by Moira McTark
“Yes, to Paige. The woman I told you about in—”
“Vegas.” She nodded turning away to look out the window.
He hadn’t pegged her for the type to be jealous or hurt over a past relationship but, if this was her reaction to the news of a past engagement, then it was exactly what he’d been afraid of.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Paige when we were emailing?” she asked with her back to him. He couldn’t see her face, but the strain in her voice was clear enough.
“I liked talking to you about stuff with us. I didn’t want to waste time on someone I was over.”
Her body was tensed to the point he could feel it across the car. Shifting uneasily, he laughed, the sound coming out hollow. “Well, how come you didn’t tell me in all our emails, about the guy you broke up with?” What was his name again? Dan, David, Da—
“I didn’t break up with anyone.” Her voice was cold. Flat.
“What?” It came out sounding hostile. Heat boiled up his neck and over his face. “It was hours of going on about that guy. There were tears, stories, heartbreak, what the hell?”
“I told you, I’m a liar.”
Something was very wrong. She still wouldn’t look at him. Suddenly he felt like seeing the truth in her eyes was more important than ever.
“Lara, look at me, will you? I know we said we’d put Vegas behind us, but come on. Can’t you give me any understanding of why you’d concoct such an elaborate lie?”
An idea popped into his head. It would explain the memory loss, embarrassment, everything. He hadn’t seen her drink a thing since he’d gotten there, though a can of soda was never far away. Even in her emails she’d made a point to mention that she didn’t drink, and yet in Vegas she’d been blasted. Thank God! He reached for her hand. “Are you an alcoholic?”
She turned to him. Her troubled expression breaking his heart.
“No.”
Shit. “Well, that’s good I guess.” It was more than a little wrong that her answer disappointed him. He wanted something solid to explain away all the crazy inconsistencies. Why couldn’t he let this go, what kind of a jackass was he?
She was silent for a long time, keeping her hands folded together in her lap like a little girl. And then finally, she leaned toward him and ran her fingers through his hair. It was such a sweet, tentative touch, he almost pulled over to take her into his arms and tell her that whatever it was, they’d be fine. All he wanted was to understand. She’d have to give him that. He knew her. She would.
Chapter Thirteen
She’d almost told him. Almost opened her mouth and let the truth spill out with a slew of apologies to follow but, when she turned to him, caught a glimpse of her own sad face in the window glass, all she could think was Dette would look like that if she followed through. So she’d held her tongue. Refusing to be honest with the man she’d fallen in love with.
The news of his previous engagement had tripped her up. She could wring her sister’s neck for not filling her in on the details of their time together. But Lara was starting to believe her reactions of total ignorance might not be that far off from what Dette herself would have offered. But if it was Dette behind the blank stares, instead of the woman who hung on his every word, it might at least make some sense.
Guilt and anxiety ate at her for the rest of the ride until they hit the outskirts of town and Lara realized, with traffic congestion even there, they might miss their scheduled appointment. The threat of facing Dette’s wrath if she didn’t return with the formal wear was enough to get her mind on the task at hand. The congestion in front of the bridal boutique was atrocious. Summer was tourist season and the streets were crammed with convertibles, hotel shuttles, bicyclists, pedestrians and skateboarders alike. But Cal cut through traffic with ease, jockeying for the best position on the road until he’d managed to make his way onto the main drag of old downtown and double parked in front of the white awning that read “Exclusively Bridal”.
“Why don’t you run in? I’ll circle around until the dresses are ready to be loaded, then swing back. Got your phone?”
Unbuckling her seatbelt, Lara leaned over to the corner of his mouth, grazing it with a kiss. “Yep. Perfect.”
She hopped out of the car and jogged over to the store, reminding herself she didn’t need to feel like this was a trip to the principal’s office. She was only two minutes late. As snobby as this little boutique might be, even they wouldn’t want to contend with Dette’s wrath if she didn’t get what she wanted.
