By the Hour

by Roni Loren

  Her mom peered over with a knowing look. “I love Nina. She is my youngest and my dreamer, a romantic at heart—which is hard for practical people like you and me to understand. But the downside is that she has always been insecure. She needs someone like Henry to fill in those gaps for her. She wants someone to take care of her. And despite his past bad behavior, I think he actually loves her.”

  Elle snorted. “Henry loves himself.”

  “Yes, that’s true, too. But he’s sweet with her. And I at least know he’s not cheating.”

  Her attention flicked back to her mother. “How would you know that?”

  Cassandra gave an unapologetic shrug. “I had a private detective follow him for the last year. He’s been faithful. And he’ll support her. So I’m not going to stop them, despite the unpleasantness he brought into our family.”

  “Is that what we’re calling it?” Elle asked, unable to hide the vinegar in her tone. The complete destruction of her marriage, the life she thought she would have, and her relationship with her sister was simply unpleasantness? Good to know.

  Her mom reached out and patted her hand. “Don’t begrudge your sister her version of happiness. I know how it happened has hurt you and it was wrong, but in the end, she saved you from a miserable life.”

  Elle frowned.

  “Henry made you weak. He made you question yourself. He wanted someone to need him and you didn’t, so he tried to break you down and create that neediness. You would never have gotten to where you are now if you had stayed with him. You’d be some broken version or yourself or you’d become me—working all the hours you have to avoid dealing with your gallivanting husband and then stressing yourself so much about it, you give yourself cancer after he’s gone.”

  The words echoed around her head, almost too much to take in, but the last sentence registered just fine. “You didn’t give yourself cancer, Mom. And Nina told me you blamed our riff for that.”

  Her mom lifted her gaze to the heavens and shook her head. “Oh, Nina. That girl should’ve been a lawyer. She bends the truth just enough to make it believable.” She looked back to Elle. “I told her to mend things with you or I wasn’t paying for the wedding.”

  Elle’s lips parted. “You what?”

  “This has gone on too long. Back when it happened, I didn’t want our family to be the center of gossip. After what you’d been through, I wanted to save you that kind of humiliation. I’d been there before. It’s why we left Napa.”

  Elle blinked. “What?”

  “You girls were too young to know, but one of your father’s indiscretions landed me in the center of nasty gossip. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Somehow the wife always gets blamed. So when things happened with your marriage, I tried to make it seem to everyone like your marriage was already done before things started up with Nina and Henry. But by protecting you, I also protected her. No more.” She sipped her drink, clearly annoyed at the memory. “She made the mistake. She needed to fix it. I’ve got bigger things to worry about right now than you two sniping at each other. I don’t have much family left. I need my daughters around me for what I’m about to face. Both of you.”

  Elle nodded, a pang of guilt moving through her. “I’m sorry, Mom. You know I’ll be here for whatever you need. Nina and I will make it work.”

  “I have faith that you can do more than that. Your sister betrayed you. That will never be undone, but I think you can both move forward. You won, after all. Who do you think is going to end up on the better end of things? She’s got to spend her whole life with Henry.” She gave Elle a conspiratorial smile. “You get to spend yours with that good-looking man who almost made you swoon like a schoolgirl with just a kiss.”

  Elle straightened in the chair. “I—”

  “Honestly, Ellie, I never thought I’d see the day when you looked at a guy like he hung the moon and stars just for you. I almost didn’t recognize you. It was like some other woman had appeared in my garden.” She reached out and squeezed Elle’s arm. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart. Women like us often end up with marriages that are practical instead of magical. But I think you and that new man of yours may have found some fairy dust.”

  The words landed on Elle like winter rain, sending a chill into her bones that sank deep. She forced a smile to her lips. “I don’t believe in magic, Mom, but I am lucky to have found him.”

  Chapter 18

  Lane pulled a tie from his suitcase, looped it around his neck, and listened to the shower water run as Elle got ready for the rehearsal dinner. The scent of her shampoo—fresh mangoes—drifted from beneath the door and invaded his brain like a sensual fog, making him picture things he shouldn’t and forget how to tie his tie. He cursed under his breath, pushing away thoughts of fruit-scented bubbles sliding over naked skin, and started his knot again.

  This was his own damn fault. He should’ve never said those things to Elle in the garden and kissed her earlier this afternoon. He’d done it to convince her mother, to play the part he’d promised to play, but the whole thing had come too easily. He’d looked down at Elle’s face, had seen the strength and beauty there, the determination to survive this gauntlet of a weekend, and the words had just tumbled out.

  He’d feigned relationships and affection more times than he cared to count. He’d sold those words and smiles and kisses. Had sold more than that. But this afternoon, he hadn’t had to pull from some script. He’d spoken the truth. No, they weren’t engaged. But Elle was brilliant, talented, and tough. Elle didn’t need a man. But in that moment, he’d wished like hell that she needed him.

  His words had brought tears to her eyes and that had punched him right in the sternum. Elle could put on a front like a champ, but in that moment, that show of emotion was real. Elle wouldn’t fake cry. She would find that silly and weak. He’d hit some nerve, had gotten a glimpse of something tender and vulnerable beneath all those honed steel layers.

