I hop out of my car and walk up to the guy holding a clipboard. “Cody Ridge,” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re early,” I say, bending over to untie my tennis shoes. “No shoes in the house, pads underneath the large pieces while moving indoors and please, for the love of all that is holy, be careful with the walls. It has new paint and floors,” I explain. “I’ll open the garage, the dimensions of the pieces require a larger opening.” He nods, looks at me like I’m some kind of freak, and speaks with the other three men off to the side.
“I do this for a living,” I say to his thick back. “I know how this operates!”
He turns around, quirks one brow, and says, “Yes ma’am,” then turns back around. The nerve of some people.
Huffing out in exasperation, I leave them to their business and unlock the doors with the keys I have from before. I sigh. That realization leaves a lump in my throat. Before. Gross. I push open the heavy door, take off my shoes, and the scent of Cody hits me like a baseball bat to the face—his cologne and the scent that mixes with the flavor of his body wash to create the most mouthwatering concoction of a scent. All of that is in the air taunting me, haunting me, reminding me of what I can no longer have. “It’s a man’s house. Of course it will smell like a man,” I say. Why does it have to remind me of so much? It looks as if he hasn’t been here in quite some time. It makes sense, though, he prefers the NYC apartment and it seems that’s where his new friend lives as well. I was the reason he was previously here so much. Standing perfectly still, I look around and let my mind wander back. Not just to last month, but back further, when we first fell in love under the stars in the middle of the night. His arms wrapped around me and I’d never felt so safe in my entire life. I felt like every glistening star could fall from the sky, but his skin covering mine would shield me from harm, shield me from everything the world could throw my way. At the time, I didn’t know that my love for him could destroy me completely. The innocence and purity of that moment gives me chills. That was the beginning of our love story. This, right here, is the end.
I close my eyes and savor that happy memory. I’ll always have our memories, no matter where life takes him—no matter where it takes me, either. These memories can be my new dirty, little secret. My phone buzzes in my purse, shaking me from my reverie. It’s my intel man. He’s been digging up information for me. I answer.
He speaks without saying hello first. “No, I’m not in the city. I will be, why?” I say.
His voice is muffled due to the technology he has that makes his calls untraceable. Shady business. “We’ve been talking and we think it’s safer if you head into the city. It’s more crowded. If anyone is looking for you, you’re a sitting duck in your large house by the water.” The movers start unloading furniture into the empty great room. I scrutinize their every single move.
Without taking my eyes off them I say, “Duh. Obviously I’m well aware of the basics of survival and evasion. I know how to disappear. Has something changed?”
I hear papers shuffling in the background. “Well, uh, there was your wedding announcement in the newspaper. That may not have been the best idea, Ms. Rosemont.”
Fuck. Dax. He’s clueless. I can’t get that irritated. I look at my watch. “Of course it wasn’t. I didn’t do that. I’m headed into the city this weekend for my bachelorette party anyways. I’ll stop by in a couple hours to pick up the tracking devices and cameras. Are they ready?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” I hang up the call. Heading toward the direction of the smell of new furniture, I round the corner and smack directly into a broad chest. That’s what I get for being distracted.
“Watch it,” I mutter. Then I realize it’s not one of the ungrateful slobs, it’s Cody.
My eyes widen and my heart kicks into gear. My palms are sweaty. This can’t be happening. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
“A little incredulous of a question, no? It’s my house, Lainey. The last time we spoke I got the impression you wanted to murder me. Setting my house on fire with the new additions might be high on your hit list, too,” Cody says, smiling and holding his arm out toward the new, gorgeous table. I admire it because it is fucking beautiful. “I wanted to help move my things into my house.” Rational, yet infuriating.
“Of course. Just making good on promises. I’ll let you handle it from here, Mr. Ridge,” I say. “If you’d let me know you were handling it, I wouldn’t have intruded.” If I knew he would be here, I would have dressed up, put on makeup. I would have actually done my hair instead of hanging it out my car window like a Labrador Retriever. There’s never anything wrong with showing him exactly what he doesn’t want anymore.
