Temptation (Bad Angels)

by Inara Scott

  “Sorry I didn’t make it tonight,” he said.

  “Any particular reason?” she asked. “Or you just didn’t feel like it?”

  He blinked at her. “What?”

  “I figured I deserve an explanation.”

  “It wasn’t a good idea.”

  “It was a great idea,” she said. “Drinks. Friends. My birthday. And I’m twenty-nine, by the way. Kind of a big year.”

  “I figured I’d just complicate things.”

  “Really?” She folded her arms over her chest. “Why?”

  He gaped at her, mouth open. “Are we really doing this?”

  “Yes.” She unbuttoned her coat and draped it over the back of a stool. “We really are. Because I realized something in the past week. I realized a couple of things, actually. And I’m not going to act like I didn’t or pretend I don’t feel things I do. I’m done with that.”

  He sighed and rubbed his hair, then padded over to the kitchen. He set his glass down and then took a tumbler down from the cabinet and extended it a few inches toward her. “Drink?”

  “Sure.”

  He splashed a healthy amount into the class, grabbed a few ice cubes and threw them in as well before handing it to her. “It’s Jameson.”

  “One of my favorites.” She took a sip and studied him. His hand was steady as he refilled his own glass. She was glad. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him when he was drunk.

  “Do you want to sit?”

  She nodded and took a familiar position on the couch. He sat a few feet away.

  “So?” He held up his glass. “I guess I should say happy birthday. How was the party?”

  “It would have been better if you were there.”

  He winced. “Zoe, that’s just not me. You know that.”

  “I know you don’t love crowds. I know you aren’t into parties. I don’t know that you don’t go out with friends, or celebrate the birthday of someone you care about. In fact, over the years that I’ve known you, I can say with some certainty that you’ve done all of those things. You just didn’t want to do them tonight, with me.”

  He looked away, refusing to meet her gaze. “I thought this was over.”

  “This?” She motioned back and forth between them. “You know, I’d be super interested to know what you mean by ‘this.’ Because I honestly don’t know what this is, or was, or could be.”

  “We were clear from the start,” he said heavily. “Nothing. That’s all it could ever be.”

  “That’s bullshit,” she shot back. “I don’t care what we said. This meant something. We meant something.”

  “Zoe, stop.”

  “Oh no, you don’t get to decide how this works,” she said, her anger from earlier in the evening returning. “You know what, Connor? I fell in love with you. And you might not like that, or want that, but it happened.”

  His bleak look at her admission spoke volumes, and she pounced to hide the shot of pain that followed. “Your worst nightmare? Well, I’m sorry. Honestly, I don’t how you feel about me, but I do know that if you could’ve just gotten past that fear of yours and given this a try, we might have had something special. Something amazing, actually.”

  He stared down at his drink, swirling the glass in a circle and watching it move. “Please don’t do this.”

  “Don’t do what?” she asked. “Don’t say I love you? I do. I’m sorry. I know I promised not to, but I guess I that was one promise I couldn’t keep.”

  “I’m not worth it,” he said. “You deserve better. You deserve Hugh, or a guy like Mason. The life of the party. Some guy who will take you out and bring you flowers and remember anniversaries. Someone you can rely on.”

  “Once again,” she interrupted, “I’m pretty sure I get to decide the kind of guy I fall for. Also, you seem determined to underestimate yourself. And I understand why, but it’s wrong. I wish you could see that.”

  “You say that like it’s so simple,” he snapped. “Like I don’t have twenty years of experience with things going wrong. You think there’s some magical wand to wave, or you can snap your fingers to fix me? There isn’t. It doesn’t happen. People don’t change.”

  “That’s not true,” she said, jabbing her finger toward her own heart. “I changed. I figured out that I was setting myself up for failure. I hooked up with guys that treated me like I wasn’t worth a relationship because I didn’t think I was worth it. I let that fear infect everything in my life. I didn’t settle down because I wasn’t sure I deserved a home. I didn’t allow people to get too close because I didn’t believe they had any reason to stick by me. And that was wrong. All of it.”

  His hands twitched on his knees, like he was fighting a desire to move. Maybe reach out. “I was one of those guys,” he said. “I was a guy that you knew wasn’t going to treat you the way you deserved.”

  She nodded. “You were. But you don’t have to be. Connor, you’ve got this image of yourself as being fundamentally flawed—maybe even broken. But it’s not true. You call yourself unreliable, but you’re the most reliable man I’ve ever known. You make your mom scones every Saturday—how many guys do that? You’re the engine behind a multimillion-dollar company—do you really think that happens to a guy who can’t be trusted?”

  When he did not speak, she continued. “You’ve been wrecking relationships at a pretty steady clip since I’ve met you, but I’ve got a good idea that some—maybe most—of that was no accident. In fact, I suspect a lot of it was like tonight. Purposeful. Because you preferred to give up rather than try and fail.”

