Mr. Misunderstood

by Sara Jane Stone

  His grin fades. “She called you immediately afterward didn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He’s still wearing the spent condom. His hand moves to his crotch as if he’s also realized this. He slips it off and tosses it aside. “I was in my office.”

  “You thought someone would overhear?” My stomach drops a bit. That’s not exactly the answer I was hoping to hear.

  “No, I didn’t want her to be mad at me.” He rolls to his side again and looks at me. “I realized that if I told your mom I’d dragged you into this awful mess because I was too afraid to tell the truth, she would get pissed. She’s protective of you.”

  “Oh.” I can’t think of anything else to say. He broke the rule so my mother wouldn’t scold him. It had nothing to do with true love or the possibility that we don’t need to pretend anymore.

  I reach for the edge of the comforter hanging off the side of the bed and pull it over me.

  “Cold?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I lie.

  I can’t tell him the truth. Making love to him meant something to me. The sex wasn’t just sex anymore. It was an expression of love.

  And now I need to walk away from the man I love because I can’t stay and be a prop in his crazy plan. It will take more of myself than I am willing to give.

  “Kayla, we’ll tell her the truth when this is all over.” His dark eyes stare into mine, begging me to believe him.

  “When will it end?” I ask softly. “When Margaret discovers Alexandra’s identity? When the story fades away? When the media calls her a liar?”

  “That would be a start,” Gavin says with a grin.

  I nod. I have a bad feeling that won’t be the end because Gavin will still be hiding.

  “I love you even though I know everything about you.” I hug the blanket tighter. I already feel as if I’ve opened myself up to heartbreak. I need something protecting me while I serve up my feelings on a freaking platter.

  “I know. But you also want to build bedrooms for shelter dogs.” His tone suggests that he thinks I’m crazy.

  And maybe I am. I walked into this fake relationship, knowing I could fall for him. I held out hope that maybe he might change. That the blackmail fiasco would make Gavin realize he’s worthy of love. He always has been, even when he was a kid.

  “I loved Terrance too,” I say softly.

  His smile fades and he rolls onto his back. For a second I expect him to reach for the blanket on his side of the massive bed and cover himself.

  “Not in a let’s get naked sort of way,” I add just in case that’s the part that’s scaring him. I know it’s not, but I want to be clear.

  “You might be the only one.”

  “Because you never gave anyone else the chance.”

  “That’s not true. I tried so fucking hard to please the Masters. I did what the damn bullies told me to do at school.” He speaks through clenched teeth. “I wanted them all to love me. And if I tell everyone the truth now, you know what I’ll get in return? Pity. And I don’t want it.”

  “Or respect for your willingness to share your story,” I challenge.

  “Yeah, I doubt that.” He rolls off the bed and begins pulling on his clothes. “I’ll take the dogs out. When I get back, we can go over your lists. I want to be ready for the contractors. We should get them started on the exterior work before winter.”

  “Okay.” I draw out the word, caught off guard by the abrupt change. It feels as if he slammed a door in my face. But I can’t force him to talk about his past. Just like I can’t make him change the way he sees himself.

  I can control whether I let him walk away with my heart. And I can still enforce rule number six—we decide when we end this charade. Of course first we need to deal with his blackmailing ex.

  Maybe I know who she is …

  The idea floats in as if it has always been there. I know Gavin’s past better than anyone. If I did a little digging of my own, instead of relying on Margaret and her team of private investigators, maybe I’ll find the missing pieces to the puzzle. I have a lot more riding on this than the investigators.

  Every day I stay in this relationship, it becomes harder and harder to image leaving. In another week, I might wonder if I could live in Gavin’s world. I might consider becoming a piece of the lie he’s built.

  But what happens in a few months or years when I realize that I fell for a man who values image above everything?

  “Gavin?”

  He buttons up his jeans and looks at me. His sculpted torso is on full display, tempting me to abandon my question.

