by Liz Lovelock
I do want to spend time with him. “Sure.”
“Perfect. Well, I’ve breakfast cooking downstairs, so come eat when you’re ready.” He rises and appears reluctant to leave. He turns toward the door, then stops and faces me again. “Thank you for doing this.”
I smile. “Not a problem.” I almost choke on my words because it is a problem. After last night and being around his family, I don’t want to hurt them.
“See you soon.” He winks and leaves.
I shoot a quick message to Adele.
Me: Keeping you updated. I’m going to spend some time with Kane today. I’m not sure if this is a good idea or not. When he asked me, I couldn’t say no. I wanted to spend time with him. Should I do a runner?
Within seconds, she replies.
Adele: There’s no harm in spending time with him. You do have to get used to being together given the whole situation.
Me: I know. I only worry that I’m giving in to feelings that shouldn’t feel this real. Do you know what I mean?
Adele: Stop overthinking. Take today and try to enjoy his company. He could be a completely different person to who you remember.
Me: I already know there are things about this that are different. I wonder if he’s going to be sleeping with other girls while I’m playing his fiancée.
Adele: You’re doing it again—overthinking. Stop talking to me and go talk to him.
Me: FINE!
I place my phone back on the bedside table, and I’m left sitting in silence. Lifting the blankets, I see the large shirt comes to mid-thigh. Damn, I need some pants. Scrambling from between the royal-feeling sheets, I take in the room. The cupboard doors grab my attention, and I go right for it. Grabbing the small golden knobs, I pull the doors open. It’s full of clothes. Girls’ clothes. Do these belong to his sister?
Stepping into the spacious walk-in closet, my fingertips glide through different outfits. There are dresses to suit more occasions like last night. A tag is still on one. My hand flies to my mouth when the price flashes my way. Who in their right mind would spend $2,000 on a dress? Callie has some good taste.
My eyes finally land on something I’d be comfortable wearing—sky-blue sweats. I tug them over my little legs, and they fit perfectly. Coming back into the bedroom, I scan the area for my bra. My girls are hanging freely, and if I were in my own apartment, I wouldn’t care, but here, with Kane, the girls need restraining. The little piece of material is nowhere in sight. Going back into the closet, I dig around in some drawers. More items with tags on them jump out at me. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be checking those. Finally, I find a simple sports bra. I strip off my shirt and put the bra on. Kane’s familiar musk scent hits me as I put the shirt back on. Butterflies swarm my stomach.
“Settle the hell down. Nothing more is going to happen,” I whisper to myself like a crazy person.
When I step out of the bedroom, I’m overwhelmed. The place isn’t as big as the house I was in last night. This is simpler, yet elegant. There are two closed doors to my right and another on my left with a staircase heading to the ground floor. The carpet massages my aching feet. Note to self—never wear high heels again.
As I make my way down the stairs, the smell of bacon hits me. My mouth waters, and my stomach grumbles at the same time. I follow the scent around the corner. My eyes pop. Kane is cooking bare-chested in a large fancy kitchen. He moves around the area with such grace.
“When did you learn to cook?”
His head flicks up at my question. He goes back to cracking eggs into a frying pan. “I have many hidden talents that I chose not to display in college, you know. It wouldn’t have been cool.” He shrugs. After making my way to a stool, I slide on and take in the view—one that makes my stomach forget it’s hungry for food.
I rest my elbow on the white stone countertop, my chin dropping into my hand. “That’s right. You were too cool for a lot of things back then.”
“Oh, ouch.” He clutches at his pec over his heart, pretending to be hurt.
“Please. That wouldn’t offend you. It more than likely boosted your ego.” I laugh.
Kane comes and stands in front of me. The width of the countertop is between us. He leans over on his elbows, his face mere inches from mine. I don’t make a motion to move. I cock an eyebrow.
“Oh, it didn’t just boost my ego.” As fast as lightning, he closes the distance and presses his mouth to mine. Bacon flavor touches my tongue as his dives into my mouth. His hand reaches behind my neck and threads through my hair. I melt into the kiss. It’s everything. A piece of my longtime broken heart lodges itself back into its familiar place.
Is this what I’ve been missing?
Are we supposed to come together for me to heal?
I’m lost in the way our mouths move together. I reach up and touch his face. Everything between us deepens, and the want and need explodes.
Seconds later, he ends the kiss with a small peck and leans back. I have no words—he’s kissed them from my mind. No more snarky remarks.
“I’ve wanted to take you like that since I saw you last night. I had to hold myself back, or I was going to drag you to a room at my parents’ and rip the dress from your flawless body.”
My breath catches. “I . . .”
“You don’t need to say anything.” He gives me a warm, charming grin. It’s infectious.
My brain has turned to mush. What did he do to me? “Uh . . . what was that for? There’s no one here for the show.”
He turns his back, removes the pan from the cooktop, and makes his way back toward me. This time he comes around the countertop and stands so close. I angle myself to face him.
“I don’t think I need a reason to kiss my fiancée.”
