by H. M. Ward
She taps a cherry red nail on the counter in front of me. “Reiterating. He wants you.” A crease forms in between her eyebrows. “Who else is he asking? Besides the hated BFF?”
“He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t like you. And I don’t know. He said he’d ask a few people and that I should too—the group of us should go.”
Vi shakes her head. “Nah, that sounds off. He’s taking you to a grave first. No way he’s going to bring a bunch of trashed guys island hopping, even if he’s an ass. If he’s legit, he won’t do that either. I think you should go with him by yourself.”
“What? You just said you think he’s the asshole breaking into my house.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. What’s he do again?”
“He’s the soccer coach at St. Bart’s. Teaches history. He’s not a techie nerd. He doesn’t dive. He wouldn’t have dive gear to throw through my windows.”
Frowning, Vi taps her nail on the counter, thinking. “Maybe it’s not him. Either way, you’ll find out, right? I mean, if he’s with you, you’ll be able to tell if it’s him. Grab his laptop and see if he bought some Facebook ads. That’s easy enough.”
I frown. I don’t like this plan, but I find myself nodding, saying, “I guess so.”
“You can do that before you go. If it’s him, if he’s the creep, then me and you go. Girl trip. If it’s not, consider going, just the two of you—at least to the first island for the grave shit. I can meet up with you at the next.”
“You don’t want to be there for that. It’s a downer. I get it.” I’m about to get up and open the door. The bell is going to ring. She grabs my wrist, stopping me.
“It’s not that. If you really want me there, I’m there. It’s that you need to figure out where you stand with Tim. You can’t do that if I’m there.”
“And if he’s the one screwing with me?”
A smile snakes across her face. “Then he’ll be sorry he ever met us. We’ll nail his ass to the wall before we jet off to paradise. No one messes with my friends. Got it?” There’s a ferocity in her expression, something in her eyes that says she’ll rip apart anyone who fucks with me.
The hollow place in the center of my chest warms a bit. It doesn’t feel so cold and empty. I’ve not had anyone offer to stand up for me like this since Zara.
“Thanks Vi.”
Chapter 10
Tim is over later that night, dinner in hand. This time, take out from a steak place. He came over right after school and dumped his stuff by the door, laptop, phone, wallet, keys. I know I’m going to get busted, but I need to know.
As Tim is grabbing paper plates, I stop him. “It’s steak. Let’s use real plates and silverware. Would you mind setting it up? I need to run upstairs for a second.”
“Sure,” he nods, placing the paper plates back into the cabinet and going about things.
I shuffle up the steps, snagging his bag on the way and clutching it to my chest. He might notice a missing phone. At least, that’s what I rationalize. I run into my bathroom and shut the door. The computer is out and on, screen glowing faster than I thought possible. I’ve been up here for two minutes so far. I pull up his Facebook page and click around, looking for credit card info—things that he may have directly charged using Facebook. But I don’t find anything. Then I see a spot that says something about ads. I click there and I’m taken to a screen that shows no history and asks me to set up an account.
A gush of air rushes out of my lungs and my spine curves in relief. It’s not him. He’s not the guy running the ads. It dawns on me that he could have a fake account, but I think I’ve taken this far enough. I know the guy. It’s not him.
I pad silently down the steps again, swing the computer bag softly to the spot on the floor, and round the corner into the kitchen. “Sorry. I needed to find some aspirin.” The lie slides off my tongue.
“Headache?”
“Sore foot. It gets fussy at the end of the day.” Which is true. I smile at him. The table is set with white linens, plates, silverware, and he’s just putting the food out. He reaches for a bottle of wine and pulls the cork before pouring me a glass.
“So.” I sit down across from him and clutch the wine like a lifeline. I’m not supposed to have it, but I hardly ever drink. So I make an exception. My life is turning a corner.
I’m treated to a grin. “So.” He looks at me from beneath dark lashes. The white t-shirt is plastered to his body. It’s so balmy tonight. His dark hair curls slightly at the ends from the humidity. He looks beautiful.
“I talked to Vi.”
“Yeah?” He cuts into his steak, not watching me.
My stomach flips as I tell him. “She said we should go together.” He stops cutting. Looks up. “Without her.”
An awkward smile that’s too toothy, almost bashful, is on his face. “What? Why would she say that?”
“Same reason you did, I guess.”
His gaze is locked on mine. “What reason is that?”
Silence. Something inside me twists gleefully. And a little frightened. Play your hand, slowly. Don’t freak him out. My eyes bore into his. I refuse to look away. Does he feel that way about me? I really thought that one encounter was heartbreak. Nothing more. Nothing to do with me. With us.
