Perfect Wreckage (The Wrecked Series Book 2)

by Catherine Cowles

  She made it sound as if she’d forgotten to let the dog out, and it peed on the rug. I’d given my all to this woman. I’d worked endless hours at the firm to make partner because she wanted me to be the best. Now, I could see it was because she wanted the status of being attached to someone at the top. I’d funded endless shopping sprees and vacations. Bought the house Alicia wanted, even though I’d hated it. I’d become a completely different person for her, but even that wasn’t enough.

  I’d never forget walking into the Ritz in Boston for a meeting with a client and finding Alicia wrapped around my best friend, their mouths fused as the doors of an elevator closed. It was interesting how one single breath could make a house of cards fall. How you could suddenly realize that the foundation you’d been putting in place was actually set on sand.

  Because as soon as Alicia disappeared from my life, so did a lot of other things. Friends had chosen sides, business associates had grown uncomfortable, and the newfound relationship with my parents had gone up in smoke. The truth was that none of what I had built while I was with Alicia was real. Now, I wouldn’t settle for anything less in any aspect of my life.

  I gave my head a quick shake, trying to clear the memories. “Don’t call again, Alicia. We’re done. There’s nothing we need to talk about. I want no part of you in my life. If you call again, I’ll block you.” I hit End on my screen and dropped the phone with a satisfying thunk into the cupholder.

  I pressed my hands against the wheel, the muscles in my arms bunching and straining as the wheel creaked. I wasn’t wrapped up in that life anymore. I never would be again. I was free. The life I had now had no constraints, no rules. I needed a reminder of that. I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. It was almost five-thirty. Too late to get any decent climbing or mountain biking in, but I had something else in mind anyway.

  An electronic bell sounded as I pulled open the door to Cornerstone CPAs. It was a small building, nothing on Anchor was exactly huge, but it looked as if it housed quite a few offices. A young woman behind the front desk blinked a few times as she took me in. “Hello, can I help you? Crosby, right?”

  “Yes, I’m looking for—”

  “Mr. McCoy, it’s good to see you. Have you come to talk about bringing your business to Cornerstone? You know I’d be happy to take you on as a personal client.”

  I winced at the man who’d stepped into the reception area. Chris Woodward, manager of this branch of Cornerstone, had come to see me not long after I’d settled on Anchor and set up my law office. I had no doubt that he’d heard I’d bought a house on the bluff and came from east coast money. The man had been smarmy and grasping. I’d been planning to find a local accountant, but two minutes with this man had me staying put with my CPA in Boston.

  “Sorry, Chris. I’m here on personal business.” I sidestepped the man and headed through the open space dotted with cubicles, weaving through until I found one of the nicer offices with a familiar name on the door. I knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Of course, Kenna was one of the handful of people still here at a few minutes past six. I pushed the door open, and a healthy dose of lust shot through me at the sight of her. Kenna stood behind her desk, looking as if she’d been organizing papers into stacks. I’d seen Kenna in her work get-up before, and it was always tempting, but today’s outfit might just be the death of me. She’d lost her blazer at some point during the day, and it now hung neatly on a hanger on the side of a filing cabinet. Without it, she was left in a white blouse that dipped slightly in the front, strands of gauzy fabric tied in an oversize bow over her breasts.

  All I could think about was what would happen if I gave one of the ends of that material a nice tug. Then there was the skirt. The bottom disappeared below her desk, so it had to go to her knees, but it was one of those deals that cut in, hugging her ass and thighs in a way that had all sorts of images flying through my brain. Fantasies the woman in front of me would surely deck me for.

  “Crosby.” Pink hit Kenna’s cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

  I swallowed hard, willing myself to get it together. “We’re going on our first adventure.”

  She glanced at her watch. “It’s already after six, and I still have a few things to finish up here.”

  “It was quitting time over an hour ago. Don’t think I don’t know you get here an hour, sometimes two before everyone else. You can finish up whatever this is tomorrow.”

