by Rica Grayson
“I will,” she promised. “I won't be much of a best friend if I let you go into prison.”
Then her voice softened. “Liam should be taking care of Peaches, for a little while.”
Peaches would miss her greatly.
Her voice was shaky, but she went on, determined, “Look after her for me, when he can’t?”
“Of course.”
I was not going to cry.
“Sierra,” she broke down first. “Don’t.”
It was just like her to be able to tell.
“I’m not crying.”
I so was.
But I wiped the tears away, needing to be strong for her.
“I’m going to—I’m going to end the call. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“You didn’t even give me a chance to give you your birthday present.”
"I'll be back," she promised. "Keep it safe for me."
Luke’s side was completely silent as I sneaked back up to my apartment.
I needed that little bit of distance—it was so easy for him to cloud my thoughts, especially since the relationship was still so new.
And if I was being honest, I didn’t want to see his aunt. It was clear she disliked me for some reason, and the feeling was perfectly mutual.
I went straight for the shower. As the warm water hit my back, I thought about the things that happened so far.
I was in love with Luke. That much I was certain.
I didn't care that he’d been engaged. He clearly wasn't anymore.
But the idea that I was filling a hole his ex-fiancée left made me feel sick. Clarisse said we were nothing similar. But what if she was just saying that for Luke's sake?
And Eva was going away for a while. She must’ve been quietly planning it, and kept it to herself all this time.
I patted my hair dry and went to the living room to check some emails.
That was when I saw it.
My floor lamp was knocked down. That was not normal. I carefully righted it back up. Fortunately, it was still intact. My windows and my sliding door were both closed, and it was still pretty heavy for the wind to knock it down.
I looked around me, observing my surroundings, checking if anything was out of place.
A heavy, sinking feeling settled on my gut. I rushed to my room.
As soon as I went to my room, I found my drawers were open, and upturned on my bed was my jewelry box. I carefully lifted it. Underneath it was a single pearl necklace.
Shit.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the police.
I was having a hell of a day, and it just started.
Chapter Twenty
Greatest Fear
Someone went in and stole my things.
I may not have been rich, but someone went in, and took things that were mine.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t really eaten, apart from having some coffee.
I needed to get better locks installed.
To top it off, Eva was gone now, and I knew I still needed to talk to Luke. I knew I did. I was just scared of the things I might learn.
But for now, I needed fuel.
“Hey. You come to join the party, too?” Wes opened the door, grinning at me.
Because he lived closest to me, it wasn't uncommon for me to drop by his place. After grabbing a sandwich, I dropped by not only because I needed the company, but because I also needed to drop off the photos I'd been putting off for a few days now.
"What party?"
He sighed deeply. "Sherr and Chase are here."
"Aw, why wasn't I invited?"
"Is that Sierra?" I heard Sherry call out from inside.
I held my hand up, carrying the USB of the photos I took the other week.
“Ah. Personal delivery. Come in, Sherr brought me some cake.”
“Cake?” I echoed, following him inside. I saw Sherry eating potato chips, and Chase sneakily taking one from behind her. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Why does he get cake?” I asked. Where was the justice in the world? I could’ve used some cake.
“It’s mostly for Lynn,” Sherry supplied, humor alighting her expression.
Lynn was his nine-year old niece. She stayed at his place occasionally due to the complicated relationship his sister had with her ex-husband and the shifts she had to work.
“She wants to make her a flower girl,” he explained. I could hear the pride as he said it.
“That’s awesome.”
His niece was close to us, and since we weren’t married with kids yet, we tended to spoil her a lot.
I set the USB on the counter. I bounced down on his couch and leaned back, sighing deeply.
“Something happen?” Wes asked, watching me carefully.
I told them about this morning.
Eyes widened, Sherry asked, “Oh my God. Are you okay?”
“Hell. You sure nothing else was taken?” Wes asked.
“I’m fine. I don’t think they took anything else.”
“Luke must be worried,” she said.
I shrugged, remembering everything I learned today, and feeling a little uncomfortable. “I haven't talked to him yet.”
I couldn’t look at them.
“Did you two fight?” she asked.
“Not exactly.”
“What did he do?” Wes didn’t look happy.
“Nothing. I think. I don’t know anymore. I had breakfast with his aunt this morning. And I learned some stuff.”
Sherry and Chase shared a look.
“I met her the other day,” Sherry said carefully. “She seems very…” Her face twisted, like she wasn’t sure what to say. “Exacting.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “‘Exacting’ is fucking praise. But she deserved it when Abe kicked her out.”
My eyes went large. “No!”
He nodded.
Oh my God. “How? Why?”
“I heard about that,” Wes said as his phone buzzed. He jogged to grab it from the table, and a look of surprise hit him.
“I’ll be back,” he said distractedly, going to the kitchen for some privacy.
