by K. A. Linde
Austin just nodded. “Text if you need an out. We’ll be happy to make a scene.”
“Thanks,” I said with a genuine smile.
Miranda had put me on edge. I hated that I’d gotten into an argument with my brother and his best friend. I’d just lost my shit. The idea of someone else getting near Heidi while I was trying to eliminate my baggage had made me see red. I wouldn’t let that happen.
With a heavy sigh, I sank into the driver’s seat of the Mercedes and sent Miranda a text.
I’ll do dinner if you agree to sign the paperwork.
See you at seven at West Table, darling. Wear my favorite suit.
Twenty-Four
Landon
I showed up right on time. Not a second before or after seven. I wanted to keep my time with her to a minimum. I was already dreading this whole fucking thing. Not to mention, the last time I had been at West Table, I’d been hitting on Heidi while she was with someone else. Now, here I was, with Miranda.
And, of course, she showed up a full ten minutes late. I cringed at the fact that I had walked right into her setup. She had the upper hand already because she had kept me waiting. And I’d stayed.
Like a fucking idiot.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, not rushing in the slightest as she catwalked up to the table I’d reserved for us.
She’d changed out of her red dress for a black number that I’d never seen before and hoped to God never to see again. It was…slinky. Clearly meant to be seductive. And covered very little.
“I was about to leave,” I said as way of a greeting.
She shot me a smooth smile. “No, you weren’t.”
I ground my teeth together. She sank down into her seat, which was a blessing since I could now only see her top half. The other problem was, now, I could see her top half.
“You wore the suit,” she said with a big grin.
I looked down at the charcoal suit I had picked out with disdain. I’d probably never wear it again.
“Did you bring the paperwork? Are you going to sign now?”
“Didn’t you get a good look at me? Where would I hide divorce papers? Feel free to try to find them though.” She winked at me.
“I’ll pass.”
“Shame.” Miranda flipped her blonde bob and reached for the wine menu. “I’ll sign when I get home. No rush.”
“So, none of this is necessary?” I glared at her and started to stand up.
“Sit down, Landon. Have some wine with me. Relax. I’ll sign your precious papers. Just…” Her soulful eyes looked up into mine. “Just…let it be like old times for one night.”
I didn’t relax. I just stared back at her blankly. She ignored my expression and ordered a vintage bottle of her favorite French wine. She was through a glass of wine by the time we ordered our food. I had a glass in front of me, but I’d only had a sip. What I really wanted was some of Austin’s whiskey. I should have stolen his flask to get through this evening.
“So,” Miranda said once the waiter disappeared with our orders. She twirled the stem of her wine glass around in her hand and smiled at me.
“So?”
“I’m ready to get pregnant now.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. Of all the things I had thought she would say, that hadn’t been one of them. “You what?”
“Pregnant, silly. I think we should try again.”
I shook my head and blinked rapidly. “Um…no.”
“Well, that’s why you’re divorcing me, right? Because I lost the first one and then jokingly said that I didn’t want any kids.”
“That’s not—”
“God, I get it, Landon,” she said. “I mean, I understand where you’re coming from. You want a big family. You come from a big family. I didn’t think it was that serious. I didn’t think you’d want to walk away just because I was scared.”
“That is not what I’m doing.”
Her eyes were bright. “Then, let’s figure this out. I know I’ve been moody the last year. I know I haven’t been my best me with you, but that doesn’t mean we give up. We can try harder. We can try for another baby. Just…don’t leave me.”
“Miranda, you cannot do this right now.”
“Do what?” she asked. “Try to save our marriage?”
“Our marriage is in the process of being dissolved. I’m here so that you’ll make it official,” I told her as calmly as I could. “The last thing I want is have a baby with you.”
“That isn’t what you said a couple months ago! You were yelling at me because of some throw away statement I made.”
“Throw away…” I closed my eyes and breathed calmly through my nose. “It’s more than one statement. This is bigger than that. But I am not changing my mind.”
“Is it Emery?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that Emery is with Jensen, and I have no feelings for her?”
“Another time I guess because I don’t believe it. It’s something else.”
“I can’t believe I even have to say this because you already know why I’m divorcing you. But do I need to tell you again?”
Miranda downed the rest of her glass of wine. Clearly, this wasn’t going as she’d planned. “Fine. Tell me again. Because I think you’re making a huge mistake.”
“I’m divorcing you because what we have is broken,” I told her, clasping my hands together in front of me. “We are two different people, and it has taken me years to realize that.”
“This is insane, Landon. I’ve given you everything. I moved to Tampa for you where I knew absolutely no one. I quit my job for you so that I could support you while you golfed. I gave up holidays with my family in Augusta to be here in this desert wasteland with your family who hates me. I’ve dealt with golf fans and cling-ons and all of that bullshit. You think I ruined your life, Landon? Look a little closer.”
