Showing off the Goods

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Showing off the Goods Page 13

by Weston Parker


  My entire body almost seized up with shock when she said it. She’s tired. She’s drunk. She probably doesn’t even realize what she’s just said.

  Reasoning with myself helped me breathe again, but my heart pounded like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest. It had been a long time since I’d had anyone use the L-word when referring to me, and even then, it had never been anywhere near as meaningful it had been when it had come from her.

  And now, hearing it again… Fuck.

  Meanwhile, Colette was blissfully unaware of the floodgates she’d just wrenched open in my heart and mind.

  “Andrew was always the kind of guy who wouldn’t let anything get in the way of his future,” she explained. “He wanted it all. The travel, the luxury, the glitz and the glamour. A child didn’t fit in with those plans at all. He wanted to be a hotshot lawyer with clients all over the globe, and when he found out I was pregnant, he kicked me to the curb because he didn’t want to deal with the extra ‘baggage.’”

  She lifted her hands to make air quotes, but her fingers wouldn’t quite work with her. Her head on my shoulder turned, and she blinked up at me. “The irony of it is that he got everything he wanted. That same ambition that attracted me to him in the first place got him a job at a multinational law firm. Last I heard, he’s on some island practicing some sort of tax law and helping people siphon money legally to buy land and lifestyles there.”

  All I could do was sigh. A part of me wanted to hunt the guy down and beat the shit out of him, while another just wanted to keep her talking. I’d missed so much of her life, and I really wanted to fill in all the blanks.

  But that would have to come with time. For now, I helped her settle down on her side, pulled the blanket over her, then knelt down beside her. “You and April didn’t deserve that, baby. Don’t ever for a second think that you did.”

  She smiled, closing her eyes and falling asleep without saying another word. I kissed her forehead before I left, looking at her for a minute before I got up, turned off the lights, and went to my room.

  I didn’t think I’d get much sleep after all that, but I must’ve been exhausted too because the minute my head hit my spare pillow, I was fast asleep, dreaming about the girl downstairs.

  Chapter 20

  COLETTE

  It felt like my eyes had been glued shut when I tried to open them. Something had woken me up, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  In fact, I was disoriented as all get out. The sun warming my back was coming from the wrong direction, my pillow didn’t smell like mine. It smelled like…

  Ah, fuck. I forced my eyes to open, and even though it hurt, it turned out I was right. I wasn’t home, in my own bed or in April’s. I was on Paxton’s sofa.

  The smell of coffee was what had woken me up, and I sat bolt upright when I realized the scent filling my nostrils really did belong to him. Something had cracked a little when I sat up, so I glanced down to see I’d left a puddle of drool on his pillow.

  God, kill me now. Please let this be a spare pillow he never uses.

  Taking stock of my body, I noticed that my head was pounding. I groaned softly, trying to make sense of what the heck I was doing here.

  What the hell happened last night? Why did I crash here? Where’s Paxton. Did we…?

  Fragmented memories started rolling in then. The bar, the cocktails, laughing, leaving, the fancy cab, the privacy shield.

  My mind ground to a screeching halt just about there when I remembered what we’d done behind that privacy shield. While I wasn’t clear on the details, I knew for sure that we’d kissed. Then we’d gotten to his apartment, and he’d asked me up, and—

  Fuck. Fucking. Fuck.

  The hot tub. Kissing. His fingers inside me, then his mouth on me, and finally, that final fucking frontier that drunken me had thought was such a good idea.

  Oh, no. No. No. No. No. No.

  Whatever blood had made its way back up from my naughty bits to my face drained right out of me, and I silently cursed my vagina for letting me get into this mess. Then again, it wasn’t only her fault. I’d decided to drink that much, with Paxton of all people, and then I’d decided to come up with him after he’d asked me if I wanted the night to continue.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t give all the blame to my lady part. She’d gone with the flow, and by the feel of things this morning, she’d loved it.

