“I hope I didn’t step on anyone’s toes,” Andy rushed, his voice sounding afraid, as he rambled out an even more awkward apology, “I just…since knowing that I’m—well rich—you’ve never asked me for anything. People always want something when they find out—but you never asked—not for anything. And I…I wanted you to. I wanted to get you something.”
On top of feeling stupid for having swooned over her best friend’s compliment, now the redhead felt terrible for making him suspect that she was somehow angry with him. Evie had been—for making her feel these weird awkward and totally not-cool things for him—but that was her fault, not his.
His green eyes went white, as his mouth turned down at the corners. In a spluttering panic, he ranted, “Connie’s mad! Oh, man, I don’t stand a chance.”
Evie snorted a laugh.
Andy smiled and gave an anxious laugh himself. It mirrored her own, ending with a snort as he brought his forehead down on her shoulder. His hands squeezed her elbows, and Evie chuckled, as she ruffled his blond waves.
“I was just surprised. It’s the most…elaborate friend-gift I’ve ever received.” Evie replied, now that the tension had been snort-laughed away.
Andy flushed, looking abashed. He see-sawed his head, offering chastely, “I wanted to make up for the whole…I’m a big-fat-liar-thing.”
“You already did,”
“Apologizing wasn’t good enough. I still felt bad.”
“Well, will it make you feel better if I tell you that I love it, and it was too generous?”
Andy looked relieved, and his whole body relaxed, as he gave her elbows another squeeze and admitted, “As long as Connie isn’t going to kick my ass.”
Evie gave him a patronizing tight-lipped grin. Then she wrinkled her nose and admitted, “He would, but I won’t let him.”
Andy’s eyes narrowed skeptically at her. In a thin voice, he accused, “He doesn’t even know, does he?”
Evie gave a short chuckle, “It won’t matter.”
“Have you seen the size of those fists? Crickey! I’m not sure I want to just take your word for it.” He joked, making a show of giving a panicked look over both of his shoulders, making her laugh again. “A knuckle sandwich from that guy will probably be the last sandwich I ever eat.”
Their little interlude was interrupted as Blake Carter gave the Aussie a jab to the ribs, forcefully grabbing his attention. “Oy! When’s this launch getting started then, mate?”
“Just about that time,” Andy gave a quick response before he excused himself from her, and the two men fell into an easy conversation, leaving together.
Evie also noticed Mara on the arm of her optometrist friend, following the actor to the main banquet hall. She certainly didn’t look like a jealous ex-wife out for revenge by having a cute new man on her arm. The way she looked at Takashi was a little too convincing. They looked well matched.
This left a resonate welling in the pit of her stomach.
Evie had not heard from Connie yet. In previous relationships, this would have raised all kinds of alarm bells of her. With her designer, it was just accepted. She had come to understand this was the Scot’s MO. He only texted when necessary and similarly would only contact her when he needed her. He was already at the venue, somewhere. Becca had confirmed as much when she and Serena had arrived on site. Evie didn’t have the time then to track him down and see how he was handling the pressure of the ostentatious event, but she did now.
Evie tidied up her tools and set out to find Connie, so she could let him know how excited and proud she was. She checked all of the open spaces, the outside hall, the entranceway and then looped back.
Evie came back to Becca and Serena and stopped to admire how adorable the couple was. They were busy adjusting promo signs and material, Becca in a deep-plum dress that complimented her girlfriend’s silver-blue princess-cut. They worked seamlessly, making sure every detail of the night was checked twice as the guests began to trickle in.
When Evie stopped them, neither had seen Connie recently. Becca assured Evie that the Scot was dressed to impress and was excited.
Mara caught Evie, ordering her to round up Connie to greet early arriving guests. She claimed to have glimpsed Connie heading down a staff corridor and sent Evie in the right direction. The staff corridors were darker than the main hallways, an effective dissuasion for guests to steer clear. As the redhead went deeper down the narrowed passageway, she caught the scents of roast meats and savoury sides, eventually ending up at a kitchen. A shocked attendant turned her back, and after finding a maintenance room, and several locked doors, Evie reluctantly gave up her search.
