He released her legs and they collapsed to the floor.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong yet?”
She tilted her head and the halo of pink-dyed hair shifted, too. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”
Her tone also asked, Why do you care? And he didn’t. He cursed to himself. Then why did he keep asking?
She was spread out under him, not completely naked, but all her beautiful anatomy was revealed to him.
He kissed each breast and she tensed like she was going to get up, but he continued kissing his way down.
Again, she didn’t say anything but widened her legs to allow him room to bury his face in her well-sexed flesh. Another orgasm might get her talking.
Chapter Thirteen
Mara stared at the ceiling, having woken up first. Sam had stayed over.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Wes. Would she ever get used to it? Wes Robson was in her bed. One thing was for sure. She could fantasize laughing in his receptionist’s face. He could’ve been in all the meetings in the world, but she’d still been able to talk to him after all. With no clothes on.
She turned to the slumbering man.
Wesley Robson. In her bed.
Was this like sleeping with the enemy?
She’d known who he was last night and she’d gone along with it. She felt dirty and guilty, and guilty for not feeling dirty because she didn’t. Sex with Wes was too wonderful to feel ashamed for seeking her release with him.
With her history, she should be in the tub, scrubbing his taste out of her mouth. But he wasn’t Dr. Johannsen, either. Her esteemed professor had been attractive enough, but not the male specimen Wes was. Nor as good in bed.
Not that she’d really wanted to be in bed with her professor, but the man had been smart and she’d been gullible and desperate.
I think I can see a way to help you improve your grade.
Stupid.
And this wasn’t?
She peered at Wes again. No, because she knew what she was doing this time. Her eyes were wide open.
He adjusted his position and reached for her. There went her damn heart. He wasn’t able to fake fooling her in his sleep.
His dark hair was mussed and not just from sleep. When she’d first seen him, she’d compared him to a superhero. How disappointing.
Joe mentioned people like Wes didn’t always have healthy relationships.
She frowned and skimmed her fingers across his cheek. Was she really going to analyze him, after all his deception? Yeah, she was. He’d said his dad had passed away and she of all people had heard from the real Sam all of his regrets about how he had treated Wes. Then there was Wes’s mom. Geez, she’d sounded unreal. Like a cartoon stereotype of the wicked ex-wife. And she’d raised Wes.
Mara turned fully on her side to face him. What if she didn’t play him in return, but tried to show him the other side of life? Real relationships that weren’t driven by greed? Her relationship with her mom was real. Her friendship with Sam had been legit, and nothing more than platonic. Ephraim and Joe had families to go home to, but Sam hadn’t had anyone. Feeling like he’d lost Wes, he had thrown his love into the comic book shop. To keep those memories alive.
Wes’s eyelids fluttered before those startling blues met hers. His lips tilted in a sleepy smile as he rolled onto his back to stretch.
“I usually visit my mom on Sundays.”
He smirked at her. “You’re kicking me out.”
She rolled up to prop herself on an elbow. “Or…you could come with?”
“Sure. It’d be great to hang with Wendy again. Is this what was bothering you last night? Did you think your mom would scare me off?”
What a fabulous excuse. “Kind of. I like you.” Before I found out you were a disingenuous man who was out for what—a revenge fuck?
Greatest sex of my life. Got me good, asshole.
“Of course I don’t mind. It’s refreshing to be around a mom who… acts like a mom.”
She tried to keep the pity out of her look. “Really?”
His lopsided smile softened her heart. “Was it a ploy to get me to go away?”
“No. It was a real invite. I have one other question. Do you play rummy?”
***
Wes was on his third hand of rummy.
It was fun.
Mara’s mom was just as pleasant as before and had been delighted when he’d walked in. What would it be like to grow up with a mom like that?
“Wendy, I do believe you’ve won this round again.”
Wendy chuckled, her brown eyes lighting up. Wes didn’t think he could say anything wrong around her. He just enjoyed the conversation.
How would his mom behave around Mara?
Easy—atrociously. His mom would demean and condescend, and nitpick Mara’s appearance and weight. All before she found out about Mara’s relationship with Sam. Then no holds barred, get your gloves out, fight club only has one rule.
Mara gathered the cards and shuffled them. “Do you need me to bring anything on Tuesday when I swing by?”
“Whenever you have time to make a library run, I’d appreciate it. More audiobooks, please. Cards are easier to hold, but books can wear my hands out.”
“Sure. I’ll grab some tonight and bring ’em.” Mara packed up their stuff and they stood to leave.
“Thank you.” Wendy smiled at him and waved. “Nice to see you again, Sam.”
“I never pass up the chance to visit a lady who can whip me at cards.”
She giggled and it took twenty years off her tired features.
When he turned, he was struck by Mara’s look of awe.
He nudged her with an elbow as they walked through the narrow corridors. “You’re looking all shocked that I can charm your mother.”
