by Lexi Blake
How far had she gotten? He picked up his shoes. He could at least see if she’d gone toward the beach or out the front of the property.
He was in the hallway when he heard the soft sound of television news playing in the kitchen. It had been a quirk of his grandmother’s. She liked to cook and watch her stories, so the small TV had never been taken out of the kitchen. Now the sound wasn’t soap operas playing, but morning news hosts discussing the storm and its aftermath.
He pushed the swinging door open and there was Win, back in his Harvard shirt, wearing it like the sexiest nightie he’d ever seen. The shirt hit her at midthigh, and she had nothing else on, leaving her legs and feet, with their bright-blue toenails, on display. She didn’t have polish on her fingers. Her fingernails were utilitarian, but those toes were vivid and feminine. She’d pulled her hair up and looked ridiculously young, still without an ounce of makeup on. She was stirring something in a bowl and had the oven turned on and a muffin pan out.
She looked right standing in his kitchen.
“Yeah, I thought you would be like that.”
She turned, her eyes going wide. “I didn’t know you were awake. I hope it’s all right that I poked around the kitchen.”
“You can poke around anywhere you like.” There were no secrets in this house. Now if they’d been in Manhattan, he would have told her to stay out of his office. He had client files there and wouldn’t want her accidently seeing them and breaching confidentiality. Everything was open here.
“What did you think I would be like?” Win asked.
He should keep his distance, but he couldn’t. He dropped his shoes and closed the space between them. Something had happened the night before. Something different. He wasn’t sure he trusted it, but he knew he wanted to explore it. He leaned over and kissed her. “I knew that I could do dirty, filthy, glorious things to you and it wouldn’t even start to get rid of that innocent look in your eyes.”
“I don’t feel innocent, Henry,” she said with the cutest wrinkle of her nose. “I’m actually quite sore.”
He couldn’t help but laugh because she’d dropped her tone like she didn’t want anyone to hear. He hugged her close. “Sorry, sweetheart. You’ll get used to it.”
Her chin tilted up, resting on his chest. “I will? I thought this was a one-night thing.”
It was supposed to be. He was supposed to ship her off with a kiss and thanks for getting him through a rough night. There was only one problem with that scenario. He didn’t want to do that.
He liked her. A lot.
“I’m here for a couple of weeks before I have to get back to real life.” He smoothed back her hair. “How about you? How long do you have until you have to report to Duke?”
“I’ve got a few weeks,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind hanging out with you while you’re here. You could show me your favorite parts of the island. I could show you mine.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Deal.” He groaned as he heard his cell phone trill. “Ah, did I mention coverage is back? I think I liked it better when it was all out. No cell phones. No electricity. I liked roughing it last night.”
She stepped back. “You only think that. When you woke up without coffee this morning, you would have been sad.”
“How do you know I even drink coffee?” He was a two-pot-a-day addict, especially since he’d given up the liquor. He could drink coffee all damn day long, and the heavenly scent hit him as Win turned and poured him a cup. She’d made him coffee. There was something deeply intimate and domestic about the act that reminded Henry of how long it had been since he’d had anything like it.
She offered it up to him. “I’m excellent at deductive reasoning. There’s very little in this kitchen. It’s obvious you don’t place a big emphasis on food, but there’s a five-pound bag of French roast. I also guessed you take it black since there’s no cream. Do you want sugar?”
His day was looking up. He shook his head. “Nope. This is perfect. And you would be shocked at the emphasis I can place on food when someone else is cooking.” He was hungry. How long had it been since he’d been honestly hungry? A long time. He would handle the phone call and then they could eat and maybe they could take a walk on the beach, see what damage the storm had done. There was something peaceful about the beach after a storm, as though it needed to make up for the violence of before. Or he could ignore the world entirely for a day or two. He was supposed to be taking a little time. He glanced down at his cell. It was David. He could call him back later. “What are you making?”
She glanced up, a wooden spoon in her hand. “Muffins. They’re pretty plain though. I did find some chocolate chips, so we’re eating like we’re in grade school.”
“There’s nothing wrong with chocolate chips, woman.” He leaned against the table, watching her cook. “They make the best cookies.”
“How long have you been here?” she asked as she started to spoon the mix into the muffin pan.
He shrugged. “Three days.”
“Do you believe in vegetables? How about fruit?” She shook her head. “You’re going to have to buy groceries if I’m going to feed you.”
“Done.” How long had it been since he’d eaten anything but takeout or something he could microwave? “There’s a little grocery about two miles from here. Even if the beach is washed out, we can get there by Jeep. Not the greatest selection, but you can make it work. I have faith in you.”
She was about to say something when there was a knock on the door. Her eyes widened, and for a moment he would have sworn she looked scared.
“Hey, it’s all right.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s probably one of the neighbors. We check on each other out here.”
He would need to walk the beach and make sure his elderly neighbors had come through the storm all right. His grandfather would have had his head if he didn’t.
