A woman who rewarded the unwanted contact with an angry scowl. “What. The. Fuck,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry.” He sucked in a breath, cringing when she scooted to the other end of the couch. “I thought—shit, Jane. That was a crappy thing to do.”
“Beyond crappy,” she grumbled. Then, to his surprise, she started to laugh. “That totally felt incestuous, no?”
He laughed too. “Um, yeah, to say the least. I’m sorry,” he repeated.
Jane’s laughter died, replaced by a heavy sigh. “I forgive you.” She paused. “But now that you’ve gotten that out of your system, can you please get on a plane to San Francisco and win back the woman you actually love?”
He hesitated. “No,” he finally said.
“Why not?” She sounded frazzled.
“Because this doesn’t change anything. Maybe I misunderstood my feelings for you, but I know exactly where I stand with Annabelle’s family. Her dad tried to pay me off, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well, screw him,” Jane retorted. “You love Annabelle, not her dad.”
“I don’t belong in her life,” he said softly.
She slowly slid back toward him. This time when she touched his cheek, her fingers were gentle. “Then you know what that makes you, Ry?”
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
She dropped her hand, the disappointment on her face unmistakable. “It makes you a goddamn fool.”
10
Annabelle spent the morning in her childhood bedroom, trying to figure out what the heck to do. Her heart felt like someone had smashed it with a hammer, and she still couldn’t believe what a fool she’d been, actually believing that she and Ryan had more than a fling going. Somehow, during their two weeks together, she’d fallen for him.
But he hadn’t fallen for her.
She sat down at the edge of the four-poster bed, looking around the bedroom in dismay. Decorated in shades of cream and yellow, the room boasted an antique dresser, a huge desk built into the wall, and a walk-in closet that was bigger than Christina’s bedroom back in San Diego. Everything was neat and pristine—her mother didn’t allow clutter. Growing up, Annabelle had hated this perfect, impersonal room.
She was probably going to have to move back in here until she found a place of her own, and she wasn’t looking forward to being under the same roof as her parents again. But what choice did she have? No matter what Bryce said, she wasn’t going to marry him. Because despite how things had ended with Ryan, her time with him had shown her that she didn’t want to be with Bryce. She wanted a man who gave a damn about her, who made her feel beautiful and special, who made her laugh and appreciated her.
Bryce Worthington was not that man.
She still didn’t know why he’d dropped that bomb at the dinner table last night without even speaking to her about it first. After Ryan left, she’d gone up to her room and locked the door, refusing to talk to anyone. She’d heard Bryce and his parents leaving, heard him assure everyone that his fiancée was just a little “overwhelmed”. Overwhelmed, her ass. Who did he think he was, telling everyone they were back together?
A sharp knock rapped on her door, and she lifted her head in irritation. “Yes?” she called.
“Miss Holmes,” came Magdalena’s polite voice, “Mr. Worthington is here to see you.”
She stifled a groan. Great. Bryce was back, no doubt to try and talk her into marrying him. For a moment she wanted to tell the housekeeper to kick him out, but then she realized this was the perfect opportunity to set things straight.
“Thanks, Magdalena. Have him wait in the den,” she replied. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
As Magdalena’s footsteps retreated down the hall, Annabelle walked into her private bath and checked her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked a little red, probably from all the crying she’d done after Ryan left. She pinched her cheeks to give them some color. When she saw Bryce, she didn’t want to look like a gaunt, pathetic girl who’d been dumped—twice.
He was standing at the bay window when she strode into the spacious den. She joined him, frowning when he tried to draw her into an embrace. “No, Bryce,” she said stiffly, shrugging his hands off her.
His pale-blue eyes flickered with annoyance. “I can’t hug you now?”
“No, you can’t.” She crossed her arms. “What the hell was last night about? We’re not back together and you know it.”
He looked sheepish. “I know, it might have been a little presumptuous of me, but I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy?” she echoed in disbelief. “You broke up with me because you wanted to take a walk on the wild side, and all of a sudden you want to marry me again?”
He shifted, discomfort lining his face. “I made a mistake,” he said in a vague tone. “I realized right after I ended it just how much I missed you.”
She snorted. “Is that why you were making out with some girl at the Sheppard party?”
His eyes flashed. “Who told you that?” Before she could reply, the anger in his eyes was replaced with regret. “I messed up, okay? But I’m willing to make it up to you, sweetheart. I really want to marry you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t want to marry you.”
He faltered. “You don’t?”
Was he seriously surprised? She let out a harsh laugh. “Of course not. Why would I want to marry a guy who dumped me like a piece of trash?”
His jaw tensed. He turned his head and focused on the sparkling water of the bay a hundred yards away. When he finally turned back to her, suspicion hardened his face. “Is this about that guy you brought home last night?” His voice went cold. “I’m willing to forgive you for that, so why can’t you forgive me?”
“This isn’t some forgiveness contest,” she retorted. “And me not wanting to marry you has nothing to do with Ryan. Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not seeing each other anymore.”
Relief filled his eyes. “Then there’s no reason for us not to get back together.”