“Ah, fake fiancée,” I clarify with a finger to his chest. It’s firm. My hand takes on a mind of its own, and before I realize it, it’s pressed against his heart. Its rapid beat matches my own. I focus on his face. His features become more predominant—dark eyes, full of lust and want. His jawline is perfectly symmetrical. My fingers find their way there and trace along it. I swallow down my nerves. I stand, and his arms come around me. It’s as though no time has passed between us.
His forehead presses against mine. “This can be as real as we want to make it,” he whispers before he claims my mouth once again. He lifts me up, and my legs wrap around his waist. He slides me onto the countertop and grinds into me.
A groan escapes my throat. “What . . . are . . . you doing to me?” I say during our kiss.
“Claiming you.”
I pull back, my chest seizing at his proclamation. Our breaths are heavy and desire pulses between us. Those familiar eyes bore into mine like he’s attempting to read my thoughts. “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.” I hang my head, overcome with hurt.
“Why not?” His finger touches my chin, and I meet his gaze. Questions build behind it. “Why can’t we make this real?”
This can’t be happening. “Because there are things you don’t know about me, and I’m not ready to trust you. For all I know, you’re going to hurt me all over again. I’m not willing to give you my heart on a silver platter. You have to show me you care, and until you do, I can’t give myself to you fully.” Even speaking those words, I’m lying to myself. Of course, I’d love to give him another chance—every fiber in my body screams for me to cling to him. There’s too much baggage between us, and one thing that he’s never known. One thing I’m not sure he’s ready to hear at the moment.
Kane moves back and puts some distance between us. His loss is felt, and I’m suddenly wanting to reach for him again and pull him against me. I can’t, though.
“Let’s have some food, and I’ll take you home.”
“Thank you,” is all I manage without allowing tears to form. I guess I’m still in love with him. The piece of my heart that clicked back into place must have been one of the many parts he still holds, and I hadn’t realized it.
Cha
pter Twenty-Five
Jolene
The silence in the car is deafening. I should have caught an Uber. “Whose clothes are in that room I was staying in?” I ask Kane, whose focus has been solely on the road. But now he turns and gives me a momentary glance. Clearing his throat, he says, “Yours.”
My brow furrows. “Mine?”
“Yeah. When you agreed to do this, I thought the least I could do was give you some clothes for when you’re at my place. Since we do have to make this look real.” The way he says ‘real’ is like a punch to the stomach. Does he want this engagement to be a permanent thing?
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. But how did you get my size for everything?” He even got the right one for my bras.
A smile tugs on his lips. “Your friend Adele is a bucketful of knowledge.”
I smack my leg. “I’m going to kill her. She’s supposed to be on my side.” I huff, folding my arms across my chest.
“Perhaps she sees potential in me.”
“Are you sure about that? She could just as easily take you for a joy ride and then dump your body somewhere no one would find you.” I laugh.
I sense the mood shift. He wriggles farther upright in his seat, and his knuckles become white as he grips the steering wheel. “There’s something we need to talk about.”
“What’s that?” I keep my gaze out that window.
“The job my father told you about. There’s no backing out of that.”
“What?” I yell before he gets another word out. “You can’t be serious.”
“When he suggests something, you don’t really have a say. It will only be for while we’re together. Once we break up, then you can go back to your old job.”
“I like my job just fine right now,” I grit out. Anger ripples on the surface. How dare he think he can dictate to me about where I’m going to be working?
“If I could change his mind, I would.” He reaches for my leg, and I hit it away from me. “Don’t . . . if I’d have known this is what it would cost me, I wouldn’t have agreed to this thing. I feel terrible lying to your family. Did you know Callie is already classing me as her sister? How am I meant to walk away after this is all over?” The words rush out without hardly a breath. My hands clench into fists.
Again, he is silent. Damn you, Kane. What did you get me into?
It’s not long before we pull up in front of my apartment building. I push the door open as I’m about to rush away from this disaster of a morning. Kane grabs my arm, and I pause.
“Don’t.”
My face screws up, waiting for him to finish. When he doesn’t continue, I ask, “Don’t what?”
“Don’t walk away.”
Air evaporates in my lungs. The way he stares tells me he’s dead serious. I can’t deal with this at the moment. I jump out, shut the door, and run to the entrance of my building. He can’t see me break apart. He doesn’t get that right.
He doesn’t come after me, and that’s okay with me.
Pulling my phone from the clutch I used last night, I hit the name of the one person I know will be there for me.
“What’s happenin’?”
Hearing Adele’s voice, my tears overflow before I even shut the door to my apartment.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I cry. “I shouldn’t have done this, Adele. I thought I could handle it. I can’t.” I drop onto the couch and pull the same shirt I woke up in up to wipe away my tears. It makes it worse. His pine scent fills me with such emotion I might explode.
“I’m on my way.”
I nod to her response even though she can’t see me. We end our call, and I can’t stop the overflow of tears. They keep coming. Everything that I’ve been keeping bottled up and stockpiling hoping it would go away eventually has come back tenfold. All because of Kane Taylor. My first love. My first everything. From lover to enemy and back to lover. My heart isn’t strong enough for this.
