by Linde, K. A.
Against her better judgment she typed in the number.
Her heart hammered in her chest and her body warmed despite the ever-cooling temperatures. She walked briskly across the leaf-strewn sidewalk with her phone pressed tightly to her ear. She chanced a glance behind her to confirm that the door to the Union was still sealed shut. Hayden hadn’t left. He wasn’t going to follow her. He wasn’t running after her.
“Congressman Maxwell’s office.”
Liz felt a rush of adrenaline pump through her body as she remembered their summer exploits and the thrill of being someone else for a while. She hadn’t thought that this number would be working any longer. But he must have kept a local office open in the district for when he was here on business. Still, it shocked her a little.
“Yes,” she said her voice shaky. “I’m trying to reach the Congressman. Is he in this evening?”
Her hands trembled. It had been a while since she had done this. She knew it was a long shot, but maybe they could connect her with the D.C. office. It was invigorating and terrifying how much she reveled in the rebellion.
“Yes, he’s in, but the Congressman is occupied. May I take a message?”
Liz’s heart leaped. He was here . . . in North Carolina. At least, that was what she assumed the lady meant.
“Can you tell him Sandy Carmichael is on the line,” she murmured, the strength renewed in her voice.
The woman paused. “Yes, Ms. Carmichael. Please hold.”
Liz chewed on her lips as she waited. The wind picked up and tore through her hair, whipping it into her eyes. She tried to brush it out of her face, but the wind was relentless. She could empathize with its ferocity tonight.
Jogging the last few feet in her knee-high brown boots, Liz made it to her car and quickly ducked inside out of the cold. She was still shivering as she waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. Would he answer? She hadn’t spoken to him since her birthday in April, and it was now the end of October. Had she made a mistake in calling?
The clock told her it was only nine o’clock. Last summer felt like so long ago. Just as her mind drifted to nights at his lake house, stolen nights in hotel rooms, and fancy cocktail dinners, where mere looks across the room were enough to push them into deliriously dangerous circumstances, the line clicked over.
“The Congressman will be right with you,” the woman said, pausing briefly, before adding, “Ms. Carmichael.”
A second later, Liz heard a buzz on the line. Her heart leaped out of her chest with anticipation, and she felt a stirring between her thighs. She was already turned on, and she hadn’t even heard his voice. It was wrong, so wrong that just a buzz on the other line could make her throb. She didn’t want to admit that the waiting riled her up as much as he did. She had tried to forget all of these things.
“Sandy?” Brady’s intoxicating voice murmured the name they had always used in public. She almost groaned aloud at the seductive quality it carried. He didn’t talk like this on the radio. She started to squirm and pressed her legs together.
“Brady.” She sighed into the phone, forgetting all of her worries with the sound of his voice. She slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes, remembering easier times.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice showing what she knew was a hint of desperation. She hadn’t called in months; of course he would be concerned.
Or would he? God, she didn’t know right now. All she knew was that she wanted to forget her argument with Hayden. She wanted to get lost in Brady. If all she could have was his voice to soothe her aches, then she would take it.
“Yeah . . .” Tears fell down her cheeks unbidden. Where had they come from? How had just his voice opened the floodgates? She choked back a sob, bringing her knees up to her chest. She was overreacting. She knew it, but it all felt like too much with Hayden right then. She wanted something . . . else.
“Where are you?” he demanded.
“At the newspaper,” she choked out.
“I’m coming to get you.”
“What?” she cried jumping out of her seat, her legs smacking the steering wheel.
“You don’t call me crying in the middle of the night after not speaking with me for months, and then tell me I can’t see you. I can’t handle it, Liz,” he growled. She gasped lightly at the way he said her name. “I said I’m coming to get you.”
The phone went dead in her hand.
Chapter 16
NOTHING ELSE EVER HAD
Liz crashed back heavily into her seat.
What had she done? Brady couldn’t come here. Over a year had passed since they had last been together like that. She felt as if she was losing her mind even considering it.
Her head snapped to the still-closed newspaper door. Hayden was inside. He had acted like a total asshole and pushed her away. The way he had treated her was completely unacceptable and it just set her off. How could he act like that after the last year? She was clearly motivated, independent, hardworking, and a dozen or so other power adjectives. The thought of him saying otherwise to her just infuriated her further.
She ground her teeth together. She had to make up her mind. If she decided to go with Brady, then she needed to move her car. Hayden would know something was wrong if it was still parked in the lot after she had told him she was leaving. And at the moment the last thing she wanted to do was talk to him.
Liz turned over the engine without thinking more about the consequences of her actions and drove her car into the parking deck. It was located behind a row of dorms off the back of the Union, which was good, because Hayden would never think to check there. The only problem was that she couldn’t see the main newspaper parking lot from her new location.
That was where she had told Brady she would be, so unfortunately it looked as if she would have to suffer through the cold again. Liz didn’t understand how it felt like a winter storm was about to rip through North Carolina any second when it was only October. It didn’t help that she had mistakenly left her jacket in the office. Rummaging through her backseat, she found a Patagonia pullover, threw that over her button-down, and added a pair of gloves out of the glove compartment.