She released a frustrated sigh. “Why are you so eager to marry me? Is someone holding a gun to your head, for Pete’s sake?”
Something about his expression gave her pause. It wasn’t so much guilt as it was…fear? She uncrossed her arms, letting them dangle to her sides. She suddenly felt weary. “What’s going on, Bryce?”
He mumbled something.
“I can’t hear you,” she snapped.
“Your father,” he said, raising his voice.
“What about my father?”
“He threatened to fire me, okay?” Bryce spat out, sounding livid. “He said if I didn’t stop screwing around and do right by you, I’d lose my job.”
Horror swarmed her body. He couldn’t possibly be serious. Her dad was controlling, sure, but not cruel. Right?
“If you’re lying to me, I swear to God, Bryce, I’ll kick your ass,” she warned.
“I’m not lying, Annabelle. He pulled me into his study before dinner last night and laid it all out.”
She stared at Bryce, a vine of disgust twining around her spine. “So you were willing to marry me to keep your job? That’s pathetic.”
His face turned red. He opened his mouth to say something, but she was through listening. She held up her hand to silence him. “We are not getting married, Bryce. I don’t care what threats my dad made against you, but if it makes you feel better, I’m going to talk to him right now and tell him to stop interfering in our lives.” She sighed. “I’ll make sure you keep your job, okay?”
Surprise filled his gaze. “You will?”
“Yes, so long as you understand that we are not getting back together. I don’t want to.” She paused. “And I don’t think you do either. So please, Bryce, just leave.”
With a nod, he stepped away from the window. “I am sorry, you know.” He met her eyes, shamefaced. “I know I was an ass to you, but I think we can both agree our relationship wasn’t working.”
She co
uldn’t help laugh. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that.”
Her chest felt surprisingly light as she walked Bryce to the front door. They didn’t hug or kiss goodbye; he just slid out the door, and the past five years they’d spent together simply floated away in the warm morning breeze.
Annabelle closed the door after him, then leaned against it, collecting her thoughts. A minute later, she straightened her shoulders in determination and made her way to her father’s study.
* * *
Ryan raised his beer to his lips, staring glumly at the TV. Thank fuck Matt was out. It spared him the humiliation of being horribly belittled for his current viewing choice. But this was the last movie he’d watched with Annabelle, and he’d always been a sucker for self-torture. He drained the rest of his beer, the cold alcohol sliding down his throat but doing nothing to soothe the ache in his gut.
He missed Annabelle. He’d known her for only two weeks, and yet it felt like so much longer. And now that she was no longer in his life, it was like there was a big gaping hole in his chest. It was stupid, really. Things between them would have ended anyway—she had a job, a life, in San Francisco. Wasn’t like she would’ve moved to San Diego to be with him.
Quit thinking about her, he ordered himself. She’s gone, it’s over. Go out and get laid.
But the idea of having sex with some random chick at a club or bar held no appeal for him. He didn’t want random. He wanted Annabelle. It was funny—for months he’d thought he was in love with Jane, and in the end he’d been totally blindsided by his love for Annabelle.
The click of the door opening jolted him from his thoughts. Shit. Matt was back.
Ryan set down his empty bottle and looked around for the remote control so he could turn off the movie before he got caught watching it. Damn, where the hell was the—
He froze when Annabelle strode into his living room.
She wore a pair of baggy cargo shorts, a snug blue tank top, and red flip-flops. His pulse immediately sped up, getting faster when she crossed her arms over her chest, emphasizing her full cleavage.
“Hi,” she said casually.
He swallowed. “Hi.”
One delicate eyebrow lifted. “Why didn’t you tell me my father tried to pay you off?”
A wave of surprise crashed into him, along with a flash of regret. He hadn’t wanted her to find out about that. Her father might be an ass, but he was still her father. And Ryan hated the pain he saw swimming in her eyes.
“I didn’t want to ruin your relationship with the guy,” he admitted.
She uncrossed her arms, perching one hand on her hip. “Out of curiosity, how much did he offer?”
He made a wry face. “We never got that far, to tell you the truth. I told him to screw off long before we made it there.”
Something that resembled satisfaction flickered on her face. “Good.” Her eyes darkened. “But then you told me to screw off, too.”
Regret rose in his chest. He wanted to apologize, but she lifted her hand to silence him.
“I get why,” she said quietly. “You told me about the way you grew up, how awful it was. And then my dad goes and tells you that you don’t belong. I can see why it freaked you out.”
He slowly held her gaze. “You do?”
“Everyone gets insecure sometimes, Ryan. I just wish you’d talked to me about it instead of—O-M-G, are you watching Second Time Around?” she suddenly demanded, noticing for the first time what was on the screen.
His cheeks heated up. Fuck. This was goddamn mortifying. “Uh, it’s on TV,” he lied.
“No, it’s not. I can see the player counting the minutes going by.” Annabelle let out a delighted laugh. “You miss me!”
He tried to tamp down his amusement, but it came out in the form of a sheepish smile. “Yeah, maybe a little.”
