Order of Protection

by Lexi Blake

  “What did you expect, Win? Did you expect me to thank you for lying to me? Did you think I would be thrilled you made a fool of me?”

  Her eyes flashed with fire. “I expected you to not care. It was a brief affair. You made that clear. Why should I bare my soul to a man who doesn’t want anything but a couple of weeks of sex from me?”

  He felt his hand tighten around her arm. He had to stop himself from squeezing too tight. “It was more than that and you know it.”

  “Do I? I thought it was at the time. I thought it meant something, but when you left, you left. No messages. No replies. I texted you several times. I tried to continue any kind of connection with you. Tell me something. Were you ever going to reply?”

  “No.” He wasn’t about to tell her the truth. He couldn’t tell her that he’d kept every text, and it had only been the fact that he hadn’t had anything to offer her that had kept him from begging her to come with him. He couldn’t let her know that he’d forced himself to walk away from her. “I wasn’t going to reply. I meant what I said. I wanted to spend those weeks with you and nothing more.”

  She pulled her arm out of his grip, her hair swinging. “Then I don’t get why it matters and how the hell you can say it meant anything at all to you.”

  “It did. It meant a lot to me. Just because something is finite doesn’t make it meaningless.” That was what killed him. Those two weeks with her had been some of the most peaceful of his life. He held them close as some of the best memories he’d had. Now he had to question every second he’d spent with her.

  “No,” she insisted. “If you cared about me at all, you wouldn’t be able to look at me like I’m some piece of trash you wish you could sweep up and toss out.”

  She didn’t understand him at all. He looked at her like she was a temptation he shouldn’t give into. That was why he’d stayed away for days, dreaded having her in his home. And yet he hadn’t really tried all that hard to find another place for her. He’d managed to shoot down every decent proposal David or Noah had come up with. “You lied to me, Win. You lied to me about something as simple as your damn name. How am I supposed to handle that? I thought I knew you.”

  She stopped, crossing her arms over her chest as though she needed protection from him. “You did know me. You knew the me I want to be. And I didn’t lie about my name. Everyone who actually knows me calls me Win.”

  It was what her uncle called her. “Why Win? For Winston?”

  For a moment he thought she wouldn’t reply, but she sighed and finally gave in. “My mother hated her first name. At least that’s what everyone tells me. She was named after her grandmother Prudence. Mom was a bit of a free spirit and she didn’t like the word ‘prudence’ or what it meant. She started calling herself Win when she was in high school. I read some of her diaries. She thought Win better fit her spirit. When I was a kid, I wanted to feel close to her, so I called myself Winnie and it felt right. It felt like it fit me.”

  There was a problem with that. “Yet you decided to go with your full name for that show of yours.”

  “Because it wasn’t really me,” she argued. “Brie convinced me to go on. She made it sound like it would be this grand adventure. I’d finished college and I was a little at loose ends. I suppose in some ways it was a rebellion. I don’t get access to my trust fund until I turn thirty. I know why my parents did that. I get it, but having to ask my uncle for everything bugged me. This was real money that I would make.”

  “A regular job would have worked, too.”

  “Brie made it seem so exciting,” she admitted. “She said I could find myself, and I was a little lost, so that sounded like a good thing to do. Besides, we hadn’t spent a ton of time together while I was in college. I missed her at the time. So I agreed to be Taylor Winston-Hughes. The producers liked the name, said it sounded more sophisticated. In the end I was glad they went that way. I needed to keep something of myself private.”

  “How about not doing a damn reality show in the first place?” He couldn’t quite keep the nastiness out of his tone. “That might have helped you with privacy.”

  She flushed. “I’m sorry, Henry. I’m sorry I made mistakes and that fucked up the precious two-week affair you didn’t intend to do anything about in the first place. I’m sorry I didn’t walk up to you that first day and lay out my whole life to you. I should have sat down with a stranger I’d just met and told him my life story from beginning to end.”

  He didn’t like how rational she sounded. Logic didn’t matter. He’d opened himself up to her and she’d lied. “We didn’t merely have sex, Win. We spent two whole weeks together. We sat and talked. We really talked.”

  “Yes, we did. And I didn’t lie to you about anything I said during those talks. I didn’t lie to you when we walked on the beach together. I didn’t lie when we went to bed. It was all me.”

  He couldn’t accept it. “I told you pretty much everything about myself. You might have mentioned a few facts about your life.”

  “Like my plans for the future? Because we went over those incessantly. You helped me make sure I had the classes I needed. Not a lie. Like the fact that I love soap operas and romance novels, and everyone makes fun of me for watching and reading them? You sat there and watched me do both. Not lies. Like the fact that I am so scared I’ll get back to that place where I can’t see myself in the mirror without wondering how long it’s going to be before I fade away? I told you that in the middle of the night and you held me and made me feel better. I wasn’t lying. Those things are the real me.”

  She was willfully missing the point. “I’m talking about your family. I’m talking about your money and lifestyle. I’m talking about your history and the fact that you were on a reality show.”

