by Heidi McVay
Scarlett closed her eyes as he pushed the cup of coffee into her hands. He’d been gentle, he’d been sweet, and he’d been fierce. She’d never been in bed with a man who made her feel like he had. Zarek had somehow made her feel as if he were worshiping her body, from head to toe. She gripped the mug, then felt the mattress give way as he held his own mug and reached to prop the pillows up against the headboard. He never even spilled a drop as he turned and took a seat, knees bent as he grinned at her again.
“Good morning.” The words were a low rumble as she felt his hand snake around her body, low around her hips, gently coaxing her into his side. Scarlett was frozen, but Zarek didn’t seem to notice as he took a sip of his coffee and then bowed his head, lips brushing over her shoulder lightly. First one, and then another, then the curve of her neck. Tingles erupted inside her as she realized that he seemed perfectly fine with this new dynamic.
Unexpectedly, heat burst open inside her, and when his voice came again, it was an amused chuckle against her cheek. “No freaking out until after the first cup of coffee. Okay?”
For some reason, his words actually did calm her. Scarlett felt Zarek move away slightly, and his arm around her tightened. She nodded and lifted the coffee to her lips. Even now, after two years without a word to one another, the man had remembered how she took it. “You know how I like my coffee?”
When Scarlett dared to glance at him, he was grinning lazily; his eyes focused on her entirely. “Of course I do. I remember everything about you, Scar.” It was then that she realized his fingers were moving, an idle pattern over her hip. He was silent for a moment before he changed the subject, out of nowhere. “So, when I woke up this morning, I had an idea. I’m going to explain it, and I need you to remember that you promised you aren’t going to freak out until after your first cup of coffee.”
“I didn’t promise anything.” Scarlett retorted, and then took another sip as she shifted ever so slightly, angling her body away from Zarek’s to see him better and to get away from those clever fingers that managed to threaten her resolve. “But, I’m listening.”
Zarek was quiet, studying her intently before he finally cleared his throat, and a grin spread over his handsome face slowly, as though he were confirming some decision she wasn’t privy to. “We don’t have to pick up Evie until after lunch. I thought we could go get some breakfast, then maybe go to the strip. There’s this funky little chapel there. It might be fun. Elvis. Pink Cadillac.”
Scarlett lifted the mug to her lips and had just swallowed a sip of coffee when his words sank in. Oblique and backhanded and completely insane. She lifted her head, mouth open like a fish as she stared in mute horror. He held up one hand, speaking quickly. “You’re freaking out. It’s okay. It’s fine. Just take a second to process it. When you think about it, you’ll see it’s the perfect plan.”
Horror turned to the beginnings of panic. He was talking about marriage. When Zarek reached out, he pushed her chin upward, closing her mouth and continued, his words coming in a rush. “There’s no waiting period. It’ll be spontaneous and romantic, Scar. You hate weddings; you hate dressing up. You can just wear jeans or shorts or whatever. We’ll get some pancakes, and then we’ll get married, and then we’ll go for a nice lunch or walking along the strip until we have to pick up Evie. Or even get a room. We can do whatever you want afterward, but it’s perfect. No pressure, no big wedding, our families don’t have to know anything until we’re ready.” He paused for a moment and then continued as if he had struck on the most brilliant plan in the world. “I have to be back in Greece in a few days, but we can ask Jesse to go to your place in Colorado to pack your things up. You’ll come to Greece with Evie and me. It’s perfect, Scar!”
Her chest tightened as she stared at him, unable to keep her expression steady. Her heart was racing, and she wasn’t sure whether it was joy or anger, or maybe a little bit of both. Zarek, her Zarek was proposing marriage in the least romantic, most practical way possible. This man got her on so many levels. Ridiculously, the fact that he was suggesting a wedding like it was dinner at a McDonald’s drive-through made her laugh suddenly. He was still mid-sentence when he registered that she was laughing.