No bid deal, she encouraged, as she slowly made her way back to the launch, He’s probably making last-minute arrangements with the frame displays or reconsidering someone’s frame choice.
Evie knew that Mara would not be pleased to see her return empty-handed. If Connie was not already inside the banquet room, she was going to get a lecture.
Then a velvety voice caught her attention.
“…so proud of you,”
Evie stopped when another hallway branched off from the one she was following. There was light coming from a half-open doorway down an adjacent hall, and then she remembered. This was where the frame displays were being stored. Connie must be prepping them to be wheeled out and unveiled during the upcoming presentation.
“…not as though any of this could have happened,” She heard another voice reply.
That was most certainly her designer! That deep timbre sent goosebumps down the back of her neck and arms.
Evie felt her chest swell with excitement. She had found him! She could give him that kiss and wish him good luck before his big debut! Evie stepped towards the door, her heart tittering, as she heard him finish, “if it had’nea been for you.”
Evie came around the corner, peering into the little room…and froze.
Caught in suspense, she watched as dark curls were brushed back, and gentle hands cupped a strong jawline. Connie’s dark lashes fluttered closed as a sandy-blond head inclined closer. When their mouths pressed together, lips sweet with longing and eager with lust, Evie felt her ribcage implode.
19
Evie felt as though she was trapped inside a black hole.
Time stood still. Her vision pin-holed, blurred by the ambient light in the small storage room, as the two men shared a greedy, needy passion, surrounded by his frames.
Connie was seated on the edge of one of the displays. His legs spread as the other man leaned in, their bodies pressed close together in a familiar embrace. Like this, with their heads close, Ian was level with his mate, as he gently cupped his face. She could see Connie’s large hands gripping the other man’s hips, firmly anchoring the couple together, as though one of them might float away if they weren’t attached.
Ian’s stormy eyes were calm and serene. His lids were half-mast as he peered into the other man’s face.
Connie’s eyes were brilliant, enamoured, as he said those words, ‘if it had not been for you.’
When the tips of their noses brushed, before their mouths met, Evie felt something different from what tore through her in its wake. Seeing them like this, she had dejectedly thought, of course, they fit perfectly together.
It was but a moment before the painful discovery snapped her ribs, stopped her beating heart, and crushed her windpipe. It was an all-consuming ravage that left her breathless and dizzy.
Just take a damn breath, you idiot, Evie heard her auto-piloted self cry out, you’re not breathing! You’re going to pass out. Breath, dammit!
It took more effort than it should have. To let the air held in her lungs escape. Once it was gone, her body naturally sucked in another hissed breath, desperate for the oxygen. The sound was small, even though her chest had heaved with the motion of it.
It was still enough.
The dark eyelashes flashed open. Those brilliant eyes were now ablaze. At first, with rage and th
en with something much, much worse. Fear. His body reacted too. His hands roughly pushed the other man away. His hulking body lurched upright onto his feet, robotic and unnatural, as Connie did exactly what Mara had said he would. Deny. Deny. Deny.
Ian, now alerted to her presence, was not as forthcoming with shame. The push had sent him only a step backward, where he now firmly held his ground. Those stormy grey-blue eyes wasted only a moment on the intruder, before glancing back into the tense face of his mate.
The pain in Evie’s chest had leeched out to the ends of her limbs. It scrabbled up her throat, cloyingly forcing its way into her mouth, nearly making her gag and vomit. Her vision bounced between the two faces before her, unsure where to land. The edges misted and blurred, tunnelling, as her heart pounded, and her racing thoughts peeled away to a single animalistic instinct.
Run.
“Evie, wait!”
The panicked tremor in her designer’s voice kept her feet rooted, unable to respond to the firing call of her emotionally overloaded nervous system.
