by Meghan March
I bite down on my lip, but the wine has loosened my tongue. “I can’t. It’s against the rules. You don’t talk about it.”
The blonde, Vanessa, reaches for the wine. “Wait, so it’s like fight club?”
“No, it’s . . . probably way more dangerous than fight club.”
“So, who’d you bang? How many?” This question comes from Yve.
“Just one guy. I don’t know his name.”
“You whore. I think I love you,” Vanessa says and turns to Valentina. “She’s in the girl gang, by the way. We needed an actual rule-breaker instead of a pretend rule-breaker like you. Who knows when we might need to commit a felony and not get caught. But I vote that Temperance doesn’t talk to the cops. You get to do that.”
The women all nod, and a wave of acceptance engulfs me, but I know I shouldn’t get used to it.
“He was at the auction,” I tell Valentina. “That was the only time I ever saw him outside the club.”
Her eyes sparkle with interest. “What did he look like?”
“Besides gorgeous in a suit? Dark hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders.”
“The asshole who outbid me on your piece? Are you joking?”
My mouth drops open this time. “What? He did not.”
She nods. “Dark gray pinstripe three-piece suit. Light blue shirt that made his eyes pop. Uh, yeah. That was him. I contemplated sketching him for Rix so I could track him down to buy it from him.”
The knowledge sends me reeling. My stranger bought my artwork?
“That’s . . . no way.”
“Yes. I swear.”
“Then I have his company name somewhere. I wonder . . .”
Ariel pipes up. “If you have the company name, I can track him down in less than five minutes.”
“Ari, I’m pretty sure Rhett told you no more hacking.” This comes from Valentina.
“This is barely hacking. It’s for the sisterhood. Shouldn’t she at least know the name of the guy she fucked? I mean . . . what if she got pregnant or something. It’s practically required.”
“I’m definitely not pregnant.” I look down at my wineglass. “I don’t think. I hope. No, definitely not.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Ariel says. I can practically see her fingers twitching, like she wants a keyboard in front of her. “So, what’s the company name?”
My mind goes blank as I try to remember it, but all I can picture is his glacier-blue eyes. “I don’t remember.”
“Get it for me tomorrow and I’ll go digging.” She glances at Valentina. “This one doesn’t like it when I bring my computer, so I left it at home.”
“Do you have any idea how much trouble we could get in if you brought it with? I am married to a cop.”
That’s when I decide girls’ night is basically the best invention ever. Right behind multiple orgasms. And men with no names who won’t be able to hide for long.
Chapter 25
Temperance
“Thanks for the ride.”
“You sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Rix sounds a little concerned when he watches from the driver’s side of his Suburban as I lean on the gate.
“I’m fine. I promise.”
“I’ll wait until I see the light come on inside.”
The man is quite the gentleman, and I’m still marveling at the insane coincidence that Valentina has not one, but two friends who have lived in the apartment that I rent from Harriet. Neither of them were able to make it to girls’ night, but she promised me they’d be at the next one.
The next one.
I made friends. And it felt really good.
Buzzing from the wine and the feeling of acceptance, I unlock the gate and close it behind me before waving at Rix and heading down the path to the courtyard. As I climb the stairs, I hang on to the railing for dear life so I don’t fall to my death.
I’m not ready to die. I’ve got another girls’ night to go to and a man to track down.
A voice comes out of the shadows when I hit the top, practically sending me into cardiac arrest.
“You hanging with cops now, Tempe?”
“Oh my God!” I screech before I realize it’s Elijah.
“Jesus Christ, woman.”
“You scared the hell out of me!”
“And here I thought you’d be happy to find out that I got a line on your Bronco.”
Excitement flares inside me. “Really?”
“Temperance? You okay? Thought I heard you yell.” It’s Rix’s voice coming through the bars of my gate by the sidewalk.
“That the cop?” Elijah says, keeping his voice low.
“I’m fine,” I call out to Rix. “Saw a rat the size of a cat. I’m heading in now. Thanks!”
I shove my hand into my purse and find my keys. Elijah takes them from my hand when I fail to get the key into the lock on my second try.
“You’re sauced.”
“It’s none of your damn business what I am,” I tell him when I flip on the light.
“It is if you’re going to puke in my car when we go for a ride.”
I turn and look at him. “Where?”
“You want your Bronco back or not?”
“That’s a stupid question.”
“Then we wait for the cop to leave, and we’re out of here.”
I narrow my gaze on him, but there are still two Elijahs in my apartment. “Are you lying to me? Is this some kind of trick?”
“You called me for help. Remember?”
My fuzzy brain attempts to remember what I did five minutes ago, and beyond that is nearly impossible.
“Hold on.” I stumble to the living area and plop ungracefully onto the small settee.
“You’re gonna puke.”
“Shut up. I’m not seventeen anymore and running from the cops. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Elijah leans against the countertop, staring at me. “You did help me chop a car last week . . .”
“Shut up.”
“You always were—”
Whatever Elijah is saying fades away as my lids droop and my body grows heavy.
