Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  “You didn’t last night, though.” His eyes fell to my mouth. “You bit your lip bloody instead.”

  “I didn’t stop you because I liked it,” I said gently. “I trust you.”

  When he didn’t respond, I hoped it was because he understood I meant every word. I fell back onto the bed and playfully nudged his thigh with my foot. “Now, come back here. We—”

  “I can’t.” He pulled my pants back up. “Not tonight.”

  “David, sweetie,” I said, putting my hand over his to stop him. “Don’t do this. I want you.”

  “It’s late,” he murmured, doing up the buttons of my top. “You should sleep.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Office,” he said, jumping off the bed and pulling on his sweatpants.

  “What?” I asked. “You’re going to leave me here, horny and alone? And cold?”

  At the word cold, he paused, shifted on his bare feet, then took a step back. “The more I get done tonight, the more time I can spend with you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, I’m not buying that.” I rolled over onto my side and muttered something about blue balls.

  The mattress gave when he climbed over me. “Don’t pout, honeybee. I really do have work to do, but I’ll be in soon.” He kissed me on the cheek and then on the shoulder before disappearing.

  David turned down sex? Couldn’t he see that hurt more than a few bruises I hadn’t even noticed? I wasn’t cold anymore. Just angry. I kicked off my pajama pants and stripped out of the shirt. Maybe he’d find me naked, wake me up, and we could do it then, I reasoned. Despite him telling me not to pout, that’s exactly what I did until I dozed off.

  23

  I didn’t remember David coming to bed the night before, but in the morning, big arms clutched me from behind. I smiled, perfectly content to remain pinned against him while I waited for him to wake up, too, but he stirred soon after and sighed against my hair.

  “The first time we woke up together, you jumped out of bed before I even had the chance to kiss you,” he said. “It was total bullshit.”

  I laughed lightly and rubbed his arm. “If it’s any consolation, I was dying for that kiss, too.”

  “It is.”

  I rolled my head back to take in his sleepy face. “Were you up late?”

  He just nodded and shifted to kiss me. As it grew heated, I moaned into his mouth. He pulled back suddenly. When his eyes fell to the bruise on my chest, he released me and climbed out of the bed.

  I groaned and moved onto my back, cursing my sex-battered body. This act was going to get old really fast. I decided to try convincing him it was nothing again and headed into the bathroom to find him brushing his teeth.

  “I’ve got an issue,” he said before I could speak. He spat into the sink and set down his toothbrush. “I spoke with my engineer yesterday and things are falling behind on my New York project. I’ve been away too long, and they took my absence as an excuse to fuck off. I need to make a trip.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t thrilled about spending time apart, but I’d gotten almost all of his attention lately. “When?”

  “I’m going to see if I can get a ticket this afternoon.”

  “Today?” I exclaimed. “David, Thanksgiving is tomorrow.”

  “I know, but this is important.” He grabbed my robe off a hook and passed it over without looking at me. “Put this on.”

  “Why can’t it wait until next week?” I asked, slipping into the robe, trying not to feel hurt.

  “I let some shit slide for too long, and now it’s catching up to me.”

  I knotted the sash at my waist. “Who’s even working on Thanksgiving?”

  “They will be,” he said simply, “because they fucked up my schedule.”

  I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to fly in and out in one day?”

  He turned his back to me. “Actually, I’ll have to stay through the weekend.”

  What the hell? That made no sense. It was a holiday weekend, and nobody would be working. Not to mention we had plans. “Your sister’s expecting us,” I pointed out.

  “She’ll understand. You can still go without me.”

  “Of course I’m going,” I said, bristling. “It would be rude not to.”

  “All right.” He walked over and kissed the top of my head. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s fix us something to eat.”

  As I followed him to the kitchen, it dawned on me. This had nothing to do with a fuck-up in New York. It was about David’s perceived mistakes here in our bed. Would he seriously go all the way to New York to ensure he didn’t hurt me again? “What about Miami with Gretchen and everyone?”

  “I’ll have to cancel with Brian,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I know you were looking forward to it.”

  “But you already bought the tickets.”

  “They’re just miles,” he said, retrieving a mug from a cupboard.

  He couldn’t even look me in the eye. Something dark was definitely brewing in that head of his, and for once, he was the one trying to shut me out. But I wouldn’t let him, just as he’d never let me. “This is about the marks, isn’t it?”

  He paused and let his hip fall against the counter. “I am needed in New York. If not for you, I would’ve been there almost the entire past two weeks.” He scratched the back of his neck. “But the bruises do concern me.”

  “They’re nothing to be concerned about,” I said as patiently as I could.

  “Maybe they don’t hurt,” he said. “But they’re there because I lost control. Sometimes I’m so consumed with you, I . . .” He shoved a hand in his hair and shook his head. “I don’t think straight. When I saw the evidence of that on your body, it hit me hard. I could go overboard, Olivia.”

  I crossed the kitchen and placed my hands on his chest. “I trust you. I’d be more concerned if you didn’t lose yourself in me, and frankly, it hurts that you want to be away from me.”