“She caused a scene, about how they skimped on some sugar. They had a not-so-private discussion. He made her leave.”
I stared at him, a little in awe. “Seriously?”
Oh to be a fly on the wall when that happened.
Wes emerged from the kitchen five minutes later, but he seemed distracted.
Sherry gave me a small slice of cake on a plate, and I was happily savoring the taste, when someone knocked on the door.
Wes grimaced.
“Why do you look like that?” I frowned.
He stepped backwards quickly.
“Hmm? Don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll get the door.”
The room was silent, and I thought maybe it was an ex-girlfriend again.
We’d heard him turn women away so many times. He almost had it down to an art. But when I didn’t hear the familiar shrieking, I had an odd feeling. Because it shouldn’t have been this quiet.
“Sierra.” My name slid off his tongue, like a sinful promise. “Found you."
I knew it. I knew something was wrong.
I got up immediately and turned to face Luke, startled. “What are you doing here?”
He was right behind me.
Feeling a little betrayed, I gave Wes a glare.
He didn’t back down or avert his gaze. “If my woman’s home was broken into and things were stolen, I’d want to make sure she was safe. You can be stubborn as hell, Sierra, but sometimes, you don’t need to be.”
Grrr.
Wes turned around and went upstairs, giving us some privacy. Sherry and Chase suddenly had to go, making up some excuse about meeting someone.
How convenient.
They were all leaving me. I was still trying to recover from that when Luke said, clipped, “You left. While I was making breakfast.”
I heard the accusation in his voice.
He stalked towards me. “I asked where you were, and you know what they told me?”
I didn’t reply. Silence seemed like the safest way to go.
He came closer, until I felt his breath touch my hair. “They said you left.”
His finger slowly went under my chin, gently tilting it up.
“What they couldn’t tell me was why. And so I call someone who probably knows where you are, and I had to explain myself before he tells me someone broke in your place and stole from you, and that I should come pick you up.”
Thanks, Wes.
“So, maybe you can explain for me.” I heard the concern and the frustration in his voice.
“Umm. Your aunt told me a couple of things."
"What did she say?"
Before I had a chance to reply, his phone started ringing. He let out an impatient breath before he answered it, lifting the phone up to his ear. "Risse. Now is not a good time."
I didn’t think there would be a day where I wanted to thank Clarisse, but right now, I was relieved for the interruption.
A frown crossed his face.
"Are you alone?" A pause. "We're coming over. Yeah, I'll see you."
He ended the call.
We're coming over? Him and me? Coming where?
"Is something wrong?" I asked him, almost as soon as the call ended.
"Risse needs help."
Wes, the traitor, seemed perfectly happy to see us go.
Luke started the car as soon we got in.
The silence stretched on between us, punctuated by the occasional bump in the road.
I felt his gaze on me, before he said, “Sierra. Talk to me.”
It was only a question, right? So why did it feel like my stomach was doing backflips?
“You were engaged?” I asked in one breath, hesitant.
“Briefly.”
He didn’t pause. He didn’t think about it. To him, it was merely fact.
It took me a moment to process his admission.
“I found out she was cheating on me with a colleague,” he went on.
My heart in my throat, I surmised, “You still love her.”
Why did it feel like something clawed at my chest?
The thought of it was crushing.
“No,” he replied firmly, almost immediately. “It’s been three years, Sierra. I found out all she was interested in from me was what I could financially provide her.”
“Oh.”
Three years. That was something his aunt neglected to tell me.
What must it have been like, for someone he once cared about to use him that way?
“And I’ve long learned not to waste my time on the people I could trust only as far as I could throw. I came to Fortuity when I realized everyone wanted me to be someone for them, and I was fucking done being that person.”
His hand tightened on the wheel, and I heard him release a breath.
“Last night, I let that notion go,” he continued. “Because someone decided that she’d keep pushing and see what happened.”
My breath stilled as it sank in.
He was talking about me.
When we arrived, he opened my door for me. And he took my hand in his, not letting go.
I looked down at where our hands connected.
My hand felt small in his. The way he held it made me feel like he had me, and he wasn’t going to let me fall.
We walked in Serendipitous. His warm grip was comforting, and at the same time, it was making my heart do odd little jumps.
Clarisse was leaning forward on the bar, only a bit further from the entrance. Her hands were on her forehead, and her head was bowed down, almost in defeat.
Luke called her name, and her head whipped back to us.
I’d never seen her look so out of her element.
Her nose was red from crying, her make-up a little smudged, and her dress crinkled.
"Where is he?" Luke asked sternly.
"He left," she replied, sobbing.
“Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head, letting out a steady breath. “Not like that.”
I felt bad for her. She looked miserable.
When we got back to the car, I opted to sit in the back. Luke raised a brow, and I merely shrugged.
