by Fallon Hart
All of that was great.
Our lives were great.
I was happy.
Of course, there was that voice at the back of my mind that kept reminding me this wasn’t built to last, and although Griff was caring and affectionate, he had shown no signs of wanting to commit to me beyond our arrangement.
And I wouldn’t push.
But it did leave me with my insecurities and, unfortunately, those insecurities were only heightened by my hormones. “The fact that you don’t want to talk about her makes me think there’s something to talk about.”
Griff threw his paper shut, pushed back his chair and stood.
“Where are you going?”
“You think I don’t know that tone?” He raised an imperious eyebrow at me as he buttoned his suit jacket. “That’s the ‘Scarlett has her period’ tone and is ‘feeling aggravated and wants to aggravate me too’. We’re not discussing my past relationships when you’re not yourself.”
Ugh, that was at once perceptive, sensible and offensively high-handed. “Don’t be condescending.”
“I’m not in the mood to fight, Scarlett.”
I practically pouted. “You usually are.”
“Yes, well, I usually can fuck the temper out of you.” He gave me a pointed look. “So if that’s off the table, I’d rather not.”
Of course. We were just about sex after all! I took that as a direct hit and felt the burn of tears in my eyes.
Stupid hormones.
I glanced away so he wouldn’t see. “Fine.”
Unfortunately, he did see. I felt him stand near me, reach for my chin and force me to turn back to him. His expression softened at the sheen in my eyes.
Angry, feeling vulnerable, I jerked my head from his touch. “My period makes me teary. It’s nothing.”
In answer Griff grasped the back of my head in hand and crushed my mouth beneath his. I tried to pull away at first but soon I was moaning into the delicious, hungry kiss. When we broke apart we were both a little breathless. He kissed my nose and straightened, looking down at me with a serious expression. “I’ll give you this and then I don’t want to discuss it ever again.”
I frowned.
“My ex’s don’t matter. Not just because I never felt anything more toward them than momentary desire and casual friendship. But because sex with you has, as you once put it, erased them. No one has ever taken what I wanted to give and given what I wanted to take the way you have, Scarlett. For now I’m happy with what we have, and I have no interest in looking at any other woman. Understood?”
I nodded, pleased and at the same melancholy.
“Now, I trust you. I expect you to trust me in return.”
“I do,” I promised. “I’m sorry… I’m just… you know these events make me a little edgy.”
“I know.” He squeezed my shoulder. “But you always do beautifully.”
I gave him a small smile. Something flickered in his gaze, something like unease, but he quickly smothered it and told me he’d see me at dinner.
***
“I think you’re being too negative about the situation,” Amelia said as we strolled out of Nordstrom on Newbury Street. It was a lovely October day. The sun was shining but it was cool, meaning I finally got to wear the Ted Baker trench coat Anna had picked out weeks ago. I absolutely adored it. It was a purple-blue with pleated skirt and the silk lining was a riot of colorful florals that made an appearance every now and then as I walked against the gentle breeze.
We’d decided to have lunch at the Four Seasons after a morning of shopping. And by shopping I meant Amelia shopping. I’d never met a woman with a bigger shoe collection.
I’d just told her about my conversation with Griff that morning. “He made it clear, twice, in his way that he still thinks we’re temporary.”
“Yes, but has he talked about slowing things down? Has he talked about the future and your divorce since you started sleeping together?”
I frowned. “I guess not.”
“Has he confided things to you that he hasn’t to other people?”
She knew he had. I hadn’t told her what those confidences were but I had told her that after sex we’d often lie in bed talking about our pasts. Memories of his mother. Memories of both my parents. Things his father had done to him. Things my sister had done to me.
I’d never shared more of myself with anyone in my life.
Once upon a time I thought I had with Eric but I realized I’d only ever given Eric all my good and innocence. I never complained about the things my sister did— I always made excuses. I never blamed my parents for making a difference between me and my sister and thus exacerbating the situation (something it had really only taken me now to admit). And I’d never asked for the things I wanted when Eric touched me. When I looked back, my sweet guy, had actually been a pretty selfish lover. It didn’t matter to me. I wanted to give him everything he needed that would make him happy, especially after his diagnosis.
But I wasn’t afraid of that part of myself when I was with Griff. I could give in to any and all my desires around Griff. I could give in to my frustrations and temper.
He had seen every side of me.
And he still wanted me.
“I should never have started this with him, Amelia,” I said, suddenly feeling cold deep in my bones.
“Why not? You two are perfect together.”
“We’re not. That’s the problem. I’ve given him every part of me…” I stopped and looked at her with bleakness in my gaze. “This is going to tear me apart.”
She blanched, understanding that I meant the inevitable end to my relationship with Griff. “It won’t. Because he won’t let you go. I know it. Even Quentin has said so. Griffin needs you, Scarlett. When the time comes to say goodbye, he won’t be able to.”
My friend took my hand and squeezed it in comfort.
God, I hoped she was right.
“Scarlett?”
I jerked around at the sound of my name, dropping Amelia’s hand, and I felt a mixture of regret and unease when I saw Bryce McKellan walking casually down Newbury toward us.
