The Honeymoon Trap

by Christina Hovland

  “Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Okay, clearly you don’t get it,” she said, deflated.

  Nope. He was pretty certain he didn’t. He shook his head.

  “That night, when we found Mitzy? I thought these would remind you of me.”

  He stared at her, his beautiful Lucy. A woman who bought him cat cufflinks for his birthday because they were sentimental. His heart thudded against his chest. A whole lot of feelings were floating around inside him. Things he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

  “Forget it. I thought they were fun. I’ll get you something else.” She reached for the box, but he grabbed her hand, tangling his fingers with hers.

  “They’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He kissed each fingertip on her hand, loving how her mouth fell open and her breath hitched.

  “You don’t have to wear them. They’re silly. I just tho—”

  He held a thumb to her lips. “They’re you. Totally you, Princess. I love them.”

  “We should get ready to go,” she finally said, breaking whatever spell he’d been under. “Reservations and all that.”

  “After I get dressed and put on my brand new cat-inspired cufflinks. Then we can go.” He winked at her. “Do they light up or anything? Because if they did, that would be amazing.”

  “I’m never buying you anything again.” She sat up in a huff, grabbing the top sheet to her breasts, but he snagged her around her waist and pulled her back to him. She fell against him with a small oof.

  “Every year for my birthday, I’m expecting something as perfect as these. Cat cufflinks are going to be hard to beat, though.”

  Her expression went distant. Shut down.

  Shit. No talk of the future. He knew better. Understood she wasn’t ready.

  Instead of saying anything else, he kissed her intently. The best birthday present he’d ever received. He rose and yanked on a pair of boxers. If he didn’t get out of the bed now, they’d never make it out the front door.

  The air conditioner unit attached to the window sputtered to a stop. He glared at it. Lucy deserved better than an apartment seemingly held together by masking tape. He walked to the air conditioner and gave the top a good smack. The unit coughed to life again.

  “I’m talking to Dixie and Jeff about your apartment. The dial on your stove is loose and the locks on the door wouldn’t keep out a chipmunk.”

  Lucy hadn’t budged from her spot in the middle of the mattress. “Now you’re Mr. Fix-It? While you’re at it, can you ask them to fix the boinger thingy on the bathroom door. It’s not boinging quite like it should. Don’t you think?” She quirked her head to the side.

  “Boinger thingy. I’ll add that to my list.”

  “And the towel rod falls down in the bathroom. Total safety hazard.” She hopped from the bed, holding the sheet in front of herself and hurried to the living room. “Oh my gosh, we almost missed it. I have another present for you. Wait until you see the story I did for your station, birthday boy. Super objective and, if I do say so myself, exceptionally well done.”

  She waggled her eyebrows dramatically.

  He chuckled. “Goof. What story did you end up going with?”

  He followed her to the living room. She hadn’t said a word about her story since he’d told her to give the other one to Anderson.

  She pulled the knob on the old tube television and plopped down on the couch.

  “I did the bullying story, like I planned.” The evening news promo began to play, the graphics announcing the evening news team. “You wouldn’t believe what I found out. The task force assigned last year only met once. Once. Can you even believe that?”

  He stilled. She’d totally disregarded his direction. And by doing so threatened the integrity of his station. By extension, his integrity.

  “Luce, you said you’d give that story to Anderson.” The blood in his head thrummed a rhythmic beat.

  “No, I never said that. I told you I could be objective, and I can. Was. Am. Whatever.” She waved a hand and went back to watching the show.

  He pressed his lips together and gestured to the monitor. “I was clear about assigning the story.”

  She glanced away from the screen to him, her forehead crinkled. “Will, you’re the one who pointed out you’re not my boss. You can’t micromanage my job. I’m the assignment editor, I assigned the story.”

  “To yourself.” His frustration vibrated in the air around them.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re arguing on a technicality?” He went silent, that ticking-time-bomb pulse in his forehead rapidly leading toward detonation.

  She didn’t respond.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you were any other staff, pulling a stunt like this, you’d be fired for not following directions from corporate.”

  She drew a harsh breath. “You haven’t even seen the story. Do you not trust me to do a good job?”

  They stared at each other a beat. Neither backing down.

  “You’re not corporate. Not yet, anyway.” She glanced away, the distance between them growing by the second.

  “How can I trust you, Luce? You disregarded everything I said.” His words were raw with intensity.

  Any other time the hurt on her face would’ve made him backtrack. She’d blatantly gone against his wishes, what was he supposed to say?

  “You did whatever you wanted anyway.” Defeat was a bitter friend of his.

  “As you pointed out many times, you’re not my boss yet. Once you are, we agreed not to continue…us.” She pressed her palm against his bare chest, branding him.

  He flinched. What they had meant nothing? He’d been sure once he showed her how good they’d be together she’d change her mind.

