by Jenni Moen
He paced in front of me. "No. I haven't had a girlfriend since my wife. The only woman who even came close is seeing someone else now. And I don’t think she could afford this anymore than I could." He scrubbed his hand down his face. "Maybe it has something to do with a case I worked on in Chicago. I don't know.”
He stopped pacing and stared at me. His blue eyes burned with intensity. Distress poured off him. I took the steps needed to put myself in front of him and did the only thing I could think of, knowing it had worked once before. I ran my hands up his arms, over his shoulders, to his neck. I rose up on my tiptoes and brushed my mouth against his. This time, he hesitated only an instant, and then his arms were around me. The towel around his waist was practically non-existent as he pulled me against him.
I furiously kissed him and waited for the memories of our night together to come racing back. When they didn’t, I pulled away and practically begged him to remind me. “Please spend the week with me.”
He ran his hands up and down my bare arms. “What is it about you? It’s like you’ve completely erased the word no from my vocabulary.”
I felt exactly the same way. Every minute with him violated the rules I’d written for myself. “I’ll make us some reservations.”
He shook his head. "No. If we do this, we do it on my terms. No fancy resort on some island your daddy owns. I get to pick the place, and I get to pay the tab. I won't be a kept man."
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay." He smiled. "So it's settled."
"On one condition.” I looked at my feet and steeled myself before looking back at him. I didn’t want to say the words, but I had no other choice. "After the trip's over, we go our separate ways."
His eyebrows furrowed, and he dropped his hands from my shoulders. "Is this because I'm a cop? Dear old dad won't approve? My bank account isn't big enough?"
"No," I lied. My father would most definitely not approve. He would hate everything about Scott, and he certainly wouldn't approve of my plan to go away with him for a week. But my life wasn't my father's to dictate, and he wasn't the reason this thing with Scott couldn't last. I was the one who'd dug my own grave.
He was new to town. But in a week, he wouldn’t be. He'd start his new job. He'd meet new people. It wouldn't be long before he'd want nothing to do with me. It was easier if I negotiated the end now. He had his terms, and I had mine.
"It's more likely I'm not good enough for you," I said quietly.
He shook his head. "For someone who seems to have it all, you sure don't seem to know it."
"For someone who had it all and lost it, I think I have realistic expectations." My voice quaked.
"What's the point in getting to know each other if you're already planning to walk away?"
I looked back and met his eyes. "I like you. For just a few days, I want something normal. I want to go somewhere where nobody knows our names, where when we walk in a room, they're staring at you instead of me."
He laughed. "Why would they be staring at me?"
"Look at you," I said, gesturing to him. "You’re gorgeous. No woman in her right mind wouldn't want you. And you're funny and smart and crazy intense. Here I am standing in your living room because I'm lucky enough to have had you but not smart enough to remember it."
"If we walk into any room together, Celeste, I can assure you they're going to be looking at you, not me." He blew out a long breath and looked away. "You just want a little piece of normal for a week? That's all you want from me?"
"Yes." It was all I could hope for. Wasn't this what every guy wanted? A woman who had no expectations?
"You do realize normal couples don't have conversations like this after knowing each other for three days, right?" he asked.
I chewed the inside of my cheek. I wouldn't agree with him if it meant he might walk away now.
He shook his head slowly. "I don't know what's going to happen between us, but I have a feeling it's going to be anything but normal. There's a reason why I can't let you go, and you don't want me to," he said, taking my hands in his own. "This is different. It's not some fantasy in a book."
He was right. The connection between us was the kind you fell into and drowned in if you weren't careful. When it was all said and done, I already knew it would be me who would be broken and alone. My banged-up heart was already showing a few new dents this morning.
But I didn’t care. I would take whatever I could get, but he had to accept that as well in order for this to work.
I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I can give you a week, but I can't give you my heart. It’s all I can do."
Scott’s mouth curled into a smile. "Celeste, if I want your heart, I won’t wait for you to give it to me. I’ll take it instead."
HIM
I had no intention of agreeing to her terms. She was overcomplicating what seemed pretty simple to me: I liked her, and she liked me. Until one of us changed our minds, I saw no reason to arbitrarily slap an end date on it. I wasn't going to spend a week with her already thinking about how and when it would end. "I agree to take it one day at a time. Good enough?"
She quietly considered it and then gave me a tiny smile that I took as a victory.
"Are you at least going to tell me where we're going so I know what to pack?"
"Remember when I told you about Starved Rock? It's beautiful down there. There's a resort. It's probably not what you're used to, but I think you'll like it. It’s pretty secluded."
"So we'll take the bike?" she asked. Her eyes seemed to light up at the idea.
"Yes. I have some errands to run this morning, but we can leave later this afternoon."
The smile on her face grew slowly at first but then exploded. When she was happy, Celeste lit up from the inside out. It was only the second time she'd let that smile loose on me, and I vowed to see it a lot more over the next few days.
We decided on a departure time and discussed what she should pack, since storage on the bike was limited. She laughed when I told her “no evening gowns” but looked a bit forlorn when I limited her to one book instead of ten.