She stood up taller, her shoulders going back. “It might be my uncle. I told my friends where I was last night, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to make it over here. Henry, we should talk about something.”
“Hello? Henry, you here?”
He closed his eyes. Damn it. He knew that voice well. That voice should be back in the city. “It’s not your uncle. That’s my partner. His name is David, and apparently he’s worried about storms and good with locks. Unless I forgot to lock the door.”
It was actually pretty easy to forget out here.
The door swung open, and David strode in. He sighed as he saw Henry. “Thank god. I thought something happened to you.”
He wasn’t alone. A kid walked in behind him. Kid? Noah Lawless was twenty-eight years old, but there was something about his movie-star good looks that made Henry think of him as a kid. He’d graduated top of his class at Yale and done a two-year associate gig at one of Manhattan’s top legal firms. “You really need better locks. Who knew David picked locks? I told him it was probably something trivial.” He caught sight of Win standing by the stove. “Or something incredibly important that we shouldn’t have interrupted. Hi, I’m Noah. Sorry to intrude.”
He held out a hand that Win took and shook, her pretty mouth frowning.
“I should go get dressed.” She winced as she looked up at him. “I’ll call my friends. They can come get me if you need to work.”
That was the last thing he wanted.
“I do not need to work and you don’t need to do anything at all except finish our breakfast.” He kissed the top of her head. “These guys will be out of here in no time at all. Come on, David. Let’s talk out in the living room.” He held the door open. “Noah, you can come, too. And maybe someone can explain why you’re here.”
He winked Win’s way but could easily see he would be in for a lecture about proper introductions and etiquette. He would take it—after he’d gotten rid of their impromptu guests. “We don�
��t have enough food for them, sweetheart. You’re right about the fact that I’m not properly stocked up.” He nabbed his coffee. “Also, I don’t even like them.”
“Henry, that was rude,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said. “They should have called.”
He let the door close before she could follow up on her argument.
“Should have called? I called about fifty times,” David pointed out. He turned and walked down the hall. “I left several voice mails. I know that the storm last night caused some coverage to get lost, but you should have called back before now. What the hell is happening? You never ignore your cell.”
But he’d been smart enough to silence the fucker the night before. He’d known service would come back at some point, and he hadn’t wanted to get interrupted. Not when they’d been having sex, and not when he’d been curled around her and sleeping.
Funny how he’d enjoyed the latter as much as the former.
“I didn’t want to wake up Win,” he admitted.
“Win?” Noah asked. “Is that her name? She looks oddly familiar. I can’t place her though.”
“I doubt you’ve met her. She lives out here.” The last thing he wanted was Win getting to know the younger, less-dark-and-snarky, hadn’t-fucked-up-his-whole-life-yet Noah Lawless. She was about the same age as Noah, and who really hated a billionaire’s brother? Henry hadn’t met the woman yet who counted that on the con side. “Please explain to me why you’re here. I don’t get it. David is an old worried mother hen, but we’ve barely talked to each other.”
“He needed a pilot,” Noah replied. If he’d even noticed Henry’s irritated tone, he didn’t show it. He was busy looking around the living room as though cataloging the place for later study. “And a plane. I provided both.”
Naturally. The kid got better and better. “Well, now you can see I’m perfectly fine and you can go.”
“I didn’t come out here to see if you were fine.” There was something about the dark look in David’s eyes that made Henry stop.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Alicia. She gave an interview to Rolling Stone,” David began.
“And she’s going on the morning talk shows talking about how your marriage fits into her new movie role as the abused wife of an alcoholic.” Noah finished laying it out, no real sympathy in his voice. “I’ve already drafted a cease and desist, but David won’t let me send it off without your approval.”
His stomach dropped. She’d done what? “We have a confidentiality clause.”
He’d insisted on it. Oh, he’d known damn well it wouldn’t stop her from talking to her friends, but he’d thought it would shut her up when it came to the media. It was one thing to have a bunch of rumors hanging around. They would go away after a while, a new controversy taking over the news cycle once he was no longer in the immediate public eye. The one thing that could keep him there was Alicia herself.
“And I’m invoking it,” Noah replied.
“The trouble is she doesn’t name you,” David explained. “She talks about the great love of her life and how hard it was to let go of the man she loved when she lost him to booze and other women.”
“I never cheated on her.” Not once. Not even when he’d realized she was sleeping with her director. “And I certainly never hit her. Never.”
His stomach was in knots and his brain went right to where he didn’t want the fucker to go. He wanted a drink, and not coffee.
“I wanted to tell you before you turned on the TV and saw it for yourself. She’s using you to try to up her chances during awards season.” David paced the floor. “She’s being careful about not naming names.”
“Doesn’t matter.” If she didn’t name him, there would be plenty of on-air personalities who would. “It’ll get out.”
“Or I can explain things to Ms. Kingman.” Noah finally turned. “That is, if you’ll allow me to act as your lawyer.”
