Mr. Wrong

by Rebecca Royce

  He pushed the thought of Aaron’s crazy ex slicing his male parts off out of his mind. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I had my reasons. I’ve made the awkward up to you already and you don’t even know it. You have a date tomorrow night.”

  Doubt filtered through the businessman’s tense expression. “I don’t, actually.”

  Throwing the other man off his game took skills. The only place Aaron struggled was with women. “Actually, you do. I set you up with a woman I know. Her name is Brooke Anderson. Single, lovely and wealthy in her own right. She doesn’t need your money. And you’ll love her.”

  Cristian very rarely played matchmaker. Particularly since his own marriage had gone to hell. He’d had a feeling when he met Brooke she would appreciate Aaron, and vice versa.

  “And you making me go on a blind date lets you off the hook for placing me in between you and the gorgeous lady behind the bar who turned out to be your ex-wife?”

  He shrugged. “Yes”

  His friend laughed, shaking his head. “You are calculating as all hell. Do you think she knows you want her back?”

  Maybe his motives were transparent to Aaron. Good, having someone know felt nice.

  “Not yet.” She would. If he had to beg.

  Dahlia walked into the restaurant again, heading for the front door. She was fleeing? Oh no, her leaving wouldn’t do at all. “Order me something.”

  He grabbed his cane and damned his slowness as he followed his ex out the door of her beautiful restaurant.

  ****

  Dahlia had to go. She had to run, anything to escape her ex-husband’s presence. Once she’d seen him, her night ended. His energy permeated the whole restaurant, surrounding her.

  And he’s injured. Oh God, she wanted to weep. Cristian with a cane. The image was wrong. All the times she’d pictured him, all the ways she imagined seeing again him over the years, she never involved his being injured. He’d always been vibrant, always a put together businessman born to wear a three-piece suit when she knew he had been raised in a jeans and sweatshirt household.

  “Dahlia.”

  Cristian’s voice swamped her. Oh damn, he had chased her onto the street. Shouldn’t he be in the restaurant with his blond friend? She increased her pace. Ending the evening would be easy. She’d get into her car and drive home. Once there, she could lock her door and pretend her ex-husband had not destroyed her equilibrium.

  “Dahlia. Please. I cannot chase you with the cane.”

  She skidded to a stop, then whirled. “You’re not playing fair, using your cane to make me feel bad.”

  A few more seconds passed until he arrived where she’d halted. “I’ll use anything to my advantage. I have no shame.”

  It wasn’t true. Cristian had a code. His ethics might be an odd set of rules, except they were his own.

  “You came into my restaurant and brought Aaron Moskowitz with you. Do you know how long we have tried to have him come here?” She fisted her hands because they were shaking. Better he think she was mad than totally rattled. “A little advance warning about both his and your arrival would have been great. I could have prepared for one and avoided the other. I know I shouldn’t care.” She exhaled the last sentence on a rush of breath. “I know we’re divorced. You don’t me anything…but you rattled me.”

  Why did she bare her feelings and show him her soft underbelly? Habit had to be why. He’d always been the person she told everything to. Duke was her best friend yet their relationship wasn’t even on the same plateau as what she’d shared with Cristian. Even post-divorce Cristian.

  He’d been her friend before he was her boyfriend, then her husband. In fact, six months passed before he asked her out. To her sixteen-year-old self, the time had seemed forever. She’d convinced herself he wasn’t interested and agreed to go on a date with another guy, a soccer player named Dustin who was cute and kind of stupid. Months of studying with Cristian, hanging out with Cristian, having dinners with his family, and letting him take her back and forth to school had placed them safely in a friend zone.

  Their relationship shifted abruptly one sunny afternoon in January. She’d been seated in his car outside her house. Dahlia never wanted to go home. Since her mother’s death when Dahlia was thirteen, the house had not been a happy place. Pregnant, her older sister had to come home from college. She lived there too, and while Dahlia loved her nephew, there was never a time she walked through the door that she didn’t become instant babysitter to Adrian. Hard to do her homework and chase her nephew. Her sister wasn’t working so when Dahlia was home, she slept.

