by Kim Karr
He reached for me, curling a hand around the nape of my neck to draw me closer. “Hannah,” he said, his voice guttural.
Without hesitation, I reached back and peeled his fingers away. “Who are you?” I snarled.
He ran his hands through his wet hair. “Not now, okay?”
Ignoring him, I could feel the hostility rolling off me, and I supposed he could too. “How can you afford this house when you don’t have any money?”
Instead of answering me, he repeated himself. “Later, Hannah.”
I knew what he was doing. Shutting me out. But this time I just didn’t care. “Tell me!”
He paced the small space in front of the vanity before he stopped and looked at me. For a while we just stood there facing each other, and still, Jace saying nothing. Not answering a single question. Just staring at me as if shocked by my reaction.
Water dripped down my face from my wet hair. “What? Are you suddenly rich?”
Jace turned around and put his hands on the back of his neck.
“It’s not like you could have forgotten to tell me,” I bit out.
He turned back around. Again, he just stared at me as if I wasn’t the same person he’d spent almost every day with for the past three months. And in a way, I wasn’t. This hurt, hurt deeper than he could ever know. A pain so familiar I just wanted to push it away. Push him away.
When I couldn’t take the balled up outrage I was holding in anymore, I blurted out my feelings. “It’s not as if I haven’t figured out that you have been playing some kind of sick game with me since the day we met. Pretending to be poor like me. Why? Did you get off on it? Did it make you feel like a big shot?”
Flinching, he took a deep breath. “Is that really what you think?”
My pulse was roaring in my ears as I made certain to stare right into those intense, brooding gray eyes. “Tell me otherwise. Tell me you don’t own this house. That you aren’t rich. That you haven’t neglected to tell me what you should have.”
Normally, Jace was a hotheaded dick in situations where he was pushed against the wall, and I braced myself for his shitty temper. Instead, what I got was a lot of breathing, Jace lulling his back on his spine and glancing at the ceiling in an attempt to try to calm himself down as I had taught him.
“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me you haven’t been a lie.”
“Maybe sometimes the truth hurts too much,” he murmured.
The features of my face twisted into a glower. “Look at me and tell me why?” I shouted. “Tell me why,” I said again, but this time in a whisper.
Lowering his chin, there was hurt in his eyes, disappointment, and perhaps a bit of regret, but no anger. “I think it would be best if you go. I’m going to ask Ethan to drive you to the airport.”
Unable to stop myself, I poked him in the chest again. “And do what there, let you buy me a ticket because you’re such a big shot? Well, fuck you! I don’t need your money. I don’t need anything from you.”
Jace wrenched his gaze from mine and looked away. “I’m not a big shot.”
Shaking my head, I turned on my heels and walked right out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
As I grabbed my things, I thought he’d fling the door open and tell me I had it all wrong.
He didn’t.
When I went to the room Ethan was in and dressed, I thought he’d storm in and tell me I had it all wrong.
He didn’t.
Getting in the car with Ethan to drive back to Michigan because he thought it was best we both go, I thought he’d run down the snow-covered driveway and tell me I had it all wrong.
He didn’t.
Ethan was talking. Telling me not to be upset. That Jace hadn’t pretended to be anyone he wasn’t. That he wasn’t a big shot. That his grandmother had cut him off, and he really was just like us.
Just like us?
That was far from the truth.
He was just like them—the people I grew up with who always treated me like the hired help and claimed I was family at the same time.
Unable to listen any longer, I tuned Ethan out.
The blinker was signaling left by the time I forced myself to turn around. Snow flurries caused the house to fade from my sight before the distance did.
And I vowed right then the big shot would do the very same thing…
Vanish from my life.
Forever.
And I would make sure of it.
25
Present Day
Jace Bennett
Calling Amanda to talk some more wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done.
It was just that diving headfirst in the opposite direction seemed like the best way to handle the situation I was in.
Normally, I didn’t go out on Sunday nights, but I needed to take the edge off before work on Monday, so I asked Mrs. Sherman to watch Scarlett.
With my keys in my hand, I was just about ready to go. “Scarlett,” I called.
She came running into the family room wearing her ballet clothes with the new football shirt we’d bought her when we took Jonah back to the sporting goods store for a helmet on Friday night.
“Here I am!” Scarlett circled the coffee table with the pink glittery ball tucked under her arm. I had to admit, it defied the ruggedness of the sport. “Look, Daddy!”
“Watch where you’re going, princess,” I called, and Mrs. Sherman jumped out of the way as Scarlett hurtled past her, turned left into the dining room, and ran into the kitchen.
“Touchdown,” I heard her call at the same time there was a crash.
“Why can’t she play with dolls like most girls her age,” I muttered.
Striding that way, Mrs. Sherman replied, “Then she wouldn’t be our Scarlett.”
“You have a point.”
Mrs. Sherman grinned. “Besides, she’s a natural athlete.”
“She’s a natural something, that’s for sure,” I smirked. Her responding laughter told me she agreed.