  “I’m losing you before we ever even got a real chance, aren’t I?” He grabbed the hand she’d placed on his chest and squeezed.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Keeping work at work is a good idea. Let’s talk about this when we both have pants on. Stick to your producer and editor duties. We’ll work this out.” Once he figured out what the hell he was doing as a manager of Crestone.

  “You can’t pull me from reporting.” Her beat-down puppy expression nearly did him in. Nearly.

  “Just until we can talk in the office. What we have isn’t just going to go away. We’ll sort out a solution for the work stuff, but we’ll do it at the office.” His gaze trailed over her.

  Somehow they’d figure out how to keep work separate. They could do it and they could be together. He’d use every morsel of time they had together to prove it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You ready for the big day?” Lucy came to the kitchen to find Will absorbed in a pile of files, his forehead creased in concentration. The sun wasn’t even up yet.

  He frowned and slid his thumb across the screen of his phone. “I am.”

  Today, well, today was back to work. Back to reality. Officially their last day together.

  She swallowed the massive lump in her throat.

  Her fingers itched to smooth the lines along his forehead. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

  Around one that morning he’d left the bed and hadn’t returned.

  “No. Too much on my mind.” He had made a pot of coffee sometime in the night. She melted into a puddle of caffeinated gratitude.

  She glanced longingly at a slice of chocolate birthday cake for breakfast, but poured herself some coffee instead. “Things all ready for the press conference?”

  Today’s public announcement of him as the new owner of Crestone was, in his words, a big deal. Executives from the dozens of stations he now owned would attend along with the regional press.

  She leaned a hip against the table.

  His scowl deepened. “Yeah.”

  “Everything okay?” She tapped his shin with her toe. “You’re kind of lost over there.”

  “Another problem with Colorado Springs. Think I’ll need to leave ton
ight for a day or so. How do you feel about a trip over the mountain?” He glanced up. His concerned expression thawed when he caught her gaze.

  No, a clean break. That’s what this had to be.

  “I have to work tomorrow.” Besides, she had already found a replacement for her morning show today, so she could help out at the press conference. Two days would be pushing it.

  He tugged her to his lap, a small intimacy she appreciated.

  She traced her fingers along the curve of his cheek and stopped at the dimple.

  Anticipation flashed in his eyes when she leaned her mouth to his. Hey, she could enjoy what they had for the moment. That was within her rights as his temporary girlfriend.

  “You taste well-caffeinated.” He jerked at the tie on her robe and ran a hand along her waist. She smiled against his lips as he trailed his fingertips up under her Keep Calm and Rub Some Bacon on It T-shirt.

  “You’re trying to distract me so I’ll agree to come on your trip, aren’t you?” She adjusted her position on his thighs.

  “I happen to know your boss won’t mind if you take the day off.” He winked and ran his hand around her back to bring her closer.

  His declaration tossed a bucket of ice water on her desire.

  “I can’t.” She scooted away from him. “It’s also inappropriate for us to discuss work when your hand is up my shirt.”

  He chuckled. “This is the best time to discuss anything. Your temperament is so much sweeter when my hands are on you.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. Still, this was important. He got the message because he slipped his hand away.

  He tucked a hunk of hair behind her ear. “Now who’s the one that isn’t fun?”

  “I’ve got to stay here tomorrow, do my job. All that.” She stood.

  He waited a beat. “I don’t want to be so far away from you.”

  They would both have to get used to it.

  Will tapped out a message on his phone. “I’m also visiting our friend Max so he’ll understand I don’t need those little blue pills he gave me. Not looking forward to that one.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “My attorney’s idea. I’m seeing him at his office as a patient. I’ll explain why we were really at Twin Lakes. If that doesn’t work, at least I’ll officially be on record as a patient. Then he can’t legally say anything about my health. One quick, uncomfortable visit, and that’s done.”

  Hell. What would a visit like that entail?

  “I’m so sorry. I totally screwed up with that whole mess.”

  He tossed his phone on the table and stood, stretching his arms over his head. “It’s working out. Don’t be sorry anymore.”

  “I can totally vouch there are no problems in that department.” Her cheeks heated.

  He kissed her forehead. A tug at her heart ached. She was going to miss the kisses, the touches…

  He moved to the sink to rinse his plate. “What’s this?” He raised a thick manila envelope of pictures they hadn’t gone through yet from the counter.

  “The last of the stuff from your boxes.”

  “Huh.” He ripped open the envelope and flipped through them.

  Her mug barely made it to her lips when he stilled, peering closer at one of the photos. He stared at a photo in his hand, not looking up.

  “What’s wrong, Will?” She set her cup back on the table.

  He raised his gaze to her, squinted, and then glanced to the photo again. “This is impossible.” His eyebrows pinched when he frowned.

  “What?” she asked.

  He didn’t respond, only ran a hand over his neck.

  “Will, what’s not possible?” she tried again.

  He glanced at her, then back to the photo.

  “You’re starting to scare me.” The rubber-covered feet of her chair squeaked against the linoleum as she scooted away from the table.

  The vein in his forehead started to throb.

