“Don’t worry about it,” I tell Sam. “For Emilia, this is quite a mild prank. Hell, it’s probably one of her lamest. I guess it’s the best she could do without time to prepare. Just pretend like you don’t know. I don’t care about the chair.”
All I care about is the smile she’s got on her face right now… the smile that I put on her face.
Chapter 31
Emilia
“How are you feeling, Daddy?”
He looks tired, and he’s really struggling to stay awake these days. He’s taking longer naps, and he seems less cheerful than he was a few weeks ago. Sam checks his equipment and questions his nurses, and Dad follows Sam’s movements with a frown on his face.
“I’m fine, Princess,” he says, but he doesn’t sound fine. My heart is breaking. I hate that I’m so helpless. That there isn’t anything I can do to help.
“I really am fine, Emilia,” Dad says, smiling at me. “Go on. Just go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, all right?”
I nod and look back at him one more time before walking out of his treatment room. I hate leaving him here by himself, but he seems uncomfortable having Sam around. I guess he doesn’t like looking weak, which is understandable. It doesn’t help that Sam keeps treating Dad like he’s one of his patients.
I walk into the bedroom that I’ve shared with Sam for the last week and a half and sigh. Sam smiles at me and pulls me closer. “Hey, we should just get an early night,” he murmurs, leaning in. I stiffen when he tries to kiss me and pull away from him.
Sam frowns. “What’s going on, Emilia? I get that you’re worried about your dad, but you won’t even kiss me. You haven’t even properly kissed me back once since I got here. We haven’t seen each other in weeks. Haven’t you missed me? Bloody hell, I’ve been dreaming about being in bed with you. Haven’t you?”
I’m filled with dread at the mere thought of it. I bite down on my lip and look away guiltily. “This is all just so strange to me,” I admit. “Seeing my dad lose more and more of his spirit every single day is killing me, and being in someone else’s house isn’t exactly helping. So no, I haven’t been dreaming about that.”
Sam looks at me angrily. “It’s Carter, isn’t it? I can’t even bloody blame you, because he’s Carter Clarke. The man is filthy rich, he’s handsome and quite a bit more muscular than I am, and he takes amazing care of your dad. Bloody hell, even I’d be in love with him.”
He runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “Just tell me that you’re mine, Emilia. Lie to me if you must, but tell me that you’re still mine. Tell me that you’re coming home with me when your dad recovers, and that whatever is going on here will stay here.”
I look at him with wide eyes. “What?” I whisper.
Sam grimaces, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this hurt. “I see the way you look at him, Emilia. You’ve never looked at me that way before. I see the way you two interact as though you can tell what the other is thinking, and you and I have never had that. It’s obvious that even your dad likes him better, and I can’t even fault him for it. I’m trying my best to help with his treatment, but that’s nothing compared to everything Carter has done for him.”
I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. “No, Sam. That just isn’t true,” I whisper, willing myself to believe it too.
“Isn’t it?” he murmurs. “Emilia, I saw you superglue a whoopee cushion to Carter’s dining room chair. I looked it up, just to be sure. Those chairs are two thousand dollars each. Carter just stood there and watched you do it, a smile on his face. What the hell is up with that? Since when do you play pranks like that? I’ve never seen you as giddy as you were while you were doing that. Not even once. You were so excited while you were destroying Carter’s property, and he let you. How can you tell me there isn’t anything going on? No sane man would ever let you do something as crazy as that — with a smile on his face. I don’t even recognize the person you are around Carter. You’re so different, and I hate it. Did you think I didn’t notice the inside jokes? The way you won’t even explain whatever the hell being outraged in Spanish even means?”
I stare at him wide-eyed. “I… I was just trying to get him back for a prank he pulled a little while ago. I’d gotten so busy with Dad that I forgot about it, but then I saw the bag from the toy store,” I ramble, trailing off.
Sam crosses his arms over each other and frowns. “What the hell are you even talking about? What could he possibly have done to warrant you destroying his property like that?”