  “But those things aren’t really me.” She said the words quietly, as though she didn’t expect him to believe her. “They might be facts about me, but it’s all trivia. You got to know the real me. I got to know the real you. You’re more than a lawyer. You’re more than how and where you were born.”

  “You should have told me.” She was good with words. He would give her that, but he had the high moral ground and he’d learned to never give that up.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Fine. We should start over again. My name is Taylor Winston-Hughes. I was born into an incredibly wealthy family and it was awesome. It was awesome to lose my parents. I didn’t notice they were gone because there was all that money to love me. My uncle was kind but distant because he had to take care of all that money that made life worth living. He sent me to plenty of amazing boarding schools, but it was okay because he made sure the money was there to hold me and make sure I was loved.”

  He put a hand up. “I get it. I don’t need more of your sarcasm. You knew who I was. It didn’t occur to you that I wouldn’t want to get involved with a woman who had ties to the entertainment industry?”

  “I don’t anymore. I left that life and I won’t go back.”

  That was where he had her. No one really left that life. They always went back for seconds. “Sure you will. Women like you always go back. You won’t be able to help yourself. You need the attention. It’s like you said: You didn’t get enough of it as a child and now you need it from everyone around you. You need someone filming you twenty-four–seven so your life feels meaningful.”

  It was the only reason he could think of to explain why someone would do that to themselves, would open their lives up like that.

  “Women like me?”

  He was being an ass again. He was getting riled up when he needed to calm down. “You know what I’m saying.”

  Win shook her head. “I don’t. I would love for you to describe a woman like me. Get your story straight, Counselor. Either you know me because you’ve reduced me to some cartoonish stereotype, or you don’t know me because I’m some evil woman who stole your precious sex for some crazy reason. D
ecide and stick with one or the other.”

  He took a deep breath. This wasn’t how he’d wanted the evening to go at all. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he’d expected it to go, but it wasn’t like this. “I don’t understand why you lied to me.”

  “I lied because I’m just like all the rest, Henry. I’m selfish and wanton, and I don’t think of anyone but myself. I lied because I thought sleeping with you would make an excellent story for me to sell to the tabloids because I can’t get enough attention from them. I lied because I could and I wanted to and I’ll do it again to the next precious, naive man who comes along.” She spat out the words with a bile he wouldn’t have considered her capable of. “So you should feel good about dumping me. Your instincts were all correct. You’re good. I’m bad. That’s the way the world is, so consider yourself safe.”

  “I simply want to know. I want to understand.” He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t seem to move on without a reasonable explanation.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted those two weeks to be real.” He moved in because he knew how he’d wanted the evening to go. It was the single stupidest thing he could do, but being close to her was bringing out the idiot in him. Being close to her made him forget all his good intentions. His intellect and all his plans went right out the window the minute he caught sight of her.

  Win backed up, but not far. Her back found the wall and she stared up at him as he invaded her space. “They were real.”

  “How can I be sure?”

  She was staring at his mouth, her own opening slightly as though her body knew what it wanted. “You have to have some faith. You have to believe in something. I still don’t understand why you care. You weren’t coming back for me.”

  “I read those texts a hundred times. I read them and stopped myself from replying because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. Because you were young and shiny and I would do nothing but drag you into the mud. I don’t think I would have lasted another week without calling you.” He was so close he could feel her body heat. How long had he been cold? He was so fucking cold when she wasn’t around. “I missed you. I missed you so fucking much.”

  “I don’t think I should believe you.”

  But he could show her. There was one way he could show her. “Believe this.”

  Why had he bothered to talk to her? He couldn’t believe a word she said, but this . . . oh, they could have this. There was no way to lie to him when he was kissing her.

  He lowered his head down, brushing his lips over hers. “I missed you.”

  Not a lie. Not even close to a lie. He kissed her, softly at first, and wished there was even the tiniest hint of deception in his words. He wished he could qualify it by saying he missed her body, missed how good it felt to sink himself inside her.

  He let his hands find her hair, gently pulling it out of the band that held it up and letting it flow over him. He deepened the kiss, letting his body pin hers to the wall. Her tongue rubbed against his and he knew he had her.

  She couldn’t deny this. This was too good, too right.

  He still couldn’t bring himself to tell her that her body wasn’t all he’d missed. He’d missed waking up next to her, listening to her hum while she cooked. He’d missed walking on the beach with her. They hadn’t even talked, simply held hands, and he’d let the beauty of the beach and the quiet companionship bring him peace.

  Even in the midst of his anger, he was starting to see that a lying Win was better than no Win. She said she wanted to leave that part of her life behind her? He could help her with that. She could be exactly what she’d promised. She could transfer her studies up here to New York, settle in with him, and he would watch her every freaking move. He would ensure she didn’t fall in with that crowd again. She would stay in line and he would keep her out of trouble. There would be no more ridiculous television shows or crowds of crazy fans.

  It could work.

  He lifted her shirt and let his hands move on her warm flesh. This was what they needed.

  That was when he felt something on his cheek. Something wet and warm.

