“Nothing is ever as it seems, sweet girl. You know that. How long did you pretend to be something you weren’t? Aren’t you doing that now still? Different in some ways, but at the core you’re still a master at pretending. You forget I’m your mother. I raised you. I know these things.” That small sentimental bone I have in my pinky finger starts aching for my mom. I need to visit her, hug her, let her understand me like no one else can. Still, her words ignite fire because she’s right.
“I am myself. I don’t know how to be anyone else!” My voice rises and I remind myself to keep my tone down. I have neighbors now. A quick glance in their direction and I see them outside by their pool. It’s a middle-aged couple with beautiful hair and a small dog that yaps incessantly. They are the typical resident in this neighborhood. Those that have worked hard for most of their lives and can now afford waterfront property in a gated community. I raise my hand when the man looks my way. He waves back, but turns to go into his house. Good, take that fucking rat dog with you, I think.
“If you get cold feet, it may be more than that, honey. That’s all I’ll say about it for now.”
“God, it’s like you’re on Cody’s side or something, Mom. Didn’t you hear what I told you? I didn’t have a choice! He ended our…affair, relationship, whatever you want to call it.”
“Did he really?” she asks.
I growl. “Yes. I’m one hundred percent sure.”
“People say things they don’t mean every day. You’re not the only one who can pretend.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re like a stale fortune cookie today, Jules,” I say, sitting down in one of the several iron reclining sun chairs. My sunglasses are sitting on the table next to me, so I pop them on.
She ignores me and begins telling me flight information. They arrive tomorrow. Great. I make a mental checklist of everything I need to get done on top of my never-ending usual list. I hear a door upstairs close and look up. It’s the set of French doors that open to the upstairs wrap-around balcony. I wonder how long Dax was listening. This is what it’s come to. A month before our wedding and he has to listen in on phone conversations with my mother to garner information. What am I doing?
You’re making a life for yourself. A life that would have been perfect if Cody never existed. But he does.
My mom makes plans to come down and spend the day with me when my cousins get here, tells me she loves me and misses me, and then hangs up without another word about her mysterious prophecies about Cody and our non-relationship. Dax didn’t hear anything. He couldn’t have. I plaster a fake smile on my face, walk into the dining room, and find a note on the counter from Dax.
Went to the store. Call if you need anything. ILY.
I sigh, relieved, yet worried. At least now I have time to make a phone call to the house cleaner and request that she come and tidy up and make up some guest rooms for the girls. Next is Chloe to make sure she doesn’t need any help with God knows what she has planned for this weekend. She doesn’t. She tells me she has it handled like a large cock in the palm of her hand. Eloquent. I shower, dress in a pair of jeans, and drive to Cody’s hopefully empty house to be there for the delivery. Some may think I’m asking for trouble even going to his empty house, but with how he feels about me, trouble isn’t even on my radar. Hurt is—pain and bewilderment, too. I’ll merely tell the delivery men where to arrange his beautiful pieces and then lock the door behind me and never go back. Never mind that the things I selected were things that I myself loved and thought were perfect. You know, that would go perfectly in the house with my dream kitchen and everything else that was supposed to be mine. Including him. I roll my window down and let my hair air-dry on the drive over to the house.
I’m anticipating this being a sick kind of torture.
****
The trucks are already here waiting when I pull up thirty minutes early. I call Dax to let him know I’m overseeing a delivery and I’ll be home for lunch. I also tell him about my cousins crashing the house in the very near future. He sounds happy. Probably because it’s the next step to the altar. We’re running out of days and activities. He tells me he plans on having a bachelor party this weekend, too. So we’ll both be out and distracted. We won’t be jealous of each other. I roll my eyes. After what I did to him, I can’t imagine being jealous over anything he could possibly get up to. If he wants hookers and blow for his bachelor party, I’ll support it. I also know that’s not Dax. But I tell him he is welcome to have as much fun as he wants.
