“What are you thinking about?” Armand’s voice rumbled from his chest and tickled her ear.
“I was thinking that I handled myself pretty well.”
“You did. As I said, you wear a badge of courage.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and trailed his thumb over her scar. “Many would have been having hysterics after such a situation.”
“You were pretty calm and capable through all of this as well.”
“I’m used to handling the unexpected at the bar.”
“Hmm…” She sensed there were things he wasn’t telling her but let it go for now. “I wonder what will happen to Kathy. We worked together for quite a while and I never once suspected her of being involved in anything shady.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I imagine she’ll be questioned as to how she came to have the USB drive.”
“Probably. I still feel bad. And the way she was talking towards the end, I don’t think she’s very stable. In her mind, she must have thought she was doing the right thing.”
“I applaud your kind heart, but in all likelihood, she would have killed you after getting what she wanted.”
“Yeah, there is that. Jeff, however, I really need to apologize to him.”
“For what?”
“At one point, before I knew he was an undercover agent, I was so angry that I wished he’d chop off his finger next time he did one of his knife tricks.”
Armand gave a shout of laughter. “That was rather mild. I’m sure others would have wished him damage to another body part.”
She grinned as she realized his meaning.
He was quiet for a while, his thumb gently stroking her arm. Eventually, he spoke again. “I was scared I would lose you tonight. That we wouldn’t find you or that even if we did, I wouldn’t be able to save you.”
“I was scared, too.”
“I never want to feel that way again.” His hand moved up, tilting her chin so he could reach her mouth. He kissed her gently, his lips barely brushing over hers, back and forth, back and forth, before pressing closer.
She turned, wiggling around for better access, taking the lead and kissing him back fervently, her tongue slipping into his mouth, tasting and stroking, retreating and encouraging him to follow.
He grabbed her hips, arranging her so she was straddling him, stroking her back then cupping her head, holding her close as their kiss grew more frenzied. Passion crackled in the air and she began tugging at his shirt, eager to feel him, to run her hands over the muscled planes of his chest and…
His phone rang.
“Ignore it.” She nibbled on his lip and he groaned.
“It’s probably Ryne.”
“I don’t care.” She licked his neck and he shivered.
“Ahh… Lucy…” He swallowed hard then pushed her away. “I have to talk to him.”
“Now?” She let her lip form a pout and batted her lashes, shamelessly using her eyes to try to convince him to follow her wishes. “Are you sure?”
He gave her a quick kiss and then resolutely picked her up and set her beside him. “I’m sorry, this is important.”
“Okay, but hurry.” She sighed heavily.
“I will.” He gave her one more kiss and then stepped into the hallway to talk, pulling the apartment door shut behind him.
She couldn’t begin to imagine what he and Ryne were up to, but her mother had always said everyone had a right to their own secrets so she’d not push him for answers. It didn’t mean she wasn’t curious, though. Just like with Ryne, it would seem there was a lot more to Armand than met the eye.
Leaning her head back, she amused herself by creating wild scenarios in which the two men were spies, part of some secret organization. She yawned and pulled her legs up on the sofa. The room was blurry due to wearing her old spare glasses, the indistinct shapes perfect fodder for her musings. Maybe Melody was part of this mythical group. And even Bryan and Daniel and…
Armand entered Lucy’s apartment a short while later, having updated Ryne on what had occurred that evening. As expected, Ryne had teased him about the need for a DC to be dispatched to the bowling alley in case anyone questioned what they had seen.
“I thought you said bears didn’t get in trouble the way wolves did.”
“I blame the presence of the zombies.”
Ryne chuckled and then they’d gotten down to the important matters. Ryne said he was going to pass along the information to his contact, Reno Smith, and was quite sure the matter was over and done with.
“This subversive group is likely a small minority.” Ryne had stated. “Reno said Lycan Link has been working hard to unite all shifters. I suppose that’s their issue. There are always a few who feel they aren’t being treated fairly.”
“It’s difficult to meet the needs of everyone,” he’d agreed. “But small minorities should have their voices heard, too. They need to know they can trust Lycan Link to look out for them and such trust does not always come easily.”
They’d talked briefly about a few other matters including how things were going at the Broken Antler, and then Armand had ended the call stating he would be home soon.
He then began to check flights back home and booked two seats. His plan was to make love to Lucy until he convinced her that returning home was the only possible option and then whisk her away before she could change her mind. When he’d first arrived in Chicago, he’d said he was going to be decisive and act quickly, but the debacle with the USB drive had gotten in the way. Now it was time to return to his original agenda.
Tucking his phone away, he made his way back to the living room.
“I’m sorry for the delay, Lucy. I…” His voice trailed off.
She’d fallen asleep in his absence.
Damn. Anticipation of the process of convincing her had his body primed and ready, but it would have to wait until morning. The dark smudges under her eyes testified to her need for sleep.