  The glare I loved so much swept across Kenna’s face, the one that seemed to make her amber eyes glow. “Some of us take our jobs seriously. We can’t just come and go whenever the mood strikes us.”

  I grinned. “Come on, Brown Eyes. Live dangerously.”

  It was the challenge in my voice that did it. The tone that asked, “Are you chicken?”

  “Fine.” She bent to open the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, and I nearly groaned when the fabric of her skirt pulled tight across her ass. She straightened, purse in hand, and grabbed her blazer from the hanger.

  “You won’t need that where we’re going.”

  She arched a brow. “And where is that, pray tell?”

  “I love it when you get all pretentious with me.” I held out a hand. Kenna ignored it and scowled in my direction instead. “Relax, we’re going to The Catch.”

  “That’s not an adventure, Crosby. I go there five days a week, at least.”

  I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She fit so perfectly there, seemed to melt right into my side. “It’s not an adventure the way you do it, but just wait until you see what I have in store.”

  Kenna groaned. “I have no desire to drink endless disgusting dark beer and talk rock climbing with Ford.”

  “Bite your tongue. Guinness is the drink of the gods.”

  “Maybe the gods of hell. That stuff is nasty.”

  Kenna slipped out from under my arm as she walked out of her office. I felt the loss of her instantly, her warmth, the pressure of her body against mine. The chemistry flowing between us was throwing me for a loop. Kenna nodded at Chris, who glared in our direction, and waved to the receptionist, who was packing up.

  I grabbed hold of Kenna’s hand as soon as we were out the front door, tugging her away from her practical sedan and towards my truck. “I’ll drop you back at your car when we’re done.”

  Kenna gave a pull of resistance. “That’s just one extra stop you need to make. It makes no sense.”

  I leaned in close. “Sometimes, a nonsensical life is just more fun. And maybe I want more time with you. Or I could just want to feel what’s under that skirt.”

  My hand skimmed the curve of her ass, and Kenna swatted it away. “You’ll keep your hands to yourself while we’re driving and in front of anyone we know.”

  I reared back. “Why would I do that?”

  “So we don’t get in a car wreck.”

  “And the other?”

  Kenna stiffened her spine. “Because this is temporary. I don’t want our friends thinking it’s something it’s not.”

  My back teeth ground together. “Our friends are grownups. They can deal with us having something casual.” I was practically pouting. I wanted my hands on Kenna as much as possible, and this rule would really cramp that.

  “You’ve met Caelyn, right? You know, the hopeless romantic who loves Disney movies just as much as her elementary-aged sisters? There is nothing we could say that would convince her that this isn’t some love story fated in the stars. And usually, Bell has her head on straight, but she just got engaged. The sappy hormones have overtaken her brain.”

  I burst out laughing and tugged Kenna into a tight hug. “Okay, I’ll try to refrain from sticking my tongue down your throat at the bar.”

  I could feel Kenna’s grimace against my chest. “I don’t want you to stick your tongue down my throat ever. Gross.”

  “Come on…You know the idea gets you all hot and bothered.”

  “If you want to play tonsil hockey, you might wa
nt to take a time machine back to high school.”

  I released her, a grin stretching my face. “Only if you’re there. I’d love to see what high school Kenna looked like.” I bet fifteen-year-old me would’ve followed her around like a lost puppy.

  Kenna’s expression shuttered for a brief moment before smoothing. I stepped closer. “Are you okay?”

  She laughed, but it was forced. “Just thinking about you seeing me in braces and my awkward high school fashion. Come on, let’s go to The Catch.”

  I watched her head towards my truck, wondering why the thought of high school created shadows in Kenna’s eyes.

  14

  Kenna

  I stared down at the line of ten drinks on the glossy bar top, then threw an irritated glance at Crosby. I had no desire to be hugging the toilet at the end of tonight’s festivities.

