by Lexi Ryan
My neck stiffens. I can feel him leeching my good mood from me, and I don’t want any of it. I found the necklace, and she’s coming with me. I don’t need to focus on anything else. “Break my heart how?”
“It happens to the best of us. We go in for a simple con, and the next thing we know, our feelings are involved and we don’t want to do it anymore. That would be one thing, but the sting comes when we find out we’re the ones being conned. It happened to me with your mom.” He shakes his head. “I fell hard for that woman and she got everything.”
“Why are we talking about my mother?”
“Your mother was my Emma Rothschild.”
I roll my eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense. Emma and Mom are nothing alike.”
“Wake up and see that she’s conning you, son.”
“Emma Rothschild, who has more money than God, is conning me. What exactly is she going to get out of that, Dad?”
“You’re the perfect alibi. You’re the perfect cover-up for the fact that she’s fucking her mom’s fiancé.”
My irritated amusement washes away in a rush. Harry. I never liked the way he looked at her. And that time I walked in and he was standing closer to her than he should, closer than a man should stand to his future stepdaughter. The way she spun away from him quickly, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t, even though they were just standing there. “Don’t fuck with me,” I warn Dad quietly.
“You can understand why I didn’t want to tell you,” he says. “I knew you’d think I was just after the money. But people like her have no use for people like us, not as long-term fixtures in our lives.” He tosses a stack of glossy four-by-sixes on the table, turns around, and walks to the door. “You’re my son, and I don’t want you hurt.”
The pictures are of Harry entering Emma’s building, and the dates printed on the bottom range from the beginning of the summer to the end. The last one in the stack is from last night. While I was scraping together every last cent to get her grandmother’s sapphire necklace back for her, Harry was going into her building.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” I say, my words too tight.
“It only proves that he ‘visits’ her a lot,” he says, putting air quotes around the word. “Anything more is yours to find out, I guess.” He sighs, as if it’s all of no more consequence than a gallon of expired milk. “I’m heading out. I met a woman last night who seemed to like me.”
I don’t ask if he’s going to see the woman for work or pleasure. I don’t ask if he ever stayed long enough after taking these pictures of Harry to know how long the man stayed. I don’t promise to see him later. I just listen for the door to click closed. I don’t know how long I stare at the image of him going into her building from last night, a bouquet of daisies in his hand.
There has to be an explanation, but the seed of doubt has been planted. “She’s conning you, son.”
Extending my arm, I sweep it across the table, scattering the prints to the floor. “Fuck!” The word comes out as a guttural roar.
Chapter Thirty
Emma
“You know, you can come out here,” Olivia calls from the kitchen. “I don’t bite.”
Yes, but you remind me of why I shouldn’t be here. And right now that’s not a reminder that I want.
After waking up alone in Keegan’s bed, I slipped into the bathroom, where I could hear Olivia and Keegan out in the kitchen feeding the baby breakfast. Unwilling to intrude on their family time, I went straight from the bathroom to the guest bedroom, where I’ve been reading—or pretending to read—ever since. Keegan said goodbye about thirty minutes ago. He stepped into my room dressed in well-worn jeans and a soft gray Gators T-shirt, baby Jazzy in his arms.
“Jazz and I are going to the Daddy and Me morning at the public library. Do you need anything before I go?”
I promised him I didn’t and waved goodbye to the baby. She smiled at me and waved back. It felt awesome, until I heard Olivia send them on their way and remembered again that I’m in the way.
Olivia pokes her head in. “I’m making cookies. Do you like to bake?”
Keegan just took their child to a Daddy and Me morning at the library, and she’s making cookies. I shouldn’t be here. I’m in the way of everything Keegan has wanted for the last two years. And why? He hasn’t given me any indication that he wants to be with me or that he sees this going anywhere. He touched me at the bar and in the hallway last night, but he didn’t seem to have any problem sharing his bed with me without it turning into anything more.
I lied in that letter I left him five years ago—the letter he returned to me on my wedding day. I didn’t know I was lying, but I was. The truth is, I love him in a selfish way too. I love him because he makes me better and I feel better when I’m around him. I love him because it’s easier to breathe when he’s close. If the letter had been the truth, I wouldn’t be here now, bringing my drama into his world. At the very least, I should have left when Olivia showed up.
“Thank you,” I tell the sweet-faced brunette. “I’d love to help, but I’m kind of a disaster in the kitchen.”
“Well, come keep me company, then.” She turns and leaves the room as if she expects me to follow, so I do.
There’s a mixer on the counter and what I imagine are the ingredients for cookies sitting by various bowls and measuring cups and spoons. I take a seat on one of the stools at the island and watch her as she gets to work.
“Keegan eats so healthy,” she says, measuring out the flour. “And he’s not tempted by much, but he loves my oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. He says they’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.”
I swallow hard. She’s so domestic. She’s his baby’s mother. “It’s nice of you to make them for him.”
“Oh, I have ulterior motives.” She grins and dumps the flour into a bowl. “I’m trying to bake my way back into his heart.”