“I thought that was you.” He grinned as he came to a stop.
I’d felt bad avoiding Bryce these last few weeks but I was uncomfortable with the way he’d flirted with me the last time we’d talked. “Bryce. Hello. Amelia, this is Bryce McKellan. He’s a club member. Bryce this is my good friend Amelia Danvers.”
Bryce held out his hand to her. “Quentin Danvers’ wife?”
“Yes. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.” He released her hand and looked at me, suddenly seeming a little nervous. “Scarlett, I’ve been hoping to see you around the club. I hoped we could talk.”
Oh God. “I uh—”
“You know there is a sale on in Chanel. I’ll catch up with you at the restaurant,” Amelia said, skipping lightly across the street in her four inch heels before I could stop her.
Damn.
Bryce gave me a sheepish smile. “No need to look so worried. I actually want to apologize.”
“Oh?” I turned and began walking down Arlington in the opposite direction of Chanel toward the The Four Seasons on Boylston.
Bryce fell into step with me. “So… you know Pete Svenson?”
“Yes.” Just hearing the name made me stiffen. The man had been smart enough to avoid me at all cost these last few weeks but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of him and keeping my eyes peeled for any trouble he might cause.
“He mentioned in passing that he thought perhaps you and Griff were having problems.”
That little slug!
“I never thought anything of it, of course, until we met. Until we hung out.” He threw me a sad smirk. “I read all your signals wrong. I realize now you were just being friendly. I let my attraction for you override my good sense. And I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and for causing any problems between you and Mandeville.”
Relief su
ffused me. “I appreciate that. Griff and I are fine. Pete, you say?”
I knew he was playing games with us.
“Yeah. Guess he was wrong.” Color rose on Bryce’s cheeks. “That day in library proved that.”
“Yes, well, I don’t think it’s appropriate to discuss.”
“No, of course, not. God, no. Shit. You must think me an ass, flirting with a married woman. I would never normally do that but that place… man it took me straight back to high school. I felt like an unpopular nerd all over again and you were there being so nice and easy to talk to and beautiful and… well I’m sorry.”
Sympathy flooded me. “Don’t be. I get it. I live there.” I laughed. “I know it can be intimidating.”
“Yeah. I’m getting the hang of it now. Networking. I just… I’m just glad I got the opportunity to apologize and I hope we can be friends.”
Now that I knew he understood where we stood? Definitely. I’d liked talking books with Bryce. “We can still be friends.”
“Great.” He beamed. “Well, I’ll see you around then.”
“See you around.”
Despite the realization that Pete really was trying to be a manipulative little bastard, I actually felt better than I had ten minutes before as I walked to the restaurant to wait on Amelia. I didn’t like how I’d left things with Bryce. At least one thing had happened that day to lift my mood.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A mere four days later and it was Saturday already. I was feeling more myself again. I was, however, a little apprehensive about the luncheon with the Van De Beers, especially since Amelia and Quentin couldn’t attend. They were in Italy for five nights celebrating their third wedding anniversary. But Griff was good friends with this James Van De Beer so I was determined to pull up my big girl panties and hang out with the ‘in’ crowd, no matter how pretentious I found them.
I said as much to Griff as the town car drove us out to Wellesley.
He surprised me by nodding. “I suppose they are pretentious.”
“You agree?”
He smirked at my surprise. “You don’t think you’re the first person to tell me that the world I live in is pretentious? You’ve met Quentin, right?”
I chuckled. “That’s why I like Quentin. He understands where I’m coming from.”
“Most of the galas and events we’ve attended these last three months raise a lot of money for charity and do a lot of good. I think we can put up with a little pretentiousness for that outcome.”
I huffed, “Well make me feel bad about it, why don’t you.”
Griff snorted. “You don’t feel bad in the least. I think you like feeling above these people.”
“Me? Above them?” Color me confused.
“Yes, you above them. You think because you know what it’s like to struggle financially, that you’ve worked hard to create your own independence and set your own path, that you’re superior to them. Just like some of them think because they were born into a prestigious family with wealth and power status that they’re better than you are.”
I looked out the window, contemplating his words. And I realized that maybe he wasn’t wrong. “I suppose you might be right.” I bit my lip, not liking that in the least. “I’ve always prided myself on being someone who saw themselves as equal to others, not inferior or superior.”
Griff shrugged. “Don’t feel badly, love. The truth is depending on who you talk to you are all those things. To Kiersten Van De Beer you are inferior.”
I scowled at him.
But he continued on, “To Amelia you are equal to the society she was born to. She sees all good people as equal.” His gaze travelled down my body that was clad in a forest green lace dress by Three Floor. It was calf-length, fitted tightly to my silhouette to the knees until it flared out slightly in a softly ruffled lace hem. The panels across the arms and upper chest were sheer. Between that and the tight-fit of the dress, it perfectly straddled the line between pure class and sultry. I squirmed under Griff’s hot perusal. It felt like weeks, instead of days, since he’d been inside me. And I couldn’t wait to be with him later that night.
