Mine: A Romantic Suspense Thriller (A Back to Me Series Book 2)

by Brittany Taylor

  Without further warning, she reaches down, hooking two fingers on to her panties, sliding them to the side. “This time I thought we could spare the ripping of my underwear.” The corner of her mouth curls in a devilish grin. She sits up, lowering herself down on me, taking me all in.

  I lean my head back, closing my eyes and biting my bottom lip. “Fine by me.” I draw out.

  I grasp her hips, digging my fingers into her supple flesh. Lifting her up, I bring her back down, slamming her onto me harder. She moves faster, lifting herself up and lowering herself in a quick rhythmic pace.

  If I was being selfish earlier by keeping my secrets from Lena, I was being selfish again. I wanted this night to only be about her, but the closer I get to my release the more I don’t want her to stop. I was hungry and greedy, feasting on the pleasure she was giving me. Explosions break out across my body as Lena pushes down one last time.

  Afterward, Lena pulls herself up, moving to lay beside me once again. She lays in the same position as she was earlier, pressing her back against my chest. I wrap my arm around her, my eyes growing heavy. Our room is dark, covered in various shadows from the trees outside our window. I watch as they dance across the wall Lena and I are facing.

  Lena places her arm over mine, pressing our joined hands against her chest. Her heart is still racing, pulsating beneath my palm.

  “Logan?” she whispers, breaking our silence.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you ever regret leaving Providence the way we did?”

  I swallow, caught off guard by her question. It never occurred to me that I didn’t do the right thing by insisting that we leave Providence.

  “I haven’t ever really thought about it,” I tell her. “I knew I needed to protect you and that was the only way I could. So, if you’re asking if I regret the decision to leave, I will have to say no.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Why?” I lift my head, getting a better view of Lena’s face. She doesn’t move, instead shifting her head against her pillow to get more comfortable.

  “No reason.”

  “Do you regret leaving?” I swallow once again, nervous to hear the truth. Was Lena still happy? Did she think our lives would have turned out better if we stayed?

  She hesitates, her hushed breaths blowing against the cotton fabric of her pillowcase. “No.”

  “Good.” I kiss the top of her head, her mint scented hair surrounding me. “I would do anything to protect you.”

  “I know.”

  I lay with Lena until I know she’s fallen asleep. Once her arm has slipped away from mine and I know she’s in a deep slumber, I slide out from the sheets and grab my phone.

  I tiptoe to the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Opening my conversation with Max, I type out a text telling him I needed to talk with him, preferably away from the restaurant.

  I wait a few minutes for his reply, hoping I’d get one sooner rather than later. Only a few seconds pass before he responds, telling me to meet him in the morning at the coffee shop around the corner.

  I inhale a sharp breath and walk back out to the bedroom. Lena’s body is now sprawled out, her limbs tangled in the sheets of our shared bed.

  I knew I needed to talk to Max to get perspective. He was the only true friend I’d made since moving to Seattle and the only person I could trust other than Lena.

  I just hoped it was the right decision.

  It was my day off. Max was set to work the lunch shift and then Natalie was set to close. I’d dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans; a casual lookMax had rarely ever seen on me.

  He on the other hand, tended to wear shiny watches and expensive designer clothes when outside of the restaurant. I meet Max inside the coffee shop, standing off to the side, waiting for his order. He’s wearing a simple button-down shirt, the front tucked into his dark slim jeans. After I pick up my coffee, we both take them outside, deciding to talk a walk around the park down the street.

  A rare occasion, the sun was on full blast today. Wincing, Max opens his sunglasses, perching them on the bridge of his nose. He takes a sip of coffee, then slides his phone in his back pocket. Good, that meant I had his full attention.

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” he asks.

  We continue on the path, on the water’s edge. We’re walking along the sidewalk, a metal barrier separating us from the rocks scattered along the shore below. People wander throughout the park on my left, most on their morning jogs, enjoying the last bit of summer that remained.

  “Right,” I take a deep breath, a knot forming in my chest. “I wanted to talk to you about Natalie.”

  Max stops and tilts his head toward me. His abrupt stop catches me off guard, finding myself a few steps ahead of him before I stop. I turn around.

  I’m unable to sense his reaction, his sunglasses successfully blocking his eyes. But I can tell by the way he’s completely stopped walking that he’s frustrated. “What happened with her this time? I thought you said she did great this past week.”

  “She did.” I nod. “I just...” I pause, wondering if now would be the best time to bring up her kissing me. I decide against it, wanting to know more about her past before spilling that piece of information to Max.

  I pick at the lid of my coffee, tracing my finger across the sharp edge. “I was just wondering if you knew more about Natalie’s background.”

  “She didn’t tell you?” He sighs. “I spoke with the dean at the culinary institute and they said she was one of the top chefs in her class.”

  “Yeah, she told me about that. I’m talking about her, in general. Has she ever mentioned anything to you about where she’s from or how she came to be up here?” I think back to when Natalie and I were at the market, waiting in line to order our smoothies. She had told me about the times her dad would take her to the Santa Monica Pier. I assumed she was from there but wanted to know more. I’m not sure why but there was more to Natalie than what she was saying. I hoped Max knew more than I did.