Throat tight, I manage to reply softly, “To say good-bye…to Zach.” I duck my head and break the intense gaze. Strangling my wine glass, I take a sip to steady my nerves.
“Right. But Vi could come for that. Was there something else?” He’s waiting, fork hanging in one hand, lips parted. Waiting.
I can’t tell what he thinks of me. There’s always been this kinship between us. I haven’t felt sexual for a long time. I’ve felt nothing. Dead inside. But him? Do I like him or is it that he reminds me of Zach? Well, the good things about the man.
Pressing my finger to the top of my wine glass, I trace the circle with the pad of my finger. Glancing up at him, heart pounding, I manage, “I don’t know. Do you know?”
It’s the best I can do to throw it back on him. Make him say it. Force his hand to make the first move. The room is so quiet that I can hear him breathe. A long exhale as if he’s been holding his breath. He sets down his silverware. “Abby,” he says my name and then stops. Like he wants to say more, but can’t. Won’t.
The silence is too much. I break it. Severing the chance at confessing the attraction that shouldn’t be there. The guilt I feel about it. How I savor his touch. When did this happen? Vi was right. And it’s not just that Tim likes me.
All this time, I thought anything affectionate I felt for Tim was transference. Old feelings for Zach, from way back in the beginning, before things got dark. Before I would wish I didn’t have to see him for days on end. Tim reminds me of Zach so much. And he makes me laugh like Zara.
Tim ignores my outburst, his eyes are searching for mine, waiting for me to lift my gaze so they can pin me in place and steal my breath. “Abby, are you suggesting that we—”
“No,” I laugh as if he were crazy. I swat a hand at him, and let my eyebrows creep up my face. “Oh, you thought I meant that. No, no. I just—”
His hand is on mine. His beautiful face searching mine for a truth that I’m trying to hide. I don’t know how I feel. I don’t want him seeing something that’s not there. I pull my hand away. “Abby.”
“Tim.”
He blurts out, “You’re not over him. When you are, yeah, I’m here. Is that it? Is that what you want to know?”
Nodding slowly, I press, “Here? How do you mean?”
“What do you think? I can barely sit here across from you without drinking you in from head to toe. I want to throw my head back and laugh when you make a joke. I want to allow myself to fall into you, completely, totally. But you’re not there yet. Are you?”
“I don’t know.” My lower lip quivers. Tim reaches across the table, rising from his chair, and presses his finger to my soft skin. His touch sends a jolt through me. Things that were go
ne, feelings that spark and surge with heat and intensity, flare to life. Emotions that were buried by anger and hurt, then grief—emerge. “But I want to.”
I can’t believe I said that. The words tumbled out, over my lips, past his finger. His features shift, from a smoldering intensity to something softer—patient. Vi’s right. He’s been playing the long game. Or did the game start after Zach died? I suddenly want to know, but can’t ask. Not now. Not yet.
Tim lowers himself back into his seat, his gaze locked on mine. “You’ll come island hopping with me this summer? We’ll start in the Caymans and see what happens. There’s zero pressure to be more than this, Abby. I mean it. You’re too important to me. Okay?”
I nod, slowly. Shocked that this conversation occurred. We eat dinner in the aftermath of the bomb—the confession. There’s a surreal feeling to it. After we’re done, I grab the dishes and he walks over and picks up his computer out of his satchel.
Before I realize it, he’s putting the laptop on the table and confesses, “I didn’t know if you’d agree to go with—” he stops talking and the tone of his voice shifts, “That’s weird. The battery is dead. Can we look at tickets and hotels on your computer? I thought we should do it together. I don’t want to surprise you and accidentally take you somewhere that will make you sad.” Somewhere I’ve gone with his brother.
I nod, wondering why his battery drained like that. I thought I put the computer back to sleep when I shut the lid. I wonder if he checks his browsing history. I should have cleared it. I don’t want to lie to him, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to say, ‘yeah, that asshole that’s harassing me—I thought it might be you. Funny, right?’ That would hurt him, especially after everything else he said tonight.
So I take his hand and we walk over to the couch with my laptop. When I open the lid, the picture of Zach is still on the screen from earlier. Sheepishly, I jerk my hand towards the X to close out the image, but Tim places his palm over mine.
“You’re allowed to miss him. Even if things were bad at the end.” Tim’s voice is matter of fact, but there’s an edge to it.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. “I need to know when.”
“When what?”
“When did you start liking me? Was it when we were married? Was it after he died? I feel like I’m betraying him somehow.” I hesitate before saying more.