“David is my lawyer.” He trusted David.
“I think in this case we should let Noah handle it,” David suggested.
He shook his head. He wasn’t sure there would be any way to handle it. Yes, they had a confidentiality clause, but everyone knew there were a million ways around it. And if he sued her, he’d out himself as the man she was talking about and keep the headlines going. “Noah is new and doesn’t understand the subtleties. He’s a baby and I need a shark. I need someone subtle and not some mewling infant lawyer who will likely make the problems worse.”
David winced. “Well, don’t mince words, brother.”
“You know I never do.” It was one of his problems in life. He turned to Noah, who had a placid look on his face. “I have nothing against you.”
“You shouldn’t since I’m the reason you have a firm in the first place,” Noah replied quietly.
Maybe he did have some problems with the kid. “And I’m the reason anyone with a half a brain will take you seriously. How many cases have you tried? Ten? Twelve? I’ve tried five hundred and forty-two and lost exactly ten of those. While you were playing around on your brother’s dime, I was hustling and building a reputation. There’s a reason they call me the Monster of Manhattan.”
“Yes, I believe they’re throwing that around on the talk shows this morning, too, though in a different context.” Noah sat down on the sofa. “And while I was playing around on my brother’s dime, I was also learning from him. If you think you’re ruthless, I don’t know what you would call my brother. Oh, just because he doesn’t feel the need to bare his fangs all the time like you do doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them.”
“Will you please listen to the kid?” David urged.
“How about we stop calling me a kid,” Noah replied.
“He wants to send her a cease and desist.” It was ridiculous. “Do you honestly believe she’s going to get a little piece of paper in her hand and stop talking? Nothing is more important to that woman than winning an Oscar. If she thinks selling me out will help her chances, she will do it without a single regret.”
Why had he thought anything would change? She would trot him out every time she wanted some sympathy or to punish him for not being what she needed. The woman didn’t know what she needed, but she did appreciate punishing those she felt had failed her. It would be this way the rest of his life. He would be the brute who had pushed around America’s sweetheart and made her cry. No one would care that she matched him drink for drink, screaming match for screaming match, that he couldn’t even play her game when it came to infidelities.
He wished the storm had never passed. He could be safe and warm in bed with Win. He could have rolled her over and had her again, making love to her over and over until they didn’t have the strength to do it anymore and they simply lay there in each other’s arms. Happy and sleepy and satisfied.
Win. Who was watching TV. Win, who didn’t even know who he was. Not really.
He stalked out of the room and slammed open the door to the kitchen. Win was standing there, staring at the TV. Of course she was. His face was plain as day on the screen. They’d used a photo where he was in a suit with a bolo tie, wearing sunglasses and looking like the world’s biggest douchebag. Alicia’s stylist had forced him into that, saying she wanted him to stand out. He was smiling, but Henry knew that dumbass grin. He was drunk, and if he’d taken the sunglasses off, his eyes would have been rimmed with red. He stopped, listening to the national morning personalities discussing his life like they fucking knew something about it.
“Well, she’s being coy about names, but it’s obvious to anyone who knows the story that she’s talking about her fourth husband,” the bleach blonde with fake everything said with a shake of her head toward her slightly less fake, younger brunette colleague. “Henry Garrison’s violent temper and problems with alcohol are widely known.”
The brunette tried her b
est to look somewhat intellectual. “I agree, Brandi. She was very young when she married her first husband. Her second husband was an extra on the set of her first movie. The marriage lasted roughly three months. That hardly fits the narrative Alicia Kingman is telling. And while she was married to a producer for five years, nothing compares to the passionate and dangerous marriage to the volatile New York lawyer. I, for one, was shocked she married him in the first place. I guess we all love a bad boy.”
He reached over and turned the TV off. Well, that had been a short relationship. “We should talk.”
Win looked shocked, like she couldn’t quite believe what she’d seen. It was time to play this properly. He wasn’t going to get his quiet weeks with her. He was going to get to fight it out in the press, and it would be ugly and nasty and there would be no peace for him. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to even try to drag someone like Win into his world. “Something’s come up with work and I’m going to need you to leave. I’ll call a cab. Or actually, my law partner can drop you off.”
“You want me to leave?” She asked the question like she didn’t quite understand the words she was saying.
“Like I said, something came up.” He hated how cold he felt, but it was time for distance. It had been one thing when he’d thought he could spend a week or two with her and she would get out of it unharmed.
“Is it about Alicia Kingman?” She asked the question quietly, more than a hint of sympathy in her tone.
“She’s my ex-wife and she’s none of your business.” The last thing he was going to do was discuss the apocalypse that had been his marriage. She didn’t need to think any less of him than she likely already did. How long had she been watching? Alicia was an excellent actress. She probably cried as she haltingly talked about how much she’d loved him. She cried beautifully. Then her voice would crack slightly when she explained she’d had to find the strength to love herself more.