Oh yeah, I definitely shouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t be telling me all of this if she didn’t want me to know I’m in the way. Keegan’s words in Vegas ring in my brain. “I’d bend over backwards if I thought I could make it work with Olivia.” “You’re hoping for a second chance.”
She snorts. “Second? This would be more like a sixth chance. Maybe eighth, depending how you count.” She shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure I blew it with him. I wish I hadn’t.” She dips a measuring spoon into a box of baking soda. “Did you know that Keegan was a massive player in college?”
I bite my lip and shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t want to admit that the only things I know about the last five years of Keegan’s life came from social media.
“I’m not kidding. The boy had a way with the girls. They loved him. He knows what to say to make you feel good. He knows how to look at you and make you believe no other woman could ever measure up when, in reality, you’re no more important to him than the last girl.” She sighs. “It’s a skill, for sure.”
It’s like she crawled into my memories and saw my first dates with Keegan. The only difference between how he made me feel and what she described is that I never stopped believing I was that special to him. I don’t like thinking that he moved on from me and made every girl he came across feel the way I felt with him. It cheapens my fondest memories.
I prop my elbows on the counter, choosing to be hypnotized by the easy way she works rather than obsess over the implications of what she’s telling me. There’s something comforting about watching her work. It’s as if she’s made this recipe so many times she doesn’t even have to think about what she’s doing. “So, he had a lot of girlfriends?”
She laughs and tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. “Not girlfriends. He doesn’t let people close enough for that. Here he is, this really easygoing player who doesn’t have a care in the world. Nobody takes him seriously. They think he’s all jokes and good times because he never lets anyone dig past the surface.”
“I understand not wanting to shar
e your past with everyone. Maybe he doesn’t want sympathy. Keegan’s had such a hard life.”
Olivia grunts and sifts the dry ingredients together. “I guess I don’t know. He’s never been real big on sharing his past with me. I’ve gotten more information about his childhood from his father than from him.”
That information is more satisfying than it should be. Keegan opened up to me on the very first date. We just clicked like that. And by the second date, he was sharing his tough memories. There did come a point where he seemed to stop talking about his past. If I brought up his mother or Blackhawk Valley, he’d change the subject. “He can be a little closed off, I guess.”
“A little?” She taps the bowl of dry ingredients, settling everything into the bottom before moving to the empty bowl beside it and measuring out oil. “You, for example,” she says, glancing up at me before looking back down to the bowl. “He never mentioned you. Not once.”
“Really?” I snap my mouth shut, wishing I could take the word back. It’s not like I want him to go around bragging about his summer with me, but to not even share it with the woman he desperately wanted a family with? Was I that insignificant?
I swallow hard. I can’t let my old insecurities get to me now, but it would be so easy to question just how important I am to him.
“But now here you are.” Her jaw hardens but she forces a smile. “Sleeping in his bed while I’m in the next room.”
My phone rings, rattling against the stone of the island.
Olivia frowns at the display. “Is everything okay?”
The screen reads Home. I bite my bottom lip and nod. “I think so.” I swipe the screen and put the phone to my ear. “Mom? Is that you?”
“Emma,” he says softly. “I need you to hear me out.”
I feel my body go hard from the inside out, flesh turning to stone to protect me from that voice. “I told you to stop calling me, Harry.” I shake my head. “Stop. Calling. Me.” Taking the phone from my ear, I tap the screen to end the call, and only then do I realize Olivia is staring at me with wide eyes.
* * *
Keegan
“Thank you for including me tonight,” Emma says as I pull off the road and onto the long drive that leads up to the Woodison estate. She seems excited about coming tonight rather than nervous. “You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did, and I’m glad your friends don’t hate me for lying to them in Vegas.”
“They’re good people,” I say softly. “I’m lucky to call them my friends.”
“Bailey said something to me last night,” she says as I park the car in Arrow’s drive.
“What’s that?” I cut the engine and pull the key from the ignition.
Em drops her gaze to her hands. “She said I’ve never had to deal with someone who didn’t either kiss my ass or worship me. She’s wrong, of course. She obviously hasn’t met my mother.” She laughs, but it’s a little forced. “But in a lot of ways, I’m thinking maybe she’s right. I’m twenty-three years old and have no idea who I am. I almost married a man who doesn’t love me just so I wouldn’t have to be alone.” She turns to me and holds my gaze, and the seconds stretch out between us. “What are you thinking?”
You wouldn’t be alone if you hadn’t pushed me away. If there was something specific that brought her to me last night, she hasn’t told me what it was. All I know is that the tension so evident in her posture when she walked into my bedroom seemed to melt away when she was with me, and it felt damn good to sleep with her in my arms.
I woke up in the middle of the night rock hard, my hand already up her shirt absently stroking the underside of her breasts. She moaned softly in her sleep and rolled toward me.
It hurt to pull my hand away, to stop touching her and make myself take some slow, deep breaths and think of anything but her soft body and how naturally she responds to my touch. It’s not that I don’t think she would have wanted me to wake her up and touch her. I’m pretty sure she’d have happily gone along if that was where I’d taken our night in bed together. But our middle-of-the-night drunken decision in Vegas was hardly a decision at all. It was something we let happen and she might just regret. I’m not sure a vulnerable half-asleep decision made in the dark would be much better.