Tim is pressed against me. We sit hip to hip. I feel the warmth of his body. “Do you need to know right now? I’d like to talk about these kind of things with you while we add in some activities that aren’t so heavy.”
I pause, thinking. Do I need to know this? Does it matter? I didn’t cheat on Zach. I never looked at Tim like that until now. Even during that fling, it wasn’t like this—like we could have a relationship if we wanted things to go that way.
“I don’t need to know.”
Tim smiles and nods his head. After a moment passes, he takes my hand, and confesses, “I met you before you fell for Zach. He asked you out first. The rest of the story will be told in a glass bottom kayak in the Caribbean.
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
READY FOR MORE? This is a FAN DRIVEN SERIES!
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Text HMWARD (one word) to 24587 for a text reminder on release day.
SUGGESTED FERRO READING ORDER
Each series can be read individually or you can follow the publication order below.
THE ARRANGEMENT 1
THE ARRANGEMENT 2
THE ARRANGEMENT 3
THE ARRANGEMENT 4
THE ARRANGEMENT 5
THE ARRANGEMENT 6
DAMAGED 1
DAMAGED 2
SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT 1
SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT 2
SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT 3
SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT 4
SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT 5
THE ARRANGEMENT 7
THE ARRANGEMENT 8
THE ARRANGEMENT 9
THE ARRANGEMENT 10
THE ARRANGEMENT 11
SCANDALOUS 1
SCANDALOUS 2
STRIPPED 1
THE PROPOSITION 1
THE PROPOSITION 2
THE PROPOSITION 3
THE PROPOSITION 4
THE ARRANGEMENT 12
THE ARRANGEMENT 13
THE ARRANGEMENT 14
THE PROPOSITION 5
THE ARRANGEMENT 15
THE ARRANGEMENT 16
THE ARRANGEMENT 17
THE ARRANGEMENT 18
THE WEDDING CONTRACT
SECRETS & LIES 1
SECRETS & LIES 2
SECOND CHANCES
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 1
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 2
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 3
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 4
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 5
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 6
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 7
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 8
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 9
LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED 10
THE ARRANGEMENT 19
THE ARRANGEMENT 20
MANWHORE
BROKEN PROMISES
THE ARRANGEMENT 21
STRIPPED 2
SECRETS & LIES 3
SECRETS & LIES 4
SECRETS & LIES 5
SECRETS & LIES 6
THE ARRANGEMENT 22
SECRETS & LIES 7
A DAMAGED WEDDING
EASY 1
THE ARRANGEMENT 23
THE ARRANGEMENT 24
THE ARRANGEMENT 25
THE ARRANGEMENT 26
ALL THE BROKEN PIECES 1
ALL THE BROKEN PIECES 2
ALL THE BROKEN PIECES 3
EASY 2
EASY 3
A SPECIAL NOTE ABOUT THIS STORY
I just wanted to take a moment and say thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this series. Extra hugs and thank you to Mike, the most awesome hubby ever, who helped me research the islands for this series. You are a blessing and I’m so glad to have you by my side.
The idea for ALL THE BROKEN PIECES formed years ago when we were on a dive boat in the Cayman Islands.
After that, I had to know everything about Grand Cayman. This little island can be driven end to end in about an hour.
The island has an amazing history—everything from pirates to becoming a modern paradise. It’s the perfect backdrop for the apex of this series. I can’t wait to share more of the island with you!
-H.M. Ward
COMPLETED SERIES BY H.M. WARD
ROMANCE
~THE ARRANGEMENT~
~SECRETS & LIES~
~STRIPPED~
~THE PROPOSITION~
~DAMAGED~
~LIFE BEFORE DAMAGED~
~SECRETS~
~SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT~
~SCANDALOUS~
TEEN PARANORMAL
~DEMON KISSED~
MORE FERRO FAMILY BOOKS
Trystan Scott
~BROKEN PROMISES~
Jonathan Ferro
~STRIPPED~
Bryan Ferro
~THE PROPOSITION~
Sean Ferro
~THE ARRANGEMENT~
Peter Ferro
~DAMAGED ~
Nick Ferro
~THE WEDDING CONTRACT~
Please turn the page for a suggested reading order.
MORE ROMANCE BY H.M. WARD
SCANDALOUS
SECRETS
COLLIDE: THE SECRET LIFE OF TRYSTAN SCOTT
DEMON KISSED
CHRISTMAS KISSES
OVER YOU
HOT GUY
And more.
To see a full book list, please visit:
http://hmward.com/books/
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