Lara opened the door to the sound of tiny chimes above her head and the scent of lilacs enveloping her. Every surface of the softly lit shop was adorned with draped tulle, lace and silk. Sprays of baby’s breath and dried roses peeked out of each nook. Silver, crystal and china settings covered the small tabletops arranged tightly in the limited space.
Lara’s palms began to sweat. This place was an obstacle course and she wasn’t sure she could navigate it without a Waterford or Hermes casualty.
From the front counter, the clerk looked up with a perfectly lacquered smile and sheen of smooth blonde hair hanging in a straight, sophisticated sweep. Dette’s kind of help. The kind where they deign to serve you. The smile faltered almost imperceptibly. “Dette? Is that you?”
Ahh, there it was. Lara approached the counter, knowing she should clarify as quickly as possible but a small petty part of her relished the fact that this clerk, Giselle, judging from the silver pin on her lapel, mistook her flawlessly presented sister as having the potential to be so unkempt. Though Lara had made an effort with her hair, and even doubled her cosmetic application as a peace offering to her sister for being so late to start this morning.
“No, I’m Dette’s sister, Lara. I’m picking up the gowns and tuxedos.”
Unflappable now, Giselle winked. “Of course. Aren’t you precious?”
She was twenty-seven. Precious hardly seemed the right word, but Lara knew enough to smile and accept the compliment, if that’s what it was.
The chimes sounded behind her and the clerk offered a pleasant smile over Lara’s shoulder. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”
“I’m just looking.” The masculine voice behind her had Lara turning around, curious. It was always entertaining to see a man in a setting so frilly as this. They never seemed to know where to put their hands or how to stand. This guy didn’t seem to feel out of place at all, though. He stared back at her with confidence.
He looked familiar and she wondered if they’d gone to school together. Simple white shirt and blue jeans, expensive watch and sunglasses hanging from his front pocket, dark straight hair hung across his brow nearly covering the brown eyes—that were still focused on her. Oops. She smiled politely and turned back to Giselle, who was flipping through a leather bound book of orders.
“Wonderful. Here it is, dear. We’ve got everything hung in the stockroom. Why don’t you follow me and we’ll get the rack out onto the loading dock? It’s the best way to get your order into the car.”
“Great.” Lara signed the receipt and followed her out through the back. Together they pushed the heavy rolling rack out to the dock and off to the side where the concrete ledge broke off into several steps leading down to the alleyway a few feet below.
Giselle offered a limp handshake and wink before ducking back into the store. Pulling her phone from her pocket, Lara dialed Cal. “I’m out at the loading dock with a rack of formalwear.”
“It’s going to take me a couple of minutes, traffic’s pretty tight.”
“I’ll be here. See you in a few.” She snapped the phone closed and tucked it back into the snug pocket of her shorts.
Lara flipped through the tuxedos and gowns until she came to hers. It was midnight blue, cut in a straight sheath with a hand-beaded border across the bust and over the thin shoulder straps. Elegant and lovely. Dette had chosen a style that flattered every one of the maids. Her eyes fixed on the dress and she froze.
The unea
sy feeling of being watched overcame her. She started to turn when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, one low on her waist the other over her shoulder and across her breast. Not Cal. She knew instantly by the unfamiliar scent of cologne and the sense that her skin was crawling away from the touch rather than towards it. She tried to scream but the hand at her breast moved, wrapped over her mouth while the other crushed her back against her attacker’s body, lifting her feet off the ground. She let out a groan at the impact and thrashed against the man’s steel grip.
Frantic, she looked for Cal but, positioned between the building’s rear wall and the rack of clothes, she couldn’t see anything but the far end of the alley. The bright yellow H3 was nowhere in view.
“You think, after last night, you can just walk by me on the street, smile and then turn away in there like you don’t know me, like you don’t want me? You trying to drive me out of my mind or something?” His voice was low and smooth, edged with a seductive quality that had Lara’s panic in full force.
It was the man from the store. He was insane.
No! Her mind was screaming but only the muffled sound of her voice filtered through the huge hand clamped over her mouth.