“I expected you to be a little uncomfortable with, you know, the environment. Comic Con’s a little different than hanging out in a nursing home.”
He shrugged. It was surprisingly homey in the place.
Mara grabbed his hand. “Do you mind stopping at the library with me? They don’t close for a couple of hours.”
“If I get lost, will you find me?”
She chuckled, but he wasn’t joking. He’d never been in a public library.
Chapter Fourteen
Mara gave Wes a kiss at the door as she was leaving for work Monday morning. He’d stayed over again and another supreme night of amazing sex had firmed her resolve to show him that she was decent people.
“When do I get to see your place?”
His brows rose in surprise. “Uh…my place isn’t the best for entertaining.”
She swept her arm around her living room. “And my humble abode is magnificent?”
“It’s homier than mine.” Probably not a lie. “My place is large and obnoxious. I don’t know why I bought it.”
“Condo?”
“House.”
Oh. A mansion. Did he have staff? Would they see her and wonder why he’d ever bring a girl like her around?
“I’d better get to work. Lock up when you leave?”
“Always.” He clasped her wrist as she stepped away. “Wednesday night?”
“I don’t know. Are you going to keep me up all night again?”
“Probably.”
Her body celebrated. Geez, she should feel guilty. But the sex. Her body craved it more the longer they were together, like he was an addiction.
She went through the day in a daze of sorting, marking down the last of her stock for clearance, and explaining the situation to customers who hadn’t yet heard. After a busier weekend than normal and the added stress of Wes, she was lagging by the end of the day.
The sign was turned to officially closed when Chris spoke up. “I talked to my friend. She’s been looking into it, double checking all the permits are filed correctly. Wes Robson hasn’t been her favorite person since he made them jump through hoops to expedite the approval process for the outlet mall, then switc
hed his plans to St. Paul.”
“It won’t be in time to stop the store from closing. He owns the building.”
“But like you said, we can be a burr in his backside. Guys like him don’t understand what they do to us when they swing their power and money around.”
The Wes who’d been so considerate and charming with her mother contradicted the man who was shutting her down.
“I don’t know. I feel like I should just drop it.” She hadn’t told Chris her new man was really Wes.
Chris punched into the register to count the money. “It’s out of our hands now. It’s not you, if that makes you feel better. My friend got an ulcer from the stress he put her through. The whole office hates him. Except for the young women.”
“Thank you for thinking of the store.” Wes seemed so untouchable, she doubted Chris’s contact would have any luck.
Her phone rang. “Hey, Ephraim.”
“Mara, can you swing by the office so we can get your signatures on some papers?”
Spend Friday through Sunday with Wes, launch legal action against him by Monday. Who had she turned into? She knew who he was, she shouldn’t play along, and she wasn’t that person. She wasn’t him. But…he shouldn’t get away with it. He didn’t get to play with her emotions, string her along, all the while knowing he was responsible for shutting down her dream and driving her into a financial corner. Her resolve was strengthened. She’d pretend ignorance and date “Sam.”
Her store closed later than regular businesses, so traffic wasn’t bad on the way to Ephraim’s firm.
He was the only one there, to her relief. They went through and she signed and initialed and got her own stack of copies.
Ephraim walked her to the door. “What did you decide?”
He’d waited until the end, she was glad.
“I’m trying to show him I’m a decent person and that maybe he is, too.”
His expression turned wary. “People like Wes won’t look at it that way. When he finds out, and he will find out, Mara, he’ll attach to the fact that you knew. That’s all he’ll care about. You knew who he really was and you didn’t say anything.”
“I have a little faith in him.”
Ephraim’s paternal expression was full of warning. It was becoming a standard look for him. “Even after you signed papers to look into the contract Sam had Robson Industries draw up?”
“It’s buying us time.” She stifled a groan. Just like Chris’s friend was trying to do.
This was messed up.
“Tread carefully, Mara. He has the money to make life difficult for you.”
“He has money; he’s not a mobster.”
“Sometimes there’s a fine line.”
She didn’t know rich people. Ephraim saw the worst of them. Should she drop everything and tell Wes she knew about his game?
Climbing back into her car and settling herself inside, she resisted hitting her head against the steering wheel.
She should be angry at Wes for not meeting with her in the first place. If he had, this would have been avoided. All of it, including their relationship. But he was as stubborn as his father.
Her phone pinged with a text. From Wes.
Missing you.
Her heart twisted. Sweet or calculating? Miss you, too.
Bed’s pretty empty w/o u.
So’s my floor.
Lol. Night.
What a mess. His messages made her feel better that she was going home to an empty house and he was in an empty bed.
***
The middle of the week and he was going through Mara withdrawals. Pathetic. They’d been sending sweet texts back and forth, something completely out of his realm.
He brought his attention back to Helen, who was giving him midweek updates.