  I pull the comforter tighter and ask, “Where in Greece did Sophia Galanos live?”

  “One of the islands, I think.” He pulls on his shirt and places his hands on his hips. “Why?”

  “Just curious,” I say. “Trying to piece this puzzle together so we can put a stop to this mess.”

  He gives a curt nod and heads for the door. He pauses in the doorway and turns to me. “Thank you. I really appreciate … everything.”

  Then he walks away. I have no idea if “everything” includes the amazing sex, my willingness to move my dogs into his homes, my fake fiancée scheme, or all of the above. And right now it doesn’t matter because I have an idea. And I think Sophia Galanos might be the key.

  He remembers the trauma and bullies from when we were young. A child’s hope taints his memory of the social worker’s visits. He would beg to be removed from his foster home and the school where the other boys picked on him. But he couldn’t make Sophia Galanos believe him.

  I know because I was there once when she came over. I saw it through a child’s eyes too, but I think I remember more. I can picture every person in the room. And if I’m right, we’ve met Alexandra before.

  CHAPTER 22

  GAVIN

  “I understand why Kayla likes having you guys around,” I say to the four dogs surrounding me. “You’re good company.”

  There are no pressing questions out here, leading the K-9 herd through the mowed grass. I don’t feel the need to have a deep conversation about the meaning of sex. And yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure that is what just happened in my bedroom. We had mind-blowing sex. Hell, I was already picturing ways to bind her to the damn leather headboard my decorator installed in my room. Mrs. Architectural-Digest-Is-My-Life never envisioned I would want a bed suitable for a little playful bondage.

  And then Kayla asks about my call with her mother.

  “I can’t tell her the truth,” I say. Rocky glances back at me. The others are off sniffing the grass for that illusive perfect place to pee. “How the hell do I tell Kayla that I want to stop pretending? When this is all over with fucking Alexandra, how do I tell her that when she’s still worried she’ll get lost in my fucking shadow?”

  Yeah, I know the dogs don’t understand a word I’m saying, but they are staring at me now. Something about the desperation in my voice must have caught their attention. Or maybe it was the curse words. They don’t hear those from Kayla.

  Or maybe they’re silently demanding to know why I’m still fighting Alexandra if keeping Kayla in my life is so damn important. Why not put the truth out there and disappear to the country with Kayla? Why don’t I simply erase my shadow?

  That’s Kayla’s solution. But she doesn’t understand the ramifications. I’ve built a business as Gavin Black. I’ve spent more than a decade sculpting my public image to drive sales, to stay on top, to be the best. If I cast the truth out there, it could all slip away. My success would tumble down around me.

  “I can’t risk it,” I say to the dogs. “I’m still too fucking afraid of losing everything.”

  But if I don’t, Kayla will walk out of my life. Or at least, retreat to best friend territory. Shit, maybe that’s all I deserve.

  Ava trots over and sits down in front of me as if I issued a command.

  “Good girl,” I mutter. “Let’s keep walking. M
aybe I’ll find a way out of this mess.”

  Ava gives a bark.

  “You have an idea?” I ask. And yeah, I’m desperate enough to take advice from a dog.

  She gives another bark. A second later, I realize Ava has seen an animal or something. She’s racing toward the falling-down barn that marks the border between my property and Kayla’s country cottage.

  “Shit.”

  I lead the herd in pursuit. Luna and Rocky follow at my heels, but the terrier pup runs in front of me. Cleveland’s surprisingly fast for a small dog. We reach the barn and Ava keeps running, blazing a path through Kayla’s yard.

  Maybe Ava wanted to go home.

  I can’t say I blame her. I’ve put these dogs through a lot. First New York City, and then an unfamiliar house in the country. They made themselves at home in both places, scratching up floors and peeing on practically every inch of Central Park. But I know it’s not the same as home.

  Ava rushes through the yard but bypasses the kitchen door. I follow her around the edge of the building and spot an older man holding a package.

  She’s defending her home.