I bite down on my lip and look away. “I… he… he’d changed the ringtone to my phone and then called me during a work meeting,” I murmur. It sounds stupid even to my own ears, and he’s right, I probably went too far with the prank I pulled in return.
“Are you crazy?” he shouts. “You did that because the guy changed your ringtone? What is wrong with you, Emilia? I don’t understand what has gotten into you. You weren’t this… crazy just a few months ago.”
He sighs and starts to pace. “You’re distant and you’re acting irrationally. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. It’s like you came here, and you turned into an entirely different person. You usually hate cooking, but here you make your dad lunch every single day, and you’re usually so serious, yet now you’re suddenly playing pranks. Pranks. You say you can’t sleep with me because you’re too worried about your dad, but you’re not too worried to play a fucking childish joke. It’s ridiculous.”
Sam runs his hand through his hair angrily and looks at me, his eyes flashing with disappointment. “How the hell did Carter even get into your phone? I don’t even know your code.”
I bite down on my lip and sigh. “He guessed it.”
Sam chuckles. “He guessed it? So, a guy that you haven’t seen in years knows you better than I do? Well, that’s just brilliant.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sam. Yes, he does know me well. We grew up together, after all. You’re telling me you hate who I am here, but what does that even mean, because for the first time in years I actually feel like myself.”
Sam sighs and shakes his head. “I’m just really confused. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m starting to wonder if the girl I fell for was ever even the real you at all.”
I’m starting to wonder the same thing. The girl that Sam loves, is that even the real me? Or is it just who I so desperately wanted to be?
Chapter 32
Emilia
Sam seems absentminded and hurt, and I hate that I did this to us. He’s barely spoken a word to me since our argument last night.
He’s right. I’ve become a different person here in Woodstock, and this isn’t what I wanted. I worked so hard to become the woman Sam is in love with, yet just a few weeks here in Woodstock have made me feel like a little girl all over again.
“How about I show you around town a little? We can do dinner tonight, if you fancy it? Just you and me,” I murmur.
Sam looks up at me, a spark of hope in his eyes, and my heart twists painfully. I’ve been neglecting him, I realize now. I’ve settled in so well in my life and my routine here that I haven’t paid him enough attention.
“That sounds brilliant,” he says, smiling. He walks up to me and cups my cheek gently, his lips brushing against my forehead. He kisses me so sweetly that my heart feels crushed. I feel so bad for not paying more attention to him, for not putting him first while he’s here.
“Come on,” I say, “let’s go.”
He grabs my hand and entwines our fingers as we make our way down the stairs, and I find myself tensing. Carter’s words ring through my mind, and a shiver runs down my spine. I don’t want him to ever have the honor of falling asleep with you. I don’t even want you smiling at him.
I bite down on my lip and shake my head, willing myself to stop thinking about Carter. I’m so lost in thought that I’m startled when Dad calls my name.
I turn to look at him, my eyes widening wh
en I realize Carter is standing next to him. His eyes fall to Sam’s hand holding mine, and he grits his teeth, anger flashing through his eyes.
“You heading out, sweetheart?” Dad asks, and I nod.
Sam grins at Dad and throws his arm around my shoulders. “Emilia is showing me around town, and we’re grabbing dinner later.”
Carter nods, his expression unreadable. “I’ll let Enzo know not to expect you two for dinner either,” he says, before turning to Dad. “He’ll just be cooking for you, then. Don’t even try to get him to cook anything you shouldn’t be eating. I’ll know.”
Dad smiles and shakes his head, the camaraderie between them heartwarming.
“Are you having dinner at your parents’ house?” I ask, and Carter’s eyes drop to Sam’s arm wrapped around my shoulder, before he looks up at me, shaking his head.
“No,” he says. “I’ve got a date.”
My heart drops and my stomach twists violently. I freeze and look up at him in disbelief before forcing a smile onto my face.