I almost laughed, except she really believed what she said. She was utterly delusional, and there was nothing I could say that would change her mind. She would never see that she had done all those things of her own free will to get access to my money. That she had been one of those golf fans and cling-ons, and I hadn’t realized it at the time. That her quitting her job was because she hadn’t wanted to work while I was on Tour…so she could go to all the lavish parties and act like a celebrity.
No matter what I said at this point, it wouldn’t make a difference. It only proved my point.
“The answer is no,” I told her as our food appeared.
“No to what?” she spat, shoving her salad away from her.
“Everything. We’re here for you to sign the paperwork. That’s it.”
“You’re not even going to consider?”
“I don’t have to. This is over, Miranda.”
“Then, I change my terms,” she said at once.
Oh, Plan B. This should be good.
“You can’t change the terms. You said dinner. That’s it.”
“Well, if you really think that we’re never getting back together, then this won’t even matter.”
I cocked my head to the side. I really didn’t even want to know. “No.”
“One more thing, and then I’m out of your life forever…just like you want.”
“What? What thing?”
She smiled and leaned forward, exposing more of her cleavage. “Make love to me one more time.”
I gaped at her and then burst into laughter. I couldn’t help myself. It was so…outrageous. Of course she wanted to fuck again. Probably somewhere in her sick, demented head, she thought that, by having sex once more, I would magically change my mind. That I’d realize she was still the perfect woman for me, and we’d end up together.
Or worse, she’d try to get pregnant and get me on the hook forever.
I shook my head in disgust and pulled out my wallet. I threw a hundred dollars down for the meal and tossed another hundred at her. “For the good time I’ll be missing.”
She gaped at me. “Landon!”
“The answer is no,” I said as I stood. “Actually, the answer is fuck no. I’d rather see you in court than sit here another minute.”
“Landon, wait!”
As I exited the restaurant, I chuckled at myself for how stupid I’d been for coming. Everyone was right. She wasn’t going to sign the papers just because I had gone to dinner with her. It had been worth a try but worth nothing more than that.
I tried Heidi’s number when I got back to the car, but she didn’t answer. I revved the Mercedes and peeled out of the parking lot, on my way to her apartment. I didn’t care if Emery was there. I needed to see Heidi. I needed to get the slime of that dinner off my body. It was a mistake to go, and while I had known that deep down, I had wanted it all to be over so fucking bad.
And fuck Miranda and her fucking stipulations. She didn’t get to put stipulations on this divorce. She’d had plenty of time to fix our marriage. It had been falling apart for a year. I’d defended her to everyone, and then I’d just realized they were all right.
I was almost to Heidi’s apartment when I got a text from her.
Flips.
I cursed and pulled a U-turn, on my way to the bar she adored. Considering her history with her father, you’d think she wouldn’t love bars as much as she did. But I knew they still held happy memories for her. Maybe that was what she always clung to when she came to Flips to hustle pool from unsuspecting victims. It probably helped her forget her dad as much as it brought positive memories. For someone who’d had a pretty rough life, she was unbelievably buoyant. I admired her for that. For pushing through all the bullshit and coming out ahead. And, one day…I’d get her to talk about it all.
I parked out front of the bar and killed the engine. The place was surprisingly busy for a Monday night, but it always had its regulars.
My regular was standing in low-slung jean shorts and a black tank top that said Hank’s in distressed white letters. She had a pool stick behind her neck, and she was holding on to it with both hands. The guy standing next to her was looking at her as if she were his next meal, but she just urged him to take his shot. When he missed, her laugh rang through the bar, and she stumbled forward, dropping the pool stick to her side.
She was drunk.
My face fell as I approached her.
I could see it in her languid body movements and the tilt of her shoulders as she stepped up to the table. She bent over to aim for her shot, and half of her ass cheeks hung out the back of her shorts. It was hot as fuck. But it wasn’t on display for me. It was on display for every fucking dick in this place.
And, suddenly, I was furious.
Not with Heidi. With myself.
I had been out at some shit dinner with my horrible soon-to-be ex-wife. I had made Heidi come here where she needed to play pool and get sloppy drunk to forget. I had done this.
And, now, everyone in the room was getting a full view of her ass because of my goddamn mistake.
No fucking way.
My appearance was noticed before I made it all the way up to her.
“Hey, man,” the guy she was playing said to me. “What’s up?”
I ignored him as Heidi’s eyes locked on to mine.
“Landon!”
“Time to go.”
“No way! I have, like…a whole beer here, and I’m totally slaying Tommy over here.”
I arched an eyebrow at her.
She rolled her eyes back at me. “You were busy.”
“I’m not busy anymore,” I said, my voice low and uncompromising.
“I’ll just finish this game.”
“No.”
“Hey, pal, why don’t you let the lady do what she wants?” Tommy said.
“Why don’t you find another half-naked drunk girl to hit on?” I spat back at him. “I’m going to be here, taking care of this one.”
Heidi walked up to me and poked me in the chest. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”
I stepped up to meet her. “You’re right. You don’t need to be taken care of, but I am going to take care of you anyway. You can’t convince me otherwise. And, right now, I would like to put some clothes on you and get you away from every guy in this place who wants to whip his dick out right now.”