  But how the hell did she know someone was here? The familiar sound of a car on the driveway? The scent of a stranger rising above the other smells? I glance at the barking Shepard with new respect.

  “Can you call off your dog?” the old man calls.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand, content to let Ava practice her defense strategy. So far it doesn’t look as if she plans to bite the trespasser. But he’s not the UPS guy, despite the brown rectangular box in his hand.

  “I was told Kayla Greene lives here.”

  “That’s her dog.” I nod to Ava. I’m not ready to confirm or deny Kayla’s location.

  The man takes a step back and holds the package closer to his chest. “Looks pretty good for a dog that got shot.”

  The pieces click into place. “You’re the idiot hunter,” I snarl, advancing toward the man. “You tried to kill Kayla. And no, that’s not the dog you shot. You hit Luna.”

  The Labrador joins in the barking but remains behind me. Soon Rocky and Cleveland move to Ava’s side, forming a loud, menacing gang.

  “I’m sorry.” He holds up the package. “I came by to drop this off. I thought she might like one of those cakes from the new bakery in town.”

  I don’t give a fuck about the cake. He shot at Kayla. “You could have killed her. You belong in jail where you can’t hurt anyone—”

  “I’m sorry.” He sets the package on the ground and the dogs rush forward, sniffing it.

  I know it will be gone in seconds if I don’t call them back. And for all I know he’s poisoned the damn thing. One glance at the old man slowly backing away from the bakery box tells me that idea is unlikely. Still, I rush forward and pick the box off the ground before the dogs tear it to pieces.

  “You almost killed the woman …”

  I love.

  I don’t say the last words out loud. This fool doesn’t need to know that I love Kayla so damn much the thought that I could lose her terrifies me.

  “Get the hell out of here,” I call after the man. I can’t remember his name. Not that it matters. Ava steps forward. She’s eager to follow the man to his car if she can’t have the bakery box.

  But he closes the car door and throws the sedan into reverse before the Shepard mix reaches it. Ava’s smart enough to back away from the moving vehicle. Then she walks back to me and sits down. I can almost see the wheels turning in her K-9 brain: I did my job. Now hand over the food.

  “You’re a good girl, but that’s not going to happen.” I turn and head back around Kayla’s home. The dogs follow close behind as if holding out hope for a treat when we return to their food bowls.

  We reach the edge of a wet area that we raced through minutes earlier in pursuit of Ava. I pause to clip a leash on Luna to keep her from making poor decisions with her cone. When I took her out yesterday, she scooped a mix of mud and pebbles into the contraption while drinking from a puddle. She’s headed back to the vet tomorrow for a check-up. Hopefully we’ll be rid of the thing before we return to the city.

  If the dogs come back with us.

  But Kayla wouldn’t walk away yet. Not while the threat still looms. This scheme was her idea. And maybe by the end of all this, I can convince her to stay—not in my shadow, but at my side.

  “Let’s go,” I order the herd. Together, we march up the hill, rounding the barn that will soon house Kayla’s Home for Amazing Dogs In Need of Unconditional Love, or whatever the hell she wants to call it. We’re most of the way to the house, with Ava in the lead, when my cell phone vibrates. I juggle the bakery box and Luna’s leash in an effort to retrieve it. I manage to get the phone out of my pocket, and hold it up to my ear.

  “Gavin?” Kayla asks.

  “Yeah, I’m here.” Ava barks as if annoyed by the fact we stopped on our way to the house. “Hold on a second.” I pull the phone away and look at Ava. “Go ahead up to the house. Take the others with you.”

  She trots off with Rocky and Cleveland behind her. Luna lies down at my feet with a sigh. I forgot about the damn leash.

  I exhale and raise the phone back to my ear. “I’m back.”

  “Were you talking to the dogs?” Kayla asks.

  “They’re smart and they listen to me,” I tell her. “Why are you calling? Did you leave the house?”

  “It’s over, Gavin.”

