The Careless Boyfriend

by Erika Kelly

  “Your call.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  “If you’ve got the dresses,” Robert said. “Then we’ve got everything else.”

  “When you say we, you mean The Granger Collection?” Gray asked.

  “Yep,” Robert said. “We have all the connections, all the vendors and modeling agencies.” He set his arms on the table. “Knox, I think we can do this.”

  She was starting to believe him, and it made her queasy. Getting her hopes up again felt…dangerous. “Even if you could pull it all together—the venue, models, hair stylists, all of that—we’d still need people to show up. There’s no point in showing my gowns to an empty room. And they need to be the right people.”

  “The buzz is already there,” Robert said. “Luc created it for you.”

  “Once she cancelled, though,” Gray said. “All those bloggers and editors and buyers booked other shows. Their schedules are full.”

  As the two men talked about her show, she pulled into herself, needing a moment to take it all in. It felt surreal, the three of them reunited, talking as if no time had passed. Though it clearly had. The men were bigger, harder. The tension between them thicker.

  And Robert was sober. Which was…phenomenal. At first, when he’d tried to hug her, she’d resisted. Residual anger? Probably. It had taken a long time to free herself from the bonds they’d forged over so many years.

  The memories, though, had formed a hard knot in her gut, and they’d stayed there. Until tonight, when he’d whispered in her ear, “Been waiting for this moment, when I could be the man you always wanted me to be.” Those simple words had dissolved the knot. Relief had crashed over her. Seeing him healed was a gift.

  He’d joked about her thinking of him as a homeless junkie, but it wasn’t funny. Over all these years, when she’d allowed herself to think about him, she’d imagined him holed up in some seedy apartment, doing tricks to score meth.

  And now here he was, whole, healthy…and dangling her dream right in front of her.

  “You hear me, babe?” Robert snagged her attention. “I’d bet my trust fund, once they hear you’re back, they’ll rearrange their schedules to come see what you’ve got.”

  Gray rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I think he’s right about that.”

  Robert smiled at him—and just that moment of connection between old friends gave her the peace of mind that they could work together, the three of them.

  “Well, before you get all excited,” she said. “You should probably see the collection. If you don’t love it, you won’t be able to sell it.”

  “I got into town yesterday. Went to the bunkhouse to see you. Saw all those dresses…” Robert let out a slow breath through pursed lips. “Damn. They’re dynamite. That’s when I got the idea, because, babe, those dresses deserve more than a pop-up boutique. I looked you up online and, I’m telling you, I lost count of how many articles and blogs are out there, talking about Knox Holliday, the White-Hot Wedding Gown Designer.” He got a gleam in his eyes. “You’re the talk of the town. We can do this. I can make it happen.”

  “You don’t know how much I want to, but with just three weeks to pull it off, I can’t risk it. When I debut at fashion week, it has to be big. I can’t afford anything less.”

  “The Granger Collection’s got a whole department for fashion shows. I’ve got enough people to guide me that I know I can pull this off.”

  “It’s expensive, Robert. You hire the models for the whole week, because it’s not just the show itself they have to dress for. They have to be in the room for presentations and appointments.” She’d just made peace with this new path, and now Robert—of all people—was giving the original one back to her.

  And the worst thing of all? He was right. She might not get everyone who’d responded to her original invitation, but she knew without a doubt that plenty of the editors and buyers would come see her collection.

  Robert leaned in, giving off a powerful forcefield of energy. “Give me a chance, Knox, to not let you down. I don’t know what it costs, I don’t know if I can get the editors and buyers to come, I can’t guarantee a damn thing, but I want to try. Before you outright reject me, can you give me a couple of days to try and pull this together?”

  “I want Bridal Fashion Week more than anything, but I only get one shot out of the starting gate. If I fail, if the models don’t know what they’re doing, or the right people don’t come to the show, then it’s ten times worse for me than not showing at all. So, if you want to see what you can do—quietly and behind the scenes—then, okay, let’s give it a shot.”

  “Yeah?” Robert gave her a look that said, We’re doing this. You and me.

  “Yeah.”

  “I won’t let you down.”

  * * *

  Knox flicked on the lights, tossed her tote on the table, and headed into the kitchen. “I’m making tea. You want some?” Her brain was spinning so fast, she couldn’t make it stop. Bridal Fashion Week was three weeks away. Even with The Granger Collection’s connections, they still needed a venue, wedding gown models. The dresses needed to fit the models. Stylists, PR.

  There was so much to think about. She’d totally relied on Luc last time.

  She set the kettle under the faucet and looked up at Gray. “Do you have Robert’s number?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “I might be changing my mind. It’s too risky.” She shut off the water and placed the kettle on the stove.

  “You want to sleep on it?” Gray pulled down two mugs, the answer to her question.

  “You’re having tea?”

  “I’m having tea with you.”

  Oh, God. This man. He had a way of saying things that sliced through all the wires she got herself tangled up in. She slid her arms through his.

  Pressure bore down on her, though, and her head ached. She pulled away from him and poured honey into her mug. She offered the bear-shaped container to him, but he shook his head. “I just don’t know if I can trust him,” she said. “He sounded good, but…I don’t know. Maybe I’m not being fair, judging him by his past behavior.”