After we’d decided everything, I took her face in my hands and looked into her eyes. “And lay off the alcohol this afternoon, okay? When we have sex for the first time, I don't want there to be any question about whether you remember it."
Her eyes widened, and the gold flecks in them seemed to spark with fire. Before she could say anything else, I laid a kiss on her that would give her something to think about until I could make good on the promise.
_______________
I’d barely had time to get dressed when there was a knock on the door. Thinking Celeste had forgotten something, I flung it open.
My brother grinned back at me with equal enthusiasm.
My smile fell as my body went rigid. Luke was the last person I would’ve expected to see on my doorstep. "What are you doing here?" I asked before I could stop myself.
"Hey, there! It's good to see you, little brother," he said in a mocking tone. "Did you drive all night? You must be exhausted. "
"I'm sorry. I'm just surprised," I said, forcing a smile. Texting him my address had apparently been a mistake; though I would’ve never thought in a million years that he would make the twelve-hour drive to see me. Inwardly, I groaned. I already had a full plate with figuring out the apartment and bike situation and taking Celeste on a trip. Adding my brother to the mix wasn’t necessarily a welcome surprise. I also wasn't foolish enough to believe this was a friendly visit. It was a trap.
"You could've called,” I suggested.
He cocked his head. "I did. About a hundred times. When you never answered, Ma insisted I drive up. I have the rest of the week off. You going to let me in or leave me standing out here in the hall all day?"
I stuck my head out and looked around. "Did you run into anyone on your way in?" I asked.
His eyebrows rose. "Beautiful brunette in a red dress, doing what appeared to be the walk of shame? Is she yours?"
>
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"That explains the shit-eating grin on your face when you opened the door. And why you didn't call me back last night. Seriously, can I come in? I'm tired as fuck." I opened the door wider, and he breezed past me and straight into the living room. He stopped so suddenly I almost ran into the back of him. "Holy shit. Did you win the lottery or what?" His head swiveled around the room in awe.
"Something like that,” I said because I still had no real answer and wouldn’t until the next day.
He walked around the living room, scoping it out and whistling under his breath. He met my eyes and his narrowed suspiciously. "Seriously, man. What's going on?"
I sighed in defeat, dreading having to voice all of my suspicions aloud. "Let me get some coffee in me, and I’ll tell you about all the weird shit that has been happening."
As I headed back to the kitchen, heavy boots clomped along behind me, and I considered whether coffee was strong enough to deal with the conversation ahead of me. Too bad it was only eight thirty in the morning, and I was still a little browbeat by the problems alcohol had caused the night before.
I found my Starbucks cup on the counter and drained it while my brother inspected the gourmet kitchen with wide, curious eyes.
He made a complete circle around the room before stopping in front of me. "Do you have one of those for me?" he asked, nodding to my coffee cup.
I raised an eyebrow. "Did you tell me you were coming?"
He mirrored my expression. "Umm … have you listened to your messages?"
Grimacing, I reached into the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. After he had taken one from me, I reached back into the fridge for a slice of supreme pizza and shoved that at him too. Maybe if his mouth was full, he wouldn’t ask all the questions I knew he had.
My phone vibrated on the counter where I’d left it. I swiped it up and glanced at the screen to find a text from Celeste. I did just leave you at your door in a towel, right? Another version of you was getting on the elevator when I was getting off. Wanted to warn you.
Too late.
A cheap imitation. My brother just got here. I hope you didn't fall victim to his charms.
Only the real thing for me.
A smile pulled at my lips. "Red Dress?" Luke asked through a full mouth.
"Mmm," I barely confirmed.
His eyes roved the room as he swallowed. "This kitchen is really nice. Too bad you don't know what to do with it."
I sighed. "The microwave works great, though."
"Do you care if I entertain here tonight?"
"Entertain?" I asked. "Who do you have to fucking entertain?" Five minutes with my brother and I was already talking like him—thick Brooklyn accent, foul language, and all.
"I didn't really drive all night. I came by late last night, but you were out so I made other arrangements."
"Nine-hunred number?" I asked.
I was giving him a hard time, but it wouldn’t have surprised me. On that point, we couldn’t have been more different. As far as I knew, my brother had never even contemplated a serious girlfriend, let alone marriage. He probably had a woman in every major city. Luke was a pretty boy, a serial womanizer, and a general pain in humanity's ass.
He rolled his eyes as if he could read my mind. "Downstairs. Her name was Sarah. She works here. Said she knows you."
I shook my head. "Her name is Sierra, not Sarah."
"Yeah. That's right. She said she'd let me into your apartment since it was obvious I was your brother, but I told her it would be rude. I asked if I could hang with her for a couple of hours until you got home. One thing led to another, and I decided to stay."
"And you didn't think it was rude to sleep with her before learning her name?"
"She told me her name first. It was Sienna."
It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Sierra."
He waved his hand in the air. "Right. I have her number. We're supposed to have dinner tonight, but now that I've seen this kitchen, I think I'd rather cook than go out."