“Oh, you want to put clothes on me?” she said with another eye roll. “That’s new.”
I shrugged out of my suit coat and slung it around her shoulders.
She protested, “I’m fine!”
“We should get you home.”
“Ugh, why?”
“You have work in the morning. You’re drunk. You need to talk to me, and this isn’t helping as much as you want to believe.”
Her eyes glazed over, and she quickly glanced away from me. She was hurt. I knew that. I could see that.
“I’m staying here,” she said halfheartedly.
“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of this bar.”
“You wouldn’t,” she spat. “Your back.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Watch me.”
She bit her lip, as if she had more concern for my injury than she had for trying to talk to me. I appreciated the sentiment because throwing her over my shoulder would probably be a really dumb move. But I’d do it anyway.
“Fine,” she said, throwing her pool stick onto the table and storming out before me.
I sighed heavily and followed after her. “Heidi,” I called when we made it outside. “Hey, are you okay?”
She whirled around on me. “You know, I made out with that guy Tommy on New Year’s.”
I clenched my jaw. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. He’s, like, a totally normal guy. We hit it off real fine. And when you left me there all alone, I went and found someone else. I made out with him because you weren’t there. You were married. You couldn’t be with me. And I wanted to forget you.”
“You can’t forget me, Heidi. No matter how far you try to push me away or come up with reasons that we can’t be together, we will always end up right here.” I pointed at the pavement between us. “Because I am yours, and you are mine. And we are not just a finite point on a line; we are limitless.”
Twenty-Five
Heidi
“Jesus, Landon,” I whispered, crumbling at his words.
I had been so busy being drunk and frustrated and freaking jealous that I wasn’t able to see past my own ego. I didn’t know what had happened at that dinner with Miranda. I only had worst-case scenarios running through my head even though I’d told him to go. Or maybe because I’d told him to go.
When I wanted to tell him to stay.
Stay.
Just stay with me.
Don’t give in to her.
Don’t listen to her.
Please, God, don’t fuck this up.
Landon bridged the short distance between us and placed a soft kiss on my lips. The fire extinguished out of me in a rush. I melted into him, throwing my arms around his neck.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I whispered.
“Me, too, firecracker. Me, too.”
I laughed. That goddamn nickname.
“Can we get you home now?” he asked, pointing toward the Mercedes.
“What about my car?”
“We’ll get it in the morning.”
I nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. Okay.”
We piled into the car, and he drove me back to my apartment in silence. I had a million questions buzzing around my head, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask them. My brain was fuzzy, and I knew that I’d had too much to drink. Like, if I could tell that I was pretty drunk, that was a bad sign. I was one of those people who would constantly claim, I’m not drunk, when I clearly was.
But Peter knew what week it was. So, I wasn’t surprised that he never cut me off tonight.
Landon helped me stumble up to my apartment, and I was happy to see that Emery wasn’t there. She slept over at Jensen’s all the time anyway. And I did not want to have that awk
ward moment with her and Landon. It would have to happen one day. Preferably not while I was wasted.
“Which way?” Landon asked as he shut the door behind us.
I was suddenly self-conscious of the fact that Landon was here, in my apartment. I’d been to his, but he’d never been here.
“Uh…that room.” I pointed out my bedroom.
He put his hand on the small of my back as we walked across the elaborately decorated living room and into my bedroom. It was pretty big for the size of the apartment. I liked that I could have a massive king-size bed, and it didn’t fill up the entire room. That had been the selling point…along with the walk-in closet and stand-up shower.
“Fuck,” I said as I nearly ran into my four-poster bed. My head was spinning. “How much did I drink tonight?”
“I’m going to go with a lot. You were this drunk that night we played pool with Em last Christmas.”
“No way,” I slurred. “Em was way drunker than me that night.”
“Yes. But you were wasted, too.”
“And you wouldn’t even help me inside.”
“Yes, well,” he said, glancing away from me.
“What?”
I leaned against a post of my bed and stared at him. His eyes met mine, full of desire, and suddenly, I was so fucking turned on. One look, and I was a goner.
“I didn’t trust myself to come inside,” he admitted.
“Oh? Why not?” I asked with a grin.
“Because I wanted more than I was allowed to have that night, and you would have given me what I wanted.”
“I would have,” I agreed softly.
I’d wanted him so bad. He’d driven me home from Flips that night because I was drunk, and all I’d wanted to do was kiss him. I was sure that I had been blatantly telegraphing that. He’d read it all over my expression. And, instead of coming inside where he surely would have cheated on his wife, he’d left.
Part of me had been frustrated because of the connection that was clearly there, but part of me, the sober part of me, appreciated that he’d left. He could have been the dick who cheated to get out of his marriage, but he wasn’t that guy. He hadn’t been that guy on New Year’s either. He’d stopped talking to me. Even though I’d hated it. And then he’d waited until it was the right time for us.