  “Over?” My brow furrows and I clutch the bakery box closer to my chest. I can see the master bedroom window from where I’m standing in the yard. I don’t see movement through the window. But that doesn’t mean she’s left the house. She wouldn’t leave her dogs.

  But she’s getting ready to leave me.

  “What do you mean over?” I demand. “Did Margaret call?”

  “No, I figured it out. I did a little digging after you left.” Her voice is bubbling with excitement. “Get back here and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Hope propels me forward. We can finally take out Alexandra.

  But Kayla will leave.

  With my cell in one hand, and the bakery box in the other, I break into a run. Luna has no choice but to trot at my side, her cone bumping into my legs as we move. I reach the rear entrance and drop the leash. The back door swings open, revealing a triumphant Kayla standing by the kitchen table.

  She glances at the bakery box and cocks her head. “Where did the cake come from?”

  “The guy who shot you tried to break into your house and leave it for you.” I head for the table and set the box beside her computer. “Ava and I stopped him.”

  “What? He broke in?”

  “They should have put him in jail for shooting at you.”

  She folds her arms across her chest. “He came to apologize, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” I admit. “Your turn. What do you mean it’s over?”

  “I think I know who Alexandra is and why she’s blackmailing you.” Her smile falters and she runs her hand over Ava’s head. The Shepard leans again her side. “That’s the good news.”

  “What’s the bad news?” I ask, trying to keep myself from shooting rapid-fire questions at her.

  “I don’t think she’s going to stop,” she says softly.

  What the hell?

  I fold my arms across my chest. “Tell me everything.”

  “I was there for one of Sophia Galanos’s visits. We had just started sophomore year, and the Masters were locking you in the bathroom more and more.”

  “I remember,” I say curtly. I don’t need her to paint a damn picture of my misery.

  “I stopped by on my way home and arrived right when Mrs. Galanos pulled up. She’d known the Masters for years at this point, right?”

  “Yeah, she refused to pull me because she’d lose the commission for the placement.”

  “But this time, she arrived when they still had you locked in the bathroom,” she points out. “And it was after schoo
l so she had her kids with her. Two boys and a baby girl. She had the baby in one of those sling things.”

  “I remember. The Masters were so damn cocky at that point they were convinced she would turn a blind eye to their way of punishing me for getting into fights at school. Nobody gave a shit that I didn’t start the fights. I just got beat up.”

  I draw my arms closer against my chest. I feel weak just thinking about trying to defend myself against well-fed kids twice my size.

  “Sophia Galanos took pictures that day,” Kayla says, the excitement building in her tone.

  “I think she was pretending. They never found the images when they searched her office. The prosecutor said they only had enough evidence to shut the agency down. The records they did locate showed that she skipped most of the required follow-up visits. Not just to me, but with lots of other kids. She blamed it on the caseload, the number of kids in the system, and all that bullshit. That’s how she got off with a fucking slap on the wrist.”

  “She lost her business and had to move in with relatives in Greece. It probably didn’t feel like a slap on the wrist to her family,” Kayla says.

  My brow furrows. I can see where she’s going with this. “You think Alexandra is the baby. You believe she’s Sophia Galanos’s daughter.”

  “Her daughter would be in her twenties now,” Kayla points out as she heads to her computer. She opens the laptop and types in a password. “I found Mrs. Galanos’s obituary in her local paper. It was written in Greek, but I did a quick translation with an online program. It reads: Mrs. Galanos is survived by her three children, including a daughter named Alexandra.”

  “Why would she use her real name to blackmail me?” I demand. “That’s like admitting to extortion.”

  “That’s the bad news.” Kayla straightens, leaving her computer open, and turns to me. “I think she knows that if someone digs deep enough and finds out who she is, it will support her claim and her goals.”

  “She might be Alexandra Galanos, but that doesn’t connect Gavin Black to Terrance Montgomery. Hell, I can still discredit her. I can prove she’s out for money or something.”