“Oh, have fun,” I say, unable to look him in the eye. Thoughts of him with Layla fill my head, and jealousy knots up my stomach.
“Ah, Emilia did tell me that you have a girlfriend,” Sam says. “I’d love to meet her at some point.”
I bite down on my lip hard and stare at the floor, willing myself to gather my thoughts. This is for the best. I should be happy for him.
“Will you be okay having dinner by yourself?” Sam asks Dad.
Dad huffs and waves us off. “I’m not a child,” he says, his tone offended, and I smile at Dad.
“We’ll see you later, all right?” I murmur, just wanting to get out of here already.
“Everything okay?” Sam asks as we get into the car.
I nod at him and smile. “I don’t like the idea of Dad being by himself,” I end up saying, lying, covering for my true feelings.
Sam nods in understanding. “We won’t make it a late night.”
I nod and drive us to my old high school, wanting to show Sam some of the places I spent most of my time at growing up.
I park in front of the building and smile, memory after memory filling my mind. I try to think of some stories to tell Sam, but every single one of my memories involves either Carter or Kate. In the end, I end up driving us around town, pointing out various places, but not a single one isn’t connected to the Clarkes.
By the time I pull up at the restaurant I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted. Sam smiles at me and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“That was fun,” he says. “Seeing this town through your eyes.”
I smile at him, relieved that he couldn’t tell how distraught I was.
Sam holds my hand as we walk into the restaurant, and he seems excited as we wait for the waitress to seat us. This is exactly what we needed, just a bit of quality time. If only I could give Sam all my attention mentally too.
I smile at the waitress as she leads us to our seats, and Sam looks around happily. As we sit down, I finally relax. This restaurant… this is one of the few places where I don’t have memories with Carter. When we were younger, we could never really afford to come here.
Sam reaches for my hand over the table as he checks out the menu, and I smile. He needs to be my focus tonight.
My smile drops when I see a familiar figure approach from the corner of my eyes, and my heart sinks when my eyes find Carter’s.
I blink in surprise, my mind barely comprehending him being here. It’s not me he’s looking at, though. No, it’s Layla he’s with. It’s Layla’s hand that’s nestled in his, it’s her he’s smiling at.
Carter pulls Layla’s chair out for her, and she grins up at him. He’s looking at her like she’s all he can see, and it wrecks me. It kills me to see him looking at her the way he used to look at me. My heart twists painfully and I feel sick. It takes all of me to pull my gaze away and pretend I didn’t see him, but unfortunately for me, the waitress seats them right in front of us, my view unobstructed. Layla’s back is to me, but I can see Carter clearly.
“Everything okay?” Sam asks. I blink and nod, but I’ve clearly taken too long to respond, because Sam turns around and sees Carter.
The two of them nod at each other, and Carter looks at me, his expression blank. He smiles politely, as though I’m yet another acquaintance, and then he turns back to Layla, dismissing me.
“Small towns, huh?” Sam says, shaking his head. He asks me what I want to eat and walks me through some of the dishes he thinks sound interesting, but all I can focus on is Carter.
I watch as Layla leans back in her seat and slips her foot out of her high heeled stiletto. From this angle I can see the lone shoe between the legs of her chair, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where her foot might be. I watch Carter’s face as his eyes widen and he smirks at Layla, his eyes twinkling.
I feel sick as I tear my eyes away. He’s going home with her, I just know it. Worse yet, he might bring her back to his house. I bite down on my lip so hard that I end up drawing blood, and I inhale deeply as I try my best to stay calm.
I barely eat more than three bites throughout dinner, but somehow, I manage to have a conversation with Sam. Somehow, I manage to keep him from suspecting that something is wrong.
My heart is hurting so badly by the time that dinner wraps up that I’m surprised I’m still able to smile at Sam. He looks happy and content, and that’s all that should matter.
We rise from our seats, and I can feel Carter’s eyes on me. Sam wraps his arm around my waist and leans in for a kiss. I freeze, my eyes finding Carter.
