Unbreakable Hearts

by Harper Bentley

  Chapter 12

  Doug sat staring at the ring he’d bought for Tilly then slammed back the shot of bourbon that sat in front of him.

  “Stupid bitch. Has no clue what she’s giving up,” he told the bartender who stood nearby drying glasses. Doug held up his tumbler, twisting it quickly from side to side at the guy, annoyed that he hadn’t figured out swiftly enough that he needed a refill. “And her idiot brother, who thinks he’s so goddamned badass, just screwed everything up. If he hadn’t been there, I would’ve proposed and she would most definitely have said yes. Now everything’s gone to shit. Stupid motherfucker,” he continued.

  The bartender nodded as if he understood everything he was saying as he filled his glass. Fucker probably hadn’t even heard him. Doug took a sip. “Know how much that bastard cost?” Doug nodded at the ring box on the bar in front of him.

  The bartender looked up, shook his head then resumed his cleaning duties.

  “Nine hundred, fifty-eight dollars and twelve cents. Took that from my savings! Now what am I supposed to do with it?” He took another drink. “Guess I can wait for the next Mrs. Doug Donati to come along then give it to her, huh?”

  The bartender raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Tapping a finger on the bar to get his attention, Doug said to him, “Ready to cash out. How much do I owe you?”

  “Twenty-two fifty,” the barkeep replied.

  Doug put a twenty and three ones on the bar. “Keep the change.” Ignoring the guy’s scowl, he walked outside, hailed a cab and went home.

  ***

  “You’re telling me that she might still have copies on her PC?” Graham asked.

  He’d been thinking how things had gone way too easily in taking the cameras. Something about it kept nagging at him, so he’d called the photographer he used to date to find out what the proper protocol was when one took pictures, using the false premise that his wife had taken up the hobby and he needed to find a certain picture she’d taken.

  “Yes. More than likely I’d download everything either wirelessly or by USB to my computer. Then I’d separate them into folders, ones I liked, ones that weren’t so hot. Sometimes I even had an online folder I’d store them in,” Alicia informed him.

  Graham should’ve known there was more to it than what he’d originally thought. He was a smart man. One didn’t get where he stood on the corporate ladder by ignoring details.

  “You sure your wife wouldn’t want me to come by and set everything up for her? I could stick around afterward and play some games with you,” his ex cajoled.

  “Another time, Alicia. Thank you for the information.” He hung up irritated with himself that he’d practically gone into this one blind. Zim had been taken care of. Meegan had been warned not to be a whistleblower. Everything should’ve been good, but he’d failed to cover all the bases.

  But now he smirked as he realized the game wasn’t over. He’d just have to make another visit to Ms. Maxwell’s to make sure the picture was completely destroyed. And he wasn’t going to leave until he was certain it was.

  ***

  Oz noticed a woman standing behind him and turned with a start. “Oh, hey, I didn’t hear you come in. Great security guy I am, huh?” He chuckled.

  The woman didn’t say anything back, just stood staring at him as if she’d seen a ghost. He tilted his head to the side as he watched her, knowing he’d seen her before but not being able to place her. She was gorgeous, that much he did know, with her straight, blond shoulder-length hair, a fucking sweet body that was rocking the jeans she was wearing, a navy sweater that was shorter in the front and showing just a sliver of her flat stomach, and then there were her eyes. Man, they were beautiful. Teal.

  Holy shit. He’d only seen eyes that color once in his life.

  “Tilly? Is that you?” he said, shocked as hell that she was standing in front of him. Even though they hadn’t had a relationship in high school (although he’d wanted one), he still remembered her, remembered their kiss, remembered that suddenly she’d been gone, that from that moment on, he’d referred to her as “the one that got away.”

  She sucked in a breath, looking surprised that he knew who she was. God, if she didn’t remember him, it’d be like a kick in the gut. But then she said quietly, “John?”

  He grinned. Thank God. “Yeah, you remember me?”