  “Wi—”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  His emphasis on the words stopped her short. What was he so pissed about?

  “Wi—”

  “Is there something you should’ve told me, Lucy?” He dropped the stack of photos on the table beside her plate and pointed to the one on top—a cast and crew photo from the reality show in Florida.

  Hurt played across his face, the tic in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth.

  Oh God.

  “W-what’re you talking about?” She rushed to her feet, bumping her toe on the leg of the table.

  “That’s you. On the left.” His eyes flamed with determination.

  It was. He knew.

  The years melted away and it was as though nothing had changed. She was still the uncomfortable girl in the photo.

  “All the games of Confessions, all the times we talked, you never said a word,” he accused.

  She reached for the image, and everything inside her crumbled to pieces.

  The photo from that summer burned her fingertips. The picture had been taken a few days before he left, a week or so before they wrapped filming. He was handsome and fun-loving with his arm around a blonde. Jealousy pooled inside Lucy as it had all those years ago. The girl was flashing him a knowing smile, and he had his head thrown back, laughing.

  Lucy stood alone on the other side of the image. Unwanted. Invisible.

  “Will… I…”

  “You’re the caterpillar,” he said in disbelief.

  Caterpillar? The word pierced straight through her heart, and the little bits of herself she’d held together over the years crushed the breath from her lungs.

  Will had never used that awful nickname before—not once—even when it had followed her that summer to Florida. Not that he’d talked to her much. She was staff. He was talent. They didn’t mix.

  She’d been ridiculous enough to keep a diary, and she’d written about the name. Her roommate in Florida had been another bully in her life and shared that tidbit with the rest of the crew. The stupid nickname had been a part of who she was until she met Katie. Lucy burned the diary and built a new life. But all the years she had spent knitting together her self-confidence were obliterated there in the tiny kitchen in the Camelot apartments.

  “I can’t believe you lied to me.” His tone was careful, controlled.

  She raised a hand to her mouth. They stood there, staring, saying nothing, her heart breaking. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, leaving her alone with the photo.

  Caterpillar.

  Her eyes fixed on the disastrous picture that spelled the end of who they’d become together. She swallowed the fear rising in her throat as anxiety she hadn’t experienced in weeks wrapped around her.

  Her heart plunged to her knees. She couldn’t move through the numbness.

  This was how it would end.

  The tight vise around her insides gripped harder. Tears prickled the edges of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. After everything they’d been through, he’d walked away. She couldn’t wrap her head around his reasons. He was the one who hadn’t recognized her.

  Lucy pressed her fingers against her eyelids as the shock drained away, leaving only pain.

  She walked calmly toward where he was in the bedroom, the slow movement at odds with the raging emotion inside. He leaned against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, his gaze on his socks, in a posture of intense reflection.

  “I’m not a caterpillar.”

  At her monotone words, he glanced up. She studied him for a moment, unable to find any trace of warmth. Once more, reality had invaded her cocoon of happiness.

  Of course he wouldn’t want her anymore. No one ever wanted a stupid, fat caterpillar. Now that he remembered, he would never look at her the same.

  “Don’t ever call me that again.” She tore the image in half and threw it on the floor at his feet.

  The pain reflected in his eyes matched her own.

  “You wanted this.”
She pointed to herself. “You only wanted the improved version. Not the overweight girl I used to be.”

  The anger coming from him began to fall away. “Luc—”

  She waved a hand in front of him. “Oh no. You don’t get to ‘Luce’ your way out of this. I guess you’re right about people. Change your appearance, and they only see what they want to see. You didn’t want to see that.” She shoved a finger toward the ripped photo at his feet. “So you didn’t.”

  “Lu—”

  “And it stung. But I realized we were both people we didn’t want to be back then, so we should just move forward.”

  He rested his hands against his hips. “I never pretended to be something I’m not.”

  A film of sweat formed under her arms, and her heart raced. He could not be for real. This, now, was who she had become.

  “No? You sure about that? You’ve done the exact same thing. Pretending to be a consumer reporter at KDVX when you’re about to be everyone’s boss.” She kept going, the words flowing with the anger. “Looks like in eight years neither of us has really changed.”

  He sucked in a breath. “That’s pretty low.”

  “You’ve got places to be. Places that aren’t here.” She tried to slip past him.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking the small hallway. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Why, Luce?” he practically growled the words.

  “You should go.”

  He moved toward her. “Lucy, why?”

  They’d finish this now—then he would go. She took a breath. “I didn’t want you to remember because I didn’t want my past to follow me here.” The word caterpillar echoed through her brain, taunting her. “Then, when we got close and you didn’t remember, it stung. I knew if you remembered, you’d only see that girl when you look at me.”

  And that’s exactly what happened.

  He reached for her.

  She shook her head, stepping back again. “We’re done here.”

  His lips pinched into a thin line. “Not like this. We’re not ending things like this.”

  She leveled what she hoped was a lethal stare at him. “It’s time.”

  He cursed and glanced away.