I hop out of my car and walk up to the guy holding a clipboard. “Cody Ridge,” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re early,” I say, bending over to untie my tennis shoes. “No shoes in the house, pads underneath the large pieces while moving indoors and please, for the love of all that is holy, be careful with the walls. It has new paint and floors,” I explain. “I’ll open the garage, the dimensions of the pieces require a larger opening.” He nods, looks at me like I’m some kind of freak, and speaks with the other three men off to the side.
“I do this for a living,” I say to his thick back. “I know how this operates!”
He turns around, quirks one brow, and says, “Yes ma’am,” then turns back around. The nerve of some people.
Huffing out in exasperation, I leave them to their business and unlock the doors with the keys I have from before. I sigh. That realization leaves a lump in my throat. Before. Gross. I push open the heavy door, take off my shoes, and the scent of Cody hits me like a baseball bat to the face—his cologne and the scent that mixes with the flavor of his body wash to create the most mouthwatering concoction of a scent. All of that is in the air taunting me, haunting me, reminding me of what I can no longer have. “It’s a man’s house. Of course it will smell like a man,” I say. Why does it have to remind me of so much? It looks as if he hasn’t been here in quite some time. It makes sense, though, he prefers the NYC apartment and it seems that’s where his new friend lives as well. I was the reason he was previously here so much. Standing perfectly still, I look around and let my mind wander back. Not just to last month, but back further, when we first fell in love under the stars in the middle of the night. His arms wrapped around me and I’d never felt so safe in my entire life. I felt like every glistening star could fall from the sky, but his skin covering mine would shield me from harm, shield me from everything the world could throw my way. At the time, I didn’t know that my love for him could destroy me completely. The innocence and purity of that moment gives me chills. That was the beginning of our love story. This, right here, is the end.
I close my eyes and savor that happy memory. I’ll always have our memories, no matter where life takes him—no matter where it takes me, either. These memories can be my new dirty, little secret. My phone buzzes in my purse, shaking me from my reverie. It’s my intel man. He’s been digging up information for me. I answer.
He speaks without saying hello first. “No, I’m not in the city. I will be, why?” I say.
His voice is muffled due to the technology he has that makes his calls untraceable. Shady business. “We’ve been talking and we think it’s safer if you head into the city. It’s more crowded. If anyone is looking for you, you’re a sitting duck in your large house by the water.” The movers start unloading furniture into the empty great room. I scrutinize their every single move.
Without taking my eyes off them I say, “Duh. Obviously I’m well aware of the basics of survival and evasion. I know how to disappear. Has something changed?”
I hear papers shuffling in the background. “Well, uh, there was your wedding announcement in the newspaper. That may not have been the best idea, Ms. Rosemont.”
Fuck. Dax. He’s clueless. I can’t get that irritated. I look at my watch. “Of course it wasn’t. I didn’t do that. I’m headed into the city this weekend for my bachelorette party anyways. I’ll stop by in a couple hours to pick up the tracking devices and cameras. Are they ready?”<
br />
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” I hang up the call. Heading toward the direction of the smell of new furniture, I round the corner and smack directly into a broad chest. That’s what I get for being distracted.
“Watch it,” I mutter. Then I realize it’s not one of the ungrateful slobs, it’s Cody.
My eyes widen and my heart kicks into gear. My palms are sweaty. This can’t be happening. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
“A little incredulous of a question, no? It’s my house, Lainey. The last time we spoke I got the impression you wanted to murder me. Setting my house on fire with the new additions might be high on your hit list, too,” Cody says, smiling and holding his arm out toward the new, gorgeous table. I admire it because it is fucking beautiful. “I wanted to help move my things into my house.” Rational, yet infuriating.
“Of course. Just making good on promises. I’ll let you handle it from here, Mr. Ridge,” I say. “If you’d let me know you were handling it, I wouldn’t have intruded.” If I knew he would be here, I would have dressed up, put on makeup. I would have actually done my hair instead of hanging it out my car window like a Labrador Retriever. There’s never anything wrong with showing him exactly what he doesn’t want anymore.
