by Kim Karr
There was no controlling my ire. “I don’t think you want to, sweetheart, I think you have.”
She gritted her teeth. “Don’t act like this, Tyler. Just don’t. Nothing good is going to come of it.”
Fuck, she was right. I brought my palms to my eyes and rubbed. “Yeah, you don’t think I know that, Paris. But this is Corky we’re talking about. Fucking Corky. And I can’t let any of it go.”
She put her hands on her hips. “And just what the hell do you think it is?”
I got to my feet, the heat between us too much. “I have no fucking clue,” I hissed, “but there’s a reason no one ever bothered to mention any of this shit. You know it and I know it.”
She took a step back. “Then try talking it out with me instead of drinking it away. How’s that for an idea?”
I drew in a breath. “Yeah, I probably didn’t handle things in the best way.”
She turned on her heels. I grabbed her wrist, fury sparking around us. “Don’t walk away.”
“You’re such a hypocrite!” she shouted, losing all her cool.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I growled, yanking her to me.
“The only thing you know how to do is run.”
“Screw you,” I spat, and I could feel the muscles in my jaw flex.
She got right up on me and jabbed her finger into my bare chest. “No, Tyler, screw you.”
I’m not sure I ever heard her swear like that and remorse flicked in my veins.
I had taken things too far.
This wasn’t her fault.
Or mine for that matter.
This was the fucking past back to haunt us.
Paris
I HURRIED TOWARD the elevator and stabbed at the button over and over until I could hear the car arriving.
“Paris, come on. I’m sorry,” he shouted. “I was a dick.”
I turned around and tears started streaming down my cheeks. “Yes you were. And for the record, my father died last night. I came here this morning because I needed you and instead I find you passed out on the floor.”
He rushed toward me, his beautiful features etched with remorse. “Fuck, Paris, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
I needed him.
I hated to admit it, but I needed him.
Why did he have to be so reckless?
Despite my agitation over his poor behavior and self-destructive path, I fell into his arms and sunk into his embrace.
“What’s going on down here?” asked a female voice that wasn’t mine.
I jerked my head toward the stairs just as Sophie Barton took her first step toward us. She was wearing nothing but a lace bra and thong, her long, bare legs all I could see.
I felt sick.
Cheated.
Scorned.
I had no idea what she was doing there and right then I really didn’t care.
This was high school all over again.
Tyler and his reckless behavior with no regard for who he annihilated on his path to self-destruction.
I think whatever parts of my heart had been repaired, broke apart right there, splintering into irreparable pieces.
Hurt and angry, I looked up at Tyler with nothing but disappointment in my eyes. “How could you?”
Disappointment—it was the story of my life.
He looked shocked to see her and started shaking his head. “It’s not what you think.”
I pushed away from him and stumbled in disbelief. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Gently, he tried to grab my hand. “Paris, listen.”
Quickly pulling his dog tags from my neck, I tossed them at him and ran as fast as I could into the open elevator.
The doors started to close, and through the crack between them I saw Tyler rushing for me. “Don’t go, Paris. I love you.”
Finally, he’d said it, but it was too late.
“I love you, too,” I thought as the car descended but disappointment was all I felt.
I sagged against the wall. I knew we would end. Knew it all along. Knew Tyler and I would never have a happily-ever-after.
Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.
Out in my car, I took a deep breath and then put the vintage Jag in drive. I saw Tyler running out into the cold in only his boxers before I pulled away.
I didn’t stop.
Didn’t want to hear a word he had to say.
Disappointment was all I felt.
Refusing to look in the rearview mirror before I turned the corner, I gripped the wheel tightly.
The disappointment I felt was my own fault. I’d set myself up for it just like I had my entire life.
Those damn expectations.
I should have left the bar low and never allowed myself to get invested in him. I’d let my guard slip, but he’d never lowered his wall.
I needed a do-over.
And I was going to get one.
With a coat of steel, too.
Tyler and his screw-ups were his own, but I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.
This time Daddy wasn’t around to banish me and I wasn’t going anywhere.
Tyler and I were still married, for the time being, anyway, but the dynamics between California Jane and Highway 128 were about to change.
It was time for me to put my big girl panties on and take control of what was mine.
Hey, you know what they say . . . all was fair in love and war.
Wasn’t it?
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Stay tuned for the final volume of Tyler and Paris in ReWined Volume III.
ReWined
Volume III
Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Tyler Holiday
I REALLY FUCKING hated attorney client privilege.
The whole a client has the right to refuse to disclose, and to prevent any other person from disclosing, known information was absolute bullshit. Especially in this case.
Staring at my prestigious law degree hanging on the wall with pride, I wanted to take it and throw it right out the window of my penthouse.
I whirled around when I heard the sound of footsteps tip-toeing down the stairs.
My gaze turned to stone when Sophie Barton came into view. At least she had the decency to get dressed this time.
And at last I had the decency not to throw her out the window along with my law degree.