Scarlett bowed her head, unable to contain the giggles. Zarek went silent, and when she glanced up at him, his expression was clearly confused. “Want to clue me in on what’s so funny, sweetheart?” Scarlett was unable to breathe as the giggle fit just grew worse. She was angry. She was livid. Her heart was about to burst with the ache of her anger as she gripped the coffee mug in one hand and buried her face in her other to hide her expression. He was ripping her apart all over again like it was nothing… like she was nothing. Zarek sounded almost helpless as he tried again. “Well. I guess we could tell our mothers.” And suddenly, they were no longer giggles.
It was giddy laughter that flowed through her as she finally broke down, trying to force out the words. “You really are something, Zarek McCall. No other man would try to convince me to marry him and use pancakes as a bargaining chip. You are really good. I have to admit that. You’re good. You’re crazy. You’re out of your fucking mind, and so am I.”
Zarek stared at her for a moment, and then cautious hope flared to life in his eyes once more. The beginnings of a boyish grin tipped up the corners of his lips. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a no.” Scarlett raised her mug to him in a mock toast. “That’s a ‘hell no’ and a ‘go fuck yourself’ all wrapped up in one.” The joy and pleasure of the night before were now gone in the face of harsh reality as the hurt burst forth anew. She drained the rest of the coffee and wrapped the sheet around herself, forcing herself to ignore the sudden panic and confusion on Zarek’s face as she reached for her phone.
“Baby, what’s happening here?” Zarek’s words were low as he shifted, watching her as she unplugged her phone and opened up the Uber app.
“What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer him as her fingers flew over the screen, requesting the ride, and she turned for her bag, lifting it and pulling out clean clothes.
She needed a shower, but she needed to get out of here even more. Zarek watched her in silence, his expression baffled, but growing ever darker, ever more thunderous as he watched her yank on a pair of clean underwear and jeans. It was when she had taken a seat on the bed that he seemed to realize what was happening. “Sweetheart, you have to talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to say.” She interrupted him as she yanked on socks and shoved her feet into her sneakers. “You know, you almost had me convinced. I almost believed that you were really in love with me. God, I’m so fucking stupid.”
Scarlett rose to her feet once more and began to make a loop of the room, tossing her clothing into the bag with no regard for what was clean, what was dirty, or what was really even hers. “It would have been one thing to just fuck me. I can deal with being a casual fuck. But then you had to go and ruin it by pretending to actually love me. It’s cruel. You used my feelings against me to get what you want, and I’m not sure who’s worse. You for doing it, or me for falling for it.”
Zarek rose from the bed, crossing the space to stand before her. As she glanced past him toward the wall, she realized that their coffee mugs were on the nightstand, right beside each other—a picture of domestic doom. Scarlett drew in a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain that was beginning to rise up. She’d let herself believe, just for a second, that he’d meant what he’d said. His hands wrapped around hers, and his voice was tight with confusion and frustration. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I need you to talk to me, baby.”
“Don’t do that.” She jerked away from him, pulling her hands from his with enough force that he flinched. “Don’t call me baby. Don’t call me sweetheart. Don’t propose marriage to me. Don’t act like anything’s changed. I’m not going to suddenly pack my shit up and run away to Greece to raise your kid just because you’ve decided I’m useful to you all of a sudden.
You don’t get to sleep with me one time, and then pretend you love me. Stop trying to convince me to give up everything to give you what you want. You don’t get to use my feelings for you, which I see that you’ve clearly known about all along, to get why you want.”
Zarek’s eyes were narrowed on her now, understanding morphing to anger. He drew himself up to his full height. “Are you telling me that you think I want to marry you to have a babysitter?”
“I don’t know why you’re doing it, but I do know you’re full of shit. You ignore me for two years and then only call me when you need something. And now, suddenly, after one night, you want me to turn my entire life upside down because it’s what you want. You tell me you won’t hurt me again, but you lack the most basic respect for me. You act like I should put my entire life on hold because that’s what you want. You want. You want. You want.” For the first time in years, she was yelling. The anger had broken free, a damn bursting, and finally, Scarlett directed her rage where it belonged.
