“I’m a good catch, yeah?” He bent his legs, planted his elbows onto his knees, scrubbed a hand through his hair. “My parents raised me right. Taught me the value of hard work, integrity, how to treat the ladies in my life right. Respect.”
“They sound like great parents.”
“They are. They really are.” He laughed again, then his features fell dark. “They’ve never liked Victoria.”
They were great judges of character obviously.
“She asked me out first. Did you know that?”
I shook my head no.
He nodded yes. “Pursued me for weeks. I had taken a friend of hers out once or twice, and I really liked the girl, but she just stopped calling. Ghosted me. Then Victoria was there. Just everywhere. I didn’t want to date a friend of a girl I’d been with, so I politely declined Victoria’s advances. But, damn, she was relentless.” He dangled his arms over his knees. “I figured, if she was going to all that trouble for one date, I had to give it a shot.”
“Sounds like a great love story, Cole,” I said to appease, the words so sour on my tongue I wanted to vomit.
Head dropped between his arms, he murmured, “She hasn’t fucked me in months.”
“What?”
“Not since… Shit.” He looked to the ceiling. Laughed. Dropped his gaze, missing my eyes, and landing on my mouth. “Not since the night you met Martin.”
I tried to do the math in my head, wariness making it difficult. How many months ago had that been?
How could she be with Cole and not want him every hour of every day? He was gorgeous, virile, sweet, and so goddamned sexy.
Months? She hadn’t touched him in months?
“Is she sick or something?” I blurted in a mild state of shock.
He huffed. “No. Always busy, or tired, or distracted, or out of town.”
“You’re a saint, Cole Adams. I don’t know many men who would put up with not getting laid for months at a time.”
“I’m no saint.” He twisted the top off his half empty bottle, took a swig, then scratched his forehead with his thumb. “If I were a saint, I wouldn’t have you on my mind every time I jack off.” He then pointed at me as if accusing. “I wouldn’t be here, hoping to get lost in you. Wishing you would hate my fiancée so much that you’d let me fuck you, use me, use my body, just to get back at her. Sometimes I wish you were a heartless bitch who didn’t care about morals or being faithful so I could do all the dirty things I want to do to you.”
My throat shriveled. Tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. God, it would be so easy. So easy to take what I wanted from Cole. Only, I wanted everything. All of him. That included his happiness, his success, in life and in marriage. A union that regretfully did not include me.
I snatched the bourbon out of his hand and suffered two swallows, the warm liquid heating me from throat to gut.
Cole watched, his tongue sweeping between his lips. I set the bottle out of his reach. He rocked forward, landing on hands and knees, jaw tight, eyes tortured yet determined, our noses threatening to touch.
He breathed. I breathed.
“You ever think about us, how we met, how great we’d be together?”
“No,” I lied.
“I don’t believe you,” he snarled, staring at my lips.
Oh, sweet Jesus, he wanted to kiss me. My soul begged for that connection. But I had to be the strong one. Cole was currently incapable.
“I would leave her. If you asked me, I would leave my fiancée. That’s how fucked I am over you.”
“You’re drunk, Cole.” My pulse raced, body hummed.
“I am.” He leaned closer, our mouths dangerously close to colliding. “I’m so fucking wasted. So tired of fighting this pull between us.”
I hated Victoria with everything I had in me.
“You love her,” I reminded him.
“Is there anything more powerful than love?” he asked, his whiskey breath warming my skin. “Because that’s what I suffer. Every fucking day. It physically hurts, not being able to touch you.” He pounded his chest. “How can I feel this way? How? When I don’t even know you, not really.”
My skin tightened, shrinking, tingling.
The word destiny came to mind, then escaped my lips, breathy and exhausted.
Our hearts belonged side by side. I had no doubt. Or maybe the alcohol was kicking in. Or sleep depravity.
I was not a cheater. Cole was not a cheater. He was drunk. I was love drunk but still had my wits. And yes, my morals, too, despite hating them at the moment.