  “I don’t see how we could trust him—especially with something as important as this. But we don’t have to take his word on anything. He’ll come to us with what he’s got, and we’ll follow up. Verify that it’s all above-board and exactly what you want. You did make it clear you wanted him to do it behind the scenes.”

  “I’m smarter than I realized.”

  “You are.”

  “And his mom is doing the pop-up for me, so she would want the show to go well. It’ll drive business to her store.”

  “She’s not doing it for you.” His tone said, Can you get that through your thick head? “It’s not a favor. She’s a businesswoman. She’s not giving you two hundred and fifty grand and space in her Fifth Avenue boutique because you used to date her son. She’s doing it because she wants a piece of your very hot action.”

  She shook her ass. “Pretty sure everyone wants a piece of my action.”

  He came up behind her and enfolded her in his arms. “Can you blame them? Everyone wants to be associated with a superstar.” Kissing her cheek, he rocked her in his arms.

  She tipped her head back against his chest. “He seemed sober, right?”

  “He did, but he’s always hid it well.” He looked uncomfortable, and she knew he had more to say about it.

  She pulled out of his embrace to face him. “That’s the point. He hides it well, and I guess I don’t want to go back there, where I’m sniffing his breath and sneaking looks at his phone and wondering where he is every second. It’s different now. This is my career.”

  “You’re right. So, if you don’t trust him, then we stick to the plan. You will get your show. It just has to be when it’s right for you.”

  If it were anyone but her ex, would it seem like such an enormous decision? Like, was it the timing—three weeks to pull it off? No, that wasn’t it. She would defin
itely look into it.

  It was Robert.

  She pulled two teabags out of the chamomile box, staring at the silver kettle but seeing her ex’s hands beating out a tune on the table. It didn’t mean he was high. Could’ve been nervous. I mean, talk about a surprise reunion…and at the exact moment she and Gray were kissing?

  They’d all been nervous. There was so much going on beneath the surface.

  “Strange seeing him after all these years.” His big palm covered her cheek.

  “I always thought, if I ever saw him again, he’d hate me. I didn’t see hate.” As the kettle started to whistle, she poured the water into the mugs. “And no one’s got better skills at reading him than I do. All I ever did was check for signs that he was high or lying or cheating or stealing. So, yeah, my Spidey senses are well-honed.”

  “And what did you see?”

  “He kept moving. His hands, fingers, a leg shaking under the table.”

  Gray nodded. “I noticed.”

  “But my senses aren’t reliable, because I was so nervous about seeing him. And then he dropped the fashion week bomb. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “You don’t need to know anything right now.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.” She brought the mug to her mouth, letting the steam warm her, the scent relax her. Only, it wasn’t working. The pressure kept bearing down on her, making it hard to take a full breath.

  She looked around the room, the empty work stations. Tomorrow, the sewers would return to pack up their stations, marking each box so it could be taken to the new space.

  Committing her to living in Calamity.

  Breathe.

  And now Robert was back in town.

  And she and Gray were together. The world titled, and she reached for the counter.

  Leaving his mug on the counter, Gray headed out of the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Gonna grab some blankets. Let’s take our tea and sit outside.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Except that nothing seemed like a good idea. Everything seemed scary and overwhelming. Images rushed her—the trailer, her comforter, in particular—the tear from Robert’s belt buckle. He ruined everything.

  He did. He always had. There wasn’t a single good memory from their last couple of years together. So, why would she trust him with her show?

  You want it so much you’re willing to take a chance on the least trustworthy person you know?

  Gray strode out of the hallway with a big, down comforter in his arms. Something about seeing this man—this big, powerful man—coming toward her with a blanket made her feel scared. And she didn’t know why.

  Well, she did know. She was afraid of getting too close to him, of relying on him, only to have him take off and leave her alone again. She blinked back the sting of tears and busied herself with stirring her tea. If she looked at him, he’d see it. And she needed to be strong.

  He opened the French doors. “Can you grab my mug?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.”

  He nodded but didn’t go out the door. “You coming?”

  “In a minute. I want to make a list. For Robert. If we’re going to do this, then I need to know he won’t mention my name. I also need to make sure he understands about the production. This is a big event. You can’t show dresses like these in an ordinary setting. And I need him to know I can’t pay for anything. I just took on the lease of a building I don’t even know if I can afford. I mean, I haven’t even talked to the MacAllister sisters. They might not choose me. I might not get another order at all. And then where will I be?”

  Gray dropped the blanket and was at her side in three long strides. “Hey.”

  She waved a hand. “I’m good. I didn’t mean to go off on you like that. It’ll work out.” Lifting both mugs, she started out of the kitchen. “Let’s go.”

  But he blocked her. “You’re not alone.”

  “I know.” She tried to push past him.

  He tipped her chin. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

  Sweetheart? No one in her entire life had called her that term of endearment.

  “You’re not alone.”

  “I know that. Come on. Let’s go outside. It’s a nice night.” Actually, it was freezing.

  Still, he didn’t budge. “We’re in this together.”