Connie’s dark head dipped with remorse, as he pleaded, “Just let me…explain…”
Evie’s pin-holed vision found his face. Searching his every crease, every plane, every feature. She wanted to believe him. Every fibre of her being wished desperately for him to make his case so she could rush into his arms and vindicate it. But his brows were creased together in a grimace.
The words wouldn’t come.
Watching the vein pulsate near his temple, as Connie strained to come up with reasonable evidence to present, Evie felt the familiar sharp prick of her tear ducts threatening to react. Mortified by her body’s predictable response to the crisis, the redhead gave in to her instinct’s calls. She pivoted on her heel, and in a fluttering ruffle of thick navy fabric, she made her exit.
Evie raced away, wrinkling her nose and gnashing her teeth together to keep from crying. Wanting to melt into a simpering puddle of rage and foolish pity, she balled her fingers into fists and gnashed her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from sobbing.
She was so hot, her blood must be boiling. It charged through her like super-heated magma burning its way out. As it burst free of the body that encapsulated it, Evie felt her feet skid to a stop.
Her thoughts were a tumultuous blur. They were too numerous and emotionally charged to be coherent. Yet one recurring sentiment seemed to rise above the barrage, firm in its need to be asserted. Ah, hell, no! I’m not going to let him get away with it like this! I took this kind of shitty send-off before, I am sure as hell am not going to go through it again! Not after all I’ve done for him and Thistle.
With new conviction, Evie spun back around and marched her way back into the room. The two men were startled apart once more by her stomping entrance, having the audacity to look bewildered and uneasy.
That’s all I was to him? He couldn’t even feel guilty about groping his best friend for more than two minutes?!
The redhead’s focus zeroed in on Connie, whose face was guilt-stricken and red. Evie wouldn’t buy his act this time. He had out-right lied when she had confronted him about the possibility that Ian was more than just a mate. And he had done it with ease.
Folding her arms across her chest, Evie raised her chin in challenge.
“I think I am owed an explanation,”
Her eyes darted threateningly from Connie to his sandy-haired boy-toy, as she finished, “and if he can’t give me one, then I at least expect something from you!”
Connie tried to take a staggered step forward towards her, as though he could wrap her in his muscly embrace and squeeze her until this all went away. That ship had sailed.
A strong arm shot out and held Connie back. Even though Ian was smaller than his counterpart, he held the designer fast. “No,” he pressed firmly, glancing meaningfully at the other man, before back at Evie.
Ian’s features were not enraged or even annoyed. The storm still raged within the depths of his eyes, magnified by the denim-colour of the frame, but they were earnest. He finished his prior order, “She’s right. We’ve run from this for too long.”
At the sound of those words, Connie’s head bobbed up, his face transitioning from conscious-stricken to utter-distress.
“She deserves to know, Connie.”
Damn, Evie thought sourly, the boyfriend-thief is on my side.
Connie’s eyes were dull. They darted from Evie’s simmering glare back to his smoochy-faced boyfriend’s patronizing glower. He looked like a cornered animal, ears slicked back, frantically panting, as he checked the room for exits. After a moment of hesitation, the Scot cleared his throat and attempted to construct a more dignified stance. Evie watched his teeth worry the inside of his cheek and his hands wring a half dozen times before he finally managed a croaking explanation that fell flat on its face. “Emm…it was an accident.”
Evie’s brows dropped another degree over her eyes. Her head cocked to the side, and her lip curled in disgusted incredulity. Her wit returned, as she loftily inquired in a sourly pleasant tone, “Oh? You mean to tell me that you slipped and fell into each other? Multiple times? Or just this once?”
Evie caught Ian bite the side of his mouth, no doubt to keep an amused grin at bay, which only stoked her fire. He wasn’t allowed to laugh at her well-timed sarcastic retaliation! He was as much to blame for all this as Connie was.