Scarlett came running back into the family room and looked up at me with flushed cheeks. She no longer had the ball and I wondered what she used as the goal line and where it had ended up. “I did it! I won the game.”
“That’s great,” Mrs. Sherman told her, as she disappeared into the kitchen.
I eyed her, waiting.
“It was only a can of peaches I’d left out for cobbler,” she called, giving the all clear.
I shook my head at my daughter. “You have to be more careful.”
She pursed her lips. “I was careful, Daddy, I promise. I didn’t break anything.”
“Good point,” I grinned. “Tomorrow night I’m going to give you a run for your money.”
Her hair was in her eyes and she pushed it away. “Why can’t you do it now?”
I held out my arms. “Because I told you, I’m going out to dinner, but I’ll be back early.”
Scarlett ran to me, and after she hugged and kissed me, she whispered in my ear, “Are you taking Hannah out for tacos?”
Furrowing my brows, I pulled back. “Why would you think that?”
Again, she pushed her hair from her eyes. “Jonah says his mommy loves tacos, and Max told me if you want to express a woman, you do what they like.”
Ethan.
That had Ethan written all over it.
I gave her a smile. “It’s impress, not express.”
“Impress. That’s what I said, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“Scarlett, I’m not taking Hannah out. I’m going over to a business colleague’s to talk about work.”
It wasn’t a lie.
She frowned at me. “Then when are you going to take Hannah out for tacos?”
I scratched my head. Looked at her. Tried to figure out how to tell her I wouldn’t be. But those green eyes got me, so I picked her up and set her on the back of the couch. “How about we see if Hannah and Jonah want to go with the two of us next Saturday?”
Friends.
That was a good way to head down that path.
Scarlett’s little feet banged against the back of the sofa as she clapped her hands together. “All of us are going on a date! It’s going to be so fun. I can’t wait to tell Jonah in the morning!”
It was my turn to frown. “Date? It won’t be a date, princess.”
“Sure, it will. You and me will pick them up. And we’re all going to go out to eat together. Oh, and you have to pay. Then when we’re done we’ll kiss each other goodnight. That’s a date.”
I shook my head at her. “Where do you get this stuff?”
“TV,” Scarlett said blithely.
“You should read more,” I muttered, and swung her off the couch. “How about you let me tell Hannah before you say anything to Jonah, you know in case they are busy.”
She twisted her lips. “I guess I can do that.”
“Good. Now I have to go.”
“Don’t work too hard, Daddy!” she yelled as she ran into the kitchen to where Mrs. Sherman was making them both dinner.
Always going a hundred miles an hour. “Later, gator,” I yelled, and strode out the door trying to figure out how the hell I was going to tell Hannah about our date that wasn’t really a date.
The entire time I drove to Amanda’s, Hannah was all I could think about.
As I took the elevator up to Amanda’s penthouse apartment, Hannah was all I could think about.
And when Amanda opened the door, I knew it wasn’t her face I wanted to be looking at.
I was so screwed.
“Hi,” I said, handing her the bottle of wine I’d purchased on the way, and then shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Come in,” Amanda smiled, taking the bottle. “I have to say, I was surprised when you called.”
This wasn’t a date, and I hoped Amanda didn’t look at it that way. Then again, with what she was wearing, it was clear what was on her mind.
Dressed in a white slinky silk top and matching bottoms with some kind of robe or maybe it was a kimono over it, and I got the distinct impression she wanted me to peel the items off her layer by layer.
“Can I get you a drink?” she offered, leading the way to the sunken living room with a view of the river.
“Yeah, sure” I said, “Scotch, if you have it.”
Her clothing matched the apartment. Everything was white from the furniture to the walls to the carpet. “On the rocks?” she asked from the bar, which was all white leather.
“Please.” I swung my head in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling windows and strode toward them. “Great view.”
Ice clinked into glasses. “For what this place cost me, I should have a view of the Eiffel Tower.”
My palms felt sweaty as I stared out into the dark. Summer was fading quickly and it was getting darker earlier and earlier. I hated this time of year for many reasons, but one was the longer nights.
“You look scrumptious,” she purred, handing me a glass.
If my black slacks and white button down were scrumptious, what the hell were my bright blue Calvins going to be? Edible? “I’m not sure what to say to that,” I grinned, keeping it sly.
I had this.
She took a sip of her drink, a scotch as well. “Well, you could give me a compliment, or we could skip all the small talk and get right to what you came here for.”
The amber liquid went down smooth, and once I swallowed, I cocked a brow in her direction. “You don’t pussyfoot around, do you?”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Why don’t we sit down and start that small talk. I ordered sushi. I hope you don’t mind. I know I said I’d make dinner, but I really don’t cook.”
I threw my head back in laughter. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She stared at me.
“What?” I asked.
Rising up on her toes, she got really close to my mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh. I like this side of you.”