I placed a hand on Cole’s chest, pushed him far enough away that I could stand, then walked to the other end of my small room, severing our heated tie, or maybe stretching it, because I believed that tie to be unbreakable. Stretched and weakened, but never broken.
My body ached for Cole Adams.
Cole retrieved his bottle, lifted the alcohol to his lips, and slumped against the wall.
I called Lacey.
When Ellis and Jeremy showed up at my door thirty minutes later, Cole was out cold.
Ellis didn’t pry, only asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I assured him. “He’ll be hurting. Not sure how much he drank before he got here.”
Ellis stared at the floor, sucked in a breath, then confessed, “This is my fault. Tomorrow is the anniversary of his sister’s accident. We should’ve had the wedding on a different weekend.”
Speechless, I watched as Ellis and Jeremy hoisted Cole off the floor, and without question or judgement, carried him toward the elevator.
I locked the door and turned. Something sharp dug into my foot. “Jesus! Fuck!” I yelled, hobbling, “Ow, ow, ow.” I flipped the light switch and found a gold crucifix on the floor, dainty and too beautiful not to be hanging from a chain. One of the men must’ve dropped it. I curled my fist around the warm metal, then tucked the pendant into a pocket in my handbag.
I dozed poolside, a glass of orange juice and bottled water on standby. Two children squealed and splashed in the shallow end, their mother enjoying a book under the shade of an umbrella.
I dared the Vegas sun to scorch the Seattle pale clean out of me, enjoying one last dose of vitamin D before heading to the airport.
My phone buzzed.
“Lacey Lulu.”
“Nat Brat.”
“How’s Mrs. Chambers this morning?”
“Oh, my Lord. Say that again. I love being called Mrs. Chambers.”
“Mrs. Lacey Lu Chambers.” I sighed. “How was your wedding night?”
“Perfection. Are you joining us for breakfast? Everyone’s here.”
I hated letting my girl down, but I could not face Cole Adams. Not without self-combusting. “I’m sorry. I changed my flight. Heading home today.”
Lacey whispered, “Hold on one sec.” A chair scratched. Muffled voices. Lacey excused herself. Heavy breaths. “Okay, I’m alone. Are you leaving because of what happened last night?”
“No.” Yes.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No.” Never. With anyone. Ever. Because admitting my feelings for an engaged man would make me a horrible person, though not as horrible as actually having those feelings. For allowing them to take root, let alone grow into a deadly jungle.
After a long, pregnant pause, she asked, “How did he end up at your hotel?”
Good question. I hadn’t told anyone which hotel I’d booked. “I don’t know, Lacey. He showed up. He was drunk. He babbled about Victoria. He passed out.”
“He looks like shit today.”
A red and white beachball bounced my way, and I kicked it back toward the pool. “I’m surprised he’s out of bed, honestly.”
“I wonder if there’s trouble in paradise? Victoria showed up in a separate car. She had a giant freaking hickey—”
“None of my business,” I blurted. Because I knew things already that I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hope that there was trouble, that Victoria m
ight suffer a broken heart. I wouldn’t be that person.
“Are you sure I can’t change your mind? We had a whole day planned, all of us.”
“I’m sorry, Lacey. Please don’t be mad.”
With a huff, she freed me. “I know you have your reasons. And I know you well enough not to push. Let me know when you’re home safe?”
“I will.” I paused, fighting tears, hating that I was letting my best friend down. I wanted to ask her about Cole’s sister, but again, none of my business. “Enjoy your first day of being Mrs. Chambers.”
Lacey laughed her genuine laugh, not her courtesy laugh. She would be fine without me. She had Ellis now. She would be better than fine for the rest of her life.
“Love ya,” I whispered, biting back tears.
“You, too.”
I enjoyed the sun for another half hour. Took a quick dip in the pool. Showered. Packed. Checked out. Waited outside for my shuttle to the airport.
My phone chimed.
Fucking cunt
I see you
Ugly cow
Hope ur plane crashes
My skin prickled. I didn’t look around. I no longer gave a shit.