  She looked embarrassed as she smoothed her hair back from her face, nervously touching the glasses that were propped on top of her head. “Yes. Yes, of course, I remember you. You were the star quarterback,” she said with a smile that lit up her face.

  Damn. Beautiful. Like always. He’d always loved her curly, blond hair but saw that she straightened it now, which was stunning and also the reason he hadn’t recognized her right away. But now he remembered that when they’d kissed and he’d touched her face, her creamy skin had felt as soft as it’d looked. And those haunting eyes. Her eyes were killer having a dark blue rim surrounding the teal iris. Gorgeous. He couldn’t believe it was her as he walked over and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, which made her tense up, but after a few seconds, he felt her relax then wind her arms around his waist.

  Wow. Tilly Maxwell. He didn’t know how many times he’d thought of her in the past ten years, but it’d been a lot. She’d been the only girl he’d truly been interested in back in high school, her sweet demeanor drawing him to her like a moth to a flame. But they couldn’t have been more different if they’d tried. He’d been the bad boy with a police record, and she was the somewhat nerdy girl with a fantastic figure who took pictures of him for the yearbook, timidly giving him a couple here and there. He remembered flirting with her some, but he hadn’t dared gotten too close to her, shying away from her because her father was a cop, and he knew if he’d gone near her, with his record, her dad would’ve thrown a fit.

  Except for that one night. Being the coward that he was, he’d had to get drunk before he could tell her how he really felt, and what had she done when he had? She’d run away. He’d felt like total shit afterward knowing that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. She’d run off without her glasses, so he’d put them in her locker Monday morning, afraid to face her again, and when he’d finally gotten the courage to apologize to her for what he’d done, he found that she was gone. One of his friends told him that her father had been killed and she’d moved away. And that’d been the end of things.

  Oh, he’d hunted her down several years ago, the perks of working for a security/investigatory company making it a cinch, and after finding her he’d wanted to approach her, maybe ask her out, even though he’d found out that she’d had a boyfriend. He didn’t know how serious they’d been, figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, but then the more he thought about it the more he remembered she’d rejected him once and he really hadn’t wanted to relive that humiliating experience again. But now here she was, in his arms and hugging him back. Damn.

  She pulled away but slid her hands to hold his forearms as she looked up at him, the smile on her face still huge. “I thought it was you. Wow. It’s been, what, ten years? How are you?”

  He grinned down at her, keeping his hands on her tiny waist, loving that she was touching him still. “I’m good. Yeah, ten years. How have you been?”

  She stared up at him, taking him in, and he couldn’t say that he hated it.

  “I just can’t believe it’s you,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Why?”

  “Well, you’re, uh, a grown man.”

  He chuckled with her. “And you’re a grown woman.” And damn. When he put it that way, it made parts of him come to life, very aware that there was a beautiful woman standing in front of him.

  She reached a hand up and cupped his face. “This is just so strange. I remember you as a hot seventeen-year-old boy. And now you’re, well, you’re even hotter.” A sound of protest came out of her throat as she jerked her hand off his face and moved away from him, her face turning a brilliant red with embarrassme
nt at what she’d said, all of which made him laugh.

  He stepped toward her making up the space she’d put between them, taking her face in both his hands. “And you’re gorgeous, Tilly, completely stunning.” She turned an even deeper red as she nervously extracted herself from his hands, stepping even farther away this time.

  As he stood looking at her, all kinds of thoughts went through his head. He wanted to ask her out. Wanted to get to know her. Wanted… more.

  Then another thought hit him. A not so good one. Was she married? Did she still have a boyfriend?

  “Fuck,” he muttered, a scowl covering his face.

  “What?” he heard her ask, which brought him out of his distracting thoughts.

  “Huh? Oh, nothing. Hey, uh, if you’re not doing anything tonight, would you like to go to dinner?” Might as well jump in and find out now.

  He took it the troubled look on her face wasn’t a good sign.

  When she made to turn away from him, he put a hand on her shoulder, turning her back to face him. “Wait, Tilly. Do you have a boyfriend? Husband? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so forward.”