I gave her my back.
It was the best I could do.
Don’t forget to pick up
ReWined Volume III
&
If you enjoyed this dramatic romantic comedy, be sure to read:
The Thing About Love
—a steamy enemies to lovers romantic comedy, also available in KU
Jules
I WASN’T A romantic, but some gestures always made my heart swell because they reminded me of my parents.
The ways in which my father used to show my mother how much he loved her were so sweet.
Their love for each other was deep, profound and full of the little things that mattered.
It was so perfect.
All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could easily remember the times my father had serenaded my mother at six in the morning because she’d gotten upset with him the night before. Or the holidays he’d had flowers sprayed in glitter before having them delivered because my mother adored sparkly things. And how sometimes he’d bring home a picnic dinner in the middle of winter to help satisfy her spring fever.
I wanted that—someone who knew me better than I knew myself. Someone to laugh with. Cry with. Be with. Someone who made my leg kick up and my toe point when he kissed me. Made my world stop. Someone to love who loved me the same way.
But my prince charming hadn’t arrived yet, and he might never arrive. I had to accept that. Still, I was lucky. I got to see love all around me, and that would have to be enough—for now.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and set my teary-eyed gaze on the cake.
Feeling like this appointment was going to go off without a hitch, I quickly swiped my tears away. Pulling my portfolio of items from my bag, I began neatly arranging them around the cake.
The Tiffany blue looked terrific against the white and brown. And the rustic look really made the color pop.
Jaxson’s business card had gotten intertwined with the photos of the old barns I’d found online for potential venues.
“Sundance.” His nickname used as his professional name was embossed in silver upon white card stock. The S was in a scripted font, and the remaining letters were plain. There was a camera watermarked behind it. His business moniker was not so much elegant as it was practical. Easy on the eyes. A lot like he was.
I stared at it for a long while. He had always aspired to do more than weddings. He wanted to work for a prominent magazine and shoot fashion models. He wanted to work for National Geographic and photograph wild animals. He wanted to photograph anything but weddings.
Had I been the one who had held him back?
Was he finally moving on?
I shoved the card back in my bag. I’d show Rory his work back at my office. Seeing was believing, after all.
When my gaze swung back to the cake, I frowned as I focused on the heart etched into the middle tier.
A wave of alarm washed through me.
Oh, no!
No.
No.
It couldn’t be.
It just couldn’t be wrong.
I bent to get a closer look. With my lips twisted in contemplation, I stared at it for three long seconds.
The initials carved in the cake were RK + RH, but I was fairly confident the groom-to-be’s name was Kyle Harrison, and that would mean the second set of letters should start with a K, not an R.
All of a sudden, I was so hot, and my ears felt like they were on fire. I was about to have a full-fledged panic attack, and I knew it.
This was so not the time for that.
I tried to shake it off. The cake was astonishing, so what if we had one tiny detail wrong? Everything would still be fine. Even as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I knew it wouldn’t be. Not with a mistake of this magnitude.
As fast as I could, I snatched the sketchpad Montgomery always kept under the counter to double check the initials we’d agreed upon. Flipping it open, I found the renderings right away, but the heart hadn’t been filled in, which meant he hadn’t planned on filling it, or he was uncertain about what to fill it with.
“Montgomery,” I called, but there was no answer.
Pulling my phone from my bag, I quickly thumbed through the emails from Rory Kissinger. Even after scanning them, it didn’t bring me any closer to finding out her fiancée’s name. All her references to him were my fiancée this or my fiancée that or we this and we that.
Tapping Google, I hurriedly searched the Governor of Georgia’s son. Of course, he had to have two sons, whose names, of course, were Kyle and Robert.
Just my luck.
I tried adding the words recently engaged to my search, but I got nothing. Then again, the happy couple hadn’t made any announcement yet. That would be one of my tasks if I got the job.
“Montgomery,” I called again. When I got no answer, I rushed to the kitchen door and pushed it open. The room was empty. They had gone somewhere.
This couldn’t be happening.
I glanced at the clock. Less than ten minutes until my clients were scheduled to arrive, and there was no time to waste. Since the name Kyle was my first instinct, I was going with it.
How hard could it be to fix?
With my stomach a queasy mess and my breathing out of control, I acted without thinking.
Hurrying back to the counter, I yanked that straw-like thingy from the cup against the backsplash and whirled back around. I just had to turn that R into a K before my clients arrived. If I didn’t, I was sure I’d lose the job because the happy couple would think I was totally incompetent.
Or worse, they would think I had paired the bride with the wrong groom!
Just as the blunt tip of the tool hit the icing, someone’s voice echoed from the lobby, “Are you open?”
I jumped at the deep tremble of the male voice reverberated through me. That huskiness made him sound sleepy, and dare I say sexy. Having been startled, I was a bit unsteady. Forced to stop what I was doing, I jumped into work mode.