Cody shakes his head. “Thank you, Ms. Rosemont. Your services are most appreciated and of the highest caliber. How much do I owe you?”
I scoff. He raises one blond brow. “You were the one handling this with such professionalism. Do you make it a habit of working for free?” he asks.
“Closing this chapter of my life is payment enough, Cody.” My damn voice shakes. He’s so beautiful. Standing in front of me bronzed, smiling, like in my dreams. “I should go. Dax is waiting for me.” Now it’s Cody’s turn to scowl. “I hope you like everything.”
“You’re going to see Phillip. You’re not going to see Dax. Don’t lie to me. I heard you on the phone,” Cody replies, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s a bad idea, Lainey. What are you up to?”
“You have absolutely no right to know my business. How long were you being an eavesdropping snake?”
“Long enough.” He licks his lips. My gaze is immediately drawn to his mouth. “Don’t do this again,” he orders.
“Why do you even care?” I shout, throwing both of my arms up in the air. I get the grand gesticulations from my Russian side of the family. He catches my wrists and holds them lightly. I hate that his touch heats me everywhere.
He takes a step toward me, continuing to hold my arms. “I care.”
I shake my head. “Bullshit. You made it crystal clear that you don’t care.”
The fingers wrapped around my wrist aren’t so gentle anymore. He pulls me close to his body, grabs my waist, leans down, and lightly touches his lips against mine. It’s a kiss, but not really. It says I love you, but not really. It’s everything and nothing. I melt against him. It’s an uncontrollable response that confuses me to no end. I’m his puppet. As quickly as the embrace began, it ends. He steps back and away from me and turns around, facing his back to me.
I hear another voice, one that does not belong here, clearing his throat, and it causes me to jump into the air. My fiancé.
“I knew you’d be here. I read it in your planner when you were on the phone with your mother,” Dax says, standing at the edge of the hallway that attaches to the garage. What did he see? Oh, my God, what did he see? Maybe he saw nothing. Pull your shit together, Lainey. I give myself a mental pep talk.
I walk to him because that’s the proper thing to do if you’re not guilty and flash him my megawatt smile. “Yes. I’m just finishing up. Cody showed up unannounced, so he’s taking care of everything now.” I know he didn’t see anything. He’s assuming. Relief washes over me. I give Cody a contrived smile when he sees us standing together. “I’m finished with the job, happy with everything that’s arrived. I’m sure Cody is as well.” Keeping the professionalism alive when I feel like having a panic attack is difficult, but not something I’m incapable of. And Cody said that returning to my espionage roots was a bad idea. Psh.
“Brother,” Cody says, approaching both of us. He looks like a goddamned panther stalking prey—real, reassuring jerk. Your mouth wasn’t on mine a minute ago. Dax tenses beside me, readying for a fight. I have to shake my head. Sometimes men are so stupid and territorial. Cody and Dax are about the same size, and I’ve always known they look similar, but seeing them together is odd. Same builds, eye color, hair color, bad ass attitude, and
they’ve both been inside me. This meeting needs to get nipped in the bud, quickly. Cody extends his hand to Dax. “How are you? Lovely furniture your girl picked out, right?” Dax finally looks somewhere other than my face and Cody’s body.
“Yeah, it’s nice.” He takes Cody’s hand in his and shakes it firmly. “Looks like your deal is finished then, huh?” Dax asks me, but looks at Cody.
I’m confused. “Uh, yeah. Unless Cody sees something he doesn’t like or wants to change.”
“Something I want to change, you say? I think I do see something I want to change,” Cody mutters, Dax’s hand still in his.
“All right. All right. I don’t know what type of pissing contest you’re both engaged in, but I’m hungry. Let’s go get lunch, Dax. I have a million things to do before this weekend, Dax.” I say his name twice in hopes that he’ll pull himself from whatever testosterone driven hate fest is taking place. “And, Cody, you have my email. Send me a message if there’s anything you want to change.”