  When he’d wiped away her tears, he’d felt this surge of protectiveness that he’d never experienced before. Not the brutish, I-want-to-beat-up-your ex urge that he’d felt when they’d met Henry—though that was there, too—but more this aching desire to be the one she came to without armor, the one she could trust not to wound her. The one she’d trust with those tears.

  From what he could tell, Elle had never had that soft place to fall. She had to have her guard up with everyone. Even her mother, who seemed to genuinely care for Elle, believed Elle was meant to be alone. The untouchable queen in her castle of ice, meant to share her brain and talent with the world but nothing else. Elle seemed to buy into that fate, too. And who could blame her? The one guy she’d given her trust to had treated that gift like it was some throwaway trinket at the bottom of a cereal box. And her family hadn’t rallied behind her when he’d crushed that trust.

  Elle was smart enough to recognize when something was a bad bet. She’d learned what a relationship could do to her. She would avoid becoming that layman’s definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. She hadn’t done the same thing ever again. She’d changed course and protected herself. Was still doing it. Pushing people away.

  She’d hurt him. Maybe on purpose. Maybe because that was all she knew how to do. And he’d set a boundary, one to protect his own pride…and heart.

  But his plan wasn’t working.

  The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted her, the more he felt for her. But he couldn’t tell what was driving that. Lust? The challenge? Something more than that? The last possibility was what had him worried.

  Because knowing why Elle was the way she was helped him understand her better, but it didn’t mean he could accept that treatment from her. She’d let him know how she felt time and again. She was embarrassed about his job. She wouldn’t date him publicly. Even now, her family believed he was someone he wasn’t. This could never work. He had to get that through his head.

  But when she walked out half
an hour later in a sexy royal-blue dress that would guarantee she’d outshine the bride tonight, his body forgot to listen to that advice.

  She put her hand on her hip and tilted her head. “You all right? Did I smear my makeup or something?”

  Lane got up from the side of the bed and cleared his throat, trying to keep his eyes off the plunging neckline of her dress. “Uh, no, sorry, just lost in thought. You look great.”

  Her gaze glided down his matching blue tie and his gray suit. She walked over and adjusted the knot on his tie and then gave it a playful flick. “You clean up nice, too, Cannon. You’ll be the beau of the ball.”

  “No one’s going to notice me if you’re on my arm.”

  A half-smile touched her lips. “You don’t have to pretend right now. We’re behind closed doors.”

  He reached out and centered the pendant on her necklace, indulging in the feel of her skin against his knuckles. “Elle, we’re pretending we’re a couple. I never have to pretend that you’re beautiful. That’s just a verifiable fact.”

  Her gaze met his, her mascara-darkened eyelashes making her eyes look electric blue in the lamplight. She wet her lips and her throat worked. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Not for the compliment,” she said, pressing her fingers against her necklace, the place he’d just touched. “But for all of this. No one…” Her throat worked. “No one’s ever done something this nice for me. You’re…an amazing guy, Lane.”

  He shook his head and tucked his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her again. “I’m just a guy, doc. This is how you should be treated. Don’t let the people outside these doors make you think you deserve any less than that. They’ve given you a warped view of what you should expect from people.”

  She smirked, though it seemed more sad than sardonic. “They have. But I also know that I’ve done enough not to deserve this from you.” She gripped his tie again and then pushed up on her toes. She brushed her lips over his cheek in an all-too-brief kiss before pulling back. “So, thank you.”

  There was so much he wanted to do in that moment. He wanted to haul her against him, part her lips and taste her, feel her body fitted to his and hear his name on her lips. He wanted to convince her that it didn’t have to be this way. He wanted her to show up to the rehearsal dinner with flushed cheeks and a wrinkled dress and a satisfied smile on her face. He wanted it all.

  He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Anytime, doc.”

  She rolled her lips inward and nodded. “Okay, guess it’s time to go play bridesmaid and not lose my shit in front of everyone. Fingers crossed.”

  “Worried you’re going to throw a punch?” he asked. “Because frankly, I don’t blame you. Your ex could use a good knock to the head. Or the soft parts.”

  “I wish it were that. Anger actually helps me keep it together. This isn’t that.” She lifted her hand and showed him how it trembled. “I don’t think I’ve been this close to a panic attack in years. I should probably have a stiff drink before I get there. The thought of all those people looking at me and thinking—oh, she’s the one he left for her sister. It shouldn’t bother me, but…”

  He took her hand and sandwiched it between his palms, pressing heat into her cold fingers. “Of course it bothers you. You’re human.”

  She groaned. “My worst nightmare is having Henry or Nina see me fall apart. I don’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing I’m bothered at all. But I feel like I have a live wire inside me. Everything’s setting me on edge. Maybe I should’ve brought a Valium.”

  He smiled. “Let’s not recreate the Sixteen Candles wedding scene, all right? I don’t want to have to carry you out over my shoulder.”

  “At least I wouldn’t be panicking. People would just assume I have a drinking problem. That’s way more acceptable in this social circle.”

