Come Undone - A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Novel

by Gabi Moore

  “So what? What does commitment even look like? She doesn’t want to marry again, she knows I’d rather cut off my right arm than get married …so what? What does she want?”

  “My advice?”

  “Yeah, I guess I did ask for it,” I said and gave her a wry smile.

  “My advice is to ask for whatever she needs, and just give it to her. That’s it. Not hard.”

  “Sounds dumb.”

  “It’s smart. Think of it this way. She wants to let go with you. Think about how quickly she dropped that other guy, about how she keeps coming back to you. How’s the sex with you guys?”

  “Amazing,” I mumbled.

  “Exactly. She wants that. I’ll tell you a little secret: every woman wants that. To let go. To give a man her everything. I don’t care who she is, she wants to go all that way with him. She’s desperate, just waiting for someone she can truly open up with, someone she can be as much of a slut with as she wants… but she’s not going to do any of that shit if the guy’s not willing to do the same. If he’s not willing to make her feel safe. To feel completely chosen and wanted. You’re asking her to push her boundaries, to be all vulnerable with you, to take the risk of letting you into her heart and mind …but you’re still on the fence about whether she’s worth it or not?”

  “But …well, I guess …it’s just that.”

  “Don’t be an asshole,” she said again, and gave me a mischievous wink.

  “Fair enough. Really, I get it. But I don’t want to be tied down, you know? I don’t want to be caged…”

  She burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Dude, you don’t have to tell me the gory details, but if you’re anything like you used to be, you’ve totally tied that poor woman up, haven’t you?”

  I blushed.

  “You’ve literally put her in a cage!”

  I laughed.

  “They’re different cages,” I said, trying to defend myself.

  “Nah, they’re really not. You’re asking her to let go. But she won’t let go unless she knows she had something solid to hold onto when she comes back…” she said, contemplating the peeling label on the bottle.

  “When did you get so wise, huh?”

  She raised her beer to me and took a drink.

  “When? Man, I’ve always been this wise,” she laughed.

  We sat in silence for a while.

  Maybe she had a point. I couldn’t fault Kat at all. She had completely given herself over to our experiences together. Sure, she’d had her doubts, but it suddenly occurred to me how she hadn’t let them stop her. How I had pushed her and she had come, every time, to meet me right up against the boundary, fearless. Would it really hurt so much, to just meet her damn kid? The thought turned my blood cold, but I couldn’t deny that Valerie had a point. What was I so afraid of? And hadn’t Kat already gone way, way further than me in confronting her fears?

  Valerie and I drifted away from the conversation and back to her and her new guy. I felt like I was an anthropologist, standing on the outskirts of some elaborate alien mating ritual and having no earthly clue about what the hell I was looking at. But she seemed happy. Really happy. Of course I wanted Kat to feel that way, too.

  I drank in silence and listened to her going on about this and that, comfortable for a moment that the spotlight wasn’t on me anymore.

  “You’re right, though,” I said eventually, once there was a pause in the conversation. “I’ve been a dick about everything. I’m going to do whatever she needs, whatever she wants to feel safe with me.”

  Valerie smiled proudly. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it, I know this kind of thing is new for you.”

  I knew all Valerie’s dark secrets. And she knew mine. She knew that despite my work, despite the people I did business with and despite the fact that women were constantly drawn to me because of it, I was in truth laughably inexperienced. There had been a handful of casual girlfriends. There had been Valerie. And now there was Kat. Nobody would ever guess it, and I was happy to go along with their assumptions.

  I thought of Kat. About her fragile her collarbones looked when she was naked. Of how small her hands seemed as they stroked over my chest and neck. And yet she was the strongest, most passionate woman I knew. It made me ache somewhere deep inside. I wanted to protect that. Valerie had, in her own way, made me realize that. I had preached about following intuition to Kat, but I suppose I could stand a dose of my own medicine.

  “Do you ever feel like your life is just guided by fate sometimes? Like there’s just some invisible force guiding it?”

  She stared meditatively at her fingers as she spun her engagement ring round and round her finger.

  “Nah, of course not. No such thing as fate. You always get to choose,” she said after a long pause. “But there might be guardian angels along the way, helping out. I don’t know, I could believe that” she said and smiled sweetly at me.

  It was late when she left and I was fast developing a huge headache. A mountain of empty green bottles littered the table but I told myself I’d clear everything away in the morning. I grabbed my phone and fired off a message to Kat.

  Mark: You’re 100% right. I’m sorry. I’m in this for the long haul. I want to do whatever it takes to convince you of that. I can’t wait to meet Nicky

  I typed it quickly and sent it without double-checking anything. Then I lay in bed, thoughts and images drifting in and out of my consciousness. It started to seem kind of hot. Half-asleep, an image flitted into my mind. It was her, in bridal white …and chains. Her beautiful, milky breasts. The sexy way she’d always shiver and bear down those first few seconds I entered her. Her lips. Her unbelievable ass.