  He pulled away because she was crying.

  He practically fell on his ass getting away from her. “I thought that was consensual. I’m sorry. I thought you wanted that.”

  “You don’t even like me, Henry.” She sounded very small. She looked small. Her shoulders slumped, her body curving in on itself like she needed protection. “You don’t like me, but I’m still ready to fall into bed with you because there’s a part of me that wants you any way I can have you. Even if all you want is sex. There’s this voice inside me saying it doesn’t matter. I can pretend you care about me. I’ll know it’s all fake, but isn’t that what everything is? Isn’t that the world?”

  The words came out of her mouth with such hopelessness that he felt lost.

  She stared at him for a moment and then sighed, an endlessly weary sound. “I’m not going to accuse you of anything. No sexual harassment case here. You’re safe. I’m going to bed.”

  She turned and walked down the hall.

  He followed.

  What the hell was he doing? He’d dodged a bullet, but here he was following it so it had another shot at hitting him square in the chest.

  Something had happened to him that day he’d met her. Something terrible and incomprehensible and it was all her fault.

  He didn’t want to feel this way. He didn’t want to want her, and more than anything else, he didn’t want to feel like someone had opened up his chest and exposed every single part of him.

  That was how she made him feel. No one else had done that. Ever.

  It made him angry. It made him restless. And when she looked at him with those tears in her eyes, it turned him into a completely different human being than the one he’d been before.

  She made his breath catch, his heart seize. The world seemed softer than it had been before and he owed her. It was right there, the bond between them. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it had been that day when she’d taken the bottle away, as though she’d known she might never see him again, but she couldn’t leave him alone with his demons. So she’d carried them away.

  He couldn’t leave her alone with hers.

  He reached for her hand. Tears were already streaming down her face.

  “Please, Henry. Just let me go to bed. I’ll answer all your questions tomorrow. I’ll be a good client, but I need to be alone tonight.”

  If he left her alone, she would cry and edge ever closer to that pit that lived inside her. He knew because it lived inside him, too. No one was truly bright and shiny. Every human soul held secrets. “I only have one question, but I need you to answer it for me.”

  Her eyes closed as though prepping herself for something horrible. When she opened them, she was calm and centered, and he wondered what that had cost her. “All right. What’s the question?”

  There was one thing he could give her that he’d never given anyone else. “Did you kill Brie Westerhaven, Win?”

  Her eyes flared as though she understood what he was asking. He never asked. He never cared. He couldn’t afford to and still do his job. But she needed someone who believed in her.

  “I didn’t, Henry. I didn’t kill her.” There was relief in her voice, something deep and soothing to her tone.

  “I believe you.” It was like jumping into the deep end of the ocean without a single lesson in how to swim, but he had no choice. He’d just realized there was something worse than Win’s lies.

  Her pain. He couldn’t accept it, couldn’t see her broken and weary.

  He pulled her into his arms. “Let me stay with you. No sex. Only this. I did miss you. I don’t know what to do or how to move past it. I don’t know if I can. I only know that I can’t leave you alone like this. Don’t make me leave you alone.”

  She took his hand and led
him to bed. It was silly because this was the small bed, the one David used when they worked late into the night and he was too tired to catch a cab home. It was barely a queen, but he didn’t want to move her into his room. He wanted to be in her space.

  He wanted to be the Henry he’d been when they’d been together on the island.

  Just for a night.

  He undressed in silence and when he was down to his boxers, he turned off the light and crawled into bed beside her.

  He was awkward. Should he move to her? Did she need to be held? He’d never gotten into bed with a woman simply to comfort her.

  She rolled over and laid her head on his chest. She was quiet for a moment, but then her tears began again. It was like she’d been waiting until she was safe so she could let go.

  She thought she was safe with him. It was a stupid thing to think. Or she could be playing him. This would be a good way to soften him up.

  Yet even with all the suspicions running through his head, he held her close.

  Sometime, deep in the night, she fell asleep. They hadn’t talked, merely held on.

  As she slept in his arms, he had to wonder if he was in entirely too deep.

  TEN

  Two days later, Win stared at the thick stack of files on the dining room table. “This is my life? Is this what the investigators found on me? Because I didn’t think I’d done that much. That’s a lot of paperwork for a twenty-nine-year-old. Did you dig up my old report cards?”

  She wouldn’t put it past him. Henry Garrison was a thorough man.

  Henry glanced up and adjusted his glasses. He was dressed in what she’d come to think of as his casual chic. Slacks and loafers with a button-down, but he could easily strap on a tie and jacket and change into SuperLawyer. When he put those nerdy, hot glasses on, he was right back to Clark Kent. “This is what I’ve had McKay-Taggart working on. Did you meet the investigators?”

  She shook her head and leaned against the table. “I was in a meeting with Margarita when they came up yesterday. I was laying out the murder scene. She has this software that re-creates the space. Which is my childhood bedroom, so it was a little freaky, but we got it done. Right down to where Mr. Bear was sitting when the action went down. I think he’s going to need some serious therapy.”