  “Will it be a rough night?” He motioned toward the house. “He was awake last night sick, right? She’ll have you working double time.”

  “You’re sweet to worry. Actually, tonight will be okay. I’m out at five. So, I’ll only have two hours before she has to take him herself.”

  Cristian drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Why? Where will you be? Do you need a lift?”

  “I have a date.” She paused.

  “Yeah?” He lifted his eyebrows and anger flashed in his eyes. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Do you know Dustin?”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Yeah. Actually. I do.”

  “Don’t sound so enthusiastic.” She winced at her snide tone. Really? If he didn’t want her seeing other people he should ask her out himself, which he’d never done, and hell, she didn’t owe him anything other than her friendship, which he had.

  He exhaled loudly. “Guy’s an ass.”

  “Well, thank you for your opinion.” She moved to open the door. “At least the so-called ass asked me out.”

  Cristian grabbed her arm. Anytime he touched her, his caress made her warm. “Dahlia, if you need me, you call me tonight and I’ll come get you. Anytime. No matter how late.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic.” She’d pulled away, and let herself out of the car. After, she slammed the door and stormed into the house. Only, he’d been completely right, and when she’d had to run for her life to flee from Dustin who had really not respected her no-sex rule, she called Cristian from the payphone on the other end of the park. He’d answered on the first ring.

  Cristian had wiped her face of tears before he’d spoken. “I haven’t asked you out because I can’t afford to take you anywhere.”

  His eyes were kind and the terror of the night melted away. “You think I care about where you can take me? I don’t have any money either.”

  “You deserve to be spoiled. I want to take care of you. Dinners. Jewelry.”

  “Cristian,” she snorted, “I don’t know what I would do if I got those things.”

  He smiled at her. “You’d be beautiful in them. I can’t have you wasting your time on losers. You’re mine. I won’t let any of these asses paw at or hurt you while I’m saving my money. Will you go out with me? Well, go in with me? We can watch a movie in my parents’ basement. I’m sorry for the sucky nature of the date. I swear someday I’ll take you somewhere extraordinary.”

  She’d kissed him then. His lips had been soft and his gasp startled. She would find out years later, he’d never been kissed before. Then, he’d returned her kiss. The moment had been magical.

  He’d never once tried to break her no-sex rule. Not until the night she told him she was ready. Three years after their first kiss, when she’d already known there would be no world for her without Cristian.

  Only she’d had a lot of years of no Cristian, and she’d built a new world for herself. Why was he in her life again?

  “I brought Aaron because I thought his eating here would be good for your restaurant’s reputation and earn me some goodwill with you in the meantime.” Direct…and honest. At least they had that much, still.

  Dahlia put her hands on her hips. Although he wasn’t wrong, Aaron did generate interest wherever he went in town, she didn’t feel like being generous with her mood. He’d ambushed her end of story. “Did you leave him alone at the
table?”

  “Don’t worry about Aaron. I can almost guarantee he’s made friends. He probably knows the life story of every person in there.” He took a step toward her, leaning on the cane. She could hardly breathe. He must have been so hurt. “He gets why I chased you.”

  “What?” His words dawned on her. Of course she faced Cristian. She should have realized there would be an angle to his decision-making. He’d never done anything without wanting a specific outcome. “Why are you here?”

  He was quiet for a second. Good, let him be uncomfortable. “I had to know. And I couldn’t think of a better way to gauge your feelings. If I’d had outright asked…”

  “Know what? You can explain a lot better than that.” Enough was enough.

  Cristian ran his hands through hair. “I had to see if I still had any effect on you at all before you could prepare for my arrival. Or if you were totally immune to me.”