Zarek’s face twisted in a wave of anger so dark it should have scared her. “Scarlett, you’re being ridiculous. I want to marry you because I lo-”
She lifted a hand and shook her head, cutting him off. “Shut up. You just shut up. You don’t know what love is. You don’t get to use that word, not with me. I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And when I finally gave myself a chance to believe, for a little while, that you felt the same way, you just used it. Like you used me. Like you want to keep using me.” She pushed her phone into her pocket and lifted her bag, tossing it over her shoulder, not even caring that it wasn’t zipped. The only thing that mattered was getting away from here, away from the man who was now glaring at her as if he hated her. And of course, he did. She’d called him on the bullshit. “I can’t believe I nearly fell for it. You really are a very good actor, Zarek. A horrible human being, but a damn good actor.”
She saw his face fall at those words and his hand move, reaching out to catch her by the arm. His touch was still gentle, even though his words were carefully calculated, tearing at her heart as he no doubt intended them to. “You said you’d stay. You promised… this week… you promised. Please don’t do this.”
“Go to hell.” Scarlett shook her head, jerking away from him again. This time, he didn’t try to stop her as she headed through the little kitchen and toward the door, slamming it behind her for good measure.
*
Zarek flinched as the door slammed closed behind Scarlett with such force that he feared the glass shattering. He stood there in the bedroom, his heart pounding with adrenaline and anger. No, not anger. Rage. He was livid. He raked a hand through his hair and reached for the first thing he could lay his hands on. Zarek lifted the coffee mug, still half full, and hurled it against the wall with all his strength. It didn’t even have the manners to shatter; it simply splattered the rest of his coffee onto the wall like a blood spatter pattern, and then clunked to the floor. Zarek bared his teeth and roared his rage. She’d not only turned him down, but she’d also flat-out laughed at him. He’d poured his heart out to her, he’d taken the biggest risk of his life, laid himself bare, and she’d stripped him of any lingering dignity. In typical Scarlett fashion, that acid tongue had spared him nothing.
He spun and kicked at the wall, then winced as the acidic burst of pain shot through him. Zarek dropped onto the bed, reaching for his injured big toe to rub it absently as he bowed his head. His heart still beat wildly inside his chest as the emotions that had been numb for so long bolted through him, uncontrollable and raw. Agony. His world was now broken apart in ways it hadn’t been before, not even the first time he’d left Scarlett there in her apartment. Confusion mingled with the anger as the haze of that initial outburst of emotion began to abate. Zarek tried to sift through her words but found nothing he could understand.
She was genuinely angry, but more than that, the bitterness in her voice had been hurt. He knew all too well that when Scarlett was hurting, she wrapped that hurt in anger because at least anger could be spent. Hurt could never be purged. Zarek’s head dropped as her words replayed in his mind. She was upset that he had said he wanted so much.
But of course, he did. He wanted everything, all of it. He wanted a home with Scarlett. He wanted babies with Scarlett. He wanted to wake up every morning to her body aligned with his, warm and sweet. It had been like waking up to the home he’d never known he really needed. Needed. It wasn’t want. It was need. It was a bone-deep need. He’d needed Scarlett for years and denied that need. But he hadn’t used that word. He’d not used the right word. But why couldn’t she see that? Why couldn’t she just understand that being together was the only possible solution to the ache that would last a lifetime if they were apart?
Zarek stared at the wall where the coffee still dripped down, puddling on the floor. She’d said she loved him. She was in love with him. Those words should have made Zarek’s heart soar. And instead, it was just another mess to clean up. Another mess in an endless string of them. Mistake after mistake with no end in sight. How had he fucked up his life so completely?
Chapter Eleven
Sylvia McCall placed the coffee pot down on the table on the deck, taking a seat across from Beth Landry. Beth reached for the pot and filled both the mugs while Sylvia reached up to kick the ceiling fan up another notch. It wouldn’t do a lot to help with the heat, but it would at least give the illusion of being cooler. When she took a seat, Beth spoke without prompting. “Zarek was a wreck.”