“We need to talk,” came a weary voice over my shoulder.
“No,” I said, tucking my cell into my handbag, keeping my back to the man who seemed determined to ruin me.
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“I’m sorry I let you in.” I stared at the hotel sign across the parking lot.
Cole huffed, his breath blowing my hair, making me shiver.
“I was shitfaced. But I knew what I was doing, what I was saying. And I shouldn’t have dumped that bullshit on you. I was so fucking selfish, hoping you’d be the one to cross that last line, to give me permission to—”
“Stop.” I whipped around and clamped a hand over his mouth. “Just stop. We are not going there. Do you hear me? This is over. No more. We are never to be in the same space again, got me?”
He couldn’t answer, my hand sealed tight over his lips. He studied me, my entire face, his eyes liquifying. He blinked. Nodded. Took a step back.
My arm dropped to my side, and a hefty weight lifted from my shoulders. I would have to be the one to go. I would have to step away from my best friend so she could be happy with her new life. I would be the one to distance myself so Cole could move forward with his commitment to Victoria, torment free, temptation free.
“Walk away. I don’t want apologies. I don’t want to see you ever again. We are nothing.” I turned my back and exhaled, settling into my new reality.
“Thank you, Natalie.” His breath blew over my shoulder, making me shiver despite the desert heat. “Thank you for being stronger than me.”
The first tear fell when I spied the shuttle down the street. The next fell when his footsteps retreated. I straightened my spine, sucked up the emotion, and tamped that shit down tight, low in my gut, where it would be sure to fester and poison me later. But that was fine, because I was not going to lose my shit in public over a man I had no right falling for in the first place.
I poured water out of my bottle into the soil of my neglected peace lily, its leaves sad and droopy, much like that stupid organ in my chest.
“How are you feeling?” I forced a smile, though Lacey couldn’t see me through the phone.
“Oh, aside from not being able to eat and dry heaving at everything I smell, I’m doing great.”
“Are you all moved out?”
“Yes.”
My heart sank. I’d miss having Lacey in the same building. Sure, she was only moving to the other side of town, but that eight miles seemed a continent.
“Martin, Ellis, and Cole did all the work. I sat with my feet up.”
“Like the queen you are.” I meant every word.
My boss appeared in my doorway, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Have a minute?”
“I’ll call you tonight, Lacey.”
“Of course. Bye, Nat Brat.”
I shoved my cell into my desk drawer. “Hi, Janet. Did you get the lead I sent over?”
Janet nodded. “That’s a big fish. Be great to land that client.” She came through the door, followed by a tall man wearing a gray suit and a boyish grin. “Natalie, this is Mr. Griffin.”
Mr. Griffin offered a warm, firm handshake, his blue eyes sizzling.
“Nice to meet you.” I gestured for them to sit and waited before settling into my chair. “What can I help you with, Mr. Griffin?”
The man studied me for a moment, still wearing that grin. He leaned forward, resting elbows to knees, his jacket pulling tight around broad shoulders and solid arms. “Please, call me Caleb.”
The room darkened, shrinking, narrowing to the small space surrounding me and Caleb. Suddenly, everything was off balance, tilted, wonky but thrilling, too, like a ride on a rusty carnival coaster.
Caleb. Caleb. Caleb.
Your soulmate, Mom’s voice rang in my ears.
“Of course. What can I help you with Mr. Grif—I mean, Caleb?” God, the name I’d heard all my life tingled my tongue. The man was a looker, thank the Heavens. He wore his golden hair in a pompadour, smooth and slicked back, had a meticulously trimmed beard, and if I had to guess, I’d place him mid-thirties.
Janet leaned back, crossed her legs, and folded her hands on her lap, giving Caleb full run of the conversation.
“I’ll cut right to the chase. There’s an opening in our Whisper Springs branch. Several high-profile clients. The team is small, but we’d like you to join the Corporate Accounts division.”
