by Nicole Snow
I can't buckle, or give up, or let several hundred people down. Biting my tongue is what I do best in this relationship. Too bad there's more incentive to do it because he's actually trying to fix us. I have to honor that.
“Kara, babe, why don't you pick out the drinks?” he asks, softening his gaze. “I don't want to fight about this. If you're wanting to put whiskey or cocktails on the menu along with the wine and champagne I know everybody will be after, go right ahead. I won't get in the way.”
It's a small consolation. Just enough to prevent me from chewing his head off in front of the uptight bitch grinning across the table.
“I love that idea. Here, I was just about to go over this list of vineyards we're able to work with, if you'd like to do something domestic. We'll have the usual European selections, of course.” Amy slides yet another piece of paper over to me.
One thing jumps out right away. “Nothing local?”
She looks at me, baffled, just like I'm asking about a ten foot rabbit standing over her shoulder. “Well, I could check with several places in Door County if you really want a cherry wine from Wisconsin, but I'm afraid Michigan isn't really known for its –“
“Forget the local crap,” Reg cuts in, eyeballing me with even more contempt than our planner. “Jesus, babe. When I told you I was fine with whatever, I didn't mean go crazy. We're trying to plan a wedding here – not a circus. If you want something to make your brother and his buddies happy with the local stuff, why don't we look at beer? I'm sure we can manage a few cases of craft brewed swill to keep our guests with simpler tastes satisfied.”
Amy clears her throat. I'm about two seconds from getting up and walking out the door. The meeting with Ryan tonight, just a few hours away, is the only thing that makes me hesitate. I don't want to drag myself out of here on bad terms with my fiance.
Reg deserves a fair trial, and an objective eye on whatever the bastard is going to drop on my head. If I walk out of here pissed off, hating him, knowing this entire thing is wrong, then there's a scary chance I'll lap up anything Ryan gives me without scrutinizing it like I should.
The asshole across the table is the one I'm supposed to marry, after all. Not the ass who left me.
I have to repeat my mantra.
Keep it together.
Keep believing. Because thinking about the alternative – another heartrending loss – turns my stomach a hundred degrees.
“Fine. We'll do the beer,” I say, leaning over to whisper the rest in his ear. “But don't you ever imply Matt's just a stupid peasant drinking cheap beer. He's taken more risks than you ever will, honey.”
When I pull away, he's glaring. I couldn't help it.
Amy clears her throat yet again, shuffling through several more papers. She looks up with a smile after the clip holding all her stuff together snaps in place.
“I think we can leave off here for today. We're making progress!” She gets up without either of us saying anything.
Her tall, black heels sound like horse hoofs on the ceramic floor. When I look at Reg again, his eyes are fixed on her feet, giving me one more sickening thought I don't need.
I need to get out of here. “I'm catching up with Courtney tonight, so don't wait up for me. She's only staying in Marquette tonight, and it's been awhile since we've seen each other.”
He nods, something like relief flowing into his expression. “Okay, good. I was just going to tell you, I'll be out for a few hours myself. I'm glad there's a few things we're still on the same page about.”
Nodding, I ignore his last jab. We get up and walk to our cars together. It's silent, awkward, filled with tension rippling beneath the surface.
“You're going to be here Friday, right? We're supposed to see Dr. Evans again. I'm sure he'll want to go over everything you've talked about by yourself in person. I'm looking forward to his take on the past week.”
For a micro-second, his face twists. I wonder if I've caught him in a lie, maybe several. Has he been talking to our counselor on the side at all? Or am I letting the paranoia injected into me by Ryan take over?
“I'll certainly be there,” he says, forcing a smile as he splits off and heads for his car. “Did everything go well today with the Gazette's interview?”
Now, I'm the one twisting my face, keeping my back turned to him until I'm ready to climb into the driver's seat. We sat together for almost twenty minutes before Amy came to meet us. He could've asked me about my day any time.