“Mmm, playin’ hard to get’s your favorite game.” The man tightened his hold across her body, rocked forward so she couldn’t miss the hard bulge of his erection jutting against her ass. “You like that, sexy? You’re so fuckin’ hot, so fuckin’ red hot when you squirm.”
Lara squeezed her eyes closed, screaming as she fought, praying for only one thing. Cal.
The next thing she knew, her body jerked back with the arms that restrained her. The sick sound of skull meeting fist was followed by Cal’s savage growl. “You like that, asshole?”
Lara jumped, stumbling out of the way as her attacker slumped to the ground dazed. As fast as he’d knocked the man into the wall, Cal pulled Lara tight into his chest. She buried her face against the comfort of him, thanking God he’d gotten there when he had.
Choking out sobs, she clutched at his shirt. Her breath came in raspy sobs. “Cal.”
He tightened his hold around her, ran one hand over her hair, tilting her head back. She blinked through her tears and looked into his eyes. Feeling the solid warmth of his hands against her, Lara cried, “If you hadn’t come… I don’t kn—”
From the ground, came the slurred voice of her attacker. “Dette…don’t do it….”
Lara froze, her eyes fixed on Cal’s face as realization hit.
“He thought you were Dette.” Closing his eyes as if to block her from his sight, Cal shook his head slowly. “Of course, ‘fucking hot’, that explains it.”
“What do you—?”
Cal’s hand waved her off and she stopped, unsure of what to say or do next.
Finally, he opened his eyes and glared down at the pile of man trying to sit. The man’s eyes rolled and turning to face Lara, he tried to stand. “Sugar, I love you—”
Lara’s throat constricted, her ears started to ring, she had the sense that the floor was dropping out from beneath her feet. Shaking her head, she stared at him. “I’m Lara, Dette’s sister.”
Cal knelt down in front of the guy and grabbed him under the arm, hoisting him to his feet. Cal’s face was red, his eyes pinched at the corners, but his tone was flat, icy. “You stupid sonofabitch. Only a complete fucking idiot wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” He was staring at the man before him, but Lara knew without a doubt, he was speaking of himself.
“Cal.” His name wouldn’t come easily through her lips.
He looked over the man’s face. “You’re the driver from the airport.”
“Yeah, Dale Edwards.” Steady on his feet now, he looked sheepishly away from Lara.
A muscle in Cal’s jaw ticked, the air around him seemed to pulse with the energy of a storm forming. He pushed the man at the stairs. “Right. Dale. That’s what it was. Just get out of here.”
“Cal,” she pleaded, trying to pull at his arm so he would face her.
Finally, he spun back, his eyes narrowed, his body looming. “Do you do drugs?”
She shook her head, confused. “What? No.”
He stalked towards her. “Do you suffer from multiple personalities? Have the ability to teleport?”
“No,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with fresh tears.
Closing the distance between them, he grabbed her shoulders. “So then it’s safe to say, with all certainty, that it wasn’t you in Vegas. That it really wasn’t you.”
She felt small in his grasp, stupid and foolish. Dette was right, it was much worse to come clean after setting the lie in motion. And now there was no choice. Dette forgive her. “It wasn’t me.”
“Did you know before I got here?” His voice was angry, accusing. “Did you know when you started emailing me?”
“No, I swear,” she pleaded, trying to reach the front of his shirt, but he held her away. “I saw you get out of the shuttle—and my heart stopped, I knew it was you. I knew you were the man I’d been falling for, for weeks. And then Dette ran in, frantic. She was desperate. It was the first I’d heard about anything happening in Vegas. She thought your name was Kenneth or something, so when I agreed to help her, I never thought I’d be lying to you. If I’d known, I never would have done it.”
His face was hard, his eyes dark. “You agreed to scam Adam into marrying her.”
“It’s not like that,” she snapped back. “He called it off with her and she went to Vegas on the rebound. By the time she got back, Adam was sorry and wanted everything back to normal. She didn’t want to risk hurting him, or losing him…but she didn’t really do anything wrong. Except pick the wrong guy to sleep with.”
