Frayed - Page 4/55

“Bell, you okay?” Dino asks, and pulls me from my memories.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I reassure him as he places the last of the food on the table.

Dino works for Tate, my boss from my day job, and for me on occasion. I glance away from what we’re doing and catch sight of Ben. He looks almost edible in his tux. He’s talking to his sister and when he lowers his chin in an almost shy fashion, I have to look away. He’s just too much to take in.

With my heart pounding, I race out onto the terrace for some air. I have to stay away from him. The way he looks at me, I know what he wants. And I can’t control the way my body reacts when he’s near. I know he’s not good for me, and that nothing but heartache can come out of the attraction between us. There’s just too much in our past to ever make this work. Two wrongs will never, ever make a right.

CHAPTER 3

You and Me

Ben

As the night draws to an end, people start funneling out of the ballroom, stopping one last time to congratulate me. With each good-bye I look around, trying to spot her, but she’s nowhere in sight. It’s probably better that way. Once most of the guests are gone, I make my way toward the bar for some refuge. It’s been a bittersweet night and I’m ready for the memories it’s awoken to once again become dormant.

“The same?” the bartender asks me.

I nod. “With a lemon slice if you don’t mind.”

I’m leaning over the short glass filled with ice, sparkling water, and the scent of citrus—the scent of her—chewing on a cube, thinking about my speech and the haunting sadness that Kane, with all his money and power, died with no one by his side.

When he died no one knew the one simple important fact that mattered most to him—the one thing that made him happy. Am I headed down that same road? Fuck. Recently my sister and I came into a ten-million-dollar inheritance, and since then I’ve done nothing except build my company. Put the pieces in play to establish what I hope will become a lucrative publishing holding company.

Staring at the lemon floating among the melting ice cubes, I can’t help thinking how much things have changed over the past year. I came back to California looking to reclaim my life. But that life was long gone before I ever returned. My childhood sweetheart, the girl I was engaged to, was already in love with someone else. Then before I could even accept that and move forward, my mother died and I don’t remember much of what happened after that. I know I spent many long months drowning my sorrows and making one poor decision after another. But I was serious about no more looking back. I need to move forward.

Jason slides in beside me. “Everything okay?”

Sitting up straight, I turn to face him. “Just thinking about a girl.”

“Dahlia?” he asks.

“No, actually not her. We’re in a good place as friends now.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Want to talk about the girl, then?”

“Jason!” We both turn in the direction of the voice. Serena walks toward us with her hands on her h*ps and a frown on her face. Her eyes narrow on the bar in front of us.

“What, baby?” he asks, pulling her toward him and kissing her lips.

She lifts my glass and sniffs it. Setting it back down, she looks between the two of us and smiles. “Nothing.”

“Ready to go?” he asks.

She nods, her long earrings swinging along her jawline. “If you are,” she answers, folding into his side. She looks toward me. “Come home with us?”

I can’t help noticing how much she looks like our mother tonight. Her hair is pulled back, she has makeup on, and she’s wearing a long black dress. She looks beautiful.

“I think I’ll stay a bit longer. When is Trent leaving?”

“You should tell him now,” Jason mumbles in her ear.

“Now now.” Twisting, she says to me, “In three days.”

“There might not be time,” Jason says louder.

“Come on, you two, I’m right here. Just tell me.”

“I don’t know how to say this,” Serena says, looking nervous and inhaling a deep breath.

Seriousness overtakes me. “Say what?”

“Baby, just tell him before you give him a heart attack,” Jason pushes.

She blows out the breath she was holding. “Jason and I are going to take Trent back to the University of Hawaii together.”

I give her a blank look. “Okay, have fun. When are you coming back?”

“It’s more than a vacation. We’re going to get remarried while we’re there.”

She wipes away some stray tears and I offer my hand to Jason. “Congratulations, man. I know it’s been a long road.”

“I’ll take care of them better this time,” he promises.

And I believe him. I’ve been on this roller-coaster ride for three years, but he’s been on it for five. He distanced himself from his family to keep them safe as he pretended to be a dirty detective, all the while working under a special task force. He joined forces with a drug cartel to learn their inner workings and let his wife and son believe he was on the take. He sacrificed a lot to bring the cartel down. He deserves this second chance. But what’s most important to me is that my sister and Trent are happy. And as long as they are, I’m happy for them.

“What do you say we grab the boy and all stop for ice cream at that place he likes with all the toppings?” Jason says to Serena.

“I don’t eat that shit anymore,” Trent says, joining us.

I try to hide my smile but can’t. Instead I cross my arms and watch.

“Trent Holt, that’s enough of the potty mouth!”

“Mom, I’m not four. You don’t have to say potty mouth.”

“Son, let’s just humor your mother and leave the foul language for your uncle.”

