“Not as awkward as the last time.” My eyes inadvertently dart to his arm, to the large reaper tattoo peeking out from beneath his shirt.
Seeing where my focus lands, Jared rubs over it, offering sheepishly, “I’m sorry that you found out like that.”
I sigh, wondering if he’s referring to the tattoo or the cheating. Or both.
His eyes roam my hair. “You look really good, Reese. Not that you didn’t before. You just look more . . . grown up now. More responsible.”
I feel my cheeks flush as I study the plate in front of me, my appetite nonexistent. “It’s a little too boring for my taste.”
“You will never be boring.” A quick dart of my eyes catches that gleam in his. Is he flirting with me? Regarding me with that gorgeous face of his that I can’t believe I had license to kiss at all times, he finally sighs. “I f**ked up with us, Reese, and I’m so sorry.”
A tinny taste fills my mouth as I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from talking, because I know I’ll get emotional and probably say something defensive. I need to remain calm.
“I’ve loved Caroline since we were six years old. When she broke up with me out of the blue, I was crushed. Then you appear out of nowhere a week later, completely opposite of her.”
“I definitely am that,” I mutter dryly.
That cute smirk only increases the appeal of his face. “You sure are.” It falls quickly. “I was on the rebound. I wanted so bad to be over her, to not think about her, to move on, that I rushed things with you and me. And before I knew it, we were married. Then, about a month after Vegas, Caroline phoned me, crying. I hadn’t talked to her since the breakup, so she had no idea. I guess my parents phoned her parents after we went to meet them, and they told her.”
I roll my eyes at the memory of that disastrous day. I swear, his mother was silently putting a hex on me from across the dinner table.
“Anyway, she called me, crying, telling me how she had truly meant she just needed some time and space but always thought we’d get back together. We agreed to meet up for dinner one night and . . .” He shrugs. “Things happened and I didn’t know how to stop them. So many old feelings flooded back and they confused me. And then you caught us that day in the shower and . . .”
I squeeze my eyes tight against the memory, of hearing him coming as I walked in. That’s why they hadn’t heard me in the first place. But there’s something more important here. “You were already cheating on me a month after we got married?” I can barely hear my own voice—it’s barely audible—as the truth starts revealing itself. How can I even call what we had a marriage? It was a total sham.
“No! After that first night, I told her I couldn’t see her again and I didn’t for a month. But then she was at my parents’ anniversary party.” The one I refused to attend.
If I had gone, would we still be sitting across the table right now, talking about our failed marriage?
He drops his gaze to his hands. “She’s always been so sweet and caring, and . . .” I clear my throat to stifle the bitter laugh. She has him fooled. “. . . she fits with my family well and . . .” Yes, his family, who was crushed when he brought me home. “ . . . she’ll make a good mother one day.” He sounds like he’s spewing out his parents’ propaganda, but the more he goes on, the more desolate I become. If that’s what he wanted in a wife, then we never had a hope in hell. Sweet . . . caring . . . fits in . . . future good mother . . . None of those labels fit me, regardless of whether they’re real or fraudulent on her.
It feels like he’s the one with a paintball gun aimed at point-blank range at my heart, firing mercilessly. I didn’t come here to listen to this. I make a move to push my chair back when I hear, “But I miss you, Reese.”
My mouth drops open, the conflicting end to that “Ode to Caroline” startling.
Eyes thick with emotion blaze into me. “We were pretty f**king great together, weren’t we?”
And then he reaches out to grab my hand.
The still vivid memory of them together yesterday wraps its fist around my guts and squeezes, reminding me not to let myself drift into the nostalgic, not to let myself get caught up in his words now. I want to be screaming at him, agreeing, “Yes! We were f**king awesome together and you ruined it!” I should be stabbing his hand with my fork. But instead I let myself accept the physical contact for just a moment longer, until I manage to lose my gaping jaw, and then I pull my hand out from beneath his and use the fork to jab at my pie. It’s untouched, but at least they can’t serve it to anyone else with holes all through it.
He waits in silence as I take three long, deep calming breaths. “Does she know you’re here with me right now?” I do a cursory glance around the patio, looking for the little ginger-haired husband-stealing bitch hiding behind a plant.
A frown zags across his forehead. “What? You think she’s watching from somewhere?”
“No, only a crazy person would do that.”
He pauses, a smirk curling his lips. “No, she doesn’t know. She’s not even talking to me right now.”
“Oh yeah? Had a big fight?” My conscience starts to laugh—a wicked, triumphant cackle inside my head.
“Yeah. Over something stupid that happened at paintball,” he murmurs absently, cocking his head. “Don’t look so happy about it, okay?”
“I’ll try my best,” I offer, deadpan.
He folds his hands into one another. “We’ve been fighting a lot, actually. I’ve known her for eighteen years and yet the second I said those vows, it’s like she changed into an entirely new woman and she’s trying to change me with her.” He works his mouth for a moment, watching me carefully. “You weren’t like that, though, were you?”
That’s because we only knew each other for six weeks before we got married. And no, I wasn’t. I accepted him as he was. I hold his gaze—a heated look that I’ve seen plenty before, though never while sitting in a public place—but I say nothing to that.
“So this lawyer you’re seeing, how long has that been going on for?”
“A few months,” I lie.
He nods slowly, reaching out to curl his hands around my empty mug, pushing it back and forth slowly. “I was thinking we could all go out to dinner or something, sometime.”
Now my bitter laugh does escape. I know Jared can be kind of dense sometimes—letting me walk into the apartment to collect my things that day is a good example of how he sometimes doesn’t think through his ideas—but this? Chewing food . . . carrying on a conversation . . . not slitting Caroline’s throat with a steak knife . . . all things that sound impossible.