  Her whole body was on fire and not in a good way. How dare he pull a stunt like this after they’d been apart for so long? “Oh, all the—”

  “Dahlia? You okay?” Duke’s voice interrupted. Great, he’d noticed her absence from Daisy’s. A minute later, he joined them. “Molly told me what happened. Mr. Wrong here bothering you?”

  She winced at the nickname. What she had once said aloud during a night of drinking with Duke had become a thing. Admittedly, the name helped her forge some emotional distance from him, but she’d never meant to slap him in the face with the knowledge. She would be enormously hurt if he called her something equal. Her stomach clenched. I really can be a bitch.

  Cristian went completely still. “I see I’ve earned a nickname.” Only the tic in his jaw revealed any distress.

  “Is he bothering you? Do you want him gone?” The idea of Duke making any headway in a threat against Cristian, sans a cane, might be humorous. With it? Her best friend might hurt her—might hurt Cristian. Her ex-husband was already too damaged, standing there with the cane. Her heart turned over.

  Before she could overthink it, she stepped between Duke and Cristian. “I’m fine, sweetie. We’re talking.”

  “Is he bothering you?” Her business partner’s gaze bore into hers. He was such a sweet man. Why couldn’t she love him? Why did she have to obsess over a brooding, dark-haired workaholic who brought billionaires to restaurants to see her?

  Did he really think she’d have refused to see him? How insecure was he?

  About as insecure as I left him when I broke my vow of forever and walked out the front door, knowing I’d never spoken a word about what really bothered me.

  Duke needed to go. Her two worlds teetered dangerously toward each other. “No, we’re talking. We’re fine.”

  “Won’t you introduce us?” Cristian picked up the gauntlet of Duke’s challenge, bypassing her wall of protection and taking a position at her side. Damn.

  She’d really rather not. “Cristian, Duke. Duke, Cristian. Duke, Cristian is my ex-husband.” Or at least she assumed he still was. “And Cristian, Duke is my business partner and the chef in our kitchen. And my best friend. So, we all know who each other are. Time to move on with tonight. Duke, return the kitchen. Cristian, whatever tonight was, consider our meeting over.”

  Duke nodded, though his tense posture and dark glower at her ex suggested he only waited for an excuse to pound Cristian. Still, he turned around and headed to the restaurant. Cristian, by contrast, didn’t move.

  “I didn’t need you to protect me from your chef.” His voice was low.

  She needed his machismo as much as she needed to be shot in the head. “Time to go Cristian.”

  “Meet me tomorrow. Please. For coffee. No games. I want to talk. Please…” His voice fell off in such a non-Cristian way tears pricked her eyes. Only sheer force of will kept them from falling.

  “Asking as a regular person would must have killed you. Could have done so in the first place if you wanted to talk. But then again this is you and you tend to just get your way, don’t you? I should say no for the novelty of it. But what the hell? Yes, coffee. Ten a.m. There’s a coffee shop two blocks from here. I’ll give you half an hour.”

  Her ex-husband’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “Thanks.”

  “Tonight was beneath you. You are capable of taking the higher road on things. I’ve seen you. Any more games and the next time I see you, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She didn’t look at him again on her way to her car, when she got in, or when she accelerated onto the road. Yet, she was aware of his gaze on her the whole time. Why the hell did I say yes?

  Why couldn’t she learn to stay away from the fire of Cristian?

  Chapter Three

  Cristian tossed and turned for hours. The fan in his hotel room kept switching from on to off, then on again. He had no control over the system. The temperature in the room he could manage, except he could do nothing about the fan.

  Sweetie. She had called Duke a nickname. Cristian rolled over in the bed. Were the sleeping together? Had her tastes rapidly changed to pretty boys with long hair? He shifted again. With his leg a mess, he’d never make himself comfortable. Pain pills made him foggy, and he was already making really poor decisions.

  Bringing Aaron to Dahlia’s restaurant without calling first provided him with an answer, but still served as a bonehead move. She’d been mad. Although she’d never said the words, he guessed she thought he was nuts. She was probably right. Aaron had loved the food and, as Cristian guessed, hadn’t missed him at all during his stint outside on the street. Duke might have spit in Cristian’s food. He had no idea. His stomach had been in too many knots to eat.