He didn't. He doesn't really care, except as an afterthought. No different than the rest of our relationship, including the wedding planning.
“It was fine,” I tell him.
Yes, just dandy, considering I'm about to meet the man I used to be engaged to at the place where he first proposed. All to bad mouth the man I just finished talking marriage with.
Reg waves half-heartedly when he pulls out of the lot. I slide into my car and watch his tail lights disappear. The steering wheel feels so cold I reach into my glove compartment and grab my gloves for this first time this fall.
Who am I? My faint reflection in the mirror doesn't hold any answers. What am I doing here?
Deep down, I think I know.
I'm scorned. Frightened. Sick of being yesterday's news.
But like I told myself earlier, I'm nobody's fool. The Kara Lilydale who lost years off her life going to pieces for a man is dead. She died the second she moved in with Reg. I tell myself again I'm not going to let myself be used by either of these men, especially the one who almost seems easier to deal with, after the hideous session that just went down with my fiance.
That doesn't mean I'm lowering my guard. With Ryan – new, gorgeous billionaire Ryan – I know that's a fatal mistake.
I also know, after all these years, I'm not over him. And that tears me up more than anything tonight, warming my face a hundred degrees, makes it so hot I don't even need to turn on the car's heater.
There's at least a little truth to talking to Courtney tonight. I've had a long lasting bond with my old roommate from the first and only semester I spent at Ann Arbor. She gladly accepts my texts about the strange meeting I'm about to have, promising she'll contact the police if I haven't checked in by ten.
It's the last thing I do before I get out of my car, eyeing Ryan's empty vehicle, and head into the lighthouse. He's upstairs. Something so predictable and ironic it makes me want to either laugh or vomit.
When I walk to the upper floor, beneath the historic glass, he's dressed casually. He has his back turned to me, wearing a tight navy blue shirt and grey jeans hugging his hips. Like I need more temptation.
“Five years since we had happier times here,” he says, without turning around to face me. “Where does the time go?”
“Goes by pretty fast when you're left without any answers.” I walk up next to him, sighing because I want to get this over with. “I'm not here to rehash you and me. That's over with. Done. If you've got something to tell me about Reg, then do it.”
His body pivots to face me. I'm trapped in his eyes again. They're deep and furious as oceans tonight. I should know ordering this man to cut straight to the point is hopeless.
“We'll get to that,” he says, looking me up and down. “I know you think you're going to be a married woman. After tonight, I hope that won't be the case. Before I say anything else, I need you to tell me one thing – does he tell you you're beautiful, Kara? Because you look fucking stunning. If we hadn't lost five years, I'd have you bent over right now, begging for every inch of me.”
Begging?
I'm lava. I look down awkwardly, trying to put more space between us, the heat on my cheeks betraying me.
No. I can't let chemistry take over.
One rough compliment from Mr. Disappearing Act doesn't erase the anguish he caused. I need to remember why I'm here. I have to keep him on my leash, and do the same with myself.
“Reg.” His name comes out of my mouth so loud, it echoes. “Why don't you want m
e to marry him? What has he done?”
Ryan reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a tiny black thumb drive, and holds it out to me. “He's cheating on you. I don't know how long it's been happening, or who the other woman is, but it's all there. Data from the GPS tracker I put on his car, photos of the two of them together, even hotel receipts. Trust me, those were an utter bitch to get, but I did it. I'd chase my tail across Superior if it kept you from tying the knot with the wrong jackass.”
It's worse than I thought.
My stomach sinks into the pit opening up inside it. “Don't bother. You already did that once.”
He clenches his jaw. My hurt spreads to his face, and soon he's coming toward me, offering those arms I've dreamed about. Always a joy in my mind, before they turn to ash and disappear, making my dreams into nightmares.