Before he could react, she bounded toward him and launched herself into his arms. He held her close, breathing in the sweet scent of orange blossoms, rubbing his chin against the silky-smooth flesh of her neck. God, it felt good holding her again.
“I miss you too,” she said. “I know it’s only been a day since you left, but it feels like forever.”
“I know,” he confessed.
She searched his face. “I just…what you said at the house…you didn’t mean any of it, did you?”
“None of it,” he said gruffly.
Relief flooded her face. “I thought so. Not at the time, but after I confronted my dad and found out what he tried to do, I figured you said all that stuff because you were…I don’t know, scared?”
As a rule, he hated to admit fear, but at the moment, he knew he had no choice. If he wanted this woman back—and God, he did—then he had to be completely honest with her. “I felt like a loser,” he mumbled. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, so I said whatever I could to convince you I didn’t want you.”
“And the thing about…um…Jane?”
He touched her cheek. “I don’t love her. I thought I did, a while ago, but I was wrong.” He swallowed hard. “But you…I’m in love with you, Annabelle, and I know I’m not wrong about that.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “You’re in love with me?”
He nodded earnestly.
The smile widened. “Good. Because I’m in love with you too.”
Pleasure soared in his chest. “You are?”
It was her turn to nod. “And I already decided I won’t do the long-distance thing. Those relationships never work out.”
He moistened his dry lips. “I can’t move to San Francisco, babe. I need to stay close to the base so—”
She interrupted with a laugh. “Duh. I’m going to talk to my boss about transferring me to our San Diego office. She’s always talking about how that location is understaffed, so I think she might really go for it.”
Emotion clogged his throat. “You want to move here?”
“Why not? I like it here.”
“What about your family?”
“I think it might be a good idea to be away from them for a while. God, I’m so furious at my dad. I can’t believe he did that to you, and then he tried to do the same thing to Bryce.”
Ryan frowned. “What?”
“He threatened to fire him if he didn’t get back together with me,” Annabelle said darkly. “But I convinced him to let Bryce keep his job.”
“I hate that I might have done something to ruin your relationship with your father,” Ryan said roughly.
She sighed. “I’ll forgive him eventually. I hate staying mad at people. But like I said, I think some space from him and my mom will be for the best.”
He drew her into his arms, dipping his head to kiss her. “So do you want to move in here?”
She looked startled. “Here?”
“Duh,” he mimicked. “Eventually we’ll get a place alone if you want, but I can’t abandon Matt just yet. We signed a one-year lease.”
She laughed. “Way to get ahead of yourself, Roger. I was thinking more along the lines of staying at Christina’s. She and Joe might end up finding a place together anyway, which means I could stay upstairs for good.”
Ryan couldn’t help but smile. For good. He liked the sound of that. “Well, my door’s always open, if you change your mind.”
She leaned in to kiss him again. “Okay, now that we’ve settled that…can we have make-up sex?”
He rolled his eyes. “Like that’s even up for debate.”
“We still have two more items on the list to check off,” she reminded him, arching one eyebrow.
He struggled to remember the elusive two items, then grinned when he did. “Number ten,” he said with a decisive nod. “Let’s start with that one.”
Annabelle shook her head. “No way. I took a shower before I boarded the flight. I’ll get all sticky if we do number ten.”
But he was already on his feet, heading for the kitchen to get a bottle of maple syrup.
Glancing at her over his sho
ulder, he flashed a brilliant smile and said, “Trust me, it’ll be fun.”
The End
* * *
UP NEXT: Matt’s story! Keep reading for The Heat is On…
The Heat is On
An Out of Uniform Novella
1
“Everyone down on the floor!”
Matt O’Connor always knew there was a reason he hated banks, but it wasn’t until this exact moment that he figured out why: money made people go insane. And a building full of it? Well, apparently that turned people into idiots.
Yup, idiots. That was the only word to describe the three morons who bounded into the lobby of San Diego Savings and Loans with pantyhose covering their faces. They wore ill-fitting camo outfits that they’d probably picked up at a discount army surplus store, and the way two of them held their handguns revealed that handling weapons wasn’t their strong suit. The third guy, whose long black hair stuck out from beneath his ridiculous hose mask, held his 9mm with ease, but aside from the fact that he knew how to grip a gun, he was as inept as the others.
Several female patrons in the brightly lit lobby shrieked at the sight of the robbers, immediately face-planting themselves on the tiled floor. An older gentleman took his time lowering himself down, while a couple of others just stood frozen in place as if they couldn’t figure out if this was for real or if they were being pranked.
“This is a bank robbery!” Black Hair shouted.
Matt rolled his eyes. First of all, no shit. Secondly, didn’t robbers say something like “This is a hold-up!”? Who used the words bank robbery during a bank robbery?
“You! Yeah, you, shaved head!”
Huh. They were talking to him, Matt realized. He turned slowly to find the barrel of a gun pointed at his face, this one wielded by a guy with a huge hooked nose that the hose couldn’t hide. “I said down on the ground.”
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 37