A Will and a Way

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A Will and a Way Page 13

by Maggie Wells


  The husky confession rocked her world. Falling back on her heels, she gripped his knees and shook her head. “No. Don’t say that.”

  Will blinked, confusion creasing his brows. “Why not? I do. You are.”

  She wagged her head even harder, but the implication was already winding around her heart. But he couldn’t know what those too easy words might cost her. It bound her to him whether he knew it or not. They’d be the words she took out on dark, lonely nights and played over and over again. He wouldn’t be the one dissecting every syllable for subtext and reading extra meaning into the syntax. He’d be onto his next conquest, and she’d be right back where she started—forgotten, humiliated, left. All the things she swore she would never be again.

  Pressing her palms to his knees, she braced herself to push away, but just then the front door opened.

  “Hello?” a deep voice rang out.

  Her gaze flew to Will’s. Ever the gentleman, he grasped her elbows and helped her to her feet before rolling back a few inches and turning the chair away from the office door.

  She called to their visitor, “Be with you in a minute!”

  His zipper rasped and belt buckle clinked. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she assured him, though, in truth, she was wobbly as a newborn colt. “I’ll just go….” She waved an ineffectual hand at the outer office.

  Will shoved the tail of his shirt into his waistband. “We’ll pick up where we left off later, Ms. Asher.”

  Betty searched for a retort as she strode to the office door but came up empty. Flashes of the fantasies she’d toyed with their first time together played in her head. She hadn’t thought twice about Fed Ex or UPS since the first night she and Will made love. She’d entertained no notion of revenge, or even rebellion. For days on end there hadn’t been anything but Will’s body buried deep inside hers, his laughter ringing in her ears, his mouth covering hers, giving her his breath and stealing hers.

  Since the moment their affair began, she’d only been in her apartment long enough to collect clothes. She hadn’t eaten a meal she hadn’t shared with him. Or slept on a pillow. They worked together. Slept together. In less than one week, her whole existence had boiled down to an existence that revolved around him. And there it was—the writing on the wall. She’d fallen right back into the same pattern she’d lived with Donald. Except this time, she was making a bigger mistake than falling for the big fish in a small pond. This time, she was falling for Will Tarrant, the man, the legend, the dark prince of Riverside.

  There was a rustle of movement in the outer room. Their visitor’s voice came from a spot just outside the office door. “Hello? Mom?”

  Will shot to his feet, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. “Mom?” he mouthed, his glare fierce and accusing. “Mom?”

  A strangled sob choked her. Betty pressed a hand to her throat as she whirled toward the outer office, her eyes wide and starting to water. “Donnie?”

  A hundred unanswered messages, texts, and e-mails, and her son had come looking for her now. Now? She had to hand it to her one and only child. He had just as much flair for entrances as he had for the dramatic exit. “Oh, my God, Donnie!”

  She ran her hands over her hair then her dress. The slide of fabric over freshly-bared flesh made the heat rise in her cheeks. “Uh, I’m….” I’m what? Coming? God, how many times had Will made her come on that desk out there where her boy was standing that very minute? “Be right there!”

  Turning back to Will, she searched that fallen angel’s face for the answer she needed but found only dark confusion. “Your kid is here?”

  “Apparently.” The words came out clipped and sharp, but she couldn’t be bothered softening them. Not when the prodigal son had returned. Checking the tie on her dress one more time for good measure, she shot Will a sidelong glance and got an accusatory glare in return “It’s not like I was expecting him.”

  “God, I hope not. That would have been on hell of a show.”

  She blew out a breath, her eyes fixed on the spot where she’d knelt minutes ago. Fumbling behind her back, she rehooked her bra. “What the hell was I thinking? What was I doing? I don’t do this!”

  Grim-faced, he slipped the tab of his belt through the loop. “I beg to differ. I’d even go so far as to say it’s one of your greatest talents.”

  The snarky comeback flew all over her. “You and me. I can’t do this…whatever this is, anymore.”