As she eased the door open, the wind whistled through the opening, stinging her eyes. It was too damn cold.
Grunting, Liz shoved the door open all the way and locked her car up tight. She walked briskly across the pavement and took a seat on the damp hill that led to the Union. From her vantage point she could see everything—the main parking lot, the newspaper entrance, the entrance where she would anticipate Brady . . . if he actually showed.
Light streamed out of the back entrance to the Union and Liz’s eyes darted to the brick building partially obscured by century-old trees. Hayden walked out and into a circle of light from overhead. He ran his hands back through his hair and looked disgruntled . . . maybe even pissed off. She had never quite seen him look like that. It was sexy, and that made her angry. They wouldn’t even be in this position if he wasn’t acting like such an idiot.
She didn’t want to watch him, but at the same time she couldn’t tear her eyes away. It was like watching someone else. A stranger. Her Hayden was always calm and collected.
He held the door propped open, clearly lost in deep thought. Liz narrowed her eyes as he reached into his pocket. She watched him pull something out, but he had turned partially away from her, so she couldn’t see what it was. As she tried to figure it out, her phone buzzed next to her. She jumped and grabbed at her cell phone, not wanting him to notice the light in the distance.
Liz debated answering it, but after a second she silenced it. She didn’t really want to talk to Hayden right now.
The call ended. She watched him hang up the phone and place it back into his pocket.
After a second he dug something out of his other pocket. In shock, she watched the Zippo lighter from across the pa
rking lot as the cigarette flared to life in his hand. Her mouth was hanging open as he took a long drag from the cigarette, breathing in deeply. His chest expanded and his head dipped back ever so slightly, as if he had just tasted a piece of heaven.
Her mouth went dry. This wasn’t Hayden. He would never smoke. He abhorred the dirty habit. Christ, he was a runner! How the hell could he run for miles if he had cigarette smoke clogging his lungs?
She watched, completely astonished, as he drew another long drag on the cigarette before almost viciously throwing it off to the side. His hands visibly shook before fisting angrily into his hair. She could have sworn he cursed, but she couldn’t hear him against the howling wind.
His hands fell out of his hair, but stayed in fists and slammed uselessly against the metal door. Violent. Not a word that she would have ever used to describe Hayden. He shook out his fists, seeming only to grow angrier.
Clearly debating with himself, he pushed the newspaper door closed before storming across the parking lot to his car. The lights to his Audi came to life right before he recklessly peeled out of the parking lot.
His car disappeared, and she felt as numb as the cold surrounding her.
Their argument was spiraling further and further out of control. She could see the pieces of the puzzle laid out before her as to how to fix this situation, but instead of moving them into place she tossed them off to the side. She stood up. Today she was bereft of the willingness to make it right.
And she was strangely okay with it all. Of course, she was shaken by Hayden’s reaction. What was he doing with cigarettes in his pocket? That wasn’t some freak accident. He’d had them with him. How long had he been hiding it from her? It made her wonder what else he was lying about, and made her sick to think about what had transpired between them. Yet, despite that, she couldn’t help but want him to suffer for how he had treated her. Her heart contracted, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.
Headlights blazed across the now empty parking lot, and Liz scrambled to her feet, brushing the crumpled leaves from the dark denim of her jeans. Her feet carried her down the hill, across the street, and out into the open lot. Her body was warming for a reason that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the anticipation of seeing Brady, being alone with Brady.
Brady. What the hell was she going to say when she saw him? So much time had passed. How would he even react? The last time she had seen him, he had told her to just stay out of his life. The last time they had talked, he had said that he would fly from D.C. to see her. She didn’t know which Brady she would see tonight. It made her stomach knot in anticipation.
His black Lexus slid evenly across the black pavement straight toward her, the bright lights the indication of his approach. She didn’t even notice until it glided right up to her that her hands were shaking.
The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing the all-black leather interior that she had spent a good deal of time in. She glanced around anxiously even though she knew that the only other person nearby had left in a rage minutes beforehand.
“Hey,” she murmured softly, leaning forward through the window and getting her first up-close look at Brady in what felt like a lifetime. He was flawless. It was undeniable. Whatever had gone on between them, whatever had ended it all—it didn’t change how attracted she was to him. How attracted she had always been to him.
“Get in the car,” he said, unlocking the doors.
“Brady . . .” She trailed off. She couldn’t believe that he was here right now. She couldn’t believe she was staring at this beautiful face and that she was talking to him. She couldn’t believe she’d had the guts to call him and that he was here. She just wanted to stare at him, but instead she said the only thing that she could muster enough courage to say: “I don’t think we should do this.”
“Get in the car.”
“Look, it’s not a good idea. I’m really messed up. Calling you was impulsive and thoughtless of me. I shouldn’t have freaked you out. But driving away with you right now would be even worse,” she told him, hugging herself tightly. All she wanted to do was say the exact opposite of what was coming out of her mouth. She wanted to drive off into the sunset with him and never look back. She always had.