“Dammit, Tempe.”
Chapter 26
Temperance
My eyelids flutter like butterflies weighted down with lead balloons, and I raise my arms to stretch. In the process, my hand smacks into something warm.
“Damn, girl.”
My eyes pop open as I turn my head, staring in shock at the form next to me in bed. Elijah covers his nose, which apparently I just punched.
“Oh my God. What the hell?” I scramble up to a seated position, and as the sheet falls to reveal everything, I screech again. “What did you do, Elijah Joseph Devereux? If you touched me, I’m going to kill you!”
His sleep-rumpled hair flops over his forehead, and his lips curl into a lopsided grin as I grab the sheet and yank it up over my chest.
“Well, last night—” he says.
My hand shoots out to hover over the nightstand. “I’ll have my finger on a trigger in less than three seconds, so you might want to think real carefully about what you’re going to say.”
His grin, shockingly, widens. “You’re always so damn sexy when you’re threatening to shoot me. Goddamn, you’re beautiful, Tempe. It’s like a punch to the gut seeing you like this again.” His gaze starts at my messy bedhead and drags down my face to where my hand clutches the sheet to my nakedness. “I miss you. A hell of a lot.”
Even though the words wrap around me like a warm blanket, I’m not the girl Elijah misses. I haven’t been her in a long time.
When I don’t reply, he leans closer, the sheet pooling around his lap. Jesus Christ, tell me he isn’t naked.
“I didn’t touch you, but damn, did I want to.” His bare chest rises and falls, and he sounds sincerer than I think he ever has. “I want to so fucking bad.”
He ducks his head like he’s coming in for a kiss, and the split-second decision faces me. Go back or go forward.
<
br /> I may not have a clue what’s in my future, because apparently my mystery man isn’t going to be part of it, but I know Elijah’s in my past.
“Put some clothes on, Eli.” I yank the sheet, wrapping it around myself, and scramble out of the bed.
He reclines, completely uncaring that I just yanked the sheet off him and he’s sporting morning wood in the morning light. “You sure you want to do that?”
Elijah is nothing if not cocky.
I turn away. “Clothes, Eli. And feel lucky I didn’t shoot you for stripping me naked while I was unconscious.”
He sighs. “So, it’s like that? Not even a thank-you?”
I head for the bathroom and shoot him a glare over my bare shoulder. “It’s been like that since you decided to show Lindsey Jo the backseat of your truck when I was seventeen and dumb enough to think about giving up all my plans for you.”
Elijah pops up, his shoulders squared, and I keep my attention on his face.
“And you think that was an accident, Temperance? You think I didn’t know exactly what I was doing?”
“What do you mean?” My fingers grip the sheet tightly enough to tear holes through it.
His eyes narrow. “If I left the choice on the table, me or college, we both know you would’ve tried to do both. And then when shit got too hard, you would’ve dropped out. You think I wanted to be responsible for that? For you letting go of your dream, and watching the resentment build every time you had to pull a double shift at Rickety to help make ends meet? I didn’t want that for you.”
My mouth drops open. “You did it . . . on purpose?”
Elijah’s sharp nod tears off a web of lies covering my past to reveal the truth. “Sure as fuck did. Could barely get my dick hard knowing that as soon as I touched her, I was giving up the best thing that could ever happen to me. Because I wanted better for you.” His gaze drops to the bed. “Still want better for you.”
The swirl of intense emotions threatens to spill tears down my face. I turn, unable to face him, and rush into the small bathroom. With my palm on the door, I shut it soundlessly and collapse onto the edge of the old claw-foot tub.
For years, I’ve held a grudge against Elijah for taking my virginity and then cheating on me only weeks later. His actions were what finally made me decide to cut ties with the bayou and run as far and fast as I could in the opposite direction, working my ass off to make sure I never had to go back.
And I never knew the truth of why he did it.
My throat burns with the punch of reality.
I’ve hated him for years when he didn’t deserve it. Elijah was a realist. He knew I wasn’t a quitter. I wouldn’t have quit on him . . . but I might have quit on school if it came down to it. He gutted me, but he did it so I could have the future I desperately wanted.
He’s the noble one, and I’m the harpy.
I take several deep breaths, and when my knees no longer feel so shaky, I rise and face the mirror.
My decision from moments ago—go forward and not back—seems more callous now than it did. Nothing is black and white, and apparently nothing is what it seems on the surface. Elijah isn’t the cheating asshole I thought he was, all about bagging as many chicks as possible instead of committing to me.
Even this rush of emotion doesn’t change the fact that what I felt for him is in the past. But at least I can look back at our past without bitterness and anger now.
He’s not for me, but I do owe him an apology, and maybe a thank-you.
I splash cold water on my face, wipe the raccoon circles from under my eyes, and attempt to tame my hair into a ponytail before slipping on the robe I keep on the back of the door.
When I head back into the bedroom, Elijah has his back to me as he pulls a Devereux Recycling T-shirt over his head. The taut muscles of his back show scars that weren’t there before. Scars I recognize from helping patch Rafe up a few times.