  But now, the real me had to do damage control. Frantically getting up from the sofa as fast as my suddenly eighty-year-old body would allow, I realized I had on a T-shirt and nothing else. Literally nothing.

  Not even panties.

  I vaguely remembered putting on a pair of sweatpants, though. As my head swung around to search for them, I heard a deep, masculine chuckle behind me.

  Paxton. Fuck.

  When I twisted around and looked up, my gaze landed smack bang on the man himself, standing in his kitchen in only a pair of boxers and grinning at me.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” he said, raising a mug of coffee to his lips and taking a drink of it before setting it down carefully. “There’s fresh coffee, and breakfast is almost ready. You still love scrambled eggs with chives and cheese?”

  I stared at him without blinking. What does he think this is? A romantic morning after?

  “No. No fucking way.” I had to get out of here. “Drunk Colette made several bad decisions last night that sober Colette regrets deeply.”

  There was a flash of disappointment in his eyes, a moment that the easygoing smile slid away. My head hurt too much to give much thought to anything, let alone what Paxton might or might not be feeling.

  When I looked again, he seemed completely normal again anyway. Must have been my eyes playing tricks on me.

  It felt like they were so swollen that it was entirely plausible to me that they might not be working properly. Gingerly stretching out my aching limbs, I shook my head before I started searching for my things.

  “I can’t stay for breakfast. Despite how I acted last night, I am still a mother, and I need to get to Brett’s.”

  He watched me scramble for my stuff with an air of amusement before he took pity on me. “You won’t find anything there. Your clothes are in the dryer, and your purse is in here.”

  “You washed my clothes for me?” I frowned, propping my hands on my hips as I started making my way toward him. “You really didn’t have to do that. This wasn’t a date, Paxton.”

  “So you keep reminding me,” he said cheerfully. If he felt anything as terrible as I did, there sure was no trace of it. “Even so, I knew we had to get going early, so I took the liberty of making sure you didn’t smell like a bar when we showed up. Have some coffee, eat something, then I’ll give you that ride to Brett’s, huh?”

  “I’ll get a cab.” I zeroed in on my purse lying on the counter, stumbling over to it to call a cab before looking around to find his dryer.

  My clothes were still warm when I pulled them out, and I made for the guest bathroom I had a vague memory of without letting him tempt me with his offer of coffee and food. The kitchen smelled delicious, and there were already two mugs steaming on the island and two plates ready to be filled.

  After splashing some water on my face, I brushed my teeth with the same toothbrush I had some recollection of using before bed and got changed. Once that was done, I folded his shirt, went out to find the sweatpants I’d worn, and folded them too before taking them over to his washer. I popped them in, checked my phone, saw the cab was nearly here, and flashed him a tight smile.

  “So, uh, thanks for everything. Good job last night.” I’d been referring to the work we’d gotten done on the wedding, but as soon as the words were out, my ears caught fire and my cheeks burned. “The, uh, the planning, and the contract. All that wedding stuff. Not the… uh. You know what? Fuck it. You know what I meant.”

  Since I was too chickenshit to look directly at him, I caught him chuckling silently into his coffee in my periphery. Wa
y to make things worse, genius.

  “You’re really going to bail on my offer to give you a ride?” he asked when I slung my purse over my shoulder.

  I nodded and gave him a wave as I made a beeline for his front door with him still calling after me. “Come on, Colette. It’s just a ride.”

  “I think I’ve accepted one too many rides from you as is. Have a good day. See you soon.” Beyond relieved when his door swung open at the twist of the doorknob, I thanked my lucky stars that I didn’t have to go back to ask him to unlock it for me.

  Once I was settled in the back of the cab, I did my best to make myself look presentable. I hadn’t really taken the time to look at my reflection in the mirror while I’d been in his bathroom, and when I caught sight of myself in the small compact I’d pulled out of my purse, I winced.