“Your girl ain’t much better.” Sylvia reached for the mug of hot coffee, an illogical choice for August in Louisiana when it was still ninety-five degrees at eight pm. “But the plain fact is that this whole thing blew right the hell up.”
Beth gave a low sound of annoyance. “Zarek’s usually a smart boy, but sometimes, Syl, I swear his cornbread ain’t done in the middle.” Sylvia snorted at the analogy and burst into laughter, earning herself a sharp look from her friend. “I’m serious. We have to do something.”
Sylvia sobered slightly and nodded. “I’m not sure what’s left to do, short of going to California and smacking some sense into him. But I would point out that in this case, it’s actually not all his fault. I mean, mostly his fault, yea. But not entirely.”
The two women looked at one another before Beth sighed heavily. “Yeah, I gotta give you that one. Scarlett’s a pain in the ass.”
“Beth Landry! That’s your daughter!” Sylvia pretended to be aghast, but couldn’t quite keep the twinkle of amusement from her eyes.
The unusual friendship between the women had blossomed slowly over the years. It had been slow at first until the kids were teenagers. They’d started having coffee as a way to cope with moody teens and discovered that despite their differences, they got along well. It had been a solid friendship since.
Beth never failed to surprise Sylvia with the wicked sense of humor she occasionally caught glimpses of. Like now, when Beth shook her head. “Exactly. I’m her Momma, that’s why I can say it. I love the girl, but she’s a huge pain in the butt. And God bless Zarek’s heart for loving her so hard all the years; we can’t let this be it. There is literally no other man on the face of God’s green Earth that would put up with her shit.”
Sylvia’s mouth dropped open at the crass language. Beth never cursed. Southern Baptist to her proper little core, she’d only heard Beth Landry use that kind of language once in her life, and that had been when Zarek had accidentally backed over her mailbox the second week he’d had his driver’s permit. “Careful, Beth, or I’ll start thinking I’m a bad influence.”
“That’s because you are a bad influence. But that’s a conversation for another time. Right now, we need a plan, Syl.” Beth reached for the coffee cup, and as she did, Sylvia began to rethink the wisdom of adding caffeine to Beth’s system when she was already on the verge of a full-blown hissy fit.
“Well, I do have a lot of frequent flier miles saved up. I guess we could j
ust…I don’t know… go see them.” It was a weak suggestion, and one that made her feel like her own mother had once been. Interfering, nosy, and never letting up. But, when your son was thirty fucking years old and still managing to mangle the simplest thing in the world, like telling a woman he loved her without sending her running half-way across the country, sometimes you had to be exactly that.
Beth’s forehead furrowed into a frown of consideration. “Well, Scarlett has asked why I’ve never visited her in Colorado before.”
“And I did get Abasi that Groupon for overnight deep sea fishing when he got here last week.” At those words, her friend’s brows rose in question. Sylvia explained quietly. “I hate fishing, I was hoping…” Sylvia leaned forward, suddenly struck by the brilliance of her burgeoning plan. “You know, this might work. I haven’t told Zarek about the engagement. It’s the perfect excuse to go visit him. We can send Joe and Abasi on the fishing trip. I’ll go to LA; you go to Denver. Let’s go and talk some sense into those morons.”
Instantly, she knew that Beth agreed as she saw the brunette woman’s eyes narrow. “That could work. But what if we just piss them off and make it worse?”
Sylvia waved a hand, brushing off the concern. “How could we make it any worse? What are they gonna do? Stop talking again?”
“They could stop talking to us. That would definitely make it worse.” Beth pointed out as she lifted her mug but leaned forward to brace her elbows on the table. “What do you think the weather’s like in Colorado this time of year?”
Sylvia slapped her palm down on the tabletop, causing Beth to jump. “Does it matter?”