I shake my head and laugh. “Have a good night, everyone.” I hug them all good-bye and watch as they head out the door, hoping that this time maybe they really can be one happy family.

With the room almost empty, I stare at the buffet tables that have already been broken down.

“Can I get you anything else?” the bartender asks.

I shake my head no and toss a fifty on the bar. “Have a great night.”

My fingers curl around the base of the crystal typewriter with the words California’s Journalist of the Year scripted across it. Despite the glamorous surroundings, a sudden wave of loneliness floods me as I exit the now-empty Crystal Ballroom. I can’t shake the feeling as I make my way out. I consider stopping in the lobby bar when I see the cocktail waitress in there but decide I’d better go home. I don’t want to do something I’ll be kicking myself for tomorrow.

Next I take my time wandering the corridors of the grand hotel and by the time I find an exit door, I notice I’m in the staff parking lot. Just as I’m about to turn around, I spot S’belle’s car. The little cabriolet sits among a few other stray automobiles. My spirits suddenly lift at the sight and I have a driving need to see her. Thoughts of her—her smile . . . never forced but always bright, her hair . . . red like fire, her body . . . hot and sexy—have flooded me with need all night, yet it’s her attitude . . . sassy but somehow innocent . . . that has made me burn for her.

For the longest time I stare up at the abundant stars in the clear night sky. I undo my bow tie and take it off, shoving it into my pocket as I question whether I should even be attempting to talk to her. Just then the sound of the side door opening startles me and I stand up straight. I nod toward the two guys wearing white server jackets and black pants, each carrying large silver trays. The taller one is the one who came to get S’belle earlier.

I relax back against the brick wall and consider just going home. But when the door swings open again and I spot that distinctive curtain of red hair, it’s too late. Her arms are loaded with smaller-sized pans and her attention is focused on the two guys, so she doesn’t notice me. I stand back and Caleb’s words echo in my head—leave well enough alone. The parking lot lights cast shadows over her as she walks farther away from me into the darkness. That’s what I decide to do—leave well enough alone.

“I’m parked over to the right,” her sweet voice calls to the guys ahead of her.

She fumbles in her purse while trying to balance the load in her arms. She seems to be losing the battle. And then without thinking, I rush over toward her, trying to grab what I can from her hands, but I’m too late and it all crashes down. Pans bounce off the blacktop, denting and skidding as they land, but our eyes aren’t on the fallen items—they’re on each other.

“Hi,” she says in a voice that screams innocence.

“Hi there,” I answer back.

The faint freckles on her nose are something I don’t remember. But the warmth of her breath whispering against my cheek makes my body come alive—need instantly floods me. Her smile gleams and I smile back. I study her. Her eyes are a liquid green that reminds me of emeralds; the color’s richer than I remember. Her red hair seems brighter than I recall it being and her curls are gone, but her mannerisms, her quirkiness, they’re all still the same.

“Need help?” one of the white-coated guys calls.

“I got it,” I yell back.

With the moment broken, we both squat to pick up the items and when we grab for the same tray our fingers touch and I feel it—electricity bolting through my body. She yanks her hand away as if electrocuted and I know she feels it too. And this time when our eyes meet, I am certain of what I see—desire. It’s then that my confusion fades and I know what I want.

• • •

Knowing what I want and getting it have usually gone hand in hand for me, but I’m not so sure that will be the case when it comes to the spitfire in front of me. Our history is sordid, maybe even tainted, but in this one moment of clarity I don’t give a shit. The attraction between us can’t be denied. And really what does it matter that we spent one night together when I was with someone else, or even that her brother is now married to that same girl? After all, two consenting adults should be able to have sex without the past being an issue.

Her fingers are shaking as she busies herself grabbing at the trays.

“I got them.” I cover up her hands with mine.

She stands quickly while I stay crouched gathering the last of the silver dishes from the ground. I’ve thought about being with her again for so long, and the attraction only grew when we worked together this past summer. And right now I’ll do whatever it takes to have her. I’m on my knees and I consider groveling, apologizing for my lack of morals when I messed around with the bride whose wedding I was reporting on and she was coordinating, but with two dudes watching over me, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever do that.

When I stand up, she tucks her hair behind her ear and my breath catches. Her face is strikingly beautiful—eyelashes longer than I’ve ever seen, wide green eyes with a look of innocence about them, ivory skin with faint freckles on her dainty nose, and full lips that I want so much to have on mine.

There’s a shift in her gaze as I stare at her and the warmth suddenly disappears. She pouts her lips and then attempts to take the trays from me.

I’m bemused by her mood swing. “Let me help you to your car.”

She turns on her heel and leaves me standing there.

My lips twitch. “I guess that’s a yes?”

She walks toward her cabriolet and clicks her key fob to open her trunk while nodding. The guys holding the larger pans are already beside the car, where they help her deposit the items.

“See you, Bell,” one says.