by Carina Adams
I moved my attention back to the couple and tried not to let anyone else see my pain. Unfortunately, I met Roman’s eyes. His face clouded over, as if he could right feel my heartache and it hurt him, too. I swallowed and looked away. He could have told me at Perk Up.
The MacGregor caught my eye. He stood on the sidelines, whisky in hand, silent and watchful. His eyes bounced to Roman. Then to Reid. And back to me.
Worried he might see more than he should, I started to back out of the room. Seamus lifted his whiskey tumbler, but my hands were frozen at my sides. “May my son have the good sense to buy his future wife a warm pair of boots so her feet won’t get cold this time.” He chuckled. “Sláinte.”
“Sláinte,” the room echoed as one.
“Have you set a date?” I couldn’t see who asked the question, but I tensed in anticipation of the answer.
Brooke’s smile was huge. “The third week in May. The week after I graduate.”
I reached out to steady myself against the wall. No. He wouldn’t do that. It must be a mistake. When he didn’t correct her, I knew it wasn’t.
I was out the door before anyone could realize I was gone. I headed toward the room Reid and I had been given, then thought better of it, and retreated to the opposite end of the house, away from everyone. I needed a few minutes to digest the information.
I hid in the homey addition where I’d danced the first time. The doors had been opened onto the terrace that night, making it seem larger than it was. Now the room was closed up for winter, two walls of glass gave a glorious view of the snow-covered fields beyond, and a fire burned cheerfully in the pot-belly stove in the corner, to offset the cold.
I walked around the room for a few minutes, marveling in the beauty. There were just as many homemade children’s crafts as there were priceless family heirlooms, and that made me smile. And everywhere I looked, there were pictures—many of Roman and Reid. There were also really creepy porcelain baby dolls that freaked me out.
I snatched up a picture of the two men I loved and moved toward the door. I didn’t want to go out in the frigid temps, but leaned my shoulder against the cool glass in hopes it would help calm my inner turmoil. It was silly, my reaction. Roman had never been mine. He was free to marry whomever he wanted.
“Trying to plan your escape?”
I turned away from the window and faced the MacGregor. “It felt like a family moment and I didn’t want to intrude. So, I just started wandering.”
“You don’t have to explain. You’re our guest.”
I gave him a small smile. I liked Rome’s granddad, but I never knew how to act around him. I pointed outside. “I wanted to see the gloaming. It’s my favorite time of day.”
“The gloaming?” He asked as he joined me.
“It’s those few minutes after sunset, right before the darkness descends. It’s a moment of perfect harmony. Balance.”
“The time where you get ready to say goodbye to your light and embrace the shadows.”
“Yes.”
“That’s very symbolic, isn’t it?”
No words were needed. I nodded anyway. The gloaming was my favorite because for those last few minutes of sunshine I could remember how great things had been, how good they would be again, before the shadows came and took it all away.
“You’re a good match for him.”
I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. “Thank you. Reid is a rare catch. I’m lucky.”
“I meant Roman, Ruffles.”
I turned toward him, yet he lifted one shoulder in a hapless shrug. Roman had told me that his grandparents knew about Soiree, but that the dancer’s identities were kept under lock and key.
“Your secret is safe with me,” the old man assured me. “Not that my wife would care. Her mother was a flapper. She cut her hair and danced in a jazz club, wearing dresses that fell just below the knee. It was very wicked, something young women of the time never did. Then again, my own mum never wore a dress a day in her adult life, not even when I took the Oath of Office.” He smiled. “You’ll find no judgment here. Unless you don’t drink whiskey.”
I fought a smile. The man was definitely a charmer. “Well, at least I didn’t have to cut my hair.”
He chuckled. Then sighed. “Don’t be too hard on him. Men in love do stupid things. Especially the MacGregors. For instance, some quit their job and move away.”
That’s why Rome was leaving. Brooke hated Soiree. She despised his job.
“Sometimes we say things with actions instead of words. However, you can always tell our true feelings by looking deeper.”
He lifted a hand and patted me on the shoulder. Just as Roman joined us.
“I thought I might find you in here.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or his grandfather.
“I was just leaving,” The MacGregor gave me a small smile and disappeared without another word.
Roman stood there, staring at me, so I turned my attention back to the scene on the other side of the window. I felt him move next to me, but I didn’t look, too engrossed in the way the moon reflected on the icy crust outside, and the way the shadows danced as the trees rocked in the wind.
“It’s beautiful,” I sighed.
“It is,” Roman agreed. I could feel his eyes on me, not on the scene outside.
I remembered my manners too late. I glanced up at him and forced myself to smile. “Congratulations.”
I moved to the closest chair and fell into it.
“It all happened really fast,” he crouched next to my chair. “I didn’t know she was coming tonight, or I would have told you.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m just some girl you used to work with.”
“Don’t. We don’t lie to each other, so let’s not start lying to ourselves, either.” He reached out and took the framed photo from my hands. He smiled down at it. “When I was young, my family just kind of adopted Reid. He’s always been my brother. When we were teenagers, I used to hope that we’d find out he really was a MacGregor. He isn’t. But I wanted him to be.”