  He jerked as if she’d slapped him clean across the cheek. “What? Why?”

  “Didn’t you hear that?” She tugged at neckline of her dress, making sure she was nowhere near as exposed as she felt. “That’s my kid out there.”

  “I look forward to meeting him.”

  “No,” she said, her voice an inkling stronger than it had been a moment before. “No, you can’t.”

  “I can’t? You can’t just—”

  “We said no strings,” she reminded Will in a tremulous whisper. “We agreed this could go on as long as both of us wanted. Either of us can call it quits as soon as it stops working for us. Well, this isn’t working for me.”

  “Bullshit.” He shot from the chair but halted when she took an involuntary step back. “You want me as much as I want you. Christ, it’s written all over your face, Betty.”

  “That doesn’t matter. You can fire me if you want, but this…affair is done.”

  “But—”

  She gave her head a shake then whirled. The tender skin inside her thighs tingled and chafed as she spun away from him. She winced but squared her shoulders, willing to accept the lingering sting of a worthless wax as her punishment for her behavior. It beat the crap out of a broken heart.

  Leaving Will sputtering, she charged into the reception area and threw herself into the arms of the man who’d abandoned her three years earlier. She knew just what to expect from her son. And she knew she could survive having her heart broken by him. She wasn’t so sure she would survive the demise of her fling with Will.

  “Donnie!”

  * * * *

  Will collected himself before following Betty. He’d been in a state of near-arousal almost from the second he’d stepped foot in the office and spent the better part of the previous hour fantasizing about all the ways he wanted to violate the former first lady of Percy, Mississippi. Getting his dick to stand down was going to take more than a breath-taking revelation and a resounding rejection. After all, there wasn’t a man alive who didn’t believe a good banging had the power to solve any problem.

  Like a fly drawn to sweet, southern honey, he made his way toward the low-pitched voices in his anteroom. Donnie. The mystery son. Spawn of Donald, Mr. Mayor of Percy Mississippi.

  Will wasn’t exactly sure what the situation was between mother and son, but he’d be damned if it would have adverse impact on what was happening between him and Betty.

  Moving to the door, he stole a quick peek then made his presence known. The kid was tall. More than a full head taller than his mother, but given her petite stature, it wasn’t a surprise. What was surprising was the carrot-colored hair and the starbursts of freckles scattered over milk-white skin. The kid was a bonfire compared to his mother’s subtle glow.

  Donnie met Will’s gaze with a directness that landed like a punch to the soft parts. They burned blue as the heart of a flame, but he’d stared into Betty’s eyes enough to know golden flecks turned the irises almost green in certain light. Seeing those too-familiar eyes set in another man’s face him made his stomach twist. The grim expression that thinned the kid’s lips told Will that young Donnie was catching on fast enough.

  For the first time in his life, Will tasted defeat without even realizing he’d been in the game. The kid wasn’t a complication to sidestep, or a dragon to slay. Hell, he wasn’t even a kid. He was a grown man. One Will could never best in a battle for this particular maiden’s heart. Still, everything had been perfect until her son walked in. Maybe they cou
ld be again once young Donnie went back to wherever he’d come from. Betty just panicked, that was all.

  “Hello.” The young man’s voice was cool but unfailingly polite.

  The scowl on Betty’s face as her son extended his hand in greeting was about as far from well-mannered as a pretty woman could possibly get. Taking the proffered hand, Will held Betty’s gaze for a second fraught with challenge before giving Donnie’s hand a firm shake.

  “Will Tarrant. Nice to meet you.”

  “This is my son, Donnie.”

  “Don,” the young man corrected. The second Will released his hand, Donnie turned his attention back to his mother. “I had to call Marjorie Watson to find out where you went.”

  “You had to call….” Betty’s soft voice sharpened as disbelief turned to outrage. “I called. I sent text messages.”

