Matter of Time

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Matter of Time Page 3

by Alannah Lynne


  “I told you. This is my safe haven. A place I worked hard to build, someplace I’m really proud of, and I wanted you to see it.” When she stared him down, he nodded in a conciliatory manner and said, “Okay, I also thought you would have more fun here than spending the evening alone in your hotel room.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “What if I had a hot date planned and I canceled it to come here with you?”

  Looking more bored than contrite, he said, “Am I wrong?”

  She huffed as she dropped her arms to her sides and turned away from him. “No.”

  His soft touch on her chin, forcing her to turn to him, startled her. “I know how much you struggled after Logan left, and I have the feeling you’ve never gotten over him or moved on.”

  He hadn’t asked a question, so she felt no need to verify what he apparently already knew.

  Of course, Lucas wasn’t one to let things go, so he cocked a brow and pushed the issue. “Am I right?”

  Gah, the bastard was infuriating. She wanted to rail against his accusation. To call him delusional and wave her hands in the air for emphasis as she announced she’d moved on years ago. She wanted to stand tall and proud as she informed him she never thought about Logan. But as she looked into his green eyes, the ones peering into her soul, she found it impossible to utter a single word. Instead, she swallowed roughly, then jerked her chin out of his grasp and turned away.

  “Lizbeth, look at me.”

  His tone was soft and gentle, almost imploring, but she didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want him to see how much talk of Logan still hurt.

  “Look. At. Me.”

  This time his voice was strong and demanding, so with nostrils flaring like a cornered bull, she turned on him. Long gone was the mask of pleasant perfection she showed the world. Lucas wanted the truth? Then he could have it. She’d show him the cold, ugly truth that lay deep within. She wasn’t happy. She hadn’t moved on. She was the miserable, lonely woman he thought, and she hoped like hell he was happy for having unearthed that nugget of truth. “What do you want from me, Lucas?”

  “All I want is for you to trust me.” His tone was back to being soft and gentle, his eyes understanding as he pressed his hands to the sides of her shoulders and shook her slightly. “Trust that what you’re looking for can be found inside these walls.”

  Oh, how she wished that were true. She’d give anything to fill the gaping hole in her chest. To find someone who loved and cherished her the way Logan had. But after fifteen years of searching and too many to count failed attempts at finding someone who might come close, she knew Lucas would be disappointed.

  She cast a sideways glance at the door and considered making a run for it. But then what? Go back to her hotel and spend the night throwing herself a massive pity party? What did she have to lose by sticking around? She doubted she’d find anyone she wanted to hook up with, but for whatever reason, Lucas had gone to a lot of trouble to get her here, so the least she could do was linger and have a drink.

  With a heavy sigh, she conceded to stay. “Okay. You win.”

  His quick grin showed a slash of perfect white teeth. Then he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned toward the bar. “Fantastic. Come and meet Jason, my number one bartender.”

  “Oh my God.” She stopped walking, forcing him to stop with her. “You really are setting me up with your hot bartender.”

  His brows dropped into a dark V of confusion. “Uhhh, no, that wasn’t my plan.” He narrowed his eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted. “How do you know he’s hot?”

  “Only a fool would have a non-attractive bartender in a sex club. And you, Lucas Steele, are no fool.”

  He tossed back his head, laughing, and squeezed her shoulders as they resumed their pace to the bar.

  “Jason,” he said, capturing the super-hunky beefcake bartender’s attention. “I’d like you to meet my friend, Lizbeth. Hook her up”—he paused, twisted his head to look at her, and winked—“with whatever she wants. Her drinks are on me.”

  Jason was even hotter than she expected, and when he threw out his hand for a shake, she couldn’t help but make a mental note of its enormous size. Size of the hands and the feet…

  “Nice to meet you, Lizbeth. What can I get for you?”

  Before she had a chance to order, Lucas interrupted. “Lizbeth, I need to go check on a few things, so I’m going to leave you alone for a minute.” Tipping his head toward the mysterious front wall, he said, “On the other side of that wall are the theme rooms. There are windows in the front, so you can stand outside and watch the play”—he paused and gave her a wide grin—“if you’re so inclined.” Lifting his chin toward the balcony hanging over their heads, he said, “The rooms also have open ceilings, so you can go upstairs and look down into them.” Rapping his knuckles on the bar, he said, “Take care of her Jason.” To her, he said, “I’ll be back in a few.”

  With that, he was gone, and she was left standing alone, once again wondering how she’d found herself in this bizarre place, but more importantly… what would she do while here?

  She must’ve looked as confused and out of place as she felt, because Jason said, “Are you new to the scene?”

  Glancing around again, she absently said, “Yes,” then realized that sounded like she actually was in the scene. She quickly shook her head no and modified her answer. “I mean no. I’m not… in the scene.”

  But if she and Logan had stayed together, she probably would’ve been. They hadn’t had a name for it back in college, nor did they know there was such a thing as a Dominant and a submissive. But they’d started experimenting with different kinds of things in the bedroom, spankings and bondage… things considered taboo at the time. So yeah, if they’d stayed together, she probably would’ve been as entrenched in the lifestyle as Lucas appeared to be.

