She’d been having such a good time. All her guards were down. She’d thought she’d flown halfway around the globe and away from her toxic family, and when she wasn’t looking, my own toxic history hissed in her face.
I’d wanted to protect her, and I ended up hurting her terribly.
“Fine. I owe you one. Now can we get this over with? I need to get to the airport.”
By mid-morning, I’ve signed a dozen legal documents and arranged to put my flat up for sale again. This time, an agency will deal with all the details, and coordinate with a solicitor in the legal firm’s offices.
Jeff promises his assistant will keep him apprised of everything so I don’t need to think about it again, and asks me to have lunch with him again in New York sometime soon. “You owe me,” he reminds me.
“Lunch it is.” The promise rolls off my tongue more smoothly than I expect. Maybe these baby steps of leaning on him for help are actually working to bridge a connection again. Terrible to think that it’s easier because the old man has passed on, but that might just be the truth.
Too complicated a truth to worry about now, though.
I’ve got a plane to catch.
A woman to find.
And a fight to finish.
BOOTY CALL
part four
WASHINGTON, AGAIN
—twenty-seven—
Alison
It takes Scott three days to talk his way past Cole and Hailey. By the time he does, he’s pissed. “Ali!” he hollers as he stomps into their living room. “Get your ass out here and stop hiding from me.”
“I’m not hiding,” I snap as I slide out of their guest room, although yeah, that’s exactly what I was doing. “I just didn’t want to see you.”
I’m not ready for this, but he’s made his point. He’s not going away until we hash this out more than what I yelled at him in the street outside his flat.
I flush with embarrassment at the memory of how I acted. I’m not proud of having let his ex get under my skin like that.
And despite my anger, and my regret, my first reaction when I catch sight of him is my heart leaping into my throat.
He looks like hell. He hasn’t shaved. Probably hasn’t slept, either.
He looks like he needs a hug, and Cole sure as shit isn’t going to give him one. My brother-in-law is standing toe-to-toe with Scott—so he’s been allowed in, but he’s on a short leash.
I’m not going to give him a hug, either, I don’t think, but I don’t need a pit bull protecting me either.
“Cole, can you give us the room?”
He gives me a surprised look and I shrug. I might not be happy with the guy, but he’s not going to hurt me.
I settle on the couch and gesture to the chair across from me. He takes it, his gaze wary at my sudden adoption of social niceties. “What? I went to finishing school.”
“I know,” he said slowly, a faint hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. It’s maddening how much I like his face. I don’t want to like any part of him, but especially not the part that lied to me and won me over. And the part that watched me, carefully, learning me inside out when I wasn’t given the same privilege. “But you hate that part of yourself, and glory in being a little inappropriate. Or, when pissed off, a lot inappropriate.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Pissed off for a legit reason.”
He nods. “Yeah.”
“What do you want, Scott?”
“I want to talk. Air what needs to be aired, and get this behind us.”
“So talk.”
He shifts uncomfortably. “What do you want to know?”
I huff a frustrated breath. “How am I supposed to know that? How about the complete, unvarnished truth of who you are?”
“That’s complicated.”
“Well, it turns out I’m not that complicated. So…nice knowing you.”
“Whoa, wait.” He holds out his hands, palms up, fingers spread. “Stop making snap, rash decisions like that.”
I frown, adrenaline ricocheting through my body. I try to ignore the fight or flight reflex pressing hard against my ribcage from the inside out. “This isn’t going to work if you tell me how to be.”
“How will it work?”
“I don’t know.”
“But it will, if we figure out a way?” It’s so easy to hear hope in his voice. To listen to the matching voice streaming through my mind, chanting that I can trust him and if I just crawl into his lap, it’ll all be okay.
I can’t trust that voice.
I can’t trust him.
I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to promise that. I don’t know.”
He moves forward, settling right on the edge of his chair. He’s fisting his hands so tightly his knuckles are white. “I don’t want to push you, Ali.”
I stare at his hands and my frown deepens. “I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re barely holding yourself back from grabbing me and shaking me and telling me I’m wrong.”
He makes a frustrated sound but doesn’t deny it. He gets a point for not denying it.
I stand up. “Come back tomorrow. Bring cupcakes.”
— —
He brings a half-dozen chocolate cupcakes.