Bending over, he gently scooped her up and carried her to bed.
Chapter 21
“You know, if they could make alarm clocks that wake a person up the way you woke me up, they’d make a fortune.” Lou mumbled the thought, pleasantly tired and relaxed.
“No one would ever want to get out of bed though.” Armand lay on his back beside her, his fingers intertwined with hers.
“You’re probably right.” She sighed and silence fell between them, the companionable kind that occurred when two people felt so close they didn’t need words. Her eyes drifted shut, a smile curving her lips as she listened contentedly to the sound of his breathing.
Sometime later, Armand stirred, stretching and hitching himself up against the headboard.
“It’s good, being together like this, is it not?” His comment was delivered in sleepy tones, his French accent always heavier in the morning.
“Yes, it’s good.” She rolled onto her side and pressed a kiss to his chest, then amused herself by outlining his abs with the tip of a finger, then followed the trail of body hair to where it disappeared beneath the sheets. Teasingly, she began to inch the cover down.
“Then you’ll return to Stump River with me?”
Her hand stilled, the leap in his thinking unexpected.
“I…”
“Chicago is too big with too little nature. You’ve been in danger many times while here. Returning home where we can be together is the logical answer.”
She drew back and looked up at him. “That may seem logical to you, but not to me. I have a job here.”
“You have a job at the Broken Antler and I’m sure Ruth will take you back as well, if you want more hours.”
“But the drop-in centre—"
“Is just a volunteer position, correct?”
Just a volunteer position? She felt her eyes widen and took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and reasonable. “Yes, I volunteer there but it’s also a learning experience. Remember I’m going to school to get a degree. I want to be a counsello
r.”
“Counselling is talking to people, listening to their problems. I do that all the time at the bar.”
“It’s not the same and you know it. You’re being deliberately difficult.” She sat up beside him, wrapping the sheet around herself and tucking it under her arms.
“To me, you’re the one being difficult.” He crossed his arms. “I want you to come home, Lucy.”
“You want. But what about what I want?”
“You don’t want to be with me?” There was definitely a hurt tone in his voice.
“No. I mean yes. I do want to be with you. I’m just not sure I want to go back to Stump River.”
He looked away. She noticed how his hand was curling into a fist. “I can’t live in a big city. It’s not right for me.”
“I know.” She felt her throat tighten.
“These courses you’re studying, could you take them in Canada? I know Stump River has nothing but maybe in Timmins?”
She shrugged and stared down at the sheet. “Maybe. It’s hours away though and I don’t know if I can even transfer my credits.”
He was silent. She knew he wanted her to give up everything and return home, for things to go back to what they were; but she didn’t know if she could do it.
“I…I want more for myself, Armand. You know that’s what I always talked about, getting away from being in a small town, making a fresh start, not being ‘good old Lucy’. This is my chance to follow my dream.” She looked at him, tears pricking her eyes.
“At the expense of mine?” He pressed his lips firmly together and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She wanted to ask him what his dreams were, but didn’t know if she could handle the answer. What if he said he loved her? He’d not spoken the words or proposed any kind of definite future for them, but she was sure that was what he meant. If he did, if he spilled his heart, would she change her mind?
Could she change her mind and still be true to herself?
An ache began to grow in her chest. His silence was probably for the best. Hurting him, making him beg, was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Armand, you’ve always been so good to me. When my mother died, you gave me a job, you watched over me as I grew up, listened to me grumble when I broke up with someone—"
“Do not say I’ve been like a father to you!” He swung his legs out of bed and sat with his back to her.
“No! Never a father! Not even a brother.” She crawled over the mattress until she was behind him, her hands resting on his shoulders, the tension evident in the tautness of his muscles. “You were a very good friend and maybe…maybe something more. But the timing wasn’t right for you back then, I guess.”
“I thought you were too young.” He leaned forward and her hands slid from his back. “Now it seems I should have taken you up on your offer all those years ago.”
“Maybe, but we can’t change the past.” She reached out to touch him then stopped, her hand hovering in mid air. The time for touching was gone.
“And now the timing isn’t right for you.”
“No. No, it isn’t.” She sank back on her heels increasing the distance between them as if that would lessen the hurt. It didn’t.
“Last night, I purchased two tickets back home.” He swallowed hard. “It seems I only have need of one now.”
She didn’t reply, her throat so tight no sound could escape. It didn’t matter though. There was nothing left to say.
“The flight leaves tonight at seven. I should get dressed. There are a few things I need to do before I leave.” He stood and reached for his clothes.
“Can I make you breakfast or tea or something?” She watched him dress, fighting the urge to give in, to agree to go with him. But if she did, would she resent the decision in years to come? Grow bitter and come to hate him for what she’d given up?
“Non, merci. I’m sure you’re tired after yesterday.”
She wanted to say she’d never be too tired to do something for him. Instead, she kept silent, putting on her old glasses and wrapping a robe around herself, then following him to the door.