Cody shakes his head. “Thank you, Ms. Rosemont. Your services are most appreciated and of the highest caliber. How much do I owe you?”
I scoff. He raises one blond brow. “You were the one handling this with such professionalism. Do you make it a habit of working for free?” he asks.
“Closing this chapter of my life is payment enough, Cody.” My damn voice shakes. He’s so beautiful. Standing in front of me bronzed, smiling, like in my dreams. “I should go. Dax is waiting for me.” Now it’s Cody’s turn to scowl. “I hope you like everything.”
“You’re going to see Phillip. You’re not going to see Dax. Don’t lie to me. I heard you on the phone,” Cody replies, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s a bad idea, Lainey. What are you up to?”
“You have absolutely no right to know my business. How long were you being an eavesdropping snake?”
“Long enough.” He licks his lips. My gaze is immediately drawn to his mouth. “Don’t do this again,” he orders.
“Why do you even care?” I shout, throwing both of my arms up in the air. I get the grand gesticulations from my Russian side of the family. He catches my wrists and holds them lightly. I hate that his touch heats me everywhere.
He takes a step toward me, continuing to hold my arms. “I care.”
I shake my head. “Bullshit. You made it crystal clear that you don’t care.”
The fingers wrapped around my wrist aren’t so gentle anymore. He pulls me close to his body, grabs my waist, leans down, and lightly touches his lips against mine. It’s a kiss, but not really. It says I love you, but not really. It’s everything and nothing. I melt against him. It’s an uncontrollable response that confuses me to no end. I’m his puppet. As quickly as the embrace began, it ends. He steps back and away from me and turns around, facing his back to me.
I hear another voice, one that does not belong here, clearing his throat, and it causes me to jump into the air. My fiancé.
“I knew you’d be here. I read it in your planner when you were on the phone with your mother,” Dax says, standing at the edge of the hallway that attaches to the garage. What did he see? Oh, my God, what did he see? Maybe he saw nothing. Pull your shit together, Lainey. I give myself a mental pep talk.
I walk to him because that’s the proper thing to do if you’re not guilty and flash him my megawatt smile. “Yes. I’m just finishing up. Cody showed up unannounced, so he’s taking care of everything now.” I know he didn’t see anything. He’s assuming. Relief washes over me. I give Cody a contrived smile when he sees us standing together. “I’m finished with the job, happy with everything that’s arrived. I’m sure Cody is as well.” Keeping the professionalism alive when I feel like having a panic attack is difficult, but not something I’m incapable of. And Cody said that returning to my espionage roots was a bad idea. Psh.
“Brother,” Cody says, approaching both of us. He looks like a goddamned panther stalking prey—real, reassuring jerk. Your mouth wasn’t on mine a minute ago. Dax tenses beside me, readying for a fight. I have to shake my head. Sometimes men are so stupid and territorial. Cody and Dax are about the same size, and I’ve always known they look similar, but seeing them together is odd. Same builds, eye color, hair color, bad ass attitude, and they’ve both been inside me. This meeting needs to get nipped in the bud, quickly. Cody extends his hand to Dax. “How are you? Lovely furniture your girl picked out, right?” Dax finally looks somewhere other than my face and Cody’s body.
“Yeah, it’s nice.” He takes Cody’s hand in his and shakes it firmly. “Looks like your deal is finished then, huh?” Dax asks me, but looks at Cody.
I’m confused. “Uh, yeah. Unless Cody sees something he doesn’t like or wants to change.”
“Something I want to change, you say? I think I do see something I want to change,” Cody mutters, Dax’s hand still in his.
