Intent

I can’t lie and say there wasn’t a time when I wanted to hear these very words. Or that they don’t affect me now and make me wish for what I always thought we had. Then the pain of finding them together that day comes rushing back. Cyndi’s revelation that she’s carrying Bobby’s baby sealed our relationship coffin. While I’m talking to him, there is a question I want answered, for closure, to move on without another thought of Bobby and Cyndi.

“You owe me an answer to a question that’s been haunting me. And I deserve the truth, no matter what it is. If you hesitate even one second before answering me, I’ll know you’re lying and this will be our last conversation—ever.”

“Ask me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“What was it that pushed you into bed with Cyndi?”

“I was so overwhelmed, Layne. So many things were going wrong at work, and I thought the restaurant would close for good. You didn’t put pressure on me, but I did feel pressured to get married and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. Then the whole baby thing came up.

“The thought of being a father and being responsible for another human being freaked me out, but I knew it was something you really wanted, so I agreed to it. But then when it still hadn’t happened after two years of trying, I started to think it wasn’t meant to happen. I snapped under all the pressure and thought I wanted to go back to a more carefree time.”

He finally stops to take a breath but mine is still frozen in my throat. He really thinks that explanation explains it all away. He believes he’s done this great and noble thing by admitting all his faults. But what he’s done is confirm that he’s been lying to me for a long time. He dares to say he felt pressured to get married and have a baby, but not by me. What a cowardly cop-out. He still can’t tell the truth.

And I’ve been lying to myself for far too long by thinking a baby would bring us closer, that it would make him want to marry me.

“Let me get this straight. You were pressured into marrying me, having a baby with me, even just being with me. Two years of making love to me without producing a baby proved to you we weren’t meant to be. The thought of being a father freaked you out, but it sure as hell didn’t affect your performance when you were fucking Cyndi after you impregnated her. I call complete and utter bullshit on every word you just said. Don’t call me again.”

“No, Layne, wait!” are the last words I hear before I hang up on him.

After I silence my phone, I climb the stairs to the second floor of the spacious cabin and walk into the large master bedroom. The double French doors lead out to a balcony overlooking the river between this house and Ace’s. Marcia has furnished this cabin with all the best amenities, one of them being the plush chaise lounger that gives a perfect view of Ace’s house through the trees.

Stretched out on the lounger, I release the pent-up anger and anxiety Bobby’s call created through my hot, salty tears. The numbness I felt has dissipated, and the plethora of feelings threaten to overwhelm me. Then I see movement on Ace’s deck, but my vision is blurry from tears. Since I don’t have a tissue, I use my sleeve to dry my eyes to get a better look.

I’d recognize that stance from a mile away. Even in the dark, with only an outline of a shadow, I’d know him. Whether he’s displaying his tough, strong side or his intuitive, thoughtful side, he projects pure strength in every move he makes. The way he stands—his head held high, his chest naturally protruding, and his hands in fists at his waist—exudes masculinity. Simply watching Ace Sharp standing on his back porch has fully distracted me from the dark thoughts and feelings Bobby elicited.

His arm raises and waves at me. He knows I’m watching him. I’m completely busted and there’s no way to hide it, so I wave back. He retrieves something from his pocket and holds it up for me to see. The flash of the lit screen of his phone alerts me that he’s about to call me, so I grab mine in anticipation.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Layne.” The low-pitched timbre of his voice sounds so sensuous over the phone. “Are you stalking me again?”

I can’t help my reaction—I actually giggle in embarrassment from his playfulness. “I was out here first. So, technically, you’re stalking me again.”

“I’m definitely stalking you, beautiful. But don’t worry, you’ll love it,” he promises.

I have no doubt he’ll keep his word.





Chapter Ten





Layne



Ace smiles broadly at my approach when I arrive at the rehab center to see Frankie. “Come walk with me to catch Frankie,” he requests and holds out his hand. I slide my hand in his and he interlocks our fingers. “Now you can’t spook and run away from me.”

“Where would I go?” I chuckle.

“Where are you from?” he asks and catches me off guard.

“New York,” I confirm his suspicion.

“Ah, she reveals information about herself.” He grins and squeezes my hand.

“I just thought you should know at least that, since you’re stalking me, after all.”

“Are you helping me? Making sure I know where to find you?”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere, Ace,” I reply. “You’ll just have to stalk me around here.”

He stops walking and turns to face me. “I’m going to hold you to that, beautiful.”

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