Dax spins to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I see Cody over Dax’s shoulder. He’s smiling like a lunatic. “The undertones are so glaring that they are now overtones. I’m not sure what you guys are talking about, but if Cody sees a table, or a piece of artwork, or perhaps an upholstered chair that he finds to be of bad taste, he may email me and I will exchange the said piece for him,” I say slowly. “Does that make sense to you, Dax Redding?”
He nods, looks at Cody, and then returns his gaze to me. “Cody, you’ll let me know?”
“Of course. Hey, do you have the time?” Cody replies, cocking his head to the side. His laser gaze is locked on my face. It’s so fierce and promising that it makes me uncomfortable in front of Dax. What must he think? We’ll need to have a long conversation about this. I’ll be reassuring him for the next week. It’s not really lying if even I myself don’t understand what it means. Cody didn’t say anything. He just almost kissed me.
I wrinkle my nose. He’s wearing a watch. I look at mine. “Eleven twenty,” I deadpan. Dax shifts his weight from foot to foot next to me. He’s antsy, wants to get away from here. Can’t say I blame him. I do, too. I’m confused and more heartbroken than ever. What does the almost kiss mean? Even if it meant something, does it matter at this point?
One of the employees walks by with a packing blanket. “Do you have the space for the bar on the other side of the dividing wall in the lounge?” Cody asks. The mover shrugs his shoulders and assures Cody that he’ll measure. Cody meets my gaze with narrowed, intelligent eyes. Dax storms off after mumbled goodbyes.
No one else picks up on it. Why would they? Time and space.
I swallow hard. I don’t know what else to say. “Good luck,” I whisper.
“I don’t need luck. I’ll see you soon,” Cody says, smiling.
My stomach does a flip-flop, spinning my morning coffee around in circles, making me feel sick to my stomach. For someone so hell-bent on not wanting me, he sure knows how to make a woman wonder. His words still wrap me tight. Marry him, Lainey. I don’t want you. We’re not going to work out. I can’t stop thinking about his lips against mine. And I shouldn’t because I hate him. He will pay for being so cruel.
I hate him.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Cody
“WRITE HER A song. Chicks love songs,” Maverick says, stretching his bulky arms above his head. Steve is off to the side, testing out my new bar, pouring more whiskey and bourbon into glasses than he has any right at four in the fucking afternoon.
I shake my empty glass with one large ice cube. “Songs only work for you, dude. Maverick Hart is the only man who can seal deals with lyrics. My voice sucks,” I reply. Maverick smiles that million-dollar smile and shrugs his shoulders. Smug bastard.
Steve walks by, refills my glass with high-end bourbon, and heads back to the bar. As he heads back he says, “I like your new bar and the new furniture. I’m sure Lainey does, too.” He cackles. They have jokes. They’re here to hang out because far too much time has passed and because I’m a fucking mess over Lainey and they sense it. Tough guys we may all be, but damn, women really do a number on us.
Mav picks up a throw pillow and tosses it from a chair onto the couch. “She’s the one who picked it out, moron. Give him woman advice. That’s what he needs. Morganna is like a damned piranha. You have to be able to tell him something about the perils and rapture of keeping a woman. It’s been too long for me.” I haven’t told them why Lainey and I aren’t together. I’m sure they can formulate their own ideas and reasons. Neither was too surprised when I told them she was still marrying Dax. They must hang out with him too and not tell me. They are still SEALs and I’m not. I’m the odd man out these days. It’s strange. I can’t even tell them about V and the intel Dax gave. It would get him in trouble. And as much as I’d love to see him rot in prison friendless and Lainey-less I’m not a rat. I’d never go back on my word. A promise is a fucking promise and all that.
Tossing another throw pillow off my couch and into the same chair, I say, “I don’t need advice. Women are a species better left to go wild and unexplored. Let them have their mystery. I just want to hang out with you. My coding takes up so much of my time that I forget to eat, let alone have fucking friendships.” I don’t count the dozen or so times per day I speak with Molly as friendship. Nor are the guys from RC counted as real friends. They are employees of my privately funded company. By privately funded I mean that my bank account rolls everything at Ridge Contracting. Within the next month or so it will be successfully independent and turning revenue.