  She hesitated before she spoke, biting her bottom lip as if in indecision. “No, I’m not married and I just broke up with my boyfriend.” She hurried to add, “But we weren’t really serious, and things hadn’t been good between us for quite some time.”

  Okay. He could work with that. So what was her deal then?

  She took a deep breath and let it out then looked up at him sheepishly. “I don’t really date, John.”

  She was scared. That was it. Okay. He’d take care of that. “Take it however you want it, but who said it was a date?” he said with a smirk.

  She looked at him in surprise. “I-it’s not?”

  He grinned. “Maybe I just want to catch up on old times and see what you’ve been doing since. So, once again, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

  The relief was clear on her face as she smiled up at him but it’d been accompanied with what he thought had been a flash of disappointment which gave him a ray of hope. “Um, okay.”

  He didn’t know what was going on with her, but he planned to break through whatever walls she had up and find out. He knew he’d have to handle things carefully if he wanted to get anywhere with her. But he also knew she’d be well worth it. He hadn’t kept her in his thoughts for the past ten years just to screw this up.

  ***

  Holy shit! Tilly was in disbelief that John Osby was in her house and he’d just asked her out. Well, not really “out, out” but they were going to dinner, and that was something. She was mad at herself for panicking when he’d asked, but she had her rules. This was a man she knew could really hurt her if she let him, and no way was she going to let him.

  “So you live here in Brooklyn?” she asked.

  “Yeah. You don’t mind if I keep working while we talk, yeah? I mean, I wanna have time to get home and shower before our... dinner tonight.” He grinned at her with straight, white teeth, his amber eyes dancing in humor at his sticking to the “not a date” sobriquet. His teasing was not lost on her which made her shiver while his voice, all deep and rumbly, gave her chill bumps. Gah!

  “Oh, no! You go right ahead. I wanna get this finished so I can stay here tonight,” she said, choosing to ignore his sexy grin before she turned into a puddle of mush before him.

  He stopped what he was doing and looked at her asking, “What exactly happened, Tilly?”

  She sighed. It was getting a little later in the day, and she knew that when the sun set along with it would come feelings of wariness. Yeah, she’d felt braver that morning but the darkness always makes things worse, doesn’t it. Exactly what she’d been telling Jeff that morning. “Someone broke in last night, but I’m sure my brother told you that already. I’d taken a muscle relaxer before going to bed, which made me sleepy. Anyway, I’d just laid down and had drifted off when I felt someone in my room. I turned over assuming it was Jeff and asked what he was doing back. The guy even talked to me, acting like he was Jeff, telling me he’d forgotten his coat.” She shuddered for a different reason now, wrapping her arms across her chest.

  Oz had completely stopped working to listen to what she was saying, giving her all of his attention. She’d always loved that about him, the way he’d made her feel as if she was the only person alive when they used to talk in high school and he was doing that very thing now.

  “Damn,” he said.

  “I realized yesterday morning two of my cameras had been taken,” she said quietly, looking worried. Then her face brightened. “Oh! You did know I have my own photography studio now, didn’t you?” She saw him grin and look down at the floor, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. “What?” she asked with a scowl. Did he think her owning a studio was stupid?

  “You. God, you’re cute.” He shook his head as he gave her a crooked grin.

  And that was all the explanation he offered.

  She stood there waiting for him to give her more details about the semi non sequitur she’d just used, but when he didn’t, she snapped, “Care to elaborate?” putting her hands on her hips, getting a little pissed at thinking he didn’t believe she was capable of operating a studio out of her house.

  “You go from being upset, telling me about some asshole breaking into your house to being suddenly happy as hell, telling me about your studio.”

  He was still grinning at her and she couldn’t help but think again how sexy that grin was, but not knowing how to respond to what he’d said, she kept quiet, nervously adjusting the glasses on top of her head.

  “See? Cute.”

  She drew in a breath at the way he was looking at her. Wow. John Osby was freaking sex on a freaking stick! God help her. Annnd she needed to get out of there. Now.