  “Dad cut off my cell.” Donnie’s tone might have matched hers if it weren’t for the hint of whine in his explanation.

  “I sent e-mail after e-mail. You never answered.” Defensiveness took some of the bite out of her words, but the hurt rang through loud and clear.

  “No internet access.”

  The urge to call bullshit was nearly overwhelming, but it wasn’t Will’s place. The need to protect and defend this woman made his blood practically simmer in his veins. Will curled his fingers into loose fists and entertained fantasies of knocking this scruffy man-child’s block clean off his shoulders.

  But Betty didn’t need him to fight her battle. She simply fixed young Donald Asher with another one of those killer mom glares. The kind he never imagined she had in her arsenal. The thought of this sensual, deliciously hedonistic woman as anyone’s mother still made his head spin. But oddly enough, he was starting to see it. He could definitely hear the edge of maternal steel when she spoke.

  “I find it difficult to believe you couldn’t have managed a collect call. After all, our home phone number didn’t change until last month.” Her voice was so cool and controlled Will almost shivered.

  “I didn’t want to talk to Dad.”

  “Your father has been dead for over a year.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have known that, would I? I’ve been out of the country.”

  “You just disappeared.” Betty threw her hands up in frustration. “Three weeks before graduation. We didn’t know if you were alive or dead until we got a call from your roommate saying you didn’t pay your half of the rent before you disappeared.” She planted those hands on her hips and tilted her chin up. “What happened to the rent money we gave you at the start of the semester?”

  The little shit had the balls to shrug her off. “I got a chance to travel with this group to El Salvador.”

  Her gorgeous eyes widened in horror. “El Salvador? In Central America? What hell were you doing in El Salvador?”

  “There was this girl. She was studying anthropology. They put together a group to go on this research trip.”

  “You were gone for almost three years!”

  Donnie shrugged again, as if that should have been all the answer anyone needed to pack up and take off without so much as a word to his parents. “A bunch of stuff happened.”

  Betty flushed a pink so bright Will would have found it delightful under any other circumstances, but the rigid line of her back and tense set of her jaw were getting him every bit as keyed up as she was. Needing to let her know there was someone who saw her side, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  She rejected his offer of comfort with a violent shake then rounded on him. “Do you mind? This is a private conversation.”

  Taken aback by her vehemence, Will bit down on the urge to remind her that they were holding their private conversation in the middle of his business offices. Instead, he lifted his hand from her shoulder and held them both aloft. “Pardon me.” Inhaling deep through his nose, he pivoted on his heel and stalked toward the kitchen and his office beyond. “Why don’t you go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon, Ms. Asher? It’s obvious you have some personal business to sort out.”

  “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  Her harshly spoken words stopped him dead in his tracks. In the space of five minutes he’d been cock-blocked, dumped, and dismissed. Not a good streak for a guy who was used to calling the shots.

  He drew a calming breath. Over and over again, he’d let this pretty little princess jerk his chain. No more. His blood went from a slow simmer to a steaming boil. His nails dug into the tender centers of his palms. He blinked twice, making sure he didn’t show anything more than the careful coolness he’d wear when facing even the most temperamental member of his crew.

  “I most certainly can,” he said quietly. “You go ahead. I’ll send your time sheet over to the agency.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and shot him a withering glare. “How? By carrier pigeon?”

  “I’ll fax it over,” he said, clinging to his last shred of calm.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Tarrant. The 1990s took your fax machine with them when they packed up the last of the Nirvana posters and grungy plaid shirts.”

  That last bit of sass did it. “My office. Now.”

  Without waiting to see if she’d follow, he stomped through the kitchen. He stopped just inside his office door and cocked his ear, eavesdropping shamelessly as Betty gave her son directions to Harter’s bakery and explicit instructions not to leave there until she had a chance to speak to him.

