

I flick the TV on.

“I’ve missed this.” I smile at Casey’s face on the screen.

She wraps her own blanket tighter around herself. “Me too.”

This is good. It’s not the same as her being here, but it’s still so good to see her face and hear her voice. She’s been filling me in on the new guy she’s started dating. She’s been single for years. Up until now, she’s been adamant she doesn’t want to be in a relationship, being on the verge of tears if anyone ever pushed the subject. She never explained why, besides saying who needs a man when you have friends. And I didn’t push it any further because it made her so upset. Maybe me moving away has given her the time to finally date—we were almost inseparable. Whatever the reason is, I’m happy for her.

“Oh, what?” I groan as the TV screen freezes and then goes blank. I flick it back on again and the same thing happens, leaving me staring at a black screen. “Hold on,” I say to Casey, getting up and checking the plugs. I switch them off, then on again, but the stupid thing does the same again.

“You aren’t on some middle-of-nowhere meter there, are you? One you have to put coins in or crank up?” Casey laughs.

“No.” I sigh, flopping down onto the sofa.

“Can Jasmin help? Maybe it’s happened before.”

I grab my phone. “I’ll text her and ask.”

Me: Hey. The TV in the cottage keeps shutting off. Do you know if it’s done it before?

Jasmin: Strange… it’s usually fine. Don’t worry, I’ll sort it.

Me: Don’t come all this way for that. It doesn’t matter.

There’s a delay before her reply comes in.

Jasmin: Not me, I’m at the hairdresser’s. And I’ve already messaged him. He’s on his way.

Me: Logan?

Jasmin: Dax.

Shit.

“Case? I’m going to have to go.” I jump up off the sofa and take the stairs two at a time up to the bathroom. “I’ll call you back if it’s working again soon, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She smiles. “I just miss you, that’s all. Speak to you later.”

“Yeah, later.” I smile back. “Case?”

“Yeah?”

“Sandbox to casket.”

She grins. “Sandbox to casket. Love you.”

I end the call and bend over the sink, scrubbing off the bright green clay mask. Thank God I’m in loungewear and not my actual pajamas. Harley has a thing for ugly pajamas she thinks are cute and bought me a short set with cartoon singing waffles all over them to bring with me. I’ve never been so grateful for a cropped hoodie and leggings before. Not that I’m bothered what Dax thinks. But he is my boss, and well… singing waffles.

There’s a knock at the door. I grab a towel and scrub my face dry, tossing it onto the side of the sink so I can go answer it.

How does he get everywhere so fast?

I open the door, and there he is. Black shirt open at the neck, blond waves pushed back off his face, and deep brown eyes that connect with mine instantly.

He fills the doorway, the scent of his aftershave floating into the cottage and making me inhale a little slower. A little deeper.

He smells heady, and dark, and… expensive. The way he smells at work. It’s different to how he smelled last night when he dropped me back in the dark. Last night, he smelled warm. Of warm skin that had gotten out of bed. It was his smell. His own scent.

“You going to let me come inside?”

“It’s not a problem. I don’t want to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing.” I look at his suit again and the way the black open collar makes his neck tattoo look even more incredible. The leaves, the bird’s feathered wings. So intricate. So beautiful.

“What I’m doing right now is waiting for you to invite me in, Rose.” His eyes stay fixed on mine. “Do you want my help or not?”

So we’re back to moody, sarcastic Dax again? I would love to throw a comeback at him. But I want his help. I need to call Casey back and laugh as we scare ourselves stupid watching a horror movie together. I want to not think about anything else for a blissful ninety-five minutes.

I open the door wider, and he raises a brow at me.

“Yes.” I hold his gaze. “I want it.”