Not even an hour later, Adele is at my door with wine and food. She always knows exactly what I need to make me feel somewhat better. I won’t feel completely whole until this entire situation is resolved, locked in the far recesses of my mind, with the key never to be seen again.
I keep picturing the little white box of memories. I stuff another forkful of pasta in my mouth while I listen to Adele.
“You can do these hard things, Jo. You’ve got this.”
“What about my feelings? I can’t seem to control them.”
“Then don’t,” she says, clearly frustrated.
I point my fork in her direction. “So, you’re saying I go with the flow?”
“Bingo,” she says. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. For all you know, he could be your happily-ever-after, and you’re simply shutting things down with him. Don’t do that. Go with the flow.” Her words smack me in the face. She’s right.
“What if I fall flat on my face? What if he hurts me again?”
She places her takeaway bowl on the table and turns to me, a hard look in her eyes. “So what if he does? You just survived an idiot like Nathan, and you’ve already survived Kane once before. You can do it again. No matter what the outcome is.”
“See, I know you’re right, but my head is screaming no at me.” I grin.
She doesn’t. Instead, she rolls her eyes. “Look, if you can’t do it anymore, then end it before it gets too far, even though I already think things have gone past that point.”
“So, I just quit my job?”
“Yep,” she responds without hesitation.
“Look at you, being all forceful and bitchy. I like it.” We break out in laughter. A settling sensation pours over me. No matter what, I’ll be fine. Adele will be here.
“Well, I guess I’ll be quitting my job this week.” I sigh, taking my glass of wine and tossing the last of it back.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jolene
“I can’t believe this is your last shift,” Cammie says as we prepare to take out the refreshments for our last flight together. At least for a little while. I only had to give one week’s notice, thanks to Kane stepping in. We haven’t spoken since I ran away from him—there’s been total silence since.
“I know.” I sigh, not really wanting to get into a discussion with her about it.
“And Kane proposed to you, and you said yes? Even after the way you acted the other day?”
Word spread like crazy once the girls heard Kane was officially engaged. Kane even went so far as to add a photo of us kissing as his profile picture on social media. He is putting it out there for the world to see. Men don’t think like women do, I guess.
“Yeah, we reconciled. It’s amazing the feelings we hold onto.” I turn, giving her a small grin.
“I’m happy for you. Although there are girls who I think would rather be in your shoes.”
I’d gladly hand the shoes over to the next girl in line if I could.
I say nothing, so she continues, “When will you get married? I expect an invite.” She giggles.
“Uh . . . we haven’t really picked a date yet.”
“Oh, totally. There’s no rush to run down the aisle. A wedding is a lot of money to spend for just a piece of paper.”
“Couldn’t agree more. Now, let’s get these refreshments out and finish this last flight together.”
The hour passes in a blur, and before I know it, I’m stepping off the plane with Cammie for the final time.
We’re laughing about one of the guests on the flight when Cammie stops walking. I follow her line of sight to where Kane stands. He’s in a dark blue pair of jeans and a white button-up tee with the sleeves rolled up. Hot. He holds a large colorful bouquet of flowers in front of him. Butterflies tickle my stomach.
“Wow, I need to get me a man like that.”
Turning to face Cammie, her cheeks flushed pink.
I smile. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your time will come soon enough.”
She scoffs. “Girl, I see what gu
ys are out in the big, wide world. and they are mostly manwhores.”
“That’s what Kane was. They can change.” Do I even believe that?
“I hope you’re right.” She leans in and gives me a warm hug. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We’ll have a girls’ night soon.”
“We will,” I assure her before she walks off, and I head for the gorgeous man with flowers that seem to be drawing attention from passersby. His grin is infectious and makes me weak in the knees. All the anger and confusion I was feeling the last time I saw him is gone. Perhaps I managed to lock it away in the box, after all.
Stopping in front of him, I say, “Is this your way of sucking up?”
He shrugs. “This is only the beginning.”
I raise my brows. “Do tell,” I say, completely intrigued by his answer.
He hands the flowers to me and takes my little overnight suitcase. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.” He shifts and places his hand on my lower back.
I want to melt into his arms, but I refrain. I’m still not ready to let things go yet. “Uh . . . is my uniform okay to wear?”
He nods. “Yeah. It’s fine. How have you been?”
I sense his stare, but I don’t look at him. “I’m okay. It’s just been a lot to take in.” The weight of the engagement ring, heavy on my finger, is a constant reminder of the lies we’re surrounding ourselves with.
“I want you to know that there will be no one else . . . just you.”
“I suppose it won’t look too good if you’re engaged and off playing around with some other girl,” I reply dryly.
“I’m done with all of that, Jojo. It’s only you. How can I get you to believe me?”
I shiver at the use of his nickname for me. When I finally snap out of my shocked state, I say, “Prove it.”
“I can do that,” he assures me.