  Jesus. I look as awful as I feel. My hair was a matted, tangled mess from falling asleep on it wet after the hot tub, what remained of my makeup was smudged, and my eyes were puffy from the alcohol.

  Thankfully, there was a small brush and a package of wipes in my purse as well. Both of which were actually in there for cleaning April up, but they’d do.

  While I tried to make the best of the limited supplies I had, I cursed myself to hell and back for acting like I was nineteen again.

  No self-respecting adult wants to look or feel this way on the regular. My body protested every movement I made, every bump in the road, and every turn. I was pretty sure that if there had been anything in my stomach, I’d have been sick. At least that didn’t happen to put the cherry on what was already a shit-tastic morning. Thank heavens for small mercies.

  Physically, though, I knew I’d feel better in a few hours. It was nothing a little water, a ton of coffee, some vitamins, and nice shower wouldn’t help. Emotionally, on the other hand, I was wrecked.

  I slept with Paxton last night. Even thinking those words, it felt surreal that it had really happened. How in the damn world did we go from cocktails after work to doing it in his hot tub?

  There were three parts to the answer to that question, but I didn’t like any of them. Paxton + me + liquor = monumentally bad ideas.

  But what was done was done. There was nothing I could do to take it back, and even if I could, I didn’t know if I would. Which was perhaps more worrying than the event itself.

  As Brett’s house came into view, I shoved all those thoughts into a box in my head. A box I would no doubt be hesitant to open up again anytime soon.

  “I’ll be out in a minute. Please wait here,” I said to the driver, who nodded his assent and turned up his radio for the wait.

  The front door opened before I’d even reached it, and I got the side-eye from Brett when he noticed my clothing and from Tierra when she took one look at my face. Brett smirked as he gave me a deliberate once-over.

  “Looks like someone didn’t get to bed early after all,” he commented, his voice thick with barely suppressed laughter. “I haven’t seen you look this bad in years. What happened? Or rather, who happened?”

  “Definitely rather who happened,” Tierra said, curiosity burning in those blue eyes that were too much like Paxton’s for me to look into them for too long right now. “You hooked up for sure. Who was the lucky guy?”

  “Nobody,” I hissed when I saw April running up the hall behind them. If they had no idea it had been Paxton, I was keeping it that way.

  “Hey, baby.” I grinned and dropped to my haunches to pull her into a big hug. “Did you have fun last night?”

  “Not as much fun as you did,” Brett said under his breath, and I sent him a sharp glare. I really didn’t need April to pick up on that and start questioning me.

  “Where’s your car?” she asked when she got outside and her gaze landed on the waiting car. “Did we get a new one?”

  “No, honey. That man is going to drive us to it.” I straightened up and gave Tierra a hug. “Thanks again for having her last night.”

  “It was no problem.” She squeezed me close, whispering against my ear so April wouldn’t overhear her. “We’re having lunch soon, and I expect you to tell me everything, you saucy minx, you.”

  “Saucy minx?” I scoffed before pulling away.

  More like drunken floozie. But she didn’t need to know that.

  She laughed, and I turned to Brett, who now looked more concerned than amused. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I lied and waved my hand dismissively. “I just needed a little reminder about why it’s a bad idea to act like tomorrow will never come.”

  Tierra laughed. “There’s another three weeks of merriment left and then the actual wedding. Buck up, buttercup. You’re going to need it.”

  If only she’d had any idea of how right she was, maybe she wouldn’t have looked quite so excited about it. There weren’t many things I was certain of right now, but the one thing I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was that the next three weeks had just gotten a lot more interesting. And a hell of a lot more dangerous.

  You heard the girl, buttercup. It’s time to buck up. There’s no backing out now. I sighed and gave them a last nod each. “Thanks again, guys. I’ll speak to you soon, okay?”

  They exchanged a glance, but I took April’s hand and slung her backpack over my shoulder as I walked her down the drive to the cab. The last thing I needed this morning was more judgment, and I would be getting it in spades if they found out it had been Paxton last night.