“Why?”
“Because it would have made things easier. I wouldn’t feel bad about wanting what was his.”
He replaced the picture with a wrapped box I hadn’t seen him carry in.
I frowned. “You already got me a present.”
He pointed at the package with his chin. “Open it.”
I discarded the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a large, sealed envelope. I looked up and waited for an explanation.
He cleared his throat. “Being with you, spending time with you, let me find a piece of myself I’d forgotten was missing. I wanted to give you that.” He tapped the packet with a fingertip. “It’s your dad.”
I did a double take.
“I had a private investigator find him a few months ago. Anything and everything you’ve ever wanted to know about him is in there.”
“You didn’t open it.”
He shook his head. “No. I didn’t want to know if you didn’t.”
I dropped the package and threw my arms around his neck. His closed around me, a vice grip, as he held me tight. I buried my head in the nape of his neck and didn’t want to ever let go.
He belonged to someone else, so I pulled away. “Thank you.”
“You can open it. Or not. It’s up to you. I just wanted you to have it. If you want to talk once you do…” he trailed off and we sat there, looking at each other, still too close.
“Roman?” Brooke’s voice broke through my daze and I sat back as came into the room.
“Cady. I didn’t know you were here.” There was no surprise in her voice. She’d known.
I stood and offered her a wave. “Yep. Reid and I got here earlier.”
I’d once considered Brooke my friend. I wasn’t sure why, but she’d pulled away all semester until it got to the point where we barely spoke even for our group projects. I hoped, for Roman’s sake, the two of us could at least be cordial.<
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She held out her left hand and wiggled her fingers. “Did you see?”
I glanced at the large stone. “Congratulations.”
Her face wrinkled, as if she’d just realized something. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Another lie.
“She’s dating my best friend,” Roman reminded her.
“Ah, yes. For now.” Before either of us could respond, she pointed to the packet on the floor by my feet. “What’s that?”
Jesus, she was nosey. I snatched the packet as she reached for it.
“Back off Brooke.” Rome snapped. “This isn’t your house. Cady doesn’t owe you any explanation.”
Her face turned red and her eyes went wild in anger. For a moment, I expected her to channel the Wicked Witch of the West and turn green. Roman sidestepped in front of me as if to protect me.
“Yo, Rome!” One of the cousins yelled from the door. “You better get out here, man. It’s Alastair.”
Roman didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Brooke’s arm and dragged her along with him. I gave them a few seconds head start and then followed.
I heard the shouting first, but it was muffled, almost as if it was far away. Roman swore, let go of Brooke, and ran for the front door. I jogged behind, my present clutched to my chest, worried Reid had finally lost all control and beat the other man senseless.
I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but seeing Violet in the driveway was a surprise. An even bigger shock was that the yelling was coming from the older adults as they screamed at and over each other. The MacGregor tried to get it under control, but nothing he did worked.
Roman pushed through the crowd toward Reid, who stood in a small clearing to the side, barely able to restrain an enraged Andy. Alastair was a few feet away—not being held back, but protected—by another cousin.
“What in the hell is going on?” Rome yelled, but no one paid any attention.
“I’m going to kick his fucking ass,” roared Andy before he pointed at his brother. “Get in your over-priced girly car and go back to Washington. Or you’ll go back looking like you got mugged.”
“Is that your problem, little brother? I have the things you say you hate, a life you make fun of, and I got the woman you want without paying for her time. You’ve always been a jealous little prick. Tell ya what, I’ll let you take her for a spin once I’m don—,” his words were cut off by Roman’s fist.
He hit him again. And a third time before Reid pulled him off. Chaos erupted.
Violet started to sob, completely devastated. Andy grabbed her, scooped her into his arms, and carried her away before I could get to her. Brooke rushed to Roman as he stood over his cousin and shook out his fist. I lost sight of Reid. The older adults screamed at each other, oblivious to the fight they’d just missed. The MacGregor grabbed his sons by the collar and shook them like they were ragdolls. Nana grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.
Hunter appeared next to me. “This was the coolest Christmas ever,” he snorted. “Can we spend every year here?”
No. Next year we’d celebrate the day in the quiet that was home. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go back to the MacGregor Inn, ever.
It would always be the place where I met Reid and started to fall in love with Roman. Yet, it was also the place where the darkness descended and I had to face reality. Some things can’t be wrapped up in a neat little bow.
Thirty-Eight
Roman
Five Months Later
“You did not plan my bachelor party at Sway,” I yelled over the music as the stretch Hummer pulled up outside my club.
“Hells, yeah, I did.” Andy laughed as he pulled the mask down over his eyes. “You should come here more often. See how the other side lives.”
I sighed as the door to the limo opened and my friends and family piled out. I spent sixty hours a week inside those doors. I didn’t nee to see if from a customer’s eyes.
My stomach filled with dread and I just wanted the night to be over. It was bad enough that Brooke had insisted we both had to participate in the outdated tradition. Then, she’d gone on to stipulate both parties had to be held on the same night—the Thursday before the wedding.
