by Lila Kane
Damn. I didn’t feel like this when I found out about Denise and Kyle. I was pissed, plain and simple. But I didn’t hurt my chest the way this is.
Which tells me just how strong my feelings for Libby are.
And how broken my heart is now that it’s over.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LIBBY
It feels like my eyes are swollen. I didn’t sleep well last night, and every time I told myself this isn’t a big deal and not to cry, I’d break down. Over and over again.
How had I let myself fall in love with Carson so completely in the span of three months? Was that even possible—to grow that attached to someone?
But then, we’d spent almost every single waking moment together. Talking together, working together, laughing together. Having sex. I know more about him than I do about all my other boyfriends combined.
Or at least I thought I did.
I walk downstairs and smell coffee. For a moment, I’m confused. Then I realize Carson must have preset the timer and got the coffee ready for today. He’s good about that. He might be disorganized about everything else, but he’s serious about his coffee.
But when I hear the noises in the backyard, I pull my robe tighter around me and walk to the kitchen and toward the back door.
I didn’t hear Carson come in last night, but he might have arrived in the wee hours of the morning when I’d finally fallen asleep.
What the hell is he doing here? Working?
When he sees me at the window, he pulls off his safety goggles and walks to the door. My heart lurches. God, I want his arms around me. I want him to comfort me. To tell me this whole thing is a joke.
But it isn’t, and I won’t let him touch me. None of it is real.
When he steps in the door, I force my eyes to stay on his face. Who cares how good he looks or how much I want him right now?
This is business. That’s all we have between us.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“We have an agreement.”
“We had an agreement,” I tell him.
His gaze drops to my hand clutched at the opening of my robe. I used to think it was heat I saw there, in his eyes, but now I realize he’s just putting on a show.
“Are you saying I’m fired?” Carson asks.
“I’m assuming you don’t want to work here now that I know the truth. You got your revenge on Kyle, so there’s nothing else to do here.”
“Finish the house, that’s what I have to do,” he says, voice low and dangerous. I don’t back down when he takes a step closer but my heartbeat picks up. “I signed a contract, I gave my word that I’d do a job. I don’t go back on my word despite what you might think about me.”
“I…” I swallow and try again. I’m the boss, this is business. “I’ll pay you for the work you already did. It’s going to be awkward otherwise.”
“It’s going to be awkward anyway. Knowing what you think of me—and knowing there’s nothing I can do to change your mind. It’s going to be awkward because I still have feelings for you and you’re shutting me out. So, fuck awkward. I still want to do my job.”
My throat dries at the heat in his voice. The passion in his eyes. He’s either a phenomenal actor or he really believes in this project.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I can’t bring myself to fire him. And we do have an agreement. I should have kept it professional, but we both signed. He does his job and I pay him. And so far, he’s doing his job. I can’t complain about that at all.
But…how am I supposed to work with him?
I don’t know what he reads in my hesitant silence, but his face softens. He takes another step forward, and I swear my body is leaning toward his. Longing for him.
“I wish you’d let me talk to you,” he says quietly. “Explain.”
Explain? He means explain what he should have told me in the first place.
I step back, shaking my head. “I need…I need to run some errands. I’ll let you get back to work.”
I hurry out of the kitchen. I can’t be here with him right now. Now with the way he’s looking at me. Vulnerable. Hurt. Damn it, I almost believe him.
But that would be another mistake. I already made enough of those. So I’ll learn from it. I’ll get this place done, turn around and sell it for a bundle, and start new. Smarter. Maybe even work with my dad and Dustin for a bit to get my mind off of what happened here.
To learn a little more.
That’s a plan, and I can do plans.
But right now I need to get out of here. I call Cheyenne to see if I can stop by her office, and soon I’m on the way to the coffee shop she told me to meet her at.
It’s cool inside, with a steady flow of patrons looking for their morning fix. Cheyenne arrives just a few minutes after I do, and she immediately puts her arms around me. “Did you kick his ass?” she whispers in my ear.
I give a painful laugh. “I don’t know if what I did would be considered kicking his ass, but I laid it all out there for him.”
“And then what?” She rolls her eyes as she sits. “He probably walked out. The gig is up, right? He got caught with his pants down and now he’s moving on to dupe the next innocent woman.”
“He’s at the house,” I tell her. “Working.”
“Wait—what?” She frowns. “He’s still working there?”
“What am I supposed to do? Fire him?”
“Yes! Can his ass.”
“We have an agreement.”
“Yeah, but you can still fire him. I mean, he’s probably not even working very hard.”
My shoulders droop. “That’s the thing. He is. He’s doing a ton of work.”
She angles her head, and then nods. “Okay, no—I get it. Have him do all the hard work, and then can him. Better idea.”
“I can’t. Don’t look at me like that. If he walks out, then that’s him being an ass, but if I fire him or screw him over then I’m no better than he is.”