“Get in the car, Liz.”
“I’m still dating him, Brady. Think about what you would feel if you were him. Think about how much it would hurt if he knew about this—about what I’m thinking of doing,” she said even softer than before, her whole body nearly trembling with the anxiety.
“Liz,” he growled. “Get. In. The. Car.”
“I can’t. I just can’t get in the car with you,” she said. She made the mistake then of lifting her eyes to meet his deep chocolate orbs. Fuck! His eyes were so intense and commanding. She just wanted to get lost in those eyes forever. She swallowed hard and licked her bottom lip. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Goddamn it, Liz. Get in the car!” he yelled. “I didn’t get out of my meetings for the night and drive thirty minutes out of the way for you to tell me to go home. Now get in the car.”
“Seriously, shut up,” she cried, pushing off of the car door. “I made a mistake. People make mistakes.” The car jerked into park and he popped the driver’s-side door open. “What are you doing?”
“I said get in the car, Liz, and you’re going to listen one way or another,” he said, walking around the front of the car.
“What the fuck does that mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you. I’m not in the right frame of mind tonight, and being around you is a bad idea.”
“I like bad ideas,” he said, standing before her.
“Well, I don’t!”
Brady shook his head, a gorgeous smile replacing the glare he had been shooting at her. Dear Lord, he was too attractive for his own good. She could hardly even concentrate when she looked up at that face. Liz tried to find her words again to tell him to leave, but in that moment, he moved forward and stood a mere inch away from her. She could feel his body heat radiating toward her. She stood ramrod still at his nearness. He moved forward as if he was going to touch her, and then at the last second he pivoted quickly and threw her easily over his shoulder.
She screamed in protest, completely caught off guard. “What are you doing? Brady Maxwell, put me down. Put me down now!”
“I told you to listen, and you didn’t.” His arm held the back of her legs easily in place to keep her from moving as he opened the back door of his Lexus.
“I didn’t think you were going to act like a caveman,” she said, muffled in the back of his suit coat.
“Well, now you know better, huh?” he asked, tossing her into the backseat and slamming the door shut in her face.
Liz reached for the door, yanking the handle back and forth uselessly. “You have fucking child locks on these doors?” she screamed into the empty car as he slowly strolled back to the driver’s side.
She shoved her entire body into the movement anyway, wrenching her shoulder with the extra effort. Releasing the handle, she fell backward, the cool leather cushioning her body upon impact. She quickly righted herself and climbed into the front just as Brady eased into his seat.
“I can’t believe you!” she yelled, sliding her body into the passenger seat and reaching for the door. Pulling the handle several times in frustration, she discovered it too was locked. She moved to grab the lock and pull it up, but Brady’s hand caught her wrist and put it back at her side. “Seriously?”
Brady smirked. “You should have gotten in the car from the beginning.”
“You’re kidnapping me,” she growled, glaring at him.
“Listen here,” he said, reaching across her body to grab her hands. She tried to pull away from him, but he held her hard and fast, pressing her back into the seat. “I want you to remember that you called me cryin
g in the middle of the night,” he growled. “You were the one who used that line. You were the one who used that name. You were the one who fell back into old methods. So don’t you fucking pull this shit on me. Did you or did you not call as Sandy Carmichael?”
He waited.
“Yes,” she grumbled through gritted teeth.
“Did you or did you not typically call that line for me to fuck you?”
He waited again.
She tilted her head up and refused to look at him. She was not going to have this conversation right now.
“Liz,” he growled, tightening his grip on her hands.
“Yes,” she yelped. Well, sort of.
“Then stop acting crazy. I don’t have time for this. I’m going to let your hands go, and you are going to act like a normal person again. Are you ready?”
She nodded her head with as much dignity as she could manage as he let her hands go and put the car into drive. Liz didn’t say anything as he pulled away from the newspaper. She was fuming. First Hayden’s accusations, and then when Brady showed up he acted like a maniac. She really should have just gone home and cried into her pillow.
Except now that she was here . . . with him, she didn’t actually want to be anywhere else.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
His brown eyes cut over to her momentarily and she had to keep from sighing. Christ, the man did things to her body she didn’t understand.
“A condo.”
“You have a new condo?” she asked.
He smirked. “Something like that.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“You’ve always been safe with me.”
“Yeah. Who’s going to mess with a congressman, right?” she asked with a soft chuckle.
“Plenty of people, I’m sure, but I don’t think we’ll be bothered tonight.”
Tonight. That word. As if he didn’t intend for her to leave.
She didn’t even bother contradicting him. She didn’t trust herself alone with Brady for an entire night. Not in his condo, where there were probably beds and couches and doors . . . and other things they’d had sex on last summer. But clearly telling him to take her home was out of the question. He had thrown her over his shoulder earlier just because she wouldn’t get into his car. She had a feeling tonight was on his terms . . . as most things with Brady were.