  “I, uh, need to, uh, go back to my studio if we’re going out tonight. I mean, not on a date or anything, just dinner. I’ll be back there if you need anything.” She pointed over her shoulder and seeing that damned sexy half smirk of his appear again, backed away needing to get the heck out of there. Turning to go to her studio, she bumped into something then rolled her eyes at how nervous he’d made her. Once inside her atelier, she closed the door leaning against it and allowed herself to breathe again. “My lord.”

  Well, this was going to be tricky. How was she supposed to protect her heart when it was about to jump out of her chest and telling her that she needed to make that man hers.

  Wow. John Osby was in her living room. How crazy was that?

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Quinn. When she answered, Tilly whisper-hissed, “You will not believe who’s in my living room!”

  “Scott Pilgrim?”

  “No! John Osby!” When Quinn stayed silent for several seconds, Tilly explained, “My high school crush!”

  “Bad boy who delivered The Kiss?” Quinn yelled.

  Tilly jerked her phone away from her ear quickly before Quinn’s screaming broke her eardrum. Bringing it back to her ear, she confirmed, “Yes, him! Oh, my God, Quinn! And he asked me to dinner!”

  “This is it, Till! Remember what I said at dinner the other night? This is our year to find a man! See? It’s the luck o’ the Irish, I tell ye,” Quinn stated using a horrible Irish brogue.

  “Uh, yeah. Well, this isn’t a date. It’s just a catching up kinda thing.”

  “Well, you can catch up with his dick inside you, you know,” Quinn said, blunt as ever.

  “Quinn!” she scolded. God, her friend had no filter whatsoever. “We’re not going there. We haven’t even seen each other in ten years.” She stopped for a second then it was her turn to yell. “Oh, God! I didn’t even think to ask if he had a girlfriend or if he’s married.” She put her palm to her forehead as she let out a groan. Of course, that was it. That’s why he’d explained that their dinner wasn’t a date. He had to be in a relationship. How could someone who looked that good not be?

  “If that’s the case, so
be it. At least you’ll have some good company over a good meal, right?”

  “Yeah. Not like I’m looking for anything with him anyway,” Tilly answered. She heard Quinn sigh and knew what was coming. She could almost mouth the words with her best friend as she spoke them.

  “Why won’t you let yourself be happy? You stayed with that stupid prick of a bastard for two years. Two years. Finally got smart and got rid of his dumb ass, and now a gorgeous guy wants to take you to dinner, which could lead to his dick inside you, and you’re not gonna let that happen. Wait. He is gorgeous, isn’t he?”

  It was Tilly’s turn to sigh. “Yes, most definitely gorgeous. He’s as tall as he was in high school, but he’s filled out a lot. He’s got muscles everywhere. Like muscles on top of muscles. He stayed here until Jeff could come by before he left to get some more parts or something, not wanting to leave me alone. And, Quinn? He’s got a goatee.”

  Tilly had to pull the phone away from her ear again when Quinn screamed. She knew her best friend had some kind of facial hair fetish, which she’d always thought was strange, but whatever. And even though Tilly didn’t prefer facial hair, she kinda loved John’s goatee on him.

  “Total package, Till. And he protected you. Nice. What company did you say he’s out of?”

  “Citadel something or other.”

  “Oh, my gosh! Jodi used that place one time when she was in town on a modeling gig. Said the guys there were hot! I’ve been thinking of a reason I’d need a bodyguard so I could hire one.” Quinn cackled at herself.

  Tilly snorted. Her best friend was crazy.

  “So here’s my advice, my dear, lovely friend. Please, please, open yourself up to the idea of a relationship,” Quinn said. “I know you’re rolling your eyes right now, so stop.”

  Tilly laughed. Busted.

  Quinn continued. “I’m not saying you have to have anything serious with the guy… right away. Stop rolling your eyes!”

  How Quinn knew she’d done it again was beyond her, but she guessed that they’d been friends for so long and knew each other so well, it was bound to happen that they’d know these kinds of things. “It’s official. We’ve become an old married couple, Quinn.”