It’s not me he’s looking at, though. It’s Layla. He looks up at me just as I let my eyes fall closed and kiss Sam back, properly, for the first time since he got here.
Chapter 33
Carter
Graham nods at me politely as I step out of the car, and I need to remember to give the guy a bonus. He didn’t even blink twice when I asked him to pick me up at the local bar way past his working hours.
I inhale deeply and walk into the house, needing another fucking drink. Though I doubt that’ll burn away the image of Emilia kissing Sam. I shouldn’t have provoked her. I shouldn’t have pushed her into his arms.
I walk into the living room, my mind torturing me with scenario after scenario of what Emilia and Sam must have done after they got home. I saw the look in her eyes when she saw me with Layla. I saw the shock, the pain, and eventually, the determination. I know what my Minx is like. My impulsive jealous actions today will cost me everything. I never should have called Layla. It wasn’t her I wanted anyway. All I could see all night was Emilia.
I run a hand through my hair and walk straight to the liquor cart in the corner, pouring myself a drink. I’m surprised when I notice movement from the corner of my eye, and I turn to find Emilia standing in the doorway. My eyes roam over her body and I grit my teeth. She looks fucking sexy in that nightgown, and I know it isn’t for me.
“If you’re standing here right now, you clearly weren’t fucked good enough, hard enough. Your little boyfriend not cutting it?” I say, my tone biting.
Emilia’s eyes roam over my body, lingering on my clothes, as though she’s checking whether everything is still properly in place. I see insecurity in her eyes, and right at this second, I hate it. I hate that she keeps giving me hope, that she keeps making me think she still has feelings for me too.
“If you’re home now Layla clearly isn’t cutting it either,” she says.
I laugh and look up at the clock. “It’s two in the morning. Who says I didn’t just spend hours fucking her brains out?”
She walks up to me, her eyes flashing with an emotion I can’t quite place. “So you need to be drunk to fuck her? Interesting.”
I grit my teeth and pull her closer, my hand threading through her hair. “Maybe I do. Maybe a drink or two makes it easier to pretend she’s you. Maybe I just sank my dick deep inside her, all the while imagining it was you I was
fucking.”
I laugh mirthlessly. “Or maybe I just wanted to get laid, Emilia. Maybe I just wanted to spend a night with a woman who actually wants me. Who isn’t dating someone else, who isn’t playing with my fucking feelings.”
I tighten my grip on her hair and pull her closer, her face so close to mine that I could easily lean down and kiss her. “Either way, why would you even care who I fuck, Emilia? I saw the way you kissed Sam tonight. I saw the way he touched you, the look in his eyes. Did you want him? Did you spread your legs for him tonight?”
My eyes drop down to her nightgown and I trace the edge of her strap with my fingers. “This sexy little thing you’re wearing, is that all for him?” I ask, my voice breaking. “If you were mine, you’d be too fucking exhausted to be up and about now. You never would’ve even gotten round to putting on a nightgown, because you’d have fallen asleep in my arms.”
Emilia looks at me with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “I’d rip that dress you were wearing off you the second I got you alone, leaving you standing there in nothing but your underwear and your heels. I’d kis you until your lips are all swollen and you’re panting, needy. I’d undo your bra, letting it fall to the floor, and your nipples would already be hard, ready for my lips.”
I tilt her head up so she’s looking into my eyes, and part of me feels vindicated when I see desire in her eyes. “My mouth would be hot and wet on your skin, and you’d moan for me, a shiver running down your spine. You’d already be wet by the time my fingers push your underwear aside to give you a taste of what is to come.”
She’s panting and I press her against the wall, my cock pressed up against her stomach. I’m so fucking hard that it hurts.
“I’d sit you down and drop to my knees, my tongue finding its way between your legs. I’d make you come just like that, with your hands in my hair and my name on your lips. And that’d be just the start of what I’d do to you.”
The Ruins Of Us (Mayhem Book 3) Page 13