  He set down his mug. His hands slid under my hair and clasped around my neck. “You know I don’t want that. But the only thing I want more than to be with you is to know you’re safe.”

  “So why do you have to go away?” I asked. “Couldn’t I meet you there on Friday?”

  His hesitation was all the confirmation I needed. He was willing to put distance between us instead of hearing the truth. I slipped out of his grasp and walked out of the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” he called after me.

  “Work.”

  “Olivia,” he said, but I ignored him and headed for the shower.

  The drive to work was predictably quiet as I agonized over what this could do to us. If David tried to throw cold water onto our sex life, where would that leave us?

  When he pulled up to the curb, I kept my eyes down on my hands.

  He leaned in and kissed my cheek. When I didn’t respond, he said, “Come on. I know you’re upset, but I need a better send-off than that. I won’t see you for a few days.”

  “That’s not my fault,” I said.

  After a moment of silence, he said, “Look. I’ll think about changing your flight from Miami to New York on Friday, all right? I just need a night to myself to think through this. To get a clear head.”

  So it was okay for him to need space and figure this out without me? Maybe it was childish of me, but I wasn’t going to go along with his plan. I tore my gaze from my lap and looked at him. “I’m going to Miami.”

  He drew back. “What?”

  “If you want to throw away your ticket, that’s fine. But I don’t see why I should have to.”

  “Why would you want to go without me?” he asked.

  “Because I was looking forward to it, and everyone else is going, and . . . and it wouldn’t be fair to Gretchen if I ditched her.”

  And because I know you won’t want me to go without you.

  “Olivia, be reasonable,” he said. “Don’t just go because you’re upset with me.”

  “I�
��m not.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re picking a fight with me. Don’t test me.”

  Don’t test me . . .

  It was turning out to be his favorite thing to say, and incidentally, in the wrong situation, something that pissed me off. “You can’t order me around,” I said. “I’m supposed to be your partner, not your plaything.”

  His eyes widened. “I know that. We are partners. And I’ll take you to Miami whenever you want, but—”

  “That’s not the point,” I said.

  “Precisely. You don’t even care about going, you just want to defy me.”

  “Defy you?” I gaped. “Are you my father? My babysitter?”

  “The point is, because I need time to think and because I must work, I can’t be there this weekend. I don’t want you going.”

  “You always tell me not to run away,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt, “but that’s exactly what you’re doing. This sex thing is something we need to work out together.”

  “I agree,” he said. “But I get so caught up in you—I don’t . . . I don’t trust myself right now. Going away means I can sort through this and keep my hands off you.”

  “Sort through it alone. Which is exactly what you told me not to do.” I grabbed the door handle.

  “Hang on, Olivia.”

  “No.” I got out and slammed the door before he could convince me otherwise.

  I flew by Jenny’s desk and threw my things on the couch in my office.

  How dare he? Does he think he can just order me around?

  I sat at my desk and tried to work, but with every passing hour, I gradually admitted to myself that I’d intentionally pushed David’s buttons. There was no part of me that wanted to go to Florida without him, but he needed to see that his guilt was baseless.

  I sighed at my computer screen.

  We were both wrong. He was running away from something he’d convinced himself was a problem, and I hadn’t handled it well. Fighting with David was my least favorite pastime, so I broke down and sent him a text.

  Me: Can we talk? Been thinking lots. xo

  I felt instantly better as I went back to work. But once lunchtime had passed, and I still hadn’t heard from him, I realized there was a chance he was already New York-bound. I hated the idea that he’d left while we were on bad terms, so I wrote him an e-mail.

  From: Olivia Germaine

  Sent: Wed, November 21 01:31 PM CST

  To: David Dylan

  Subject: Miami

  David,

  I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have stormed off. I know you’re only being protective, but you can’t treat me like a possession. If I want to go to Miami, I will. That said, I’d rather not be there without you. Gretchen will be disappointed, and I am, too, but we can go another time.

  Olivia Germaine

  Senior Editor

  Chicago Metropolitan Magazine

  ChicagoMMag.com

  In the late afternoon, my heart skipped happily when my phone rang, and David’s name flashed across the screen. “Hi,” I answered.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he said. “Thanks for the e-mail. Sorry I haven’t been able to reach out until now.”

  “I hate when we fight.”

  “Me, too. Listen, I had some time to think on the plane. I was an ass about Miami. And I love to hear you say you’re mine, but in no way do I see you as a possession. Just the woman I love and want to keep safe.”

  “I get that,” I said, flicking a paperclip against my thumbnail. “But I have my own life, David. And sometimes you won’t agree with my choices.”

  It took him a moment, but he said, “Noted.” I thought I detected some hesitation, but that didn’t surprise me. I’d been married five years and had learned how to compromise—as a long-time bachelor, David was just starting that journey.

  “I know you were looking forward to Miami,” David continued, “and so was I. I’m going to move some things around, and I’ll meet you there—”

  “Really?” I exclaimed.

  “Yes, but not until Saturday morning. That way I can work late Friday to wrap things up.”