  Crosby squeezed my shoulders like a coach getting ready to send his boxer into the ring. “Just take a sip of each. I’m not trying to get you drunk, I just want you to try something other than your boring-as-hell vodka soda.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a vodka soda. Just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it’s boring.” Crosby began massaging the muscles between my shoulder blades that had stiffened at his words. My drink choice was like the rest of my life, at least according to Crosby: boring and predictable.

  Bell half-heartedly muffled a laugh. “Did you lose a bet or something?”

  “Pretty much,” I grumbled. How could I explain to my best friend that I’d made a deal with the devil? Forced, new life experiences in exchange for the high of sex with Crosby. What terrified me was that it wasn’t just the sex that had helped. The numbness and dull pain had begun to slip over me as the day progressed, but when Crosby showed up in the office this evening…suddenly, everything was in technicolor again. Sure, a lot of that color was the fire of my annoyance at him, but it was so much better than the feeling of nothingness.

  Ford wrapped his arms around Bell, pressing his lips to her neck. I ignored the flare of jealousy at the tender ease they shared. He drew her closer against him. “Well, I would’ve paid good money to see this, so thanks for making it happen for free.”

  Ford held out a fist to Crosby, who bumped it. I growled at both of them. “I’ll dump the remnants of these drinks on your head if you’re not careful.”

  Ford held up both hands as he backed up. “Been there, done that, no desire to do it again.”

  Bell blushed. “Sorry about that. Again.”

  I snorted. The man had deserved it. Sure, he’d made up for the pain he’d caused in the months that followed his return to Anchor, but in my book, Ford still deserved a few more dunkings. Maybe I was just the person to do it.

  Crosby tightened his hold on me. “I see that evil glint in your eyes. Don’t even think about it.”

  I turned to face him, giving exaggerated Bambi eyes. “Who, me?”

  He shivered. “You scare me, woman.”

  “Good.”

  Bell clapped, bringing my attention back to her. “Okay, what are you going to try first?”

  I surveyed the drinks in front of me and winced. There was every size, shape, and color, and none of them looked all that appetizing. Well, maybe the fruity one looked okay. I pointed at that one.

  Bell slid it forward on the bar. “How very Sex in The City of you.”

  “Cosmo?”

  “Yup. I think you’ll like it.”

  I lifted the martini glass, examining its contents.

  Crosby let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s not going to bite you, just take a drink already.”

  “I’m looking for the poison you might’ve slipped in.”

  Bell laughed while Ford choked. “You two are my favorite sideshow.”

  I rolled my eyes and took a sip. Sweet. Crisp. I took another drink. “This is good.”

  “Told you,” Bell said.

  Crosby crowded in close. “Just pace yourself, you’ve got nine others to try.”

  I took another sip, a larger one this time. “I’m not a child, Crosby, I know what I can handle.”

  “It’s true,” Bell chimed in. “I’ve only seen her drunk once in my entire life, and it was actually more like tipsy.”

  Crosby scoffed. “Come on, you must have had at least one college bender.”

  “Not really my scene.” I’d spent most of my college years trying not to let grief swallow me whole. I’d seen what happened when you used alcohol to numb your pain—it became a crutch while it wrecked your life from the inside out. So, I’d stayed busy. Taking as many classes as I could handle, getting a part-time job. The only thing I’d drawn the line at was joining clubs. I wasn’t exactly a group activities kind of person. I’d stuck close to my comforting circle of Bell and Caelyn, and when Caelyn had to drop out at the end of our junior year to take care of her siblings, it had just been Bell and me. I’d been more than fine with that. I didn’t need a bunch of casual acquaintances. I only needed my tight-knit crew of three.

  “Kenna?”

  I started at the sound of Bell’s voice. “Sorry, what?”

  Concern flashed across her features, and I fought the urge to wince. The last thing I needed was Bell worried and hovering.

  “Which drink do you want to try next?” she asked.

  I forced a smile, only I could hear Crosby’s voice in my head talking about my real smile, the one I rarely let out. The damn man could see right through me. The knowledge had me wanting to shore up my walls. “You pick.”