“I have some unsettling news.” She knew better than to pause. “The city council’s office called and they said we need to resubmit for all required demolition permits.”
“What the hell for? I thought it was all taken care of.”
“A glitch.”
“A glitch?”
“Yes sir. I smell a sewer at full capacity.”
“And if we argue about this glitch?” They’d done everything by the book. He always did. No corner cutting, no favors called in. He might push the boundaries and be demanding, but he followed the rules.
“I argued up main street and down the highway. Even talked to the head of the department. She was less than willing to cooperate.”
She would be. Still raw from Wes moving his outlet mall plans across the river.
“It’ll delay the project more than initially anticipated,” Helen answered, “and add a little more expense. That should be the worst of it.”
Why now? Everything had been coasting along. The outdated mall was closing its doors in less than three weeks.
Chris offered to contact an old friend on the city commission.
He clenched his jaw. So, that’s how she wanted to play it. First the lawsuit that his legal team was in a catfight over, and now this.
She wanted to be a PITA? She thought she was smarter than his dad and now she thought she could undermine Wes, using the men around her to do her bidding. What else were the men around her doing for her? “Helen, write this name down. Mara Jade Baranski. I want to know everything about her.”
Helen scribbled her name. “Arcadia’s owner? What should I be searching for?”
“Anything that points to her character. She’s the one behind this delay. Trust me.”
“She’s grasping at straws. First taking legal action against Robson Industries, and now this.” Helen shook her head. “Some people can’t make an honest living.”
Note to self: give Helen a raise.
After work, he strode out to his car. Instead of picking her up for dinner, he’d left a message that there was a change of plans—due to a glitch in the reservation. His chef had prepped dinner for two, one that wouldn’t set up shop in his arteries, and delivered it to Wes’s office so Wes could take it over to Mara’s.
They were going to eat in and he was going to relieve his stress in her body. Many times.
Chapter Fifteen
Mara finished inventory. Stock was moving at a good rate. The second to last game day was tomorrow and she’d mark the used Xboxes for sale.
“Got any fun Friday plans that’d put mine to shame?” Chris called from the front where he was closing up.
“I have a date.” If it turned out like Wednesday night’s, should she be thrilled or dismayed?
She’d been looking forward to real food and not something out of a can when Wes had canceled dinner out. Instead, he’d brought her an excellent meal, and she’d barely had any time to enjoy it before Wes had been stripping her down.
All night long, he’d been at her. When he’d been too spent, he’d used his tongue or his fingers. She’d physically pushed him off her bed and demanded a few hours’ sleep before work on Thursday.
He’d given it to her, only to wake her up before her alarm for another round.
Not a bad way to wake up, but she was convinced that death by orgasm was real.
Chris locked up and handed her the envelope of money to deposit. “Hey, did I tell you I heard back from my friend? She wants to thank you. Wes was so pissed at the delays and she found it refreshing that their roles were reversed.”
Mara laid the envelope on her desk and scowled at it. “When was this?”
“Wednesday, I think.”
Uh-huh. “That’s good then?”
“Yeah, it won’t stop anything, but it’s worth it, right?”
Tell her vagina that.
No, don’t. It might agree.
“See you tomorrow?”
She nodded woodenly and sank into her seat. So the sex wasn’t because he found her irresistible. He’d been upset at her and had used her all night long.
Anger burned through her. Her cheeks grew hot and her breathing rate kicked up. How could he?
She’d thought that despite the deceit they’d connected, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. Had she fooled herself yet again? Looking at the time, she groaned. She had an hour to pull herself together and calm down before meeting him.
***
Wes waited in front of the restaurant where Mara had been adamant about meeting him. Was she getting weird on him again?
He’d been…intense…the other night, but most women would come begging for more.
As Mara walked up with a stoop in her shoulders, wearing those ridiculous Batman leggings he loved, she didn’t have a begging mood about her.
“There she is,” he greeted.
He got a half smile. Yep, she was stuck in her head.
“Sorry, I’m not feeling too well tonight,” she said in a soft voice.
“I heard they have good food here. Eat a solid meal and you’ll feel better.”
He held the door open for her and she muttered something as she walked by.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
They were seated and she folded and unfolded her napkin while staring out the window.
“Mara?”
“Everything with my store,” she blurted. “It’s just— How could he treat me like that?”
Her eyes shimmered, and as a sign of how much he’d emotionally opened up to her, he sought to comfort her instead of putting as much distance between them as possible. He could barely believe what he was doing as he reached a hand across the table, but she stared at it.
“What if I have to dig into my reserves and I run out of money to pay for my mom’s care?”
Her words tugged on his conscience, but he pushed it aside rather than owning it. Wendy needed to be in the nursing home. But where had Mara’s reserves come from? Helen would find out. Besides, Mara was smart, she could get a decent job easy. A regular nine-to-fiver with good benefits.
She dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to be good company tonight.”
Unmistaken Identity Page 11