  Will took a deep breath then let it go slowly, unleashing some of the anger with it. Instinctively, he knew what Betty’s mama bear instincts wouldn’t let her see. His gut said that kid wasn’t planning to go anywhere until he got whatever it was he wanted from her. Most likely cash, judging by his raggedy clothes and gaunt cheeks.

  He heard the sound of the front door closing followed closely by the click of her heels on hardwood. He turned his back on the desk he’d dusted with her taut little body just days before and braced his feet wide against the onslaught he was sure was coming. Betty appeared in his doorway a second later.

  She braced her hands on the doorjamb then tipped her pert nose up in the air. “Are you really firing me?”

  They both knew he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. There was no way in hell he was going to be the one to jettison their relationship. She was the one trying to push him away.

  “Should I?”

  “No.”

  He exhaled slowly so she wouldn’t hear his relief. He was trapped. Somehow, after a lifetime of watching everything he said and every move he made, he’d stepped square into one of those snares females were so damn good at setting.

  And he didn’t care. He’d take her any way he could get her.

  Yes, he wanted to sleep with her—sleep, and make love to her—but it was more than that. He loved waking up with her. She was soft and warm and looked so damn cute with her hair all messed up and her eyes bleary. Vulnerable. Sweet. With his legs tangled with hers, he felt grounded. Just looking at her snuggled down in his pillows stripped a few of the wasted years off him, too. She was the woman he’d been waiting for all these years. She was his destiny, whether she liked it or not.

  Judging by the defiant glare she shot him, she definitely wasn’t liking her status at the moment. But even with her nose in the air and her arms crossed over her chest, she still looked oddly vulnerable standing there framed in his doorway. A part of him wanted to turn her over his knee and give her butt a blistering. But mostly he wanted to grab her and hug her. Hard.

  “We had an agreement, and I need this job, Will. We said no strings,” she reminded him. “I’m hoping you meant it.”

  Exhaling the last of his anger, he rolled his shoulders back and gave his head a tired shake. “I meant what I said. Go talk to your son. Find out what he wants.”

  “Will, I—” She wet her lips, and it was all he could do to keep from lunging for her.

  “It’s okay.”

  Lie. A total lie. None of
this was okay. He didn’t like the way she tied his feelings up in knots. He didn’t like having feelings at all, damn it. He’d managed to make it this far without any messy entanglements, and the woman standing in the doorway wringing her pretty hands was one big mess. Or, as she would say, a hot mess.

  In truth, though, he was a mess. She’d dumped him, but she wasn’t quitting the job or threatening to sue his ass off. He’d just had his ticket punched on a trifecta. He should be clicking his fucking heels. But he didn’t feel like it.

  She hesitated, glancing toward the front of the building, then back at him. “I just need to—”

  Swallowing the hard pit of regret lodged in his throat, he opened his palms and gave a helpless shrug. “Just go on, okay?”

  “Will….”

  Before he could brace himself, she was plastered against him. Her soft hair tickled his nose. Hot tears dampened his shirt front. He wrapped his arms around her as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to do. Maybe because it felt like it was. He held her there, stroking the silky waves she hadn’t bothered ironing that morning and absorbing the shuddering sobs that rolled up from deep inside her. Burying his lips in her hair, he murmured pure nonsense and held on tight. When she peeled herself away from him at last, he didn’t even try to hide his reluctance to let her go.

  “I just need this,” she said, her words muffled against his chest. “One more minute. I need you to hold me just another minute.”

  His chest tightened and his throat closed, but he managed to get a few thick words out. “As long as you need.”

  Scant seconds ticked past. All too soon for him, she pushed away, wiping at her cheeks with the pads of her fingers. She pressed those damp fingertips to his lips. He held his breath as sea-blue eyes searched his, hoping he had the answer she was looking for there. At last, she lowered her hand with a sigh. “I’m just so damn sick of being left.”

  Instinctively, he touched his tongue to her soft skin. The tang of salt snapped him from his stupor. “I’m not leaving you.”

  Her answering smile was tired and so sad it made his gut twist.

 

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