“All right. All right. I don’t know what type of pissing contest you’re both engaged in, but I’m hungry. Let’s go get lunch, Dax. I have a million things to do before this weekend, Dax.” I say his name twice in hopes that he’ll pull himself from whatever testosterone driven hate fest is taking place. “And, Cody, you have my email. Send me a message if there’s anything you want to change.”
Dax spins to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I see Cody over Dax’s shoulder. He’s smiling like a lunatic. “The undertones are so glaring that they are now overtones. I’m not sure what you guys are talking about, but if Cody sees a table, or a piece of artwork, or perhaps an upholstered chair that he finds to be of bad taste, he may email me and I will exchange the said piece for him,” I say slowly. “Does that make sense to you, Dax Redding?”
He nods, looks at Cody, and then returns his gaze to me. “Cody, you’ll let me know?”
“Of course. Hey, do you have the time?” Cody replies, cocking his head to the side. His laser gaze is locked on my face. It’s so fierce and promising that it makes me uncomfortable in front of Dax. What must he think? We’ll need to have a long conversation about this. I’ll be reassuring him for the next week. It’s not really lying if even I myself don’t understand what it means. Cody didn’t say anything. He just almost kissed me.
I wrinkle my nose. He’s wearing a watch. I look at mine. “Eleven twenty,” I deadpan. Dax shifts his weight from foot to foot next to me. He’s antsy, wants to get away from here. Can’t say I blame him. I do, too. I’m confused and more heartbroken than ever. What does the almost kiss mean? Even if it meant something, does it matter at this point?
One of the employees walks by with a packing blanket. “Do you have the space for the bar on the other side of the dividing wall in the lounge?” Cody asks. The mover shrugs his shoulders and assures Cody that he’ll measure. Cody meets my gaze with narrowed, intelligent eyes. Dax storms off after mumbled goodbyes.
No one else picks up on it. Why would they? Time and space.
I swallow hard. I don’t know what else to say. “Good luck,” I whisper.
“I don’t need luck. I’ll see you soon,” Cody says, smiling.
My stomach does a flip-flop, spinning my morning coffee around in circles, making me feel sick to my stomach. For someone so hell-bent on not wanting me, he sure knows how to make a woman wonder. His words still wrap me tight. Marry him, Lainey. I don’t want you. We’re not going to work out. I can’t stop thinking about his lips against mine. And I shouldn’t because I hate him. He will pay for being so cruel.
I hate him.
Chapter Eighteen
Cody
“Write her a song. Chicks love songs,” Maverick says, stretching his bulky arms above his head. Steve is off to the side, testing out my new bar, pouring more whiskey and b
ourbon into glasses than he has any right at four in the fucking afternoon.
I shake my empty glass with one large ice cube. “Songs only work for you, dude. Maverick Hart is the only man who can seal deals with lyrics. My voice sucks,” I reply. Maverick smiles that million-dollar smile and shrugs his shoulders. Smug bastard.
Steve walks by, refills my glass with high-end bourbon, and heads back to the bar. As he heads back he says, “I like your new bar and the new furniture. I’m sure Lainey does, too.” He cackles. They have jokes. They’re here to hang out because far too much time has passed and because I’m a fucking mess over Lainey and they sense it. Tough guys we may all be, but damn, women really do a number on us.
Mav picks up a throw pillow and tosses it from a chair onto the couch. “She’s the one who picked it out, moron. Give him woman advice. That’s what he needs. Morganna is like a damned piranha. You have to be able to tell him something about the perils and rapture of keeping a woman. It’s been too long for me.” I haven’t told them why Lainey and I aren’t together. I’m sure they can formulate their own ideas and reasons. Neither was too surprised when I told them she was still marrying Dax. They must hang out with him too and not tell me. They are still SEALs and I’m not. I’m the odd man out these days. It’s strange. I can’t even tell them about V and the intel Dax gave. It would get him in trouble. And as much as I’d love to see him rot in prison friendless and Lainey-less I’m not a rat. I’d never go back on my word. A promise is a fucking promise and all that.
Time and Space Page 15