No one knew where my brother had picked up his amazing skills in the kitchen. It wasn't as if he'd spent his teen years hanging out with Ma in hers. More likely, he'd been picking locks and smoking bowls in abandoned houses. Before he’d started upholding the law, he'd tried to make a career out of bending it.
He surveyed the room again as if he was already imagining what he would whip up in the gourmet kitchen. He seemed to have completely forgotten the absurdity of the situation, which was yet another example of the vast differences in our personalities.
He pointed at the stove. "That’s a Wolfe range."
I shrugged as he ran his hand across the top of it and left a smear of pizza sauce in his wake. He must have been truly impressed because he actually grabbed a take-out napkin from the island and cleaned it up.
He crumpled up the napkin and tossed it on the island, apparently not as impressed with it.
"That stove, as you would call it, is worth more than you make in two months’ time. So what gives?" Apparently, he hadn’t forgotten. “Does Red Dress have something to do with this?"
I stepped back and leaned against the bazillion-dollar stove. “I don’t think so. I’ve only known her a couple of days. I have to admit some really weird shit started happening right after I met her, but she says she doesn’t know anything about it.”
I began at the beginning, filling him in on my chance encounter with Celeste on the train and the subsequent rescue from the mugger. “Then yesterday, just as I was locking up my apartment in Evanston for the last time, a guy from Windy City delivered a brand-new Dayna to me,” I continued.
Luke’s eyebrows furrowed deeper and deeper as I recounted the even more bizarre switch out of the apartments. I showed him the signed lease and the note from the banker. When I told him about running into her again at the bookstore, he looked as suspicious as I’d felt at the time.
“That’s an awful lot of coincidences,” he said.
“It gets worse,” I admitted. “Last night, just after I’d talked myself out of believing she had anything to do with it all, I caught her coming out of the apartment next door. I followed her to a bar across the street and confronted her.”
“About the apartment and the bike?” he asked.
“That came later.” I ducked my head, a little embarrassed that my jealousy over the idea of her hooking up with someone else had taken precedence over my common sense. “Every time I bring it up, she gets upset. I decided to drop it for now but only because I really believe she didn’t have anything to do with this.” I raised my hands and gestured to the kitchen.
He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a pointed look. “Are you sure about that? Or do you just really want it to be the case?”
I shrugged. “Honestly? Maybe a little of both. But she looked genuinely surprised when I told her I’d moved to town. I was watching her closely, and I don’t believe she could have faked that kind of surprise.”
“Hmm,” he said. I could tell he was only halfway sold on the idea of Celeste’s innocence. “So I guess you made up this morning?"
I thought about Celeste, perched on my bathroom counter, the red dress riding up her smooth legs, and the look on her face when I'd pushed her legs apart.
"Not completely, but we're going away together for a few days. I need some time with her to figure her out. She’s just …” I shook my head. “I don’t know … complicated. I can’t explain it, but for some reason, I trust her. She acted like I'd slapped her across the face when I accused her of buying me all of this shit."
Luke rubbed his hands together. "Give me ten minutes with her. I'll get the truth out of her."
I had no doubt he could. Luke operated like a truth serum. It was what made him a good cop. It was also the reason I'd avoided calling him back all week. I hadn’t wanted him to know the trouble I’d gotten myself into.
“I'd prefer to keep her as far away from you as possible."
He
scratched his chin and smirked. "I can understand why. Won’t take her long to figure out she’s with the wrong Russell."
I crumpled my water bottle and threw it at him. He crumpled his and threw it back before turning and heading back to the living room.
"Let’s go, Romeo. We’ve got work to do,” he said over his shoulder.
“What’s that?” I asked, following him.
He picked up his bag from where he’d dropped it in the living room. “Don’t we have a date with a banker? If we’re going to pin this mess on someone other than Red Dress, that’s where we need to start.”
I stared at my brother, suddenly overcome with gratitude. No one else in the world would drop everything and drive twelve hours to check on me. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how overwhelmed I’d been dealing with everything by myself. It would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off. He’d keep me in check if I let Celeste sway me when I shouldn’t.
Because I couldn’t admit the sudden epiphany I’d just had, I sniffed the air around him instead. "Not before you shower. You smell like sex and …" I scrunched up my face. "Is that syrup?"
"Yep. Simone made me homemade chicken and waffles this morning before she headed down for work."
"Her name is Sierra, and why are you eating my pizza if she already fed you chicken and waffles?"
"Because we worked up an appetite afterward. You know, maybe I'll ask her to go away with me for a few days, too. Where are you going?"
"Look at you," I said, leading him down the hall. "Settling down after one night. And to think I could've had her first."
He tackled me, throwing me into the wall.
"But you didn't,” he said. “You let a real man do the job."
I ducked under his arm and threw mine around his neck, pulling him into a headlock. "Who's the real man now?" I asked, ruffling his hair before I let him go. "Did you really ride all the way here?"
"Nah. I trailered the bike. I want to ride around Lake Michigan while I'm out here." He cocked his head. "Can you do that?"
"Don't you think you should've checked before you hauled your shit here?"