  The knot in her throat tightened, cutting off her ability to speak, so she just nodded.

  His cupped the back of her head. “I’m going to wrap us up in that blanket, and we’re going to look at the moonlight on the mountain, and we’re going to talk about every little thing that’s on your mind.”

  Hot tea splashed over the rim, and Gray pried the mugs out of her hands, setting them on the counter, all while talking in his low, growly voice. “Every worry and doubt and concern, and when we’re done, if you don’t have the peace you’re looking for, we’ll go to bed, I’ll love every inch of your beautiful body, and we’ll wake up and talk it through some more.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, the tension banding so tightly around her head, she thought it would pop like a boiled cranberry.

  “We won’t stop until we’ve worked it all out.” Gently, he ran his fingers through her hair. “And when the next obstacle comes, we’ll work it out together. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Even when I’m in New Zealand, I’m still going to be here with you.”

  She couldn’t see him through the sheen of tears.

  “Want to know why?”

  Somehow the answer to that question meant everything to her.

  “Because I’ve waited a long damn time to be with you, and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to lose you. I’m going to do everything I can to earn your respect and love. So, if there’s nothing else you can be sure of right now, there’s this. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, and that means you’re never going to be alone again.”

  Her knees buckled, and she let out a strangled cry. Hot tears flooded her cheeks, and her body crumpled. Thanks to Gray and his reflexes, he caught her elbows, keeping her from hitting the floor. Lowering them both, he wrapped an arm around her. She drew up her knees and hid her face between them. She couldn’t stop the tears or the choking sounds.

  Gray hauled her onto his lap, arranging her limp and useless limbs so that she straddled him. She tucked her face into his neck and just wailed.

  He didn’t shush her, didn’t beg her to stop crying, didn’t even ask what he could do to help. He just held her while she sobbed. Her brain was nothing but white noise, her emotions at such an extreme pitch she couldn’t make sense of them.

  Her stomach muscles ached, her skull weighed two tons, and yet every tear that flooded out of her seemed to carry the weight of one worry, one fear, one ounce of anxiety, until…she’d emptied her body of all of it. It was like she’d spent all the pain and loss built up over a lifetime, leaving her deflated as an old balloon. She drew in a shuddering breath and dragged the back of her hand across her leaking nose.

  “Sexy.” Cupping her bottom, he effortlessly lifted them both. “Here.” He snatched a couple of paper towels off the dispenser and handed them to her, lowering them back to the floor.

  Blowing her nose, she patted the dampness off her face. Her body felt bruised and battered, as if she’d been jumped in an alley, but her mind felt a thousand times lighter. “So, that happened.”

  “You do everything next level, including breaking down.”

  “Thank you?” She let out a long, slow breath. “When I was a little girl, I used to jump out of bed, get dressed, and get ready for whatever my mom said we were going to do that day. But, most of the time, she didn’t wake up until it was too late to go. She worked late, she was tired, she’d had friends over. Whatever. And there just came a day when I didn’t believe her anymore.”

  “You haven’t had many people you could rely on.”

  “But I can rely on you. And I think…all that…” She motioned to her face. �
��Was because I trust you. I trust you enough to fall to pieces in front of you.”

  “I like that, sweetheart. I like it very fucking much.”

  * * *

  Leaving their tea behind, they headed outside. Gray wrapped the comforter around himself and sat down first, then drew her down onto his lap.

  She snuggled in, before taking in the wide Wyoming sky, ablaze with glittering stars. “Do you remember that Etch-a-Sketch I had? You used to write me secret messages on it?”

  “Of course.”

  She caressed his bottom lip. He was such a handsome man. “You made me shake it immediately after reading, so no one would see it.”

  “So Robert wouldn’t see it.” He grabbed her wrist and pressed a kiss to the tip of her finger.

  “You guys were so freaking competitive.”

  “I wasn’t competitive with him.” He stroked the hair away from her temples. “I just wanted what he had. There’s a difference.”

  She glanced up at him and saw the worry tightening his handsome features. If she’d known he felt this way back then, would she have broken up with Robert earlier? Not a chance. Not only would she never have believed it, they couldn’t have betrayed Robert’s trust like that.

  He gave her a gentle nudge. “The Etch-a-Sketch.”

  “Right. Well, I took pictures of every message you ever made me.”

  He shot her a look.

  “I did. And I printed them at CVS and saved them. Every single one. They’re in a box under the bed. You had a way of saying just the right thing. Like, I don’t know if you remember—”

  “I remember everything.”

  Drinking in the sincerity in his eyes, she ran her fingers through his scruff. “This one day I was walking to my locker between fourth and fifth periods, and I could see it’d been pried open. I wasn’t going to be that stupid girl who opened it only to find a dead rat or whatever. So, I went to the office and told them about it, told them I wanted someone to come with me and to bring the janitor. The saddest thing was that they didn’t even hesitate. It wasn’t like, Oh, come on drama queen. No, Mrs. Andretti got her SWAT team together, and we marched over to my locker, all of us totally geared up for something terrible. And, lo and behold, those assholes had filled it with garbage from the cafeteria. And I mean, fresh bits of hamburger and pudding, fish sticks. It was disgusting.”