Clarisse smiled at me, but it seemed fragile. "Looks like you both sorted it out. Aunt Helen was vicious. You're her favorite nephew—she doesn't want to see you married yet."
“That’s too bad. She doesn’t get to choose.”
I cleared my throat. “We’re not getting married,” I said.
They didn’t reply.
Clarisse’s house wasn’t exactly small, but she’d made it hers. She’d painted the walls in a light rose color.
It seemed like she filled every space with something, whether it was a strange cabinet or an ottoman.
Luke went to check for food in the kitchen. When we were alone, she turned to me.
"You're here," she mused. "Even though you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"Yes, you do." She hesitated before she spoke. “You were creative. You were that bright spark people wanted to get to know. I wasn’t good at much. Mom expected so much from me.”
I didn’t know she’d thought of me that way. “You are good at something. Look where you are now, with your business.”
She owned a small boutique, and it did fairly well.
“Thank you. It took a lot of work to get here.” She looked uncomfortable, but she went on, “About before… That time, I thought you wouldn’t care. I'm sorry."
I think I’d always needed to hear it.
And I’d been disappointed when I thought she didn’t feel at least remorseful. I didn’t know if it would ever be mended like it was before, but it was a step.
Luke came back, putting his hands up. “None. We can order in.”
“Cool. I’ll get you guys something to drink,” Clarisse said, heading to the kitchen.
I stood up, too, not wanting to overstay my welcome. "I should probably go. Leave you two—“
"Wait. You don’t have to go.” Luke stopped me, a frown settling on his forehead. “It’s getting late.”
“I don’t want to bother you two.”
“I don't know where you got that idea. You're not bothering anyone.”
He wasn’t going to let me off the hook.
He pulled me towards the couch, and in a split second, he was over me.
I was trapped.
"Tell me, sweetheart,” he began, his warm gaze nearly my undoing. “What has you so damn scared?”
He was close.
Too close.
And yet, I couldn’t pull away.
He got under my skin like no one else had.
My gaze darted down to his lips. I knew what those lips could do.
My eyes went back up to his, and I found myself responding with a single word—“You.”
Because it was true. What I felt for him had grown into something huge, and I was terrified that he didn't feel the same.
Realization dawned on him, and he asked perceptively, "Because of last night? Or because of your parents?”
"Because this is so new. Luke—” I paused, wondering how to ask. Then promptly decided, fuck it. "I'll never be like her."
Perplexed, his forehead creased. "Like who?"
"Like your ex-fiancée." I got the words out, like it was painfully obvious.
He stared at me blankly for a moment. "Who told you that?"
His answer made my heart sink.
"So it's true?" I asked in a small voice, suddenly feeling fragile.
"Fuck no," he snapped, and he sounded insulted at the question. "Sierra, you're…"
He looked like he was struggling to the find the words.
I made a face. "It's okay, I know I'm a pain in the ass."
"You're mouthy," he finally said.
I scowled, attempting to push him away. He didn't budge.
"You c
an't cook for shit. And you have no idea, completely fucking clueless on the effect you have on people. She did everything right on the surface, but she managed to fuck it up where it really counted. Sweetheart, she doesn't come close."
Wow.
No one had ever said anything like that to me.
And I found that the more I learned about him, the more I discovered I was wrong about him. About so many things.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. Then as if he made up his mind, he said, "Lets make a deal."
"All ears," I replied. This was going to be interesting.
"You have two choices. Choice one," he started, “stay the night. See what it would be like. Just talk, nothing more. No obligations.
"Choice two," he continued, "Go home. Alone in your empty apartment. Not knowing what it would be like if only you'd stayed.
"But," he said, his lips grazing my neck. I let out a sharp breath at the contact. "I didn't take you for a coward."
Chapter Twenty-One
Priceless Gift
Damn Luke.
Damn him for knowing the perfect way to rile me.
It made him irresistible to me. He knew I wouldn’t back down from a challenge.
What was it about him, always pushing me to do things I’d never originally intended to do?
"Do you two want some—“
Clarisse was carrying a pitcher of what looked like iced tea as she saw us, Luke half on top of me, and me leaning back on the arm of the couch. "Yeah, never mind."
Her cheeks were reddening by the minute. She backed away and turned around. We heard the door shut.
We moved away from each other, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. I diverted my attention towards the baubles Clarisse had in a glass bowl on a coffee table. It was an early Christmas for her.
I missed his warmth almost immediately.
“I’m not a coward,” I stated, trying to display some semblance of composure.
“Didn’t think so,” he replied, his voice rough.
We had Chinese for dinner. We ate while watching TV. It was pretty relaxed.
Midway through an alien sci-fi movie, Clarisse started to yawn. She said I was free to use the guest room. I started to protest, but Clarisse, in not so many words, dumped the problem on Luke and told him to deal with me.