  He shrugs, sipping his coffee. We’ve resumed our walk, Max slowing down enough to stay in line with me. “She did mention something about living in Los Angeles before moving to San Diego for school. Other than that, I don’t know too much. Technically, it isn’t any of my business since I’m her employer.”

  “I know.” I take a sip of coffee. The heat has worn off, the lukewarm liquid making its way down my throat.

  “Why are you asking about her?”

  I frown, shaking my head as I look out at the water. “I don’t know, Max. Something seems off with her and I was just hoping maybe you could tell me something that might help me figure out what it is.”

  “How’s her work? Is she proving that she can handle working at Bistro?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, knowing I’m not telling Max the whole truth. For reasons unknown, I can’t bring myself to tell Max about the kiss. Maybe it was because a small part of me felt bad for Natalie, remembering how she begged me not to fire her. Max would fire her without a second thought. That I knew for certain.

  Despite learning hardly anything new about Natalie, a gnawing sensation picks at my brain. I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to her story. Aside from what she’s told Max.

  I decide to drop the questioning, believing him when he says that’s all he knows. Max may be somewhat of a player and popular with women, but he’s always taken his business seriously. No matter who it involved.

  “How’s Lena?” Max tosses his coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk, pushing his sunglasses farther up the bridge of his nose before sliding his hands into his pockets.

  “She’s doing great. Actually, she just got hired on to work for a law firm out in Tacoma.” I grin, thinking back to the day Lena told me she was hired. It was as if she was waiting for this opportunity to come her way.

  “What law firm? I know a few lawyers whose offices are in Tacoma.”

  “Sawyer and Sawyer.”

  Max abruptly stops walking ag
ain. “Lena’s working for Candace Sawyer?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, remembering that was the woman’s name Lena had mentioned. “Why?” I chuckle as Max rolls his head to the side, groaning.

  “Shit, man. I can’t believe Lena is going to be working for Candace fucking Sawyer.”

  “Is there something wrong with her?” I tip my head back, confused.

  “Not exactly. We dated a few years back.”

  “Of course you did.” I nod, tossing my unfinished coffee into the same trash can Max had.

  “Whatever, man.” Max holds his hands up. “Anyway, she’s a spitfire. Intelligent woman, gorgeous, not to mention great in bed.”

  “What happened with you two?”

  “We were two sides of the same coin. Candace took her career as seriously as I did. She lived and breathed for her work. Eventually, our relationship exploded and then dissolved. I hope Lena can handle her.”

  “I’ve been working for you for a year and I’ve survived. I’m sure Lena can do the same.” I laugh, continuing our walk.

  We’re already back on the other side of the park, completing our circle. We’ve almost made our way back, heading in the direction of the restaurant just in time to open for lunch.

  “Speaking of which, are you all set for our meeting with Gavin tomorrow.”

  “I am.” I nod. “I have all the menu options typed up and the drink menu as well. I prepared a separate list to account for how many bottles of liquor and beer we’ll need as well.”

  “Great.” Max smiles, clearly excited for this opportunity to work with Gavin again. Gavin had said there were at least five hundred people on the guest list and RSVP’s were due by the end of the week. Max suggested it could be potentially more than the five hundred Gavin stated. We were set to finalize the official count by the end of the week.

  Once we make it to the front door of the restaurant, Max slides his key in the handle, then turns to me. “Tell Lena I said congratulations on the new job... and good luck.” He smirks.

  I roll my eyes and leave Max at the door, ready to get back to Lena. It felt good to talk to Max even if I didn’t fill him in on what happened with Natalie. My focus was on my wife, savoring the new turn our life was taking.

  We were on the edge of happiness and I was ready to dive in.

  Seventeen

  Lena

  For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m truly happy.

  Working for Candace is a dream, one I never thought I’d have in a million years.

  The first two days, I spent in my office in Tacoma. Candace’s secretary, Joan, had set up my desk with all the supplies I would need then walked me through the entire floor, introducing me to each department.

  Joan was bubbly and bright, a breath of fresh air. Her bright red hair was tied high into a bun and the color of her outfits were loud, the opposite of what you’d typically see in a corporate law firm. In a way, Joan reminded me of what Abby would look like in twenty years.

  The other three days of the week, I spent at home. Logan had finished my shed, turning it into a small office, one where I could work for the law firm on the days I wasn’t in Tacoma.

  It’s been one whole month since he’s finished the shed and I’d only finally brought myself to use it this past week. The solitude of the small one hundred square foot office was too much in the beginning. I was afraid of being alone and too far from the safety of the house. The house had become a security blanket to me after changing the security code on our system.

  It’s been five weeks since my last email from Julian and the day he broke into our house. I still didn’t understand why or the reason behind it, but as the days have passed with no contact, it’s faded from my mind. I was starting a new chapter in my life and in my marriage.

  “Have a good weekend, Lena.” Candace stands in the doorway to my office, just as I’m finishing organizing a stack of files on my desk. Her large black leather bag is hanging off her shoulder, her hand wrapped around the strap. She points to me. “Don’t forget, I’m going to need those mock-ups on Monday.”