  A groan escaped from him, but before he could interrupt, she held up a hand. “Look, neither of us is perfect. I’m messy. My homemaking skills are even worse than my cooking. My stove had an actual layer of dust on it last week because it had been so long since I’ve bothered with anything other than takeout or cereal. I don’t know if I can keep a relationship alive, because the last one I was in was ten years ago and we all know how that ended. I desperately want a pet, but I can’t even trust myself with a plant. Also, I have a weakness for shoes.”

  He glanced down at her feet, which were wearing four-inch velvet heels with tiny bows in the back. “I appreciate that weakness,” he murmured.

  “Fundamental human flaws are fine with me,” she said, ignoring his comment. “I can accept that. You aren’t Mason or Hugh, which is fine with me, because I didn’t fall in love with them. I fell in love with you. I fell in love with a guy who doesn’t like parties. A guy who gets lost in his work. A guy who makes incredible cocktails, and cooks me dinner, and knows my body better than anyone in the world. But here’s what I’m not going to do. I’m not going to wait around for my heart to be broken. Because you need to understand that you can break it, okay? You can’t break me, but you can break my heart. And just so you know, this time you’re going to have to earn it. I gave my heart away for free last time. I’m not doing that anymore.”

  “Last time?” He gazed at her, eyes hooded and bloodshot behind his glasses. She could almost feel sorry for him if she wasn’t still riding on a wave of hurt and anger.

  “Last time,” she said firmly. “In case it wasn’t clear, we’re done. As painful as it is, I’ve realized I’ve got to walk away now, before things get any deeper.”

  “If that’s the case, why are you here?” For the first time, a spark appeared in his eyes.

  “Because I figured I owed us both a little clarity. Also, someone told me tonight I shouldn’t give up on you quite yet.”

  Connor abruptly rose to his feet. He towered above her, and for a moment, she thought she detected a hint of a sway. “They were wrong.”

  She rose to meet him, and with her heels, she still only came to his chest. Still, with every inch of her heart already starting to break, she forced herself to remain calm and collected. “That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Thirty

  Connor rolled out of bed the next morning and made himself a stiff cup of c
offee. He sat for a long time and stared out the window.

  She’d fallen in love with him?

  Did she really mean that?

  He paced the length of his apartment while he drank the entire pot of coffee, waiting for something to make sense. It never did.

  Finally, he forced himself into the kitchen to make his usual scones. Remembering that Shirley was still recovering at her daughter’s house, and he’d meant to stop on his way home to drop off a batch, he doubled the recipe.

  She was in love with him?

  He texted Nate when the scones were in the oven.

  Do I sabotage things on purpose?

  Yes. The reply came without hesitation.

  Okay, great. Just checking.

  Anytime.

  He texted Mason next.

  You screwed up with Tess, you know.

  Love will do that to a guy.

  The word “love” jarred him so badly he dropped the phone and refused to look at it again.

  He arrived at Leticia’s house by noon. When he got there, Milton’s voice welcomed him at the front door. “Good afternoon, Connor Ashton.”

  The door swung open, much like it had the day before Thanksgiving, though he’d assumed that was a onetime change his mother had made.

  “Mom?”

  “In the kitchen!”

  When he got there, she was sitting at the kitchen table, piles of loose photographs spread out in front of her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She held up a picture of him at a young age—maybe nine or ten? “Look how cute you were. Giant ears, of course, and awkward as a baby giraffe.”

  “Ah, thanks?” He slid into a seat next to her and picked up one of the two of them, a few years later. “This was right after we moved, wasn’t it? At that apartment building. We were only there for a few months before we moved to the Oak Street house.”

  “I think so.” She took the picture from him and looked at it through her reading glasses. “Oh yes, those apartments were pretty awful, but we were only there while they were doing work on the new house. Besides, they let me install my own security system. It seemed very high-tech at the time.”

  They looked through the pictures together for a few moments in silence.

  “I should have put these into albums a long time ago. But you know after your father left, everything felt so hectic. I guess it stayed like that longer than it should have.”

  “It was a tough time.”

  When he looked, Connor was surprised to see the sheen of tears in his mother’s eyes. “You okay?”

  She bit her lip. “I’d known for a long time before I caught them. I never told you that.”

  It took him a moment to figure out what she was talking about. “Caught who? Wait—you mean my father and Teri? You knew he was cheating with her?”

  She nodded. “And stealing my work. He wasn’t nearly as good at covering his tracks as he thought he was. I just kept thinking he wouldn’t really leave. That he’d realize how crazy he was being, if not for me, at least for you.”

  “I guess even the greatest geniuses in the world sometimes make mistakes.” He tried to smile, but her chin was trembling. “Hey, what brought all this on?”

  “I made you think it was your fault. And it wasn’t. I swear, I just didn’t want him to use you again. You were devastated when you’d realized what happened. It was absolutely heartbreaking—like nothing I’d ever seen. I was trying to protect you from that happening again, but I think instead I just made it all worse.”

  Leticia Ashton was not a woman prone to crying. In fact, other than the first year after his father had left, Connor couldn’t remember a time he’d seen her do it. But now there were two fat tears rolling down her face, and she wore a stricken expression when she held up a picture of him as a toddler.