I hear Steve stirring a drink and then he smacks his lips after the first sip. Maverick sits in one of my new chairs, tossing a smaller pillow in the air. It’s now that I realize there are far too many pillows in this room. They must go. “I need you to teach me how to do that techy shit. Morg would love it if I could stay at home more with her and the kid,” Steve says. He tosses his head back and forth as if considering something. “Nah, never mind, I don’t have the patience, but maybe you should take some time off from it? Make time for other stuff?”
“Do you have any idea how valuable this is?” I ask, tapping the side of my head with one finger. It’s ridiculous how much money you can make if you’re code inclined. I can develop software from nothing. I can formulate codes that program computers to diagnose blood tests. I can write apps and improve upon others’ mistakes. The skill I possess is invaluable. As long as the world is run by computers, I’ll maintain my wealth.
“How’s the other job going?” Mav asks. For a second I think he’s referring to a particular job. V. Then I remember he has no clue about the peculiar deal Dax and I made. He’s just curious about RC.
I sigh, take a sip of the honeyed liquid, and say, “It’s great. Taking out bad guys one at a time. You know all about that, though.” They both laugh. Steve joins me on my new overpriced sofa and puts his feet up on the coffee table.
“Your life is like a fucking dream, Cody Ridge,” Steve says. Is that how other people view me? It’s news to me. It’s more like a nightmare with dream like sections.
I smile. It’s weak. “I don’t have everything.” I don’t have her. I don’t have my lost years back. I will have peace soon enough, though. My pulse picks up its pace when I think about his death. The twisted part of my persona loves thinking about it. The average Joe that just wants his girl and a happily ever after cringes. One day I’ll be able to reconcile the two. “I miss the teams and you guys.”
Steve grabs high on my leg with a big hand. “If you wanted to make out all you had to do was ask. I missed you too, baby,” Steve says in a singsong girl’s voice. Maverick laughs.
“You know what I mean,” I reply, swigging the rest of my drink and putting my cup down on a coaster. Pushing Steve’s hand off my leg, I punch his thigh. “You’re so busy with Morg and the kid that you have no clue about the outside world. Does she let you take your balls out of the glass jar when you
leave the house?” I ask.
Maverick chimes in, “No. She keeps them on the top shelf of their kitchen. I’ve seen them.”
“Fuck you!” Steve says. “She does things with my balls that should be in the record books. My big ass balls are right here between my legs. If they were in the kitchen they’d be covered with chocolate frosting getting tongued.”
“Fucking sick, dude,” I say, wrinkling my nose. Kitchen play has never been my thing. “I’m sorry I brought it up. What about you?” I say, raising my chin in Maverick’s direction. “You have like a million spawn running around. Does Windsor even leave your bedroom?”
Maverick stands up, stretches his hands over his head, and lets them fall by his sides. His face morphs into one of complete and utter happiness. “Windsor,” he says. It’s a prayer, a name said just because he likes the sound as it rolls off his tongue. “I’ll never get enough of that woman. Just two kids, not a million. If I had it my way, though? She’d be barefoot and pregnant for the rest of our lives. Maybe even when we’re old and gray.”
“Jesus, that’s even more repulsive than chocolate frosting. Is this what happens when you get married? You lose your minds and your ability to determine what’s hot and what’s not? You guys are getting up in the years.” I throw a pillow at Mav to wipe the weird ass smirk off it. He tosses it back, laughing.
“Only if you’re lucky, bro. Only if you’re lucky,” Maverick says. His expression softens and his smile vanishes. “Are you going to their wedding?”
I swallow. Steve shifts beside me on the couch. “Question of the hour. Dax is a good guy, yeah?” I ask. Knowing what they’ll say, I only say the words to buy myself time. I don’t want to talk about her. It makes me upset and with a few drinks in me, I’m half in the mind to call her and tell her exactly why she shouldn’t marry the asshole. “He has to be if she’s with him,” I say, mostly for my own benefit.
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