She folds her arms on the table and leans in. “Did he at least explain? I mean, I’d feel a little better if he was just down on his luck or his jerk partner kicked him in the balls as hard as he deserved to be kicked. Then you know he at least got what was coming to him—even though he doesn’t have turn right around and do the same thing to you.”
I rub my hands over my face. “I’m not sure that’s what he’s doing. I just…I don’t know. He tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear it. But he…God, he doesn’t act like he’s lying about everything.”
“Act. That’s the key word. He’s acting. Maybe he’s just really good at it.”
“Really good.”
“All right, well…Shit.” She sighs. “So what are you going to do? Let him keep working for you?”
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t know what to do. I…” I rub my hand over my heart, the place that still hurts after everything that’s happened. “I want to get this house done, and he seems to want the same thing. He’s doing a good job and it kills me to think about having to find someone else after all this.”
Cheyenne nods. “I mean, yeah, that makes sense. It’s business, right? So…can you still work with him? Like if you totally ignore him and just do your job? Can you handle it?”
I don’t know. But I nod. “I think I can. I think…if I just focus, and haul ass to get this project done, I can do it. Then we can both go our separate ways and I never have to see him again.”
Cheyenne reaches out to put her hand over mine. “Okay. I’ll support you. Get this project done, I’ll sell it for you, and you can move on.”
Move on. That’s all. I’ll focus, work, and then…then, I’ll try to move on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CARSON
Someone is going to get one hell of a house. We’re almost finished, maybe two weeks to go—which is well before our deadline in December. In fact, if we haul ass, we might be out of here before Thanksgiving.
And it seems like that’s ex
actly what Libby wants.
She hasn’t said more than a handful of words to me in the last two weeks, and that was strictly about work. She nods, she agrees, she manages, but she doesn’t talk to me about anything else. Even though I’ve tried a million times.
How can she be so cool to me after what we had? How can she think I’m lying about my feelings? Even I can’t lie to myself. I’ve fallen in love with Libby, and it’s a knife to the heart every time I see her.
Because I can’t have her. Because she doesn’t want me.
But when I hear her curse from the kitchen, all those thoughts vanish and I race in her direction. “Libby?”
Her back is to me when I come into the kitchen.
“Libby?” I ask again. When she doesn’t answer, I walk straight to her. “Damn it, are you okay? I—”
She turns around, her jaw set. There’s a knife next to a lime on the counter behind her. “It’s nothing. Just a scrape.”
“Fuck. You cut yourself? Let me see.”
“Carson—”
“Let me see,” I say, gripping her wrist. Her other hand falls away and I see a smear of blood on her finger. “Libby…Okay, let’s get it under water and—”
“Stop. I can take care of myself.”
She yanks her hand away, and I try but fail to get my anger under control. “You’re standing there, fucking bleeding, and you want me to just walk away? Let you handle it? What the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you see I care? Can’t you see that I lo—”
I break off that instant, so shocked by my own words, I don’t know what to do. Libby’s eyes are wide, locked on mine. I’d almost told her how I really feel. I’d almost admitted it to a woman who doesn’t want anything to do with me.
I swallow hard and pretend like nothing came out of my mouth. Like I hadn’t just almost told her I love her. “Can you please just let me help?” I ask.
She nods mutely, looking as shocked as I feel.
I take her hand gently and put it under cool water from the tap. “Just hold it there for a minute,” I say quietly to her.
Her arm brushes mine and she looks up. Damn, she’s so beautiful. She smells so good. What would she do if I leaned in right now? If I brushed a gentle kiss on her lips?
Then she glances away.
“You are the most accident-prone woman I’ve ever met,” I say, trying to lighten the situation.
She gives a quiet chuckle that makes my shoulders relax. I’m relieved. Maybe this is that start to something better. Maybe she’s finally letting go of her anger toward me.
“You might need stitches,” I start.
She shakes her head immediately. “No. No way. No more urgent care. Nothing. We’re finishing this house. I’ll put on a Band-Aid and we’ll be good to go.”
“Stubborn,” I mumble. “But I like that you said that.”
“What?”
“‘We’. That ‘we’re’ finishing this house. Us. Together.”
“Yeah well…” She scuffs her sneaker on the floor. “You’re doing a good job. And I want to finish this.”
“So do I.”
When she looks up again, her eyes lock on mine. Her hand is still under the running water, but I don’t care. In that moment, all I can think is how badly I want my mouth on hers. How badly I want this to be over—this awkwardness.
I just want Libby.
I bow my head slightly. Her breath touches my lips when she exhales, and I fight back a groan. I need her so bad.
One of my hands tangles in her hair, gently tipping her head up so I can kiss her. And it’s like heaven when our mouths touch. Every part of me comes alive, longing for her, needing every part of her.
In an instant, she yanks back. Water splashes out of the sink, surprising both of us.
“I—I can’t—” she says.
“Libby, please.”
There are tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to believe.”