  “Well then, I imagine this is a lot to take in.” Jason’s kind smile and warm brown eyes offered a strange sense of understanding. “Would you like a drink to help you acclimate?”

  She laughed and considered the benefits of downing a tall, stiff drink to settle her nervous system but found herself answering, “No.” She was curious about the theme rooms Lucas mentioned, and it was probably best to keep a clear head while exploring. “I’m going to wander around for a few minutes and see what this is all about.” She took a step, then turned back to the bar. “Lucas mentioned rules. What do I need to know before I take off on my own?”

  “Probably the biggest thing is to not interrupt a scene. You can stand at the window or open door to watch, but don’t speak to the couples or interject. Other than that, I don’t think you can get into too much trouble.”

  “Ha, you don’t know me.” The words were out before she thought better of it, and she threw her hand over her mouth to cover her laughter.

  “You know where to find me when you’re ready.”

  “I’m sure it won’t be long before I come running back for the safety of the bar.” She took a deep breath, offered him an uncertain smile, and said, “Wish me luck. I’m going in.”

  Chapter Three

  Logan Steele gripped the edge of the bathroom counter and checked his reflection in the mirror again, trying to see himself as Lizbeth would after all these years. He could only do so much to dress up the scarred mug staring back at him, and he’d already shaved and put on aftershave, so he was pretty much out of options.

  He reminded himself—again—that Lizbeth hadn’t minded his scars in college, so what were a few additional minor dents and dings? She hadn’t loved him for his looks. If that were the case, she would’ve fallen for Lucas’s perfection. Logan had to believe the new slash along the edge of his eye and the one curving from his temple into his hairline wouldn’t be a hindrance now.

  Irritated with himself for obsessing over something he couldn’t control, he shoved off the counter, turned, and stormed out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. “I can’t believe the bastar
d is making me wait this out up here.”

  Lucas had kept him updated throughout the evening, first by confirming Lizbeth agreed to come back to the club, then finally letting him know they’d arrived. The last phone call, confirming she was in the building, had been the one to trigger his latest round of near psychosis. The teeny-tiny pea-sized primordial part of his brain, the part that had ruled men since they dragged their knuckles on the ground and communicated in grunts, insisted he storm the front door, knock her over the head as soon as she walked in, and drag her back to his cave. Or, in this case, his hotel room above Pandora’s Playground.

  While the tactic would at least ensure him the opportunity to sit down and talk with her, in the long run, he agreed that wasn’t his best approach.

  In his fourteen-year marriage to Bobbi Jo, he’d never been unfaithful, and he’d made it his clear intention not to dwell on Lizbeth or the life they should’ve had. He chose to leave her in Raleigh and move back to Charlotte to marry Bobbi Jo, to be actively involved in raising their infant daughter Brianna, and thinking about Lizbeth wasn’t fair to any of them.

  But his subconscious didn’t always play by the rules, and if forced to submit to a polygraph, he would confess that not more than a handful of days had passed without Lizbeth ghosting through his thoughts at least once. They weren’t thoughts that stopped him in his tracks, but she seemed to always be with him, lingering on the periphery of his mind. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was actually an awareness that he left a piece of himself behind that day and the only way to get it back was through Lizbeth.

  North Carolina law required couples to separate for a year before finalizing their divorce. He and Bobbi Jo had been separated twelve months, three weeks, and two days—not that he was counting—and more than once over the past year, he’d considered trying to locate Lizbeth after the divorce was finalized. But he had no idea where she went after college, or if she was married, and no idea where to start his search.

  When Lucas called him a month ago to tell him he ran into Lizbeth at Christmas, that she’d never married, and that he and Kevin Mazze were working on a plan to reunite her with Logan, he felt like he’d hit life’s lucky lottery. It must be divine intervention for things to work out so perfectly, right? He just had to keep reminding himself as a fresh wave of what ifs resurfaced.

  What if Lucas is wrong and she doesn’t want to see me?

  What if I hurt her so badly she has nothing but hatred left in her heart where I’m concerned?

  What if she’s happy to see me but wants to keep our relationship casual… like exchanging-Christmas-cards casual?

  Lucas was adamant none of those things would happen, but Logan couldn’t make himself fully buy into the it’ll-be-all-right scenario.

  A rap on the door followed by its quick opening had him jumping and spinning and nearly falling on his ass.

  “Settle down,” Lucas said with a burst of laughter. “It’s just me.” As Logan straightened and drew in a deep, steadying breath, Lucas’s laughter settled into a soft smile. “I would ask if you’re ready, but based on that reaction, I’d say yes.”

  Logan worked his neck back and forth a few times, then nodded. “I’ve been ready for the past month. Where is she?”

  “I left her in the bar.” Lucas’s grin widened. “I have the feeling, though, by now she’s gotten up the nerve to start exploring.”

  Logan’s heart damn near jumped out of his chest at the thought of Lizbeth wandering around Pandora’s alone. He hadn’t seen pictures, but Lucas said she looked remarkably like she had in college… which meant she was the most beautiful woman in the building, and all the men would be aching for a chance to be with her. “How did she handle being brought to a sex club?”