Bullet wounds.
I don’t even want to know how he got them, but it’s another reminder that going back to the life I left in the bayou means stepping onto the wrong side of the law.
I don’t do that anymore.
I’m a successful upstanding citizen.
Granted, my boss is married to the scariest criminal in the city, but I decide that’s not really a relevant factoid.
Because nothing’s black and white.
Elijah breaks the silence before I do. “I just texted my guy, and your Bronco hasn’t moved. They’ve kept hands off and haven’t chopped it. He also said they don’t like having anything sitting intact too long, so we gotta move if we want to get there before they lose patience and it’s gone.”
“Thank you.”
He nods. “No problem.”
“Not for that.” I shake my head and swallow. “For the other. Everything else. What you did. You—”
“You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do anything but show you I wasn’t a good bet. That’s the truth.”
“You believed in me. In my dreams. Didn’t run me down for wanting more than the bayou and that little life. You didn’t question me or make me explain myself. You just . . . let me be, and then you let me go.” My words are rough by the end of my speech.
Elijah drops his gaze to the floor for a beat before meeting mine. “We all want more, Tempe, but you were the only one who had the drive to actually get there. Proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
He gives me a nod. “Now, you ready to get your Bronco back?”
“Yeah. I am.”
He heads for the door. “I’ll meet you out front in my ride.”
Before I can respond, he snags his boots and walks out the door.
I’m out front in less than five minutes and find Elijah double-parked in his old Ford truck. The same truck he . . . I don’t finish my thought.
I reach for the old silver handle, tug it open, and climb inside. “Figured you would’ve scrapped this thing by now.”
“Nah, this truck’s vintage. Worth a hell of a lot more whole. But I’ll never sell it. At least, not unless shit gets real bad.”
As the old truck rolls forward, I ask, “Where we headed?”
“Other side of town. Somewhere you’re going to pretend you’ve never seen and will definitely never talk about ever again.” He gives me a sidelong glance at the stop sign. “You catch my drift.”
“So I’m the blind, deaf, and dumb girl this morning.” I look out the window, taking in the sole man in a suit on his way to work way too early on this Saturday morning. “Got it.”
“You know how it goes. It ain’t your Bronco. It’s one I’ve been looking for to build out for a friend.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, still avoiding looking at Elijah, and that’s when I see him. I stiffen in my seat, my shoulders going poker straight as I take in the man sitting at a café table with a coffee in front of him.
I blink to make sure I’m not crazy, but . . . it’s him. My stranger from the club.
Except instead of wearing a suit, he’s dressed in a T-shirt and jeans and has a Voodoo Kings hat on his head, shading his eyes—eyes that are looking directly at me.
There’s no tint on the windows of Elijah’s truck, so there’s absolutely nothing to hide that I’m staring at him. Recognition is stamped on his features.
The man in a suit slows as he approaches the café. He pulls a thick newspaper folded in half out from under his arm and drops it on the table in front of my stranger as he walks by, not even missing a beat.
My stranger never looks at the man. Never looks at the newspaper. He’s completely focused on me.
Elijah is talking, but his words sound like they’re coming from underwater because my head is churning with what I just saw.
Was that a drop?
Who is he?
We pass the café and my stranger’s stare burns into me. As though compelled, my head turns to hold his gaze as Elijah’s truck continues forward.
“Tempe. Temperance?”
I jerk my attention back to Elijah. “What?”
“You just went catatonic. What the fuck’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I just . . . thought I saw someone I knew.”
He glances in the rearview. “Guys in suits are your type now, I guess. Who would’ve guessed?”
My curiosity piqued, I spin around and look out the back window to see the man in the suit staring after the truck, even as he walks around the corner.
I don’t recognize him at all, but he looks like he’s seen me.
A chill washes over me. What the hell is going on?
“I was wrong. Never seen him in my life,” I say, turning around and directing my attention forward.
“Probably a good thing. Pretty sure that guy works for your boss’s husband.”
My gaze cuts to Elijah. “What? Which guy?”
“The guy in the suit.” Elijah shrugs. “I could be wrong. Might be a different guy. Guess that means you’re safe from all that shit-by-association, so it doesn’t really matter to you.”
Even though my mind is racing, trying to figure out what kind of connection my stranger could possibly have to Lachlan Mount, king of the criminal underworld, I still manage to mumble out a reply. “I stay as far out of it as I can. As in, it doesn’t exist for me.”
“I wondered why you didn’t call him and called me instead.”
It’s a valid question. “Rafe didn’t answer. You were my next thought. It’s not like I want to drag my problems to my boss’s doorstep when she’s just left on vacation.”
Elijah turns to look at me before he pulls onto a busier street. “Rafe didn’t answer you either? I thought it was just me he wasn’t taking calls from right now.”
For the second time in a few minutes, chills rack my body. “How many times have you tried to call him?”
“Enough to know that he’s really fucking radio silent this time. I figured he’d always answer your calls, no matter what.”
Concern for whatever my brother has gotten himself into floods my belly. “I always thought he would too.”