It was my opportunity, and I could have kissed her, yet something inside me begged off, knowing coming here to fuck her was all kinds of wrong. It wasn’t who I was anymore. I didn’t have to get lost in women to forget my shitty life, because my life was anything but shitty.
There was, however, something missing, I just refused to see it that way. Then again I always was a stubborn prick.
“Come on,” she laughed, taking me by the arm. “Let’s get to know each other.”
That I could do.
And who knew…maybe I might actually like her.
We spent the following hour doing just what she had suggested… making small talk. It was obvious after those sixty minutes that there was zero chemistry between us. Those few sparks that had presented themselves at that lunch we shared had long ago fizzled. And I think it was on both our parts.
It didn’t help that the only thing I talked about was my daughter. I even went as far as to show Amanda pictures of Scarlett on my phone. Seriously, even I started to wonder just how lame I really was.
The stud magnet that I once had been turned into Mr. Mom, and Amanda was not turned on by that side of me. Then again, aside from agreeing to go to the Outreach Fundraiser, I didn’t see children being a part of her life, at all.
Hell, instead of making my way into Amanda’s pants, it was clear with every second that passed I was pushing her away, and yet I couldn’t stop. I went on and on. And it became painfully obvious stepmom wasn’t a title she was looking to capture. Not that I was looking either. I wasn’t. Dominatrix, now that seemed to suit her much better.
After telling her all about Scarlett’s love of the White Sox, the Bulls, and the Bears, I stopped all the talking. Even I was getting tired of hearing my own voice.
Amanda was lounging with her head resting on the back of the sofa and her feet propped up on the coffee table. She rolled to her side and batted her eyelashes in my direction. “Can I ask you something?”
I slid down on the couch and turned my head in her direction. It was a flirty move, and my last attempt at trying to figure out if Amanda was what I needed to help get Hannah out of my head. “Yeah, sure. After listening to me, I think you earned it.”
Reaching over, she gave my hair a slight tug. “You’re really something. So good looking, and I know you already know that. I also know you’re the kind of man who takes what he wants. So why is it when pussy keeps being handed to you on a silver platter, do you keep turning it down?”
We were at eye level, and our mouths were just a few breaths apart. I could prove to her right now that I had no intention of turning her pussy down, except I did have every intention of doing just that. To ease the burn of my rejection, I brushed my fingers down her chiseled cheekbone. “It’s not you, it’s me.”
She flipped onto her back and threw an arm over her eyes. “You don’t seriously think that line is going to work on me, do you?’
I sat up straight, keeping my eyes on her. “It’s the truth.”
Catching my gaze, she sobered. “Whoever has your attention is one lucky girl. Tell her I said so, will you?”
“There’s no one,” I said in a terse voice.
Amanda got to her feet and covered her mouth as she yawned. “Now that is a line I’m going to have to refuse to believe because if it were true, it would be a damn shame. A man as spectacular as you shouldn’t be alone.”
A statement like that could either be a compliment or an insult. I chose to take it as the former, but perhaps she meant it as the latter. It didn’t matter. I stood as I shook my head at her. “Amanda, you certainly have a way with words.”
There were a dozen things she could have said, and I swore fuck-off was going to be one of them, but she surprised me when she stepped close and looked up at me. “I’ve decided that I’m going to sell you the app you’ve been begging me for after all.”
I wasn’t exactly begging, but I wasn’t about to argue that point.
Instead, I let my fingers sl
ide up her shoulders and she shivered under my touch. “Why the change of heart?”
She covered my hands with her own. “Because, Jace, you’re one of the good ones, and those are hard to find.”
“That’s far from the truth.”
She raised her brow as if doubting my words. “Just promise me,” she got on her toes, “that you’ll introduce me to the girl you end up with, whoever she might be.”
All I could do was stare at her. She knew my wife died. Why would she think there might be someone else?
Kissing me on the corner of my mouth, she pulled back and started toward the foyer. “It might be hard to believe this, Jace,” she tossed over her shoulder, “but I’m a romantic at heart.”
Christ, this night was turning out to be a cluster-fuck.
Amanda opened the door. “Send me that contract in the morning you already had drawn up, and I’ll sign it.”
I stepped in the hallway. “Thanks, Amanda. Tonight has been …interesting.”
She leaned her head against the side of the door. “Have a great night, and try not to spend it kicking yourself too much as you think about what you passed on tonight.”
Amanda might have been off her rocker about a lot of things, but she had one thing right…I really did want to kick my own ass.
Just not over her.
26
Present Day
Hannah Michaels Crestfall
Jace was larger-than-life.
He was the same and yet completely different at the same time. Grown up, responsible, and still brooding, his presence was indomitable.
The banter we shared had come back in a heartbeat. The strategies we used to brainstorm were almost as formable as they once had been. Everything between us was pretty much unchanged except for one big difference…there wasn’t going to be any romantic involvement.
It was strange to think I could spend years in his proximity and he might never let me in. Strange because the man had been inside my head for ten years. Always a whisper, a memory, a regret I couldn’t shake.