  I was already dragging myself over the coals. I didn’t need them doing it too. Or worse, to get them as worried as I was about how Paxton and I were supposed to keep working together after that.

  We’d figure it out ourselves. Get through the next three weeks, and then I was never, ever seeing that man again.

  Chapter 21

  PAXTON

  The door slammed shut behind Colette, and I scratched the back of my head as I looked down at the huge breakfast spread in front of me. I had a whole pot full of the eggs I knew she used to love, toast, chopped fruit, and yogurt to get through all by my lonesome now.

  Why the hell did I go through so much effort trying to have a good morning with her? I should’ve known she’d want to get out of Dodge when she woke up and saw where she was.

  It had been real stupid of me to let myself get carried away. Not even all that deep down inside, I knew I’d not only let myself get carried away. I’d also let myself believe that one good—albeit drunken—night with her meant that she’d forgiven me for leaving all those years ago.

  Her reaction this morning told me everything I needed to know. While she’d let her guard down last night, it had only been because of the cocktails. I was the only one who’d thought it had changed things between us.

  After he left, I realized that I never really loved him. Not in the way that I loved you. I couldn’t get those words out of my head.

  It stung that she’d said it in the past tense, but a part of me had been wondering since I’d opened my eyes if it meant we’d be able to get back to that place. If he was the only serious boyfriend she’d had after me, and she still hadn’t loved him the way she’d loved me, surely that had to mean that there had to be some small corner of her heart that would always belong to me.

  Obviously, I’d been dead wrong. The only thing last night had meant to her was that she’d had a few too many drinks and had let loose a little. End of story.

  Only a couple of hours ago when I’d woken up, I’d been in a great mood. Despite the mild hangover I was suffering, I’d gotten up early, worked out in the home gym, had an ice-cold shower, and was still feeling that leftover euphoric glow from having been with her again when she’d woken up.

  It was all downhill from there. My mood crashed, and I ended up giving the food one last look before tossing it all in the trash. The kitchen was a mess, but I never had been a clean cook.

  Deciding to leave it all as it was, I picked up my phone from the counter and went to get dressed. If I hung around here doing nothing all day, I w
as going to drive myself crazy.

  I snorted at the fact that I’d specifically not put on clothes after my shower in the hopes of tempting her into a second round this morning. Delusional. Fucking delusional.

  I was lucky I didn’t have to work today because I’d undoubtedly have been a total nightmare to have had to work with. There weren’t many days I wasn’t booked up, but my agent had specifically left today free for me to have a look over some offers so we could do our forward planning.

  I’d thought—uncharacteristically naïvely so—that Colette and I could spend some time together today. Just this morning, I’d thought maybe we’d have breakfast followed by at least a quickie, and then we could pick up April together. I knew she’d probably have to work, but I’d hoped I’d be able to convince her to take the morning off.

  Since none of that was going to happen, I pulled on a pair of jogging shorts and a T-shirt. I’d look over the shit my agent had sent later. Tierra also wanted to meet me for coffee so I could choose a suit for the big day. Apparently, she’d found a few tailors she liked and wouldn’t hear of me wearing one of the suits I already had—even the bespoke ones supposedly weren’t good enough.

  For now, I just needed to get out of here. Working off some of my frustration was the only way I’d be able to convince myself to be productive later on.

  Just as I was picking up my earbuds, my phone rang. Still in that crappy fucking mood, I didn’t expect to smile soon, but when I saw who was calling, I couldn’t help it. A small smile broke through as I wondered if my day was about to take an unexpected turn for the better.

  “Oliver, my man. How are you?” I asked much more jovially than I felt.

  My old buddy from the military didn’t call often, but he did whenever he was in town, and we made a point of seeing each other.

  As soon as I heard his voice, the smile melted away from my face, and I stood completely still in the doorway to my bedroom. “I’m not great, Pax. Not great. I’ve got some bad news.”

 

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