“Believe me,” I say, stepping to her again. “Believe that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I lied about Kyle and that’s it. Everything else—everything—is real.”
Even the part about loving her. I couldn’t say it loud. Can’t right now because she might not reciprocate. But it’s real. All of it.
She grabs a paper towel from the counter and wraps it around her finger. She ducks her chin. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.” I tip her chin up to see her eyes. “You know me. You know I’m telling the truth.”
Her mouth opens. It’s on the verge of her lips—I can see it. Belief. That need to give in because she knows I’m telling the truth. Because she knows there’s something real here.
And then she shakes her head. “I can’t.”
She walks from the kitchen, leaving me standing next to the sink with water on my shirt and a broken heart.
Hell. Why do people ever get into relationships? They always feel like shit.
“Fuck!” I shut off the water and resist the urge to smash something.
I’d just end up having to fix it anyway, and that’s not an option right now. The only choice I have is to keep working, finish this house as quickly as possible so we can get over this awkwardness.
I want nothing more than this whole problem to vanish. For Libby to believe me.
But now I have no hope of that happening.
So all I can do is finish my job and get the hell out of here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LIBBY
It’s completely finished. I moved my stuff out over the weekend and so did Carson—which means I haven’t seen him in a few days.
I thought he might have come to the open house yesterday, just to see the kind of interest we had, but I didn’t see him.
Which killed me. I thought I’d be okay. I thought I could be tough and move on, but I didn’t realize how hard I’d fallen for Carson. Or how big of a mistake I might be making.
He seemed sincere about Kyle and the whole situation. Yeah, he lied to me, and that pisses me off.
But I’m beginning to think he only lied about Kyle. Not the house, not about caring for me. In fact…I think he might have been about to tell me he loved me.
When we stood in the kitchen, I swear those words were on his lips. And they were on mine too, because even though he hurt me, I still had feelings. Strong ones.
Just as I’m about to call him, to see if we can talk to at least clear things up, the doorbell rings.
I open it to find Cheyenne standing on the other side, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.
My heart leaps. She must have good news.
“You know why I’m here,” she says with a smile.
“We got an offer on the house.”
She passes over the champagne. “No. We got three offers on the house.”
My mouth drops open as she walks inside. “Three? But…we just had the open house yesterday. No one else has even come to see the house.”
“Doesn’t matter. The place is fabulous and the market is great for sellers right now. This is a good thing! Let’s celebrate and then make a decision who you’re going to sell to!”
We walk to the kitchen and I find the only two glasses we have available. We pop the top and pour the champagne, while Cheyenne prattles on about the offers.
“I should probably talk to Carson,” I tell her. “It’s his decision, too.”
She gives me a confused look. “What? You mean you guys didn’t talk about this?”
“Talk about what?”
“He called yesterday after the open house and met me for coffee. I thought—I thought you knew he was coming. I mean—”
“What, Cheyenne? Just tell me.” But my stomach is already in knots. This doesn’t sound like something I want to hear.
“He said you deserve all the profits on the house and you were going to make the decision on who to sell it to and when to sell it,” she says. “I figured it was something you talked about.”
“No,
no, no…” I sink into a chair. He can’t do this.
“Libby, what’s wrong? This is a good thing, isn’t it? I mean, yeah, he did a good job and I’m kind of surprised he’d give it all up—”
“I know,” I whisper. “Doesn’t sound like a guy who was trying to screw me over, does it?”
She shakes her head. “Not really. I was surprised, too. I was ready to rip him a new one. But then he told me you were getting all the profits and he gave me his key to the house, and I…well, I couldn’t be too mad at him after that.”
I wrap my arms around my stomach. “He tried to talk to me, but I wouldn’t listen.”
“Maybe things are better off this way,” she says, but then peers closer at my face. “They aren’t, are they?” When I don’t answer, she sets her hand on my shoulder. “You love him, don’t you?”
I nod. “I do.”
“Then you have to talk to him. Tell him.”
“But…” I pull out my phone. “I’ll call, see if he’ll come here.”
I let the phone ring and ring but he doesn’t answer.
“Try again,” Cheyenne says.
I do, but I still don’t get an answer. Voicemail doesn’t even come up. What? Did he change his number? Is he trying to avoid me?
I guess I would if I were him. He’s trying to move on. I should let him. But now…I can’t.
The doorbell rings and I stand immediately.
“You think it’s him?” Cheyenne asks.
I jog to the door, hopeful, while she follows me. When I yank the door open, I’m confused for a moment.
Carson isn’t there. But my dad and Dustin are.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dad says.
He steps in and I give him a hug automatically.
“You weren’t kidding,” Dustin says, looking around. “This place is huge. Sorry we didn’t make the open house.”
“The open house?” I shake my head, still confused. “What are you doing here?”
“We couldn’t make it yesterday,” Dad said because we had to work, so we’re here now. “This is a big deal, Libby. Your first place. I bet you already got an offer.”