“Take the drive, Kara. Sit down with it when you get a chance, whenever you're good and ready. I know this is hard.” He pauses, lifts me into his embrace, and pushes his fingers through my hair. When my cheek hits his rock hard chest, it becomes very real. This is no dream, however surreal it feels, and he isn't going to disappear. “Your fiance's a demon. I know a lot, but I don't have every detail. I think he's marrying you for a PR stunt. He wants a good wife who will take his name, smile, put up, and shut up. He doesn't love you. Hell, he's barely one step below his pig of a great uncle.”
Enough. My hand flies up as I'm squirming away from him and hits his cheek. The resounding slap resonates around us.
Neither of us know what to do. The sting on my palm matches the red mark blossoming on his face.
Tears are coming now, hot and sudden. I don't want to look at him. I'm struggling to hold onto the small black coffin he's pushed into my hand, the data inside it as grim as a corpse.
It's the final splash of kerosene that's going to burn my world alive, more than even his words damning my marriage.
I already know they're true, unless he's truly insane. But this can't be madness.
He couldn't look at me the way he does, speak with this much conviction, if they were lies.
“Why did you come back, Ryan? Why?” My voice cracks on the last word. “I never thought I'd say this...but all I want is to be left alone.”
He starts coming toward me again, but I hold out both hands. I'm ready to fight him if he tries to tangle me up in those arms again, an embrace I don't know I'll ever be ready for, however much part of me wants it.
“I'm back because I love you, Kara-bou. I'm going to make things right.”
Love? He can't be serious.
I've lost years of my life just waiting for those words from him.
Waiting, wanting, and fearing them.
“Who do you think you are?” I ask, watching his handsome features blur as more tears cloud my eyes. “It's been too fucking long! You can't come back and say things like that. You can't just barge into my life, pretend nothing happened, and tell me I'm getting screwed over by the man I love.”
For the first time tonight, Ryan's face darkens. He stops, several feet away, and tilts his head. “You love him?”
I don't say anything. It's like I'm in front of a firing squad, too stunned for last words. Every sane part of me says I should say yes, should spit it in his face, and then walk the hell away.
“I don't know anymore.” Honesty hurts. Each uncertain word claws its way out of me, scratching my throat.
I roll my shoulders, stretching out the aches and pains invading my bones. This doubt and confusion is making me physically ill.
Turning away from him, I walk to the nearby banister, and lean against it, starring out across the cool dark sea.
“You're not happy, Kara,” he tells me, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Look at me.”
The second I comply, my eyes burn hot again. Reaching up to wipe the tears, he stops me, grabs my wrist and pulls it down. His arms are around me, and his strong hand grazes my face, brushing away the agony streaming down my cheeks.
“You really want to know why I came back? I'm here to prevent this. No man should make you cry.”
“Well, you're doing a shitty job.” Pain twists my tongue. I can't believe he doesn't know he's the only reason I'm standing here in the cold, dark night, mourning another marriage going to ruin. “I didn't ask for you to play truth teller, Ryan. I would've found out myself, if what you're telling me is accurate.”
“Yeah, you would have. You were always the smarter one. Unfortunately, there was a risk he'd pull one over long enough to do more damage.”
“More?” I repeat numbly. How could Reg possibly do more than shredding what's left of my fragile heart?
“It's easier to break it off now, when you're sharing a home. It's a hell of a lot harder with a few kids, after being in the town's eye forever. Trust me, I know something about celebrity. The camera eye changes you the longer it's on. Makes it harder to escape.”
“Like I care about any of that. If he's done wrong, I'll leave. Whether that's tomorrow, or ten years from now, I won't waste time with the wrong person. Nothing's going to keep me with a man who's screwing around behind my back.”
He smiles, slowly running his hand up and down my back. I'm burning up despite the chill in the air. Ready to overload on hot, conflicted emotion, churning in my blood like magma.
“You deserve better, babe. You'd have it, too, if I hadn't left like I did.”
“Better?” I turn my head to face him, my lips twisted sourly. “I'm guessing you mean I should be with you?”
