by Nina Crespo
Chapter Twenty
Rafe parked in Alexa’s driveway and got out of his SUV. He balanced a beverage holder with two cardboard cups filled with coffee in one hand and a white bag in the other.
Elementary-aged children boarded a bus on the corner while luxury SUVs and cars waited. The rows of near-identical two- and three-story homes with manicured lawns was a huge switch from the worn-down neighborhood where he’d grown up. Did those kids have any idea how lucky they were?
He walked the path to the front door.
Alexa’s kicking Brad out had made him proud of her—and left him on edge. He’d wanted to drive over and see for himself that she was fine. He’d missed her, but Alexa had made it clear that she needed space so she could handle business and look after her parents. Last night she’d said they’d get together today, but she hadn’t given him a time. So he’d stopped by the office and found out she was working from home. Now, in front of her place, Rafe rang the doorbell. It had taken some convincing, but he’d talked her administrative assistant into giving him the pass code to enter the security gate. Hopefully the coffee, pastries, and breakfast sandwiches he’d brought would win him forgiveness points for barging in on her.
Alexa opened the door and stared at him. With her hair in a messy, high ponytail, makeup-free face, and an oversize shirt that hit her at mid-thigh, she looked like a teen.
Wait. Was that his sweatshirt? He barely had time to brace himself before she sprang across the threshold and wrapped her arms around his neck.
She peppered him with kisses. “What took you so long? My assistant said you left my office over an hour ago.”
He hadn’t landed on her shit list for invading her space. Yes! Knots relaxed in his gut. “I had to pick up fresh sandwiches and coffee.”
She hugged him tighter, and he breathed in her scent. He’d refrained from changing the sheets on his bed because her floral perfume still lingered on them. It was such a strong reminder of her, he’d awakened the other morning expecting to see her lying beside him.
“Coffee.” She released him. “How did you know?” She took the carrier from his hand and pulled him inside.
“How did I know that you like coffee?” Rafe shut the door.
“No. How did you know that I’m stuck with a kitchen stocked with beet juice, granola, and tofu.”
“Tofu’s okay if you prepare it right.”
“Don’t get on my bad side. Right now, I’ll love you forever. You brought bacon.” Her eyes narrowed in mock interrogation. “It is real bacon, right?”
I’ll love you forever. His breastbone tingled. It was just something she said casually, like when he’d made coffee after their first night together. “Yes, ma’am.”
As she led him through the cream-tiled entryway, he caught a glimpse of a formal dining room on the right with a highly polished wood table and seating for eight. To the left, arched cutouts in the wall displayed expensive-looking, multicolored vases. On the way to their destination, they passed a staircase. At the top of it hung a large gold-framed painting. What he’d spotted rivaled photos in the design magazines one of the bartenders at the club liked to read. The kitchen too. Beige granite countertops. Rich dark wood cabinets. An island with a built-in marble slab. Recessed, shiny, stainless steel appliances.
Bubble wrap popped under his boot. More of it hung out of open boxes on the floor. “Catching up on packing?” He set the bag on the granite-topped counter.
“I have no idea what I’m doing.” She sipped coffee. “I’ve spent most of the morning getting stuff out of the garbage disposal. It still doesn’t work.”
“Want me to take a look?”
“Would you mind?”
“For a kiss? Not at all.”
She laughed and set down her cup. “Just a kiss?”
He grasped her hips. She had shorts or something underneath the shirt. Too bad. “Sure. As a down payment.”
“How can I turn down such a generous offer?”
He plunged his tongue into her mouth and cupped her ass. Her curves fit into their rightful place against him, awakening need.
She pressed her hands against his chest and eased back. “I’ll hand over the rest later at your place.”
Alexa was coming back with him. He could wait. Barely. He stole another kiss. “You should probably change if you want me to concentrate.”
She grinned. “I’ll be back.”
He took plates from the dishrack for the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches and assorted fruit pastries he’d bought at a café. It took a few minutes, but he figured out the buttons on the fancy microwave built into the wall next to the stove and set the sandwiches to reheat.
Ripped cardboard clung to tape on the cartons, as if the boxes had been opened.
That was strange. Had she packed something by mistake and needed to find it?
Alexa returned wearing jeans and a fitted navy T-shirt. “Everything has decided to break down at the same time.”
“What’s up.” The microwave dinged, and he took out their food.
“The sink in the master bath is clogged.”
“Might be soap buildup. Boiling water could open it up.”
“I think there’s a lot of hair in it. There’s a home improvement store down the road. I’ll drop by and pick up some drain cleaner. Sorry. I’m complaining about garbage disposals and backed-up sinks when we’re supposed to be enjoying breakfast.” Alexa chose a sugar-dusted pastry and took a bite.
He kissed sweet powder and a spot of red jelly from the corner of her mouth. Strawberry. “I am enjoying it.” The pastry tasted even better on her. “I’ll check the sink out after I work on the disposal. Why don’t you make a list of stuff you need done?”
Her shoulders fell. “I don’t want to waste our time together.”
“I thought you were working from home?”
“Mainly, I just have to keep my cell close. I had a long day yesterday.” A troubled expression crossed her face. “I could use a break.”