  “I never thought I’d be a mom at all,” she said, wiping away the tears. “You were a miracle baby. The doctors didn’t think you’d make it, and then they said if you did, you might have all sorts of problems. But I knew you were perfect. I knew it.”

  Milton’s voice jarred the quiet room. “Visitors are arriving at the front door.”

  “Milton, you can unlock the front door.”

  “When should the door relock?” the polite computer voice asked.

  “Remain unlocked until notice.”

  “I will leave the door unlocked until further notice.”

  “Thank you, Milton.”

  Connor had barely registered the shock of having the door unlocked when Clara and Minnie entered the room.

  Clara looked from her face to the photos on the table, then to Connor. “What’s happening, Letty?”

  Leticia wiped under her eyes. “I think it’s time we showed Connor what’s in the garage, ladies.”

  “Really?” Minnie raised her eyebrows. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.” Leticia stood and motioned for Connor to follow her.

  The four of them made their way down a hallway and past the mudroom, to the garage door that was in the back of the house. When Leticia opened the door, Connor half expected to see flames shooting out, or glowing lights or even a ball of plasma. But there were none of those things. Just three separate workstations, each with a slightly different setup of plastic bottles and tubes with trailing black and red wires, yellow and red plastic measuring devices, and a series of knobs built into a small handmade control panel. There was caution tape on some panels, and several square yellow boxes wired to the instrumentation.

  “What is all this?” he asked.

  “Cold fusion,” Leticia replied. “But not the sort you were imagining. Remember that comment you made about me not doing science fair projects?”

  He nodded uneasily. “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  “And we’re helping,” Clara added.

  He swung around to look at the other women. “Science fair? I don’t understand.”

  Leticia’s voice held a hint of shame when she responded. “We’ve been volunteering for some time at the high school, helping the Women in STEM club—you know, the one for young women who want to get involved in the sciences and math. Anyway, a few of the young ladies asked us to help them with their science fair projects.”

  “They were interested in energy,” Minnie added. “Letty suggested fusion, and they loved the idea.”

  “We’re very careful,” Leticia said. “I wouldn’t expose them to unnecessary risks.”

  Connor kept looking from the tables to the three women, all of whom looked a little guilty.

  “That’s it? Science fair projects? But why did you keep this a secret?” he asked, astonished. “You knew I was worried. Why in the world didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “It didn’t start out this way,” Leticia admitted. “About a year ago, I was chatting with a few colleagues at MIT who got me thinking about cold fusion.” She gestured toward a large metal structure in the far corner of the room. “That was my first project. It was fun, but nothing that was going to change the world.”

  “So you were doing experiments in here,” Connor said grimly. “I knew it.”

  “Of course I was. But they weren’t going anywhere without a much bigger and better lab.”

  “And you had a few accidents,” Minnie observed.

  Leticia glared at Minnie. “Very small accidents. Nothing dramatic.” Minnie snorted, but Leticia ignored her. “I’m not an idiot, you know, so I started working with a couple of physicists at Berkeley and using their facilities. Once I did that, I decided to give my original project to the girls from the high school. I don’t need it anymore, and it’s worth a lot to them.”

  Clara rolled her eyes. “We told her to tell you the truth.”

  “And I was going to, right up until the time he started spying on me,” Leticia said stiffly.

  Connor crossed his arms over his chest. “This isn’t just because of Zoe.”

  Leticia sighed. “No, you’re right. Hones
tly, it wasn’t until you sent us Zoe that I realized how bad it had gotten, or how much it affected you. Or maybe I did know, but I didn’t want to admit it. I want you to know I’m working on being a little less crazy. I can’t promise I won’t lock the garage—there are some dangerous things in here I don’t want people going through. But I never meant to suggest I didn’t trust you. Because I do. And it breaks my heart to think that all the work I did to try to keep you safe and make things better might have made things worse.”

  “Mom, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

  She shook her head. “Not, it’s not okay. And honestly, sweetheart, I’m not sure you are, either.”

  Something tightened in his chest. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore it. “What do you mean?”

  “We need to talk about Zoe,” Clara said gently.

  “Zoe?” Connor drew back, feeling his stomach clench. “What about her?”

  “You should not have asked her to spy on me.” Leticia had regained a little of her regal bearing, and she pinned him with a steely look. “Though I do understand why you did it.”

  “Regardless,” Minnie said, “we like her. Don’t tell her I said it, but she’s actually gotten quite good at cards. Not as good as the rest of us, of course, but with some training, she could be competitive.”

  “She’s also hot,” Clara whispered. “And single.”

  “And you should probably stay out of it,” Connor said, unable to keep his voice as light as he hoped.

  “What happened?” Leticia asked. “You were like two peas in a pod those first couple of weeks. Now you barely speak to each other.”

  He closed his eyes, feeling his resistance to discussing it ebb away. “Honestly, I screwed things up. Like usual, except this time, it’s different.”

  “Different because you want to fix it?” Leticia asked.

  He nodded. The admission made the weight on his shoulders lighter and heavier, all at once.

  “You should call her,” Minnie said.

  “Send her flowers,” Clara said. “Also, work on your skills in the bedroom. Women appreciate it when you put in some effort.”