Caleb’s lips moved, but the words ceased to register, the heady weight of his gaze throwing me off balance.
Blah, blah, blah…client approval rating.
Caleb.
Blah, blah, blah…yearly increase in margins.
Caleb.
Blah, blah, blah…substantial growth.
Caleb.
“Regardless, you are our number one choice, and I understand it’s a big move, so take some time to consider the offer.”
Had he made an offer? “Thank you.”
He rose to stand, and Janet followed suit, shooting me a wink before making her exit.
Caleb waited for me to see him out. Halfway through the door, he turned, pulled my hand between his in a gentle shake and said, “I hope you’ll join the team in Idaho. We need that spectacular brain of yours.”
I only nodded, mesmerized by the spark in his eyes but mostly by his name. Caleb. Could he be? No, no, no. Ridiculous.
Mom’s story was absurd. But there he stood, Caleb, my possible soulmate, offering a free right turn at the exact time I needed a change of course.
A quick glance at his hand, and there was no ring on his finger. “I’ll give your offer serious consideration.”
His smile widened and, holy shit, what a fabulous set of pearly whites. “I hope so. I look forward to getting to know you better.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Griffin.”
“Likewise, Miss King.”
I watched him saunter down the hall, and when I should’ve been thrilled, nausea hit and my lungs constricted. What if he was the Caleb?
He was attractive, no doubt, but where were the butterflies? The zing of electricity when he shook my hand? The clouds didn’t part, no birds sang, my knees were steady.
I needed to clear my head.
I grabbed my handbag and told Janet I was taking my lunch, then headed outside before she could wrangle me into a conversation.
I rounded the corner, unsure where I was headed, but craving the fresh air. There was no place more beautiful than Seattle in the spring. When the gloomy gray cleared and the sun shone, the city came alive, a kaleidoscope of bright, happy color, the buildings, the people, the energy. I lifted my face to the brilliant blue sky. My heel caught on the uneven sidewalk. White hot pain shot up my left leg. My right knee landed with a crack on the cement, but my palms took the brunt of the fall, my Coach shoulder bag landing
between my hands.
Time froze while I accessed the damage, the searing points of pain. My ankle, my knee, my hands. My head?
Wait.
Drops of blood pitter-pattered over the leather. I looked to my right and, yep, there was blood and even a chunk of hair on the raised planter where my skull had connected on the way down.
Not since the infamous scissor incident in high school had I seen that much of my own gore. Funny. Last time, I’d been able to stay conscious.
“Thanks again, Mom,” I mumbled through the fog of painkillers flowing into my veins.
“You thirsty?” She lifted the plastic cup to my lips before I could answer. “The doctor wants to keep you overnight. Keep an eye on that head.”
“Okay.” I squeezed her fingers. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course, baby.” Mom leaned close, studied my face. “Are you in pain?”
“Not too bad.” The room blurred. I found her eyes and focused. Mom had beautiful eyes. “Thanks for coming.”
“You’ve said that already, honey.”
A deep, sleepy voice came from behind the green curtain, his speech sloppy, like his mouth was packed with cotton. “Yeah. Twenty-one times to be exact.”
Mom rolled her eyes, and I stifled my laugh.
A nurse came by with her machine on wheels, bypassing my bed and heading to the man behind the cloth barrier.
“Well,” Mom said, dusting a finger over my cheek, her smile sad, “now you have matching scars.”
“That, I do. Lucky me.”
She kissed my nose. “Makes you look kinda badass.”
“I am, don’t you know?”
She laughed, then tucked the blankets tighter around my legs. Worry wrinkles and all, Mom was still the most beautiful person I knew. “Thanks for being here, Mom.”
“Twenty-two,” shouted the groggy man.
That time, I did laugh, then cried out in pain. Damn, I hurt everywhere.
“I’m gonna run to your place, grab you some clean clothes. They should have a room ready by the time I get back.”
“Mmmkay,” was all I could manage.
Mom waved and disappeared.
L.O.V.E. Page 12