“In that case, you got me for the whole day. The renovations are going smoothly at the club, and Shannon can handle the rest. You can put me to work for a few hours and still have time for fun later.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and slipped her hands into his back jeans pockets. “I like the sound of that.”
“See. It’s an easy fix.” Rafe kissed her. “Just wait until you get my bill.”
While they ate, she made a shopping list. “Lightbulbs. Can’t forget those. I think that’s it.”
Rafe polished off the last bite of his sandwich. “Do you have a toolbox? Most of my stuff is at the club.”
“No, but there may be some tools in one of those drawers.” She pointed to the ones at the end of the counter near the corner of the kitchen. “Or I can buy what you need.”
“Don’t waste your money. I have some basics with me. I can make it work. First, I need a bucket, then point me toward the master bath.”
She retrieved a pail from the cabinet underneath the sink. “Upstairs, first door on the right. Excuse the messy bedroom. I didn’t get a chance to clean up.”
Outside, Alexa gave him a smile and a wave as she drove off.
He grabbed a rolled-up pouch of tools and a flashlight from the back of his SUV. She had a lot on her plate with packing and the move. When they got back to his studio, he’d make her dinner, she could relax, and then he’d talk to her about what had been on his mind. Inside the house, he locked the door and left his boots off to the side. She didn’t have to spend her final days in town living with boxes and bad memories. He wanted her to stay with him until she left. He was still figuring out how to broach the topic of him coming to visit her in Seattle once she’d gotten settled. Nothing too structured. She’d also come back to see her parents at some point. Hopefully, she’d reserve part of that time for him.
He searched through one of the drawers Alexa had pointed out in the kitchen. It was filled with papers, instructions for the appliances
, including the disposal. He didn’t need it.
The drawer next to it was jammed halfway.
He shook it, then slipped his hand in to shift the contents.
It opened, and the culprit stood out.
The box was probably empty. She wouldn’t store jewelry with what appeared to be junk. He moved it aside and sifted through pens, pads, takeout menus, chip clips, and other items. The mini-screwdriver was useless to him, but the Allen wrench could come in handy.
Twenty minutes later, he’d solved the garbage disposal problem. He tossed the hunk of carrot that had been caught beneath the blade into the trash under the sink. The circuit breaker had shut off as a precaution.
Rafe drifted up the stairs, carrying the bucket and the tools. The dark-colored painting depicted men wearing red caps and knee-length pants paddling gondolas down a stretch of water between ancient-looking buildings. Women in the background wore long dresses. It triggered remembrances of a museum show Eden had dragged him to featuring Italian art. One of the paintings at the show had been similar to this one. Which city had been in the painting? Venice?
In the hallway, to the right, he passed a modern executive office and a workout room with a treadmill, a spin bike, and weight machines. A red gym bag sat in the corner next to a wall of mirrors.
The master bedroom was through the first door on the opposite end of the hall. Farther down from it, there were two more doors on one side and three more on the other.
Best estimate, he could fit his entire studio inside of the house at least six times. His place must have felt like a closet to her.
In the blue-themed, spa-like bathroom, water topped with scum filled the sink.
Rafe got to work. The pipe underneath the cabinet was stubborn, but he loosened it.
He heard movement in the bedroom. “Babe, you should probably bring some rags in here. This could get messy.” Had he really just called her babe? It had just slipped out. He grinned. Alexa hadn’t given him flack for it the way she had when he’d called her princess.
A figure stood outside the bathroom.
“Did yo—” He turned around, but instead of Alexa, her ex stood in the doorway wearing a tailor-made blue suit and shiny black lace-ups that made him look as if he’d stepped right out of pretty boy weekly. He carried the red bag that had been in the workout room. Rafe straightened, holding the wrench. “Brad.”
Brad looked him up and down. “You’re not the regular plumber. Wait. I recognize you.” He acted puzzled, as if he were trying hard to remember, but the asshole clearly recognized him. “Don’t tell me. It’s coming to me. I heard the women in my office talking about you.” He snapped his fingers. “Got it. You’re that stripper, Raphael the Dream Maker.”
“Rafe will do, and I own Club Escapade.”
“Expanding your resume. Stripper, club guy, handyman, but hey, I understand.” He winked. “A guy like you has to take on odd jobs to make ends meet.”
Rafe laid the wrench next to the sink and crossed his arms over his chest. If he didn’t put it down, he might use it on Brad. “Spare me the bullshit. I know this game. You say something to tick me off. I get the satisfaction of punching the shit out of you, but I also get taken in by the police for assault. You’re not worth the trouble.”
“This is my house. I could still have you arrested for trespassing.”
“Yeah, you could make that call, but you’d look like more of a dick than you already are when Alexa comes back and blows up the claim.”
“You’re really stupid if you think Alexa’s going to choose you over me. What can you offer her?”
Rafe picked up the wrench. “It’s not a matter of choice. She’s moving.”
“I’m close to changing her mind about that. Sure, we had a small fight, but we’re working things out.” Brad glanced to the unmade bed, offered up a nonchalant shrug, and grinned. “Guess you missed the engagement ring I put back on her finger.”