  Her image dissolved into symbols and impressions. Maybe committing could be hot. Maybe there was something erotic about claiming someone, about the ceremony and ritual of the thing. I wanted her to trust me with everything. With her life. With her soul. With her body. I reached down and stroked an idle hand over my engorged cock, and pictured her lips over me. My phone buzzed on the bedside table.

  It was Kat.

  She’d sent nothing but a string of emojis and hearts in response. I threw down the phone and stroked myself slowly to a deep, dreamy orgasm, then slipped easily off to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-One – Kat

  “May I have the credit card you used, ma’am?” she asked and extended a manicured hand.

  If organizing a wedding was stressful, it was nothing compared to un-organizing it. I rummaged around in my purse, pulled out a card and gave it to her. She returned a tight smile and fiddled with the computer in front of her.

  “Ok, just a few more things I need from you, ma’am. Now as I’ve already explained to Mr. Burgess, Littlefield Willows will only be refunding the price of the venue less the booking fee and a 40% cancellation charge, which means--”

  “I’m sorry, 40%? I’m pretty sure I was told it would be 10%?”

  She tightened her already tight smile.

  “Yes, ma’am, you’re absolutely correct, but that applies to postponed events only, whereas a full cancellation forces us to take 40%.”

  “Well, you’re not forced…” I muttered as I took my card back from her.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Nothing. Just …it’s a lot of money.”

  She nodded, thought for a moment then handed me a brochure she pulled from under the counter. People were already lining up behind me in a queue.

  “There is this, however, which you might like to consider. Seeing as you and Mr. Burgess didn’t opt for any of our insurance options, we can’t help much with the fee. However, we do have a new program where you can effectively pass on your wedding date to another couple independently and settle the fee that way.”

  She handed me the brochure. I gave it a confused look.

  “So …you basically sell your wedding to someone else?” I asked, incredulous.

  Her laugh was forced and too high
pitched.

  “Yes, something like that, ma’am! I mean, it does offer a way for people to recoup some of the losses in the event that a wedding should, you know…” she gestured towards me like she was alluding to some strange but unmentionable sickness I had.

  I forced a smile. It’s all red carpet and complimentary canapes when you’re signing up, but a 40% kick in the teeth when you cancel and a patronizing nudge over into the second hand wedding market. Bizarre.

  “I’m sorry, I think I’d really just like the refund right now, please. I don’t have a lot of time to be sorting all this out.”

  The cashier gave me a pitying look. “Of course, ma’am,” she said, and continued to fuss with the computer.

  I waited impatiently.

  “That’s a very pretty tree necklace.”

  I turned around to find the source of the voice. It was a pretty young woman with bleached hair and great big blue tattoos all over her neck and collarbone.

  “Oh, thank you. It’s …it was a gift from someone.”

  The woman was behind me in the queue but quickly came to stand beside me.

  “Boyfriend?” She touched her fingers to the necklace Mark had given me the first expo we did together.

  “Something like that. Maybe. I don’t know, right?”

  She smiled warmly and winked at me.

  “Oh it’s like that, huh? I got you.” She leaned in close to me and dropped her voice. “Now don’t be alarmed or anything, but I’m something of a psychic. Just a little gift I have. Had it since childhood. But I can see things, you know? I can just tell, the guy that gave you this, he’s a bit of a strange one, isn’t he?”

  I looked at her, a little shocked.

  “You could say that,” I said cautiously. The cashier eyed us as she sorted some documents for me to sign.

  “I’m seeing a kind of scruffy looking guy. A builder? Makes things from wood? Name of Mike maybe…?”

  “Oh God, Mark, yes that’s right,” I said, a little stupefied.

  “Well, I can see it all very clearly, he loves you, a lot,” she said emphatically.

  “He does?”

  “Oh yes. That’s very clear. And you should be patient with him. It’ll be worth it. It might not look like it now, but he has wounds of his own, you know?”

  She gave me another knowing look.

  “Uh …thanks?” I mumbled.

  The cashier handed me some receipts, I signed on the dotted line and then turned to leave. The bleached haired woman nodded to me and then breezily started talking to the cashier herself. I stood off to the side, a little taken aback for a moment, and then left the building.

  What a bizarre day it was turning out to be. Why not? If I was letting intuition guide me, then why not …psychics? I laughed to myself as I walked out into the parking lot. I had wanted a less ordinary life. Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

  I finished a few other errands and hurried to Lily’s to pick up Nicky and take her over to see the new apartment. Moving in had turned out to be a days-long affair, and Lily had mercifully agreed to babysit Nicky while I sorted it all out. I had promised her that once her room was unpacked and everything laid out properly, we could spend the first night there, and I’d get us pizza and we’d watch movies.

  I bundled her into the car along with her bags and three separate plush toy dignitaries and we waved goodbye to Lily and set off for the new apartment.

  Strange, but the whole thing reminded me of my college days. The mood, the black bags of bedding tucked in the back seat… I would have felt like I was moving into a new dorm room, only now my roomie was a kindergartener and the course I had enrolled for was called ‘getting back on your feet after your entire life crashes and burns’.

  I smiled to myself and Nicky, and I sang songs till we arrived at the new place.