Yet, Ian was quick to assert his previous stance on how this situation was to be handled. He knocked an elbow against the back of Connie’s ribs. The blow was hard enough to make the taller man jerk forward, earning him a petulant scowl from the hulk. Ian wasn’t going to falter under that austere expression.
“Tell her the truth.” He ordered the mouth he had just been kissing.
The dark head of the designer—no longer her designer—turned apprehensively back. It was bowed, hunkered down between the hulking shoulders of his dark suit jacket like he was a giant five-year-old stubbornly avoiding admitting his mistake. He gave a withering sigh, cleared his throat again, and attempted a second explanation.
This one was the lame and cliché, “It’s complicated…”
Evie was in no mood to wait for this negligible segway. Brusquely, she cut him off and acidly reminded the deceitful cheater, “Actually, it looks quite simple from my angle.”
Evie let this slam, slap him hard across the face. She felt vindicated by his shocked surprise. Then, when he finally tried to sputter a rebuttal, she waspishly condemned, “You lied to me!”
This blow must have left a mark, for Connie was much more animated now, as he quickly tried to rebuke her stinging accusation. “Well, not exactly…”
Before Evie could object, Connie was reeling from a swift cuff to the back of his head. He looked as betrayed as he had left her feeling, as his eyes met with Ian’s.
Evie didn’t feel sorry for him. He obviously deserved it and needed some sense knocked into that block of his. His eyes danced about the floor, avoiding her, as that five-year-old now looked embarrassed and abashed.
“Okay,” he eventually sighed, his voice quiet and earnest this time. He squeezed his eyes shut as he begrudgingly admitted, “yer right. I lied.”
Pausing to swallow hard, he added with chagrin, “That was very….very wrong of me. I should have just been honest with you from the start.”
Evie felt her rage slowly trickle away as she finally heard him confess. Connie did look remorseful. What remained still was the raw, aching pain of the betrayal. Knowing what she did of the two men’s history, she could draw only one conclusion: she had been played by Connie from the very first night.
Evie had been his cover. Connie’s way of continuing to deny to himself, and everyone else, that he was in love with a man. Precisely what Mara had tried to caution her about.
What she didn’t understand was why her? Had she just been in the wrong place at the right time? A convenient girl to take for a whirl? In her struggle to conceptualize and compartmentalize the emotions that floode
d her nervous system and electrified her neural pathways, the thoughts came barreling out of her mouth, without forethought or filter, like shots recklessly fired in the heat of the fight.
“Was any of it real? A single part? Did you even want to be with me? Or was I just a convenient shield to guard against your true feelings for him?”
As these half-formed rapid-fire questions left her lips, the memories of the times they had shared enticed by one another’s closeness and touch, flashed through her mind’s eye like a kaleidoscope of want and need and urgency. They were even more palpable now, the knowledge that all of it had been done within the construct of a lie. Knowing this amplified the memory's power to control her body and mind. It left her feeling helpless, and she mourned the loss of the beautiful fictitious love affair her treasonous mind and body had crafted out of what Connie had tricked her with.
One of those memories, the one which she had held onto so fervently in the early budding of her lust for the man, haunted her cruelly at that moment. The ghostly hot whisper of his touch, his large hot palms and strong fingers questing over her body drove the wedge that pierced the middle of her chest deep enough to nick her aorta. She began to bleed out.
“Did we even sleep together…or did you stage that too?”
It was out between the three of them, a foul stinking thing that made them all grimace.
Evie had never been able to recall more than a vague half-formed memory of that night with Connie after their serendipitous introduction at The One Horned Mare. What she could remember had always been a heady tonic that made her stomach crawl with desire. Now, she wasn’t even sure she hadn’t dreamed it all up.
Connie had probably just gone through the motions, waiting for her to pass out, so he didn’t have to follow through. Simple enough trick. All he had to do to convince her, was just making sure they were both undressed come morning. If she was confident that they were frantically attracted to one another, then he would have successfully have deployed his hetero-guise to repel his attraction to Ian.
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