He stopped in the small entryway, one hand pressed to the wooden door, his shoulders slumped rather than his usual straight posture. Guilt ate away at her. She’d done this to him by not giving in. Or maybe it was his own doing because he’d waited too long and then expected too much.
She blinked trying to clear her vision. The old prescription in her glasses meant his image was already blurry and now, now she could barely make out his face through the watery sheen of tears.
Damn, why couldn’t things be different? He was a good man, kind and gentle and he cared for her, loved her even though he’d never said the words. Why wasn’t that enough for her? Years ago, it would have been. Maybe she was wrong…
He turned and cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, lingering on the scar he called her badge of courage before catching the tears that spilled from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Lucy. I never wanted to make you cry.”
“It’s not your fault or mine. We’re just at the wrong place in our lives.”
His sorrowful gaze traced over her features. “Do you think we’ll ever be in the right place?”
“I…I don’t know. I hope so but…” She licked her lips and forced herself to say the words she knew she needed to say. “I want you to be happy, Armand. So, if you find someone, someone who is in the right place in their life, I want you to—”
He pressed a finger to her lips and shook his head. “No. Don’t say this, Lucy.”
She kissed his finger, then took his hand in hers, inter-twining their fingers and holding them to her heart. “Armand, I’m trying to be realistic, to do the right thing even though it’s killing me inside. You deserve to be happy.”
“I don’t know if I can set you free like that.”
“It’s okay. I don’t want anyone else.” She reached up and stroked a stray curl from his cheek, felt the scratch of his beard one last time.
He turned, pressing a kiss her palm then traced her features with his lips. “You’re so beautiful, so kind and sweet and spirited. From the moment I saw you, I knew.” His forehead pressed to hers, his eyes shut, he took a ragged breath. “If you find someone, I want you to know, to remember…I…I loved you.” He pulled her into his arms, gave her a searing kiss, holding nothing back, molded her body so tightly to his they seemed one and then…he was gone.
Stunned, she stood there. Without his strong grip around her, she felt lost, weak, hardly able to breathe. She stumbled back, leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself trying to retain the warmth of his body as long as possible. She could still feel the light rasp of his stubble on her skin, smell the scent of his woodsy cologne. The taste of his mouth mixed with the saltiness of tears and she was sure she could still hear the faint rumble that always sounded in his chest.
If letting him go was the right thing to do, then why did it feel so wrong? Her heart was breaking into a gazillion pieces each sharp shard more painful than the last... He loved her. He’d said he loved her!
She should follow him.
Tell him she loved him, too. That…that….
She shook her head. Those three words had changed everything and nothing.
There was an indescribable pressure squeezing her chest. She struggled to breathe, to think. The world was swirling around her, the light being swallowed by an enormous dark cloud. Her legs no longer able to support her, she slid down the wall as a sob broke from her throat followed by another and then another until she was drowning in a puddle of sorrow.
Chapter 22
Roxi pounded up the stairs to the apartment. After her conversation with Dante the previous night, she’d headed to Club Mystique hoping to hear some rumours about what had gone down in the alley or even to learn more about this new subversive group. Instead, she’d met a guy on the way there. He’d been at the pizza place where she
’d stopped for a snack. With a love of pepperoni, green olives and extra cheese between them, it seemed a promising relationship and she’d ended up spending the night with him. He was nice, not a keeper, but an enjoyable way to pass the evening and part of the morning.
A smile on her lips, she rounded the last flight of stairs, only to slow when she saw the apartment door ajar. That was strange. Lulu was security crazy and Armand seemed the same way, always checking the windows and door.
Approaching cautiously, she cocked her head to the side, listening. There was a soft sound, a sniff and a hiccup followed by hitched breathing.
Lulu was crying!
She burst into the apartment only to trip over something or rather someone. It was Lulu, huddled on the floor, her face blotchy, her eyes swollen.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” She crouched down, completely flummoxed. Lulu had never been in a state like this before. “Where’s Armand?”
“Gone.” She choked out the word and wiped her face on the sleeve of her robe.
Roxi noticed the sleeve was already thoroughly stained with tears and so was its partner. The tissue box that usually sat on the entryway table was beside her, its contents now damp crumpled balls strewn about the floor.
“Armand’s gone? Why? Where?” She checked behind her into the hallway expecting to see him climbing the stairs. “Is he coming back?”
Her questions produced another bout of crying and indecipherable explanations, so she opted for pulling Lulu to her feet and leading her to the sofa. Next, she found more tissues, got her a glass of water and then sat beside her making comforting noises while trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She’d been sure the two would have spent the night having hot sex and making plans for the future. It seems she’d been wrong.
Eventually she figured out what was going on and shook her head. “Well that sucks.”
“I know.” Lulu dabbed at her face, completely cried out.
“If you both love each other, there should be a way to work things out, right?”
Veil of Lies Page 24