  “Of course.” I smile, stuffing the files into the drawer on the side of my desk. I usually didn’t work Fridays, but Candace asked if I could come in to prepare for the next week of meetings. I didn’t mind. We were finally able to set up our marketing team and I needed to prepare to deliver my new plan.

  “Great,” Candace says, flicking her wrist to read the time on her watch. “I have to go now if I’m wanting to make it to my stylist on time to get ready for tonight.”

  “What’s going on tonight?” Candace was a fierce lawyer. Her angled eyebrows and firm voice could inject fear into any prosecutor she stood up against. But there was a kindness under her tough exterior. One I was learning she only shared with a select few. Me and Joan being the select few.

  “I have a fundraiser gala for one of the architects out in Seattle.”

  “You mean, Gavin James, the architect?” My eyebrows shoot up across my forehead.

  “Yeah,” Candace says, grinning. “He’s a friend of mine. You know him?”

  I blink several times, shaking my head, surprised. “Personally, no. My husband is catering the event.”

  “Oh.” She perks up. “Your husband works at Bistro 59?”

  “He’s the executive chef there.” My cheeks grow sore from smiling, pride filling in my chest.

  “I was surprised to hear they were catering the event. It’s an excellent restaurant.” She tilts her head to the side, her grin fading. “The owner not so much.”

  I laugh. “Are you talking about Max?”

  Candace waves me off. “Yeah, we dated a few years back. Man is full of himself.”

  “I’ve heard that before.”

  “Anyway,” Candace taps her watch. “I need to get going if I’m going to be ready in time. Will I see you there tonight?”

  “I don’t think so. Logan will be working all night and I already made plans to see my friend, Abby. Have a great time, though.”

  Candace sighs and taps her fingers on the doorframe. “Okay, I’ll see you on Monday then.” She gives me a quick smile before spinning on her heel and walking toward the elevator.

  I send a text to Logan, letting him know I’m leaving work. By the time I get home, there will only be about an hour window of time I can see him before he leaves to head to the hotel where the fundraiser is being held.

  On the drive home, my anxiety ramps up in the best way possible. Our marriage has finally turned a corner. It feels like it did in the beginning of our relationship. Every touch and every word felt new and exciting. His touch is fire but his kisses are permanent tattoos. He’s been focused on me and building the new life we set out to build since moving to Seattle.

  When I get home, I find a vase of white lilies sitting in the middle of the dining room table. My favorite flower. In front of it is a small envelope, my name printed on the front in Logan’s handwriting. I open it, sliding my finger under the sealed edge.

  Lena,

  Follow the arrows for a surprise.

  Love, Logan

  I look down at the floor. White paper arrows line the floor leading to the stairway, a path I hadn’t even noticed when I walked in the door.

  I leave the note on the table, sliding off my heels, feeling the cool hardwood floor underneath my bare feet.

  “Logan?” I call out. I slide my hand along the railing, already grinning in anticipation of what Logan’s surprise is. The path leads me to the bedroom, the last arrow resting in the threshold.

  “Where are you?” I nervously laugh. The house is silent, aside from my steady breaths. I close my eyes briefly, remembering the day our house was broken into. I stood here, in the same position, hoping I wouldn’t find the intruder.

  Panic slowly rises in me, beginning to question whether the note was truly written by Logan or not. Maybe I was quick to assume it was his handwriting.

  I tentatively step into the bedroom where the hardwood meets c
arpet. The fabric is soft and quiet.

  At the foot of the bed is a plain wrapped box. I look around, hoping Logan will pop up at any moment. I’m standing in front of it, reaching down to lift the lid when two hands slide around my waist. They pull me in, resting me against a large chest. My breath hitches, both startled from the sudden touch and the possibility of it not being Logan.

  My fears are extinguished the instant I hear his voice in my ear. “Happy Anniversary,” he says.

  I let go of the lid on the box and turn around to find Logan. His jaw is freshly shaved, his hair pulled back into a bun. He hasn’t put on his chef jacket yet, but he’s wearing a perfectly fitted white T-shirt tucked into black slacks.

  I examine his face, pulling my eyebrows together. “It’s not our anniversary, Logan.”

  “No, not our wedding anniversary,” he says. “It’s the anniversary of the day we met.”

  I lift my chin, draping my arms around his shoulders. “You remember things like that?” I laugh. “Does that make me a bad wife for not remembering it?”

  He lifts his hand, tucking my hair behind my ear. I’d worn it long and wavy today, relishing in the growing length. I decided to finally let it grow out, giving up on trying to be someone I wasn’t. He shakes his head, pouting his full, smooth lips. “No, Lena. That doesn’t make you a bad wife.”

  “Well, thank you.” I stand on my toes, pressing my lips to his. He towers over me, his presence surrounding me. Our kiss is slow, different than the ones I’m used to. Usually Logan’s kisses are fierce and passionate. This one is a silent reminder of the love he has for me. His kiss shoots straight to my toes, my heart racing against his.

  He pulls back gently, breaking our joined mouths. “Open your present.” He nods to the box still sitting unopened on the edge of our bed.