  Was she sleeping with Duke? What kind of name was Duke? Dahlia had Duke. He could practically see a wedding invitation. Cristian pounded on his pillow. The only problem was the pillow didn’t pound him in return.

  And Dahlia inserted herself between him and the weeny boy, as if he couldn’t handle himself. Who was he kidding? She was never going to want him. Not if she couldn’t respect him or think he could take care of her when shit hit the fan.

  He’d already failed her when they’d lost their baby and he’d been in perfect shape then. What kind of man could he be for her hobbled?

  She had a whole life here. Five restaurants. Damn, she was really doing something. Her interior design degree had taken her places he’d never envisioned. He had no business screwing the whole thing for her, but there were things to say. So, he would meet her for coffee, make things right, and spend the rest of his days longing for her smile.

  What other choice did he have?

  Is she making love to Duke?

  For three years, she’d kept him hot and bothered until she was ready. He’d been happy to give her the time she needed. Hell, he was lucky a gorgeous girl wanted to spend any time with him at all let alone kiss him, stroke him, tell him she was in love with him. He’d been busy. High school had come and gone and they’d gone to A&M together. He’d studied science while she’d been in the architecture school studying interior design.

  Hell, he’d not seen the sex coming. Cristian laughed. Such a typical nineteen-year-old guy. He wanted to get laid all the time yet he’d not known the night arrived until she’d practically hit him over the head with wanting sex.

  He closed his eyes. He could see the night if he tried, go there in his memory. He’d done so a thousand times over the years.

  His dorm room was small. Finally, unlike freshman year when he’d had to deal with a roommate who gave new meaning to the phrase drunk and disorderly, he lived by himself. He was studying the way elements bonded when a knock sounded. He’d no more looked in the direction than the door opened and Dahlia stuck her head in.

  “Good time?”

  Seeing her made his whole day brighter. She lit up every room she walked into. “Of course, baby. Come in.”

  Accepting his invitation, she slid inside and shut the door behind her. “What are you doing?”

 
“The usual.” He threw his highlighter and the yellow marker clinked onto the floor. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”

  Truth was, if he didn’t pull all As he’d not get his internship in Houston and then he’d do absolutely nothing with his life and…

  She smoothed his hair away from his forehead. “You’re obsessing. I can see.” She cupped the side of his face. “Right there, in the corner of your eye. Doing the you’re-worthless routine on yourself.”

  They talked about everything all the time. She knew him better than he knew himself. “I really want to get the job.”

  For both of them. He had a plan, a future that would give him enough income to take care of Dahlia for the rest of her life, to show her how much she mattered to him.

  Dahlia kicked off her shoes and snuggled next to him. She’d gotten a pedicure. Her toenails were painted red. He watched, fixated, as she rubbed her foot against his sock. The quiet moments were what he loved, the easiness in their time together. He never wanted to lose her, ever.

  She joined their fingers. “So I’ve been thinking about us.”

  “Good things or bad?”

  Her hands were so much smaller than his. She was working two jobs to pay for her living expenses, coupled with her student loans, which at least took care of the tuition. He wanted to do more for her than he’d been. His scholarships covered everything, and for the first time he didn’t need to work, although he was. The small amount he accumulated in high school would join what he earned in college and would help him take care of things for Dahlia when they got out. She wouldn’t be paying student loans for the rest of her life

  Dahlia leaned against him. “Can you put the studying away for the rest of the night?”

  He really loved her. Every last little thing about her filled him with such an enormous glow. Dahlia wanted his attention so he would put the books away. He shoved the homework to the side. “Consider chemical bonds gone.”

  She kissed his hand, her lips lingering over his knuckles. His cock hardened instantly. He spent a tremendous amount of time in a state of arousal. Cold showers and his hand had become his best friends. Dahlia had boundaries, and he respected them.