Green eyes flicker to my face, assessing me. “Too weird?”
“Just a little.”
He shrugs. “Okay, well . . . maybe drinks or something more casual at first. Even just the two of us. I really want to be friends, Reese. At least.”
At least? What the hell else could we be? He’s married! Is he actually doing what I think he’s doing? Flip-flopping back and forth between Caroline and me like a beached fish? Like he wants to have his cake and eat it too? If I were an outsider watching in, I would be pointing and laughing at the lot of us right now and especially at the idiot blond, for even sitting here and speaking to this douchebag. If I were an outsider and not the idiot blond who not so long ago hopelessly loved said douchebag, who was left broken-hearted and humiliated in a ditch.
“I’ll have to think about it,” I say, standing. He follows suit, and we’re left facing each other in this uncomfortable stance. Do we just walk away? Do we hug? Do I punch him in the junk so maybe he starts using that dense mass of gray matter filling his skull, for once?
“You got a new number, right?” He pulls his cell out of his pocket and starts scrolling through it.
I hesitate. “Yeah, Miami local.”
Frowning, he mutters, “Weird. I had your contact info in here. I don’t know where it went.” I think I have a pretty good idea. To deleted heaven, care of your sweet new wife. “Here. I’ll put it in again. Okay, shoot.”
I pause.
Do I do this?
Do I give him my number?
I give him my number.
“Great. Well . . .” He frowns and then, stepping forward, envelops my stiff body in a hug that I don’t reciprocate. “See you soon. I hope.” His lips brush against my cheek as he pulls away. I watch him stroll away, whistling happily.
And I release the lung’s worth of air I didn’t know I was holding.
I don’t know how I feel about all of this. Jared’s not happy with Caroline. In the nasty swirl of hurt that has encased me for months, there’s no mistaking the sweet feeling of that knowledge. Now he’s come right out and told me that he misses me. He’s showing me that he still has feelings for me. If I ever wanted Jared . . .
To hurt.
To suffer.
To love me again.
This could the perfect opportunity.
But first, I would need Switzerland to play along.
Chapter 16
BEN
“Well, look at you, big-shot lawyer.”
Fuck . . . Just the sound of that smooth voice has blood rushing to my cock. It’s nothing I can control. Mercy has always had that effect on me. It’s only gotten worse since my farewell party at Penny’s. Cain’s “no screwing the strippers” rule got publically launched out the window by her and Hannah that night. At the same time. I didn’t even suggest it, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to pass up the chance.
But the look on Mason’s face now as he turns around to find the platinum-blond stripper in my office is almost as entertaining. His face goes from pale to beet red in an instant as the poor guy’s eyes bobble around uncontrollably—from her face to her tits to her face to the wall and back to her tits before he turns around to stare at me with pleading eyes.
“This is my good friend Mason. Mason, this is Mercy.”
She reaches out with a giggle. After a somewhat awkward-looking handshake, he mumbles something about photocopies and then bolts from my office.
I stand and round my desk to scoop the tiny blond stripper into a big hug, the smell of her flowery perfume—almost too strong—attacking my nose. “Hey, babe.” I’ve never had any interest in her as more than a friend, with a few occasional benefits that we kept very discreet and far from Penny’s. I do respect Cain and his rules . . . to a degree. And, if I thought she’d ever want more from me, I never would have let it happen.
But I’m starting to worry that something has changed.
I’m getting texts from Mercy almost daily now, asking me to come visit her at the club.
Her big blue eyes appraise my office, the endless stack of paperwork. And me, her gaze drifting over my chest as her fingers toy with my shirt collar. “You look all grown up.” She’s wearing more than I’m used to seeing her in but there’s really no hiding what she does for a living in that short, tight dress. Her enhanced curves, her face, the way she carries herself . . . it all screams, “I get naked for money.”
And, by the multitude of glances into my office, everyone in the building can hear those screams. Based on what Mason told me of Jack’s worries about my past workplace transgressions, bringing this into the office probably won’t look good on me. Still, I can’t kick her out. I can only hope she leaves soon.
“I’m trying to be, anyway. What are you doing here?”
A cute little giggle escapes. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Penny’s just isn’t the same without you.” A delicate hand runs across my chest and then descends quickly, nails dragging along my stomach until her fingers find my belt. Mercy has always been a tease like that. She likes knowing that she can get an instant reaction out of me.
“Come here.” I use the excuse of pushing my door shut to step away before her hand drifts even farther down. Leading her to the spare chair, I then dive into mine, letting the desk act as a barrier between the two of us.
“I thought you were coming to visit me at Penny’s on the weekend,” she says with a small pout.
“I was stuck here all weekend.” Honestly, between work and Reese, I didn’t even think about Penny’s. I was exhausted on Saturday night. I can’t believe I haven’t stepped foot in the club in over three weeks. It’s a record for me.
“It’s not fun over there right now.” Her smile falters. “I don’t know what happened, Ben. Charlie disappeared, China got fired . . .” Her face pinches up. “I’ve never seen Cain so miserable.”
“Yeah, I don’t really know what’s going on either.” That’s a lie. I know more than most, seeing as one of my best friends and the head bouncer at Penny’s, Nate, called me last week to fill me in. It seems that Cain, my good friend and the owner of Penny’s, fell in love with a stripper who has more secrets than he was able to dig up through his clandestine methods that I’m not supposed to know about. She took off in the night and now he’s a wreck. I’ve never seen Cain anything but cool and composed.