  “That’s a lot of travel,” I said before getting too excited. “You won’t be too tired?”

  “To see you? No. And I’ll get to relax once I’m there. It’s the best I can do.” He said something away from the receiver, then to me, “I have to run. Anything else?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to reopen a touchy subject but also worried about how he’d act when I saw him next. “What about the bruises?” I asked.

  “We’ll figure it out together when I see you.”

  “Thank you. I love you,” I blurted and smiled. “And I miss you already.”

  “Miss you more, baby. I’ll call you before bed.”

  I hung up feeling much better. We were back on the same page, and we’d get our weekend in the sun.

  * * *

  I’d never been alone in David’s apartment for an extended period, and it would take some getting used to. I didn’t like sleeping without him, and I told him so. His place was big, quiet, and unfamiliar. Without him, my nightmares crept back in. They weren’t as jolting as they’d once been, but they still edged my sleep. And I could tell over the phone that it tore him apart to hear that.

  I spent Thanksgiving morning writing, which made David ecstatic for some reason. I continued to do it because I enjoyed it and because I especially liked anything that made him that happy.

  In the afternoon, I got ready to drive the Mercedes to his sister’s place in Joliet for Thanksgiving dinner. I’d gotten a stern lesson from David about handling his baby, during which I’d painted my nails and made an occasional noise to indicate I was listening. So, I drove carefully, and it took me about forty-five minutes to get there, but I found Jessa’s house easily—a two-story, traditional-style home with dark green shutters and a matching door.

  Jessa came outside to greet me with a hug. Inside, there were obvious signs of a ten-year-old boy strewn around the house—toy trucks, athletic trophies, video games, well-worn tennis shoes.

  “Sorry it’s a mess,” she said, even though things had been mostly put away.

  “It’s not,” I said. “It’s a home.”

  “That, it definitely is,” she agreed.

  It was just the three of us, as David’s parents were on a cruise for the week. Jessa had promised a casual meal for that reason and had charged me with bringing a pumpkin pie.

  She motioned that I should sit at the kitchen table as she finished cooking. “Excited for Florida tomorrow?”

  “Oh, yes,” I said. “I could use the beach time.”

  “Sounds nice.” She took a bottle of red wine from her pantry. “Merlot all right?” she asked. “David said it’s your favorite.”

  I smiled to myself. David was my favorite. David and his bold mouth calling me “full-bodied . . . with an aftertaste that sticks on my tongue.”

  “Merlot’s perfect,” I told Jessa.

  As she uncorked the bottle, Alex scurried into the kitchen looking for food.

  “Say hello to Olivia,” Jessa said, pouring two glasses.

  “Hi,” he said. “Where’s Uncle David? Are you his girlfriend?”

  I laughed, more out of surprise than anything. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

  “He misses everything,” Jessa said under her breath. “But it’s kind of impossible in this case considering David won’t shut up about his new girlfriend.”

  I fought back a shy smile and answered Alex. “David had to work, but he sends his love and pumpkin pie,” I said. “How’re you feeling since your appendectomy?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your surgery, sweetie,” Jessa said.

  He shrugged. “Fine.”

  “I was more freaked out than he was,” Jessa said. “He had these awful cramps, so I took him right to the hospital. Good thing, too, because they said his appendix almost burst.”

  “That sounds terrifying,”
I said and took a sip of wine.

  She nodded. “Thank God for Uncle David. I was a mess. He told me he ran out on an important date with you, so thanks for letting us steal him for a night.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Gosh. I’m just glad Alex is okay.”

  I did a double take when Alex narrowed his eyes at me. I was getting the feeling he didn’t like me, but I always got that impression with kids. I remembered I’d told Lucy that once, and she’d assured me it was my imagination.

  When Alex disappeared to play Halo, Jessa gave me a sly smile. “So,” she said, drawing out the word. “David says he’s hoping to start work on your guys’ new house in the next couple weeks.”

  I set down my wineglass. “Wait, really? I didn’t know that.”

  “Oh, shit. I hope he wasn’t trying to surprise you.” She laughed. “Whatever. You must be excited. Going to get in there and knock down some walls?”

  After the way he and I had argued about him buying the house, I doubted he meant to surprise me. I nodded but bit my bottom lip.

  Weeks? That soon? But why was I surprised? David moved at lightning speed when it came to me.

  Jessa arched an eyebrow as she removed candied yams from the oven. “You seem nervous about that.”

  I shifted in my seat, wondering when I’d become such an open book. Or maybe reading minds was a Dylan family trait. “Those smell amazing,” I said. “Where’d you get the recipe?”

  “My mom. I’ll give it to you,” she said. “And nice try. In case you haven’t figured it out, nobody in this family will let you change the subject.”

  I laughed into my Merlot. “That much is obvious.” I sighed. “I’m excited about the house, I just didn’t expect it so soon. It’s a lot of money and a big commitment.”

  “Well, David’s over the moon about it. I don’t think he cares how much he spends.” She slipped off her oven mitts and waved one around the kitchen. “He tried to fix up this place for me, but I told him not to bother. Alex would destroy it anyway.”