A vision sprang up in Rafe’s mind of the jewelry box in the drawer downstairs.
Brad smirked as he pushed the strap of the gym bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your work. Hey, the toilet is acting up. You should probably get on that, too.” He whistled as he left. His footsteps faded.
The front door closed.
Was Brad talking trash, or was he telling the truth?
Rafe clomped down the stairs. He yanked open the corner drawer, dug out the jewelry box, and opened it.
The diamond sparkled.
No one stored an expensive ring in a junk drawer. Had she taken it off before he’d gotten there? The sandwich he’d eaten sat like lead inside of him. Alexa had barely stayed in touch with him this past week. She’d claimed she was busy with work and prepping for the move. But then she’d been evasive when he’d asked her about packing. Eden had acted in the same cagey way when she’d secretly reconciled with her ex. She’d kept him on the hook, for her amusement. Is that what Alexa was doing?
Pretty Miss Rich Girl…
Chapter Twenty-One
Alexa hurried through the front door of her house carrying plastic shopping bags. No doubt Rafe was wondering where she’d been. Lines at the home improvement store had held her up. Hopefully the repairs and repacking the stuff Brad had taken out wouldn’t take too long. She wanted to get back to the studio and indulge in her latest fantasy of smearing pastry sugar on Rafe and taking her time licking it off.
“I’m back,” she called out. He didn’t answer. She went to the kitchen.
He leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared down at his booted feet.
“Sorry I took so long. The store was really crowded.” She placed the bags and her purse on the counter across from him. As she started to approach, Rafe looked up.
His direct stare made her falter. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you changed your mind about moving to Seattle?”
She’d thought more about that last night but hadn’t told anyone what she was considering yet. Not even Nat and Cori. “Who told you that?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me. What matters is that I didn’t hear it from you.”
“There was nothing to tell.”
“Just like there was nothing for you to tell me about you getting re-engaged to Brad?”
“What? No.” Confusion jumbled her words. “Brad and I aren’t together. We’re not seeing each other.”
“That’s not what he said.” Rafe uncrossed his arms. He held up the ring box, then slapped it down on the counter beside him. “You accepted this back from him, did you not?”
He must have found it looking for tools. She’d forgotten it was in the drawer. “Not really. Brad left it here.”
“Did you put it back on your finger?”
Only to admire how pretty it was one last time. “Yes, but not be—”
He waved away her excuse. “Forget it. I don’t even know why I’m asking these questions. It doesn’t matter.” Rafe pushed away from the counter.
“Wait. Let me explain.”
“No need.” His expression remained neutral. His green eyes were just as cool. “Our agreement was just until you left for Seattle or the time it didn’t work for one of us anymore. Well, I’m at the point where it’s not working for me. I’m out.”
He left the kitchen. The front door shut.
Alexa stood by the counter in disbelief, her feet rooted in the same spot as Rafe’s questions about her and Brad played through her mind.
While she was gone, Brad must have come by. Ego, jealousy, whatever the reason, he’d lied to Rafe about them getting back together. She’d kill him when she saw him. But first, Rafe needed to listen to her.
The sound of him revving up his car’s engine filtered in.
She ran to the front door but stopped short of opening it. Rafe hadn’t trusted her enough to give her a chance to explain…but it didn’t matter. He’d said he’d reached the point where their relationship wasn’t working for him. Bu
t maybe if she explained, he’d believe her. Alexa gripped the door handle.
“I’m out.”
She’d naïvely interpreted Brad’s cheating behaviors as something else. Was she really going to ignore what Rafe had plainly said to her?
As the sound of his car faded away, she released the handle and rested her forehead against the door. How much clearer did he need to make it? They made an agreement. She wouldn’t embarrass herself by running after him.
Alexa blinked back tears. No crying. It was stupid to be upset. Things were destined to end soon between them anyway, right? But she’d never anticipated them ending their arrangement this way. Or for going their separate ways to hurt so much. She was totally unprepared for this shit. A sad, bitter laugh escaped her. She didn’t even have wine or chocolate ice cream in the house to help her over the hump.
Ten minutes later, Alexa was standing in front of the glass refrigerator holding the ice cream at the grocery store. Cold air wafted around her. She tossed pints of chocolate brownie and chocolate chip ice cream into her wire basket, then grabbed two pints of chocolate peanut butter cup. Figuring out her life was going to take a while. She should stock up. Alexa let go, and the door smacked shut.
Across the aisle, a slim, middle-aged blonde wearing yoga gear and tennis shoes pushed a cart filled with fresh vegetables, chicken breasts, and a box of oat bran. As the woman opened the door to the frozen berries section, she glanced down at Alexa’s basket.
In the past Alexa would have smiled an apology or made some comment to explain away her load of comfort food. Instead, she squared her shoulders. Judge me all you want, Miss Perfect. Right now, my life sucks. Prepared for a look of condemnation, the woman’s eyes narrowed briefly as she glanced at her instead. A dawn of recognition came over the blonde’s face, followed by a compassionate smile. She knew Alexa’s pain.