Cal blew out a short breath, squinting as he looked around the alley. “You really believe that?”
Lara’s voice hardened. “Of course I believe it. It makes perfect sense.”
“So Dette has nothing but love for Adam, nothing to cover up?”
“That’s right,” she answered meeting his eye with indignant certainty. She didn’t like his insinuations.
“And you aren’t wondering, for even one second, what that guy was doing mauling you, talking to you like you belonged to him, thinking you were Dette?”
The words raced through her mind. Even after last night…
She spun away from him, clutching her stomach. “I’m going to be sick.”
Chapter Fourteen
They drove home in silence. Cal’s iron grip on the wheel the only thing keeping him from gesturing wildly, smacking the roof of the car and elbowing the seat. He was such an idiot. So blindly stupid, he didn’t even know where to begin in the tirade against himself.
He’d slept with Lara’s sister and his friend’s fiancé. He’d slept with Dette. What a fuck up.
And, damn it, what about Lara? In his heart, he knew she hadn’t tried to deceive him by luring him into bed. All of her resistance made sense now. But it didn’t change the fact that he felt like a horse’s ass. She’d betrayed him and willingly participated in betraying Adam. As reluctant as it might have been, it remained a fact. And he had no idea what that meant for them.
Pulling into the drive, he stopped the car. Neither moved. They sat in silence, until Lara turned to him, her eyes glistening. “Can I talk to Dette before you tell Adam?”
From what he could tell, Dette was a manipulator the likes of which he’d never seen before. After what he’d heard last night at the boathouse, he wasn’t giving her a chance to spin more bullshit. He owed it to Adam to tell him the truth. Maybe like the way Lara owed it to Dette to support her. Maybe.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lara. I can’t wait for you, I’ve got to do this.”
She nodded, despair filling her eyes. He wanted to pull her into his chest and hold her. Tell her everything was fine, that he didn’t want to see that sad look on her face ever again, but he had no idea what would happen after today. The fan was in position and he was standin
g by with a bucket of shit. It was a damn bad place to be.
The front door to the house opened and Dette sauntered out, hands on her hips. Cal looked over at Lara, she was as white as a sheet. “I’m going to talk to Adam. Dette is all yours.”
It was cruel to leave her like that, but Cal’s emotional reserves were tapped. He could barely see straight, everything had become so convoluted. He wished he’d never gotten on the plane to come out here.
Lara let out a slow steady breath. She opened the door and looked back at him, her eyes searching. All he could think about was that Paige had played him and now, he’d let Lara play him too. He had nothing to give her.
She reached out and touched his cheek, the heat of her hand so out of place in the midst of the cold conflict of his heart and mind. “That’s okay, Cal.” Her fingers slipped away and she stepped out of the car.
He watched as Dette began barking questions, then her face fell flat as Lara took her by the arm, leading her down the front stairs and around the back of the house.
“What’s wrong?” Dette asked, her expression bordering on victorious. “He threw you over just like I said he would, didn’t he?”
Typical Dette. Only now, Lara’s fantasies of wedding sabotage were the furthest thing from her mind. “No, not exactly. But I think it’s over anyway. Dette, I’m sorry. Cal knows about Vegas. We met Dale Edwards today and Cal figured it out from something he said.”
Lara waited for the reaction, wondering what her sister would do. But it was almost imperceptible. Only the smallest waver in her stance, a readjustment to her footing. “You met Dale?”
Lara’s brow furrowed. Nothing about Cal knowing? “Dale thought I was you. He got a little carried away.”
“He what?” she screeched, her eyes flashing fury, the flush of red beneath her skin permeating the layers of makeup.
This was jealousy pure and simple. Something not altogether uncommon coming from Dette. But in the context of an airport shuttle driver, and as compared to the information about Cal knowing the truth of their deception, Lara was confused. “Cal set him straight, but I think he’ll be fine.”