Rhys (Secrets Book 1) Page 17

  I want to pick up and move, go somewhere he’d never find us, change our names—whatever it takes to get away from him—but I know in the end it’d be the easy way out, the pussy thing to do. Besides, I’d be leaving Brant behind, not to mention my parents and hers. Speaking of which, I should find out if she’s in contact with them. Every day I add more and more to my list, more people to protect.

  Because of my warped sense of justice.

  Because of my stupid mistake of beating a monster nearly to death. When I did it, I wasn’t planning on him surviving, or him not working alone. By the way he kept dropping hints about wanting to work with me, I should’ve known.

  How stupid was I?

  Some could say I’m still being stupid, and I may be. I’m being selfish by keeping her. A smart man would protect her by leaving her, moving away, leaving her here. A smart man would not have chosen to get more tangled up in her, but like she said, it was inevitable. We were always meant to collide, fated since childhood—if you believe in fate. I do…at least now I do.

  I’m lost in thought again when she comes back into the office with our lunch. This time, I’m not lost enough to not notice her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m going to say it countless times over the years, I’m sure, but right now, I’m truly sorry. I know my actions may seem smothering, but I don’t mean them to be. I only mean to protect you. I meant it when I said I’d never change you or ask you to change, but in some twisted way, I kind of am, aren’t I?”

  Asking her to uproot her life in order to protect her is asking her to change, no matter how I look at it. It’s called for but it’s still a change.

  “It’s a change I understand though, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing. I’m upset right now, but it’s not with you. I’m upset with myself. I huffed out of here to warm up our lunch because I was mad at myself, at my own stupid thoughts. I should actually be the one apologizing, but I didn’t think you noticed my pouting. I’m sorry, too.”

  What thoughts could she possibly have to be sorry for?

  Backing the chair away from the desk, I make room for her to sit in my lap—another bonus of not going out in public. We can be as close as we want to be without prying eyes.

  “Have a seat, babe.”

  “You’re not going to ask what I was thinking about?”

  “Nah, you’