If we’re going to sleep together again, I want lights, eye contact, and sobriety. I want her decision to come to my bed to be deliberate.
I want everything.
I slide one hand into her hair and study her perfect face. Blue eyes that remind me of the ocean she loves so much and soft pink lips that haunt my dreams. “Don’t worry about Bailey. She means well but doesn’t understand what’s between us.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “What is between us?” she whispers.
I trail my thumb along her cheek before sweeping it over her lips. “A lot of secrets, mistakes, lies.” I drop my hand and force myself to take a deep breath, but that just fills my head with her scent, and that alone turns me on. This morning, I caught the smell of her shampoo when I was in the shower, and my head filled so completely with ideas of going back to my room and waking her up, of keeping her in my bed. I had to turn the water cold just to keep myself in check.
“That’s all?” she asks. “Secrets, mistakes, and lies? That’s all we have?”
I swallow hard. “And something that just keeps bringing us back together no matter how hard we try to fight it.”
Her lips part and she drops her gaze to my mouth. “Are you going to kiss me?”
I tuck my keys into my pocket. “Not right now.”
Her cheeks bloom red but she cocks her head and asks, “Why not?”
My pulse kicks up at that invitation. “Because my house is empty and my bed is waiting. Because this might be the last time the whole crew hangs out together here, and tasting you will tempt me to miss it. Because if I kiss you now, I’m going to want to take you home and keep kissing you.” I smile at the sight of her pulse thrumming wildly at the base of her neck. “Everywhere.”
“Oh.”
I lean forward and let my lips brush her ear. “Because I want you to spend the next four hours thinking about me touching you.” With that, I swing my door open and step out of the car and walk around to open her door.
“I really want you to kiss me right now,” she says as she climbs out.
I grin and turn toward the back gate and the sounds of my friends’ voices. “Then my work here is done.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Emma
Keegan’s going to make love to me tonight. My skin hums in anticipation, and all night long, I’ve struggled to keep my mind on the conversation around me.
Arrow’s father’s place is beautiful, and the backyard is perfect for gatherings like these, complete with an outdoor kitchen, stone fire pit, and an elevated spa that circulates into the pool. The guys all seem at ease here, making themselves at home and going in and out of the house as they need to.
We goofed around in the pool a little before changing and having dinner, and now everyone’s sitting around the fire pit. The guys are passing around some fancy whiskey Mason picked up in Europe over Christmas.
“Look who decided to join us!” Bailey says when another couple comes in through the gate.
The man is tall and has some serious artwork on his thickly muscled arms. If I had to guess, I’d bet he’s a football player too. The girl is beautiful, with dark hair and a constant smile.
“Emma,” Keegan says, nodding to his friends. “This is Alex and Sebastian. You didn’t get to meet them in Vegas because they were home with their new baby. You guys, this is Emma, an old friend of mine.”
“I watched your show when I was a kid,” Alex says, offering her hand. I shake it and notice that she’s scarred from the side of her face down her neck.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sebastian says. “Sorry we couldn’t make it sooner. My sister’s watching the baby for us tonight, but we didn’t want to leave until Jazzy was asleep.”
&nbs
p; “Olivia’s your sister?” I ask, looking between Keegan and Sebastian. I wonder how that works. Does Sebastian wish Keegan would make his sister settle down?
“That’s what they tell me,” Sebastian says, grinning, and he and Alex take seats around the fire.
The conversation turns to football and who got the best picks in the draft before circling back to how they all feel about leaving Blackhawk Valley.
Mason leans back in his chair and stretches his long legs out in front of him as he scans the scene before him. “It feels like the end of an era.”
Sebastian sighs and nods, doing the same look-around Mason did. “Sure does. All those summer days at this pool amounted to something pretty amazing, though.” He squeezes Alex’s hand and they smile at each other.
“Only good things coming,” Mia says.
“So, did you all grow up in Blackhawk Valley?” I ask. I love being surrounded by all their happy faces. These people have truly become lifelong friends.
Mia grins and points people out one by one. “Bailey, Sebastian, Alex, Arrow, and I did.”
I shoot a glance in Keegan’s direction. “That’s it? No one else?”
The smile falls from her face and she locks eyes with Arrow before she says, “Brogan grew up here too.”
Arrow bows his head. “I fucking miss that son of a bitch.”
Bailey gives me a sad smile. “He died in an accident during his junior year at BHU. A drunk driver, hit and run.”
I gasp. “That’s terrible.” Everyone is so solemn that I don’t mention they forgot Keegan. Heck, maybe he didn’t hang with them until college. Maybe they forget he lived here for a few years as a kid before coming back to play ball at BHU. “I’m sorry about your friend.”
Bailey winces. “Yeah. Me too.” She climbs out of her chair and heads into the house without another word.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I had no idea. I didn’t mean to bring up a bad memory.”