  Bell looked up at Ford. “What do you think?”

  “Scotch.”

  “You’re mean,” she chided.

  “Why is that mean? Is it awful?” My gaze jumped from person to person.

  “Never had scotch?” Crosby asked. “It’s one of my favorites.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “You like that god-awful Guinness, so I’m probably going to hate this.”

  Bell pushed a glass with amber liquid forward. “You could always hold your nose while you try it.”

  “No way,” Crosby interjected. “That’s cheating. She has to taste everything.”

  I sighed and picked up the glass. I sniffed. Not appetizing. But I was no chicken. I took a sip and immediately spit it back in the glass. I whirled on Crosby. “That was disgusting! Are you trying to kill me? That tasted like rubber that had been set on fire.”

  Crosby chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.”

  I lifted the Cosmo from the bar and took a sip, trying to rid my mouth of the awful taste. “Nothing else that tastes like the fires of hell, please.”

  Ford grinned, shaking his head. “I think that was the worst.”

  My eyes narrowed on him. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you’re the one who picked that drink for me. I’d watch my back if I were you, Hardy.”

  Ford placed Bell in front of him like a shield. “Call her off, Trouble.”

  She winked at me. “Now, why would I want to do that?”

  The night wore on as I tried drink after drink, always using my Cosmo as a chaser. It wasn’t a ton of booze, but it was enough that I was looser than normal, a low heat running through my limbs. A small, amused crowd had gathered for my taste test, every time voting on whether I’d like the beverage or not. I had not been an easy grader, but I had finally reached the last few drinks. Next up was a shot with whipped cream on top. “What’s that?”

  A huge grin spread over Bell’s face. “That, my friend, is a blowjob shot.”

  The crowd around us tittered, and I took a step back. “Oh, hell no. I’m not drinking anything with that name.” The eyes on me made my skin prickle. All I could think about was what they might be whispering to each other about me.

  Bell’s hands went to her hips. “Come on, don’t be a spoilsport. I’ll do one with you.”

  Bell never drank on the job. Her offer meant there was no way I could say no. I groaned. Bell cheered in victory. “Make me one, would you, Cupcake?”

  My lips
twitched at the nickname. “Yeah, Cupcake, make her a shot.” Ford glared at me, which only made me smile wider.

  He poured the shot and added whipped cream to the top. “You know you ladies have to take this one in the standard form.”

  Bell pressed her lips together as if holding back a laugh. “Of course.”

  My gaze darted between the two of them. They were up to something, and I didn’t like it one bit. “What does that mean?”

  Crosby crowded in close, his heat warming my side. “Hands behind your back.”

  My face scrunched. “Then how am I supposed to take the shot?”

  Heat flooded his eyes. “Mouth only.”

  My gaze snapped to Bell. “No way.”

  “Come on, Kenna.” She held her hands up in an exaggerated motion, clasping them behind her back. “Don’t chicken out on me now.”

  I glared at her but did the same. I followed her lead and wrapped my lips around the shot glass, tipping it back. The small crowd cheered. And the liquid that slid down my throat was the beginning of the end.

  15

  Kenna

  I groaned as my alarm went off. The sound seemed to reverberate around the room and through my skull. I patted my nightstand, searching for the blasted devil machine so I could make it stop. After a few missteps and knocking my phone to the floor, I finally hit the off button.

  I rolled to my back, the motion making my stomach pitch and roll. I felt like death warmed over. Was I getting the flu?

  “You awake?”

  I jolted to a sitting position at the sound of that husky voice, my world going just a bit blurry. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Crosby chuckled. “You don’t remember last night?”

  I froze, searching back in my memories. The liquor taste test, the crowd, discovering my love of lemon drop shots…my gaze flew to Crosby. “Did I—?” I cleared my throat. “Did I get on stage and sing that Titanic song with Bell?”

  Crosby grinned. “You two sounded like someone was torturing a pair of cats.”