  “Not as outraged as you might think.” Lucas leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. “She’s suspicious, though. She asked me if I felt sorry for her and planned to set her up with my bartender.”

  What felt like a thousand galloping horses pounded in Logan’s chest. “Jesus Christ! She’s down there flirting with someone else right now?” He was already moving toward the door, prepared to stake his claim like a dog pissing on a damn hydrant. “That would be my luck. After fifteen years, I miss my chance to get her back because I’m standing around with my thumb up my ass, talking to you.”

  “What have I told you about treading lightly?”

  The warning tone as well as the hard glint in Lucas’s eyes stopped Logan in his tracks and forced him to take a breath. He turned on his heel and stalked back to the other side of the room.

  “I know, I know, but…” He turned to face his twin, imploring him to understand. “I’ve waited for this day for fifteen years. Consciously, I wasn’t aware of waiting, but my heart… you know… I think it always held out hope. And now the chance is here… She’s downstairs for chrissake. This close.” He held his finger and thumb a hair’s width apart. “What am I going to do if she rejects me?” He hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, like a man pleading for his life, but his fear had been projected in his tone and words.

  She’d been his entire world, and with one chance meeting at a grocery store—with one glance at the baby in Bobbi Jo’s shopping cart, the one with green eyes identical to his—his entire world had been snatched out from under him and a new one slowly, painfully, methodically built in its place. He thought his relationship with Bobbi Jo ended the summer before he and Lizbeth started dating, but man, how things changed in the blink of an eye.

  Over time, the sand shifted again, and despite his best efforts to keep it together, the foundation of his marriage crumbled and fell apart. And now, knowing Lizbeth was once again within reach, hope and fear warred within him, tearing him apart.

  He couldn’t image what he’d do if she walked away from him, and the thought nearly brought him to his knees, because that’s exactly what he’d done to her all those years ago. She was the kindest, most compassionate person he’d ever met, but he didn’t know if she would have the capacity to forgive him, let alone give him another chance to hurt her again.

  “She’s not going to reject you. She might run scared initially, especially if you go in too hot and fast. But she still loves you, Logan. I’m sure of it.”

  The surety in Lucas’s tone settled Logan’s stomach a little, but he still found himself asking, “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I saw her face at Christmas, when she studied my face, searching for your scars. I’m damn good at reading people, and I thought for a second I would have to scrape her off the floor. And then, when she figured out it was me and not you…” Lucas blew out a harsh breath as he shook his head. “It was painful to witness. Her heart was in her eyes, screaming for me to be you. After that, I spent time talking to Kevin about her, and everything he said only convinced me more. She’s spent her life searching for someone to fill your shoes, and”—he laughed and rocked back on his heels—“aside from me, there isn’t another you.” He crossed the room and put a steady hand on Logan’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t put either of you through this if I wasn’t absolutely certain she still loves you as much as you love her.”

  Logan swallowed the painful knot in his throat and slowly nodded, forcing himself to accept the truth of Lucas’s words. Logan’s pain over losing Lizbeth had sliced to Lucas’s core as well, so he believed his brother. He wouldn’t put any of them through that kind of pain again if he wasn’t certain she would be receptive to talking to Logan. “Okay,” he said after another deep breath. “Here goes… everything.”

  *

  Lucas told Lizbeth he started the club with two friends from college, Mathew Galindo and Ian Stewart, and as she’d stood in the bar, gathering the courage to explore on her own, she saw a man who looked like Mathew come through the door. She wasn’t sure how smart or polite it was to follow someone she knew, someone who was probably on his way to do something incredibly intimate and probably perverse. But she decided it was better, at least for he
r, to observe someone she knew rather than a total stranger.

  She lagged back several yards as she followed him down the long, barely-lit hallway. When he stopped at the last door on the right, she ducked into the shadowed doorway of another room and waited as he opened the door, smiled, and spoke to someone inside, then entered the room and shut the door behind him.

  With her heart rat-a-tat-tatting in her chest and her palms practically dripping with sweat, she tiptoed to the window of his room and glanced inside. Based on what she’d glimpsed through the other windows—a schoolroom, a pirate’s ship, and a throne room—she’d had no idea what to expect, but a modern kitchen with a dining room table and single chair never would’ve come to mind. A petite brunette wearing a French maid’s uniform took his suit jacket, then stepped to the side so he could sit in the chair. After hanging his coat on a hook by the door, she returned to the table and sank to the floor at his feet.

  Mathew leaned over, gripped the woman’s chin between his finger and thumb, and gave her a soul-deep kiss that probably would’ve melted her knees had she not already been sitting. The intensity of their kiss and the beauty of the moment had Lizbeth blinking back tears as her mind rewound to the first night she tried to fix dinner for Logan.

  “Honey, I’m home.”

  Lizbeth giggled at Logan’s greeting as he came through the front door of her apartment. Technically, this was her home. Logan’s was in the condo he shared with Lucas. But since Lizbeth had the apartment to herself for the summer, she and Logan decided to live together for three months to see if they could make it work. They were only four days into the new routine, but so far, things couldn’t be better.

  Well, except for dinner… Dinner could definitely be better.

 

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