  “It smells like dog food in here!” she announced as I cracked open the door and peered in.

  “It’s just a little stale, honey. Help me open up some windows.”

  She bounded off and I took a look around. Half opened boxes, and the curtains hadn’t been put up in the kitchen yet. But it looked good. It felt good.

  With perfect timing, landline suddenly rang. It was a new line and he was the only one who had the number so far.

  “Well hello.”

  “Hey.”

  The phone was silent as we both tried to think of what to say to one another.

  “I got your email,” he said eventually. I heard myself exhaling into the receiver.

  “I’ve been thinking about all the things you said in it. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And I think it’s a good idea.”

  I smiled and walked around the room, examining the dust on the floorboards.

  “Good to hear,” I said.

  “Good.”

  “Yes, good.”

  We both giggled.

  “Are we crazy?” I asked him, then flopped down into the still plastic-wrapped sofa.

  “I don’t know. But there’s nobody else I’d rather be crazy with, if that helps.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “It does help,” I said.

  I wanted to tell him how much I missed him. How desperately I just wanted him here, with me, right now. I just wanted his warm, hard chest and to lean into it and forget about everything.

  “By the way, your new design is selling like hotcakes.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh huh. I think you have a real eye, Kat.”

  I scoffed.

  “It’s just a fancy bed. No big deal.”

  “Yeah well, you’ve obviously tapped into something. I can’t make them fast enough.”

  “Pffft…”

  “What about yours? When are you getting rid of that nasty thing of yours and letting me make you something pretty for your bedroom?”

  “I already said not to worry about anything for—”

  “Nonsense. I’m making you a bed, and that’s that. A twisty four-poster. Scandinavian style, I know the kind of thing you like.”

  “Mark…”

  “And I’ll carve your initials into it, too.”

  “And do I get sneaky hidden latches and bolts and things?”

  “Naturally” he said. “It’ll be uh …a multipurpose bed.”

  Even months later, he could still turn me on in a split second. The soft, low growl of his voice sent a delicious little ripple through me that pulsed right to the end of my clit. I leant against a wall and lowered my voice.

  “I miss you,” I whispered.

  “I miss your ass.”

  I giggled.

  “It’s been too long,” I complained.

  “Do you think I could make you come over the phone?” he said.

  “Well, you’ve made me come every other single way, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

  “Challenge accepted,” he purred through the line.

  “Mark, I’m wet.”

  “Fuck yes.”

  “I was thinking about you this morning…”

  “Oh? And what were you thinking?”

  “Mommy! Why does it smell like dog food everywhere?!”

  I spun around and saw Nicky standing in the door, with a look of disgust on her face that only she could muster, her wooden horse dragging behind her. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. When I finally put the phone again to my ear, Mark was giggling too.

  “Mommy, for real, why does it smell like dog food at your house?” he teased.

  “Shut up, you!” I said.

  “Mommy is it Mark?” Nicky said. “I want to say hello.”

  I lowered the handset down to her and she took it in her tiny, fat pink hands, then held it up against her ear. I could hear Mark’s faint voice coming through the line, but she said nothing in reply.

  “Nicky, say hello,” I said. She lifted her big eyes to me.

  “Hello, Mark,” she said dutifully, then immediately handed the phone back to me and toddled off, the woo
den horse clattering like hell behind her.

  “She’s hilarious,” he said once I took the phone again.

  “Well, she drives me bonkers.”

  The phone was silent for a moment.

  “Kat, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, his voice again dipping low.

  “Me too,” I whispered.

  “It’s a big step.”

  “I know, but I want to do it with you.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  We said our hushed, hurried goodbyes and I hung up, and before I had any time to think about it, Nicky came whizzing into the room again and I decided to get her to help me unpack some boxes. She sat opposite me on the floor and we peeled the newspaper off wine glasses for a while, then chatted about pizza. It was a good, sweet, perfect moment. And in my mind, I thought about all the good, sweet, perfect moments ahead of me. I was petrified, truly. But in a few days Mark would meet Nicky, and we’d head off together for a break to the mountains, just us three.

  Chapter Twenty-Two – Mark

  I have the quintessential ‘edgy’ lifestyle. I do things in my down time that would make even an open-minded girl blush hard. I’ve endured countless tattoos and circular saw accidents and one summer I felled a 90-foot redwood with nothing but grit and a hand axe.

  So I had to laugh that I sweating bullets this morning at the mere thought of meeting the acquaintance of a two-and-a-half-year-old toddler.

  I checked and double-checked the camping gear. I had already called Valerie the night before for moral support and she had laughed uproariously at me, telling me I should thank my lucky stars for the love of a good woman and to just call her when I got back. I wiped sweaty hands down the front of my jeans and nervously peaked out the window again. They were late.

  I drummed my fingers on a loose plank of mahogany and tried to calm my nerves. Some people, I guess, are like saplings. Still growing, still pliant. You’re not quite sure what the final shape will be, but it’s pretty in the meantime. I remember cutting down an alder once up north with my father, and the following year we came back, there was another tiny alder growing right in the middle, a little leafy green phoenix, utterly undeterred.