My clients.
This had to be my clients.
Of course, the happy couple was early.
The footfalls were getting closer. With only seconds to spare, my mind started to race.
The letter repair was out of the question, and the alternatives at my disposal were limited. I could turn the cake around, step in front of it, stick my finger over the R and erase part of it, or rush the couple out of here and ignore the cake altogether.
No, forget the last one, I couldn’t do that.
It was my selling point.
Pausing for a moment to catch my breath, I inhaled deeply before setting the tool down, and then I discretely just did it. I wiped away part of the top of the R and then quickly licked the frosting from my finger.
Once the evidence was gone, I stood directly in front of the cake and slowly pivoted around on my toes. Ready or not, it was time to meet Rory Kissinger and her fiancée. I didn’t have a plan on how to address the smudge mark on the cake, but I hoped they wouldn’t notice.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Wide-eyed, I found myself looking at only one person, not two. A current ran up my spine, and for a moment I wondered if I knew him, but when I couldn’t place him, I shook it off. “Oh, you didn’t,” I finally managed, the mistruth forcing me to avert my gaze.
Still walking across the lobby, he hadn’t quite made it to the showroom entrance. “Well, even so, I apologize if I disturbed your work,” he said.
Busted. I was busted. I had lied, and worse, he knew it.
Could he see the smudge all the way from there?
Oh, God.
Feeling my body flushing, I forced a smile on my face. “Apology accepted even though it isn’t needed,” I responded, feeling foolish the minute those silly words left my mouth.
“Can I come in?” This stranger didn’t have a southern accent, but he definitely had the southern charm.
When I swung my gaze back to answer, he was closing the distance between us. Our eyes met, and for some utterly bizarre reason, the connection felt physical.
All of a sudden, his brow creased, and he stopped in his tracks. Had he felt it too? Perhaps just as confused as I was, he flicked his gaze away from mine and then pouted his bottom lip. It was as if he didn’t like the static between us.
The flirtatious hot guy in front of me wasn’t my client, but despite the fact that this should have calmed me down, my heart began to pound, and I felt that flush rush all the way up my neck. Not that it mattered what color I was because the hunk wasn’t looking at me. He was doing his best to put the cake back in his line of vision.
There was still a fair distance between us, and I think the magnificence of the cake had captured his attention. That was fine because it gave me time to stare at him a bit longer than would ordinarily be socially acceptable.
Tall. Dark. Handsome. Very handsome.
Actually, he was drop-dead gorgeous. And that mouth. His lips. They looked absolutely kissable.
With his partially wet hair the color of milk chocolate spiked forward, and only somewhat combed, it appeared unruly, like he didn’t give a you know what. Maybe he’d recently taken a shower and hadn’t had time to finish styling it, nor had he had time to shave for that matter. He had quite the five o’clock shadow for two in the afternoon.
The fact he appeared ‘undone’ somehow gave him a sexier edge, if that was even possible.
His rebel good looks, along with his dark sunglasses, made him look like the kind of guy your mother warned you about.
Trouble.
Give
him a leather jacket and a cigarette, and he could have been James Dean.
There was a blue T located in the upper right of his shirt with a lighter blue wave rushing over the top. Not that I would never know, but my best guess was that was the logo for his employer.
The had-to-be security company employee must have come around the front when no one answered in the back. Montgomery and Archer were probably out back arguing over the slice of cake and waiting for him to return. They’d figure it out soon enough.
Not that it mattered. I could keep him occupied for a few minutes. It wouldn’t be that great of a hardship.
The hot technician had stopped in the doorway and was standing there with one hand on the doorjamb at a point high enough to stretch his long, lean body.
I felt like I should pose in some way. Cock a hip, hold my chin up, anything to get his attention. However, before I could come up with something that wouldn’t make me look like a hooker without heels, his gaze shifted my way, and he caught me staring.
Living in the moment, I pushed my small chest forward and placed a hand on my hip. Okay, I probably looked like a girl getting ready to hitchhike. All I had to do was stick my thumb out.
Great.
“May I?” he asked.
Oh, right, he had asked a question. “Yes, of course, come in,” I answered.
Either not noticing or not paying any attention to my ridiculous pose, he pointed to the cake. “That’s quite a showpiece.”
Stepping aside to show it off, I felt very proud that I had helped with the creation, no matter how small my part had been. That was until I noticed the way he had stuck his bottom lip out in a pout once again.
Keeping my gaze fixed on him, I watched him bite that same lip, as if in contemplation. Then with a slight cock of his head, he finally said, “Birds, huh.”
It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t said with excitement, either. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. After a moment, I decided he must be overwhelmed. “Lovebirds,” I clarified, not sure why that mattered. It was just my body was buzzing, and I had to say something.
As if he were done admiring the cake from afar, he eased slightly forward. One foot balanced his entire weight while his other leg bent to take a step inside the showroom, and then slowly he strode toward me.