“But me,” his voice was guttural with need now, “I see the truth despite having been raised among them all. You are infinitely superior in every way someone can be.”
Warmth suffused me and my breath caught in my throat.
I didn’t know what to say in the face of such a declaration.
Did it mean what I thought it meant?
I saw the moment Griff regretted the words. He practically flinched and turned away from me, straightening his lapel. He did that when he was uneasy.
Trying to defuse the moment, attempting to reassure him that I wouldn’t take his words as a vow of love, I replied, “Friends should always think well of one another. I hope you know I feel the same about you.”
Griff immediately relaxed at the word ‘friends’, his whole body seeming to slump into the seat. “I’m glad.”
***
To my surprise James Van De Beer’s home in Wellesley wasn’t nearly as opulent as what I’d expected. I’d expected a home like the Wellington’s mansion in Weston. All epic and marble-floored. Instead the Van Be Beer home was an over-sized, sprawling New England house with white-painted shingles and never-ending perfect green lawns. We were shown through the house and I took in the quality, expensive but comfortable and down-to-earth furnishings. We were led into a sitting room with a wall of sliding glass doors that opened out onto their backyard where a large white tent was set up. Most people were inside the tent but others dared to mingle outside in the cool air.
“There’s a pond,” I muttered to Griff. “These people have an actual pond in their backyard. Actually does it qualify as a pond when it’s the size of a small lake?”
Griff chuckled, guiding me with his hand on my lower back. “All its missing is the swan boats.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.” And he had! “We’re spending too much time together.”
My husband seemed amused by my grumblings as I eagerly took in the beautifully-decorated tent. String music filtered up to us from what I could only guess was a string quartet playing live inside somewhere. Black-tie catering staff wandered through the throngs of guests who were all decked out in their fancy floral cocktail dresses.
“Maybe I should have worn something in a pastel.”
“You look beautiful.” Griff slid his hand down to tap the top of my ass before sliding it back up. “Always wear what you want to wear.”
I pressed into his side as we wandered through the tent that was much warmer than outside due to fancy pedestals with fire pits on top. They were placed throughout the huge tent. “People are looking at us. When will the curiosity end?”
“Perhaps when your husband stops feeling you up in public.”
I knew that voice.
I sighed as we turned to greet Michael Pennyworth and his current date. I’d met Michael at Amelia’s beach party and he’d rubbed me the wrong way. He certainly rubbed Griff the wrong way. At the party he’d been with a young woman named Sherry. His date wasn’t Sherry.
“Pennyworth.” Griff gave him a curt nod.
“Didn’t think I’d see you two here.” Michael smirked. “Word has it that Van De Beer’s daughter still has her panties in a twist about your marriage.”
And this was why he rubbed me the wrong way. He not only said inappropriate things but he was also nosy, a gossip, and a troublemaker.
“Oh, Michael, you’re so bad,” his date tittered. “You know Kiersten’s just heartbroken about it all.”
Annoyance at the glee in her voice burned in my blood. This one deserved him. “Run along, Michael. I’m sure your date is due her afternoon nap.”
Griff choked on a sip of champagne beside me as Michael narrowed his eyes and shuffled his date away as if we had the plague. On the plus side, he always knew when he wasn’t wanted.
“Well.” Griff looked down at me with laught
er dancing in his dark eyes. “It appears someone is learning to play.”
I huffed, still irritated by the encounter. “It’s just rude to talk about your hosts like that. And I may not have had the best start with Kiersten Van De Beer but women shouldn’t find glee in other women’s heartbreak. It’s against the girl code.”
Suddenly Griff’s arm wrapped around my waist and he tugged me against him. His eyes smoldered. “You’re the finest woman I know, Scarlett.”
My God he was trying to kill me with compliments today!
I flushed with delight and he grinned. “You haven’t blushed in ages. I was starting to miss it.”
I rolled my eyes at his playfulness, giving him a light smack on the chest when a throat cleared, drawing our gazes.
An older, very distinguished man with a thick head of gray hair and a still, strong physique stood before us. A lovely woman, who could have been anywhere from thirty-five to fifty-five was on his arm. She just had one of those ageless, stunning faces.
Griff let go of me to hold out a hand to the man first. “James, thank you for having us.” After shaking James Van De Beer’s hand, Griff kissed the woman’s cheek. “Grace.”
“Lovely to see you again, Griffin,” she beamed before turning to me. “And this must be your wife.”
“James, Grace, it’s my pleasure to introduce my wife, Scarlett. Scarlett, this is James and Grace Van De Beer.”
I greeted them. Their gazes were filled with warmth I hadn’t been expecting.
“Oh the rumors are true, you really are quite lovely,” Grace said.
“Oh thank you. I must say you have a beautiful home here, Mrs. Van De Beer.”
“That’s very kind of you, dear. You know.” She looked up at her husband. “I can’t remember the last time someone complimented us on our home.”
James’s eyes twinkled. “That’s because good manners have been overtaken with pretention. No one wants to admit they’re impressed by anything these days.”