It had been a busy month, and I’d barely had time to think, let alone prepare for the wedding. I understand her reasons—guest had traveled up for the wedding, so they could come enjoin our last party as single people. But I’d spent the whole damn day getting Sway ready for the big show happening over the weakened and I was tired.
My grandfather waited for me on the sidewalk. “The groom should never be the last one inside. It’s bad luck.”
“Why, because he might run?” I snorted. “How about, ‘the groom should never go to the club he works at two nights before he gets married. It’s bad luck.’”
The MacGregor chuckled and pulled his mask over his eyes. “Put on your mask. No one here knows you tonight.”
The bastard had booked the VIP area but not told anyone it was for me, thankfully. I was sure Daisy would recognize me when she stopped to check on us, but she only smiled in my direction politely, as if she hadn’t spent an hour in my office earlier going over plans for my absence. Our waitress was excellent, the drinks strong, and DJ on point. I was proud of my employees.
We laughed, drank, and some of them attempted to dance. Yet, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
I watched the groups of women that came in. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Brooke and her friends had shown up. But, none of them looked familiar.
I finished off my fourth, maybe fifth, drink and headed for the bathroom. Preston, a security guard that I’d hired, blocked me. “Can I help you, sir?”
I glared at him as I pointed toward my office. “I’m just using the bathroom.”
He held up his own hand and pointed behind me. “There are additional restrooms over there.”
Like hell was I going to use the guest bathroom when my private lavatory was around the damn corner. “I’m just taking a leak, Preston.”
To his credit, he never got mad. “And we encourage you do so. In the guest bathroom.”
I turned around and grumbled all the way to the bathroom. Thankfully, there wasn’t a line. Right above the urinal, though, was a poster promoting the Whiskey Girls upcoming show. I stood there, holding my dick like a loser, and stared open-mouthed.
I hadn’t seen the posters. I’d made a point to avoid them. Now I regretted that decision because I wanted to search the entire city and tear down every single one.
Artistically, they were beautiful. Eye catching. Ruffles McGee was lying back on the hood of a car, wearing unbuttoned jean cutoffs and a tank top that had been pulled up onto her chest, exposing her breasts. Her dark hair had been left curly and wild, and while I couldn’t see her face, I knew it was my crazy girl. I’d have known that body anywhere.
Thick thighs, a soft belly hidden by the way she’d stretched, and prefect handful- sized breasts. The artist had given the entire poster a rose gold color, which made Cady’s skin look bronzed. Fuck, me. I wanted her
I needed to talk to her, to hear her voice. I shook off, tucked myself back in, washed and grabbed my cellphone. I snuck into one of the open stalls, pissed when I closed the door and found her body on display on the back of the door—for anyone who wanted to jack off.
I scrolled until I found her picture.
She answered on the third ring. “Hey. You okay?”
“Are you alone?” I smacked myself in the forehead with the butt of my hand.
“Are you drunk?” She countered with a little laugh.
“Define drunk.”
She groaned, annoyed, and I heard her roll over in bed. “Roman, it’s after midnight. I have to work tomorrow. The only reason I answered was because I thought there was something wrong. As long as you’re okay, I’m hanging up.”
“Is Reid there?”
“You know we don’t live together,” she snapped. “You want him, you call him.”
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“He’s not here.” I explained.
“Not where?”
“My bachelor party.”
“Oh,” she sounded confused, like she hadn’t known it was tonight. He must have told her. “You need to call him.”
“I miss you.” I muttered. “I miss him.”
“We haven’t gone anywhere. We’re still here, holding down the fort. If you miss us, you know where to find us.”
“I saw the poster.” I swallowed and searched for words. “Its amazing. I never would have let them use that photo.”
“They were going for edgy. And wanted to move away from traditional burlesque to get appeal to a greater market. You should see Frankie’s,” she chuckled. “My outfit is tame compared to most of my costumes.”
“I hate most of them, too. I want to be the only one who sees that side of you.”
“Okay,” she sighed, “that’s my cue. Go have fun with your guests.”
“I don’t want to. I want to talk to you.”
“Why?”
Because I love you. I made a mistake. I hate my life without you in it every day. Instead, I didn’t answer.
“You’re getting married in two days.”
“Don’t.” I didn’t want to talk about the wedding. Or Brooke.
“You are, right?”
I clenched my jaw. “Yeah.” My eyes stared at the poster. Whisky Girls, your dirty little secrets. “But you, Ruffles McGee, can’t belong to them. Because you’re mine. You always will be. I own you. My greatest mistake, my deepest regret.”
“I was never yours, Roman. I was Reid’s. Remember? You decided for all of us.”
“Stop.”
“It’s the truth.”
“No. It’s one part of the truth. This thing between us doesn’t end just because we say it’s over.”
“It was over before it started. You’re going to be someone else’s husband.” I hated the hurt in her voice. I didn’t want to be reminded of what was coming.
“And you’re still going to be the woman who takes off her clothes for money. You think those men aren’t married? Those guests you cozy up to—you think they’re all single? Guess it’s okay as long as you’re making a buck or two.” I flinched as soon as the words were out. I hadn’t meant it. Not a word.