  “Tell me what I can do to help,” he said, taking both her hands in his. “Do you want me to tell everyone you’re feeling sick?”

  She shook her head. “They’d see right through that. I don’t want to be a coward. I need to be there.” She rolled her shoulders. “I just wish I could shake it off. It’s dumb. What the hell do I care what these people I never see think of me? I’m a grown woman. This shouldn’t affect me.”

  “Worrying about those people’s opinions was ingrained into you growing up. It’s embedded deep. Just like my issues with school. We know it’s not a life or death situation, but our body still reacts like it’s a real threat. So, don’t be so hard on yourself. We all have some fucked-up wiring. Life is an inefficient electrician.”

  She lowered her head and pressed her forehead to his shoulder with a groan. “You are such a therapist sometimes.”

  “I’m not a therapist yet. I just play one this weekend.”

  She lifted her head and gave him a look. “Don’t do that. You help people. You just have a different title.”

  He lifted a brow and released her hands. “Says the lady who once told me I was just a hired dick with a certification.”

  Her mouth dipped into a frown. “I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I was wrong. If you haven’t noticed, I have an uncanny habit of saying the most damaging things possible when I see someone as a threat.”

  The words weren’t what he expected. No pretense, no excuses, just the bald truth. “Why was I threat?”

  She shrugged but her gaze slid away. “Because you’re everything I’m not. Fun. Social. Well-liked. You’re everything I try to avoid. Someone who’s easy to get attached to, someone who, by definition of his job, can’t be faithful. But…I wanted you anyway. Even when I knew it wasn’t good for either of us. Even now, when I know I can’t fix the situation or offer you what you deserve. You still make me…wish things were different, wish I was different.”

  His breath gusted out of him.

  “We’re going to be late.” She stepped past him and went to the bed to get her purse and slip on her shoes, putting her back to him.

  He closed the distance between them and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened beneath his touch and he dropped his arm to his side. But she turned around to face him, her expression closed off.

  He sighed. “Doc, you realize that I never wanted you different, right? Who you are was always what drew me back to you. I like how determined and tough you are. I like that you don’t take any bullshit and push back. I like that your kink is my kink. I like you because you’re different.”

  A muscle in her cheek twitched, her eyes flashing with an emotion that had escaped her fortress.

  “We’re not rolling around in that bed right now because I don’t fit into your mold of who you wish I’d be, not the other way around.”

  She winced. “I’ve never asked you to change.”

  “You didn’t have to,” he said softly. “Hiding our relationship told me all I needed to know.”

  She blinked, a stark sadness coming over her face. “Lane…”

  “We better go,” he said stiffly. “If we walk in late, you’ll have even more eyes on you.”

  He didn’t wait for her response. He grabbed the keys off the nightstand and headed out the door. He couldn’t have this conversation right now. It hurt too much. It tempted him to go against his personal code, to accept her terms, to be with her in secret so he didn’t have to walk away from her after this weekend.

  But he’d spent the first part of his life accepting scraps. Scraps of attention. Scraps of affection. Used only when needed.

  He couldn’t do it again.

  Even for her.

  Chapter 19

  Elle stood in the back of the courtyard, holding a thick book of Shakespeare her mother had asked her to carry in and trying to look unperturbed but feeling like a swarm of bees had set up shop in her chest.

  The cobblestone courtyard outside Hotel Bienville had been draped with vintage string lights, the burning bulbs artfully arranged to illuminate all the go
rgeous flowers and statuary. It looked elegant and old-fashioned and magical—like the event could be taking place in a different era or on the cover of a book. She’d thought the same thing when she’d chosen it for her wedding ceremony, but Henry had nixed the idea immediately. His mother had insisted they marry in the family’s preferred church. He’d told her he believed in saying his vows in front of God, so she’d relented, respecting his beliefs.

  But apparently he’d changed his stance on that, because his new wedding was going to be in this courtyard garden. Or maybe his church frowned upon lying, cheating bastards and he couldn’t get a spot. If so, maybe Elle needed to take up religion because she’d sing a hallelujah for that. But of course Henry and Nina would pick this place to get married. It was breathtaking. Who cared if it was the same place Elle had wanted? Nina may not even know that detail, but Henry sure did.

  He’d take pleasure in taking that away from her, in needling her. How she’d ever let herself love a man like that, she didn’t know. Her past self had been skilled in making horrible decisions. She wasn’t sure her present self had gotten much better.

  She took a deep, steadying breath and let her eyes travel to the back of a blond head in the third row of chairs—Lane, sitting casually and talking to another guest. Her stomach tightened into a fist.

  He’d been cordial on the drive over, their conversation from the bedroom closed, but the feelings lingered in her like the aftereffects of a camera flash, setting her off balance and altering how she saw things. I like you because you’re different.

  She’d known she’d hurt him by hiding their relationship. He’d made that clear before. But she’d convinced herself that she was doing him a favor. He didn’t need someone in his life who had her temper or her hardheadedness. She could be a complete pain in the ass and didn’t want to change that. But he’d yanked her reasons right out from under her.