He shakes his head. “I'm here to set you free, Kara. Nothing in this universe would make me happier than having a second chance, shoving your lips on mine, sharing my bed. I'm a realist, though. I can't imagine the kind of hell you've been through the last five years.”
“No, you can't.”
“If I can't save you from five more fucked up years, that's reward enough. I'm not here to twist your arm into loving me again if your heart says something different. All I want is to see you happy, and that's not possible with the bastard who's got a gold stick so far up his ass he thinks he's entitled to thieving more years off your life. I won't let you marry a liar.”
It's not really up to you, I want to say. But the way he growls the last part – I won't let you – makes me feel strangely secure.
That's one thing Reg never did. He never laid claim to me like Ryan does every time he looks at me, his blue eyes blazing, ready to sink into me. Every part of him, too.
His words, his hands, his tongue, the bulge between his legs I feel every time I twist against him the wrong way.
I'm wet, and I shouldn't be. Sex should be the last thing on my mind when I'm caught between two men I hate, the only two responsible for casting me down to hell, several times over.
But the body does strange things when it hasn't been fucked good and proper for a long time.
No, I won't jump into bed with him tonight. It's a one-way ticket to more insanity.
I haven't even seen the evidence condemning my fiance, though I know it's true.
Walk away. That's all I want to do, and never look back. But I can't deny the attraction I've tried to snuff out and forget for five years is still lightning hot.
It burns, taunts, and draws me into him like a magnet.
So, I'll let myself wrap my hands around his neck, remember how good his skin feels against mine, and push my face into the protective nook of his shoulder, where his masculine scent says everything will be all right, damn it.
“Why did you leave?” I ask. He's in a giving mood, isn't he? I wonder if he'll tell me the truth about the night that ripped us apart. “Did you really kill Nelson Drayton?”
He pulls away, staring into my eyes. “I can't talk about that, Kara. Not yet. You need to deal with Reg without more distractions.”
The Superior chill sweeping up my back has nothing on the one he's just sent through me. I untangle myself from his arms, wondering if I should trust anything he says.
It's so
quiet, I jump when my phone pings. It's Courtney, checking in on me. I'd lost track of the time.
I quickly pull it out and fire off a message, shielding my phone when he walks up behind me. I tell my friend everything is fine. Technically a lie, but she can't exactly call the police over my heart being pulled in two directions at a hundred miles an hour.
Ryan's firm hand goes around my waist before I can protest.
“I don't want to lie to you, Kara-bou. That night, it's a fucked up story. We need to sit down and talk about it. This isn't the place or town.”
“Tell me what is,” I say. My hand goes to his face.
I cup his cheek, running my fingers across his dark stubble. His coarseness excites me because it's a reminder who he is.
This man can save me, or destroy me. It's like he thrives on secrets, and I want to know them all. Just so I can finally figure out which side of his sword I'm on.
“I need the truth tonight, Ryan. I told Reg I'd be home late tonight.”
He ponders it for a second, then gives me the sly smile that makes my knees tremble. “I read the draft of the interview this evening. Grounded's supposed to have the best cherry pie in the whole U.P., isn't it?”
“Mom's old recipe,” I whisper. “Same one you always loved at Thanksgiving. I can't do her pumpkin any justice, so I'm all in on what I do best.”
“Let's go.” He pulls me along, offering me his hand to help lead us down the steep, winding staircase. “How is she, anyway?”
“Struggling to make ends meet on what dad left her after the cancer treatment.” He doesn't look back when I drop the bad news, but I'm not holding anything back, assuming he really wants to know. “Otherwise, she loves being grandma. She gets Holden a lot on his days with us. The bitch allows it when Matt's on tour, but rarely when he comes home.”
“You're talking about his ex?”
I nod, following as we head for the parking lot. My hand blazes in his, warmer and happier than it's been in eons. I pull my fingers away before we get to our cars.
I'm playing with fire. This is happening too fast. I haven't found out what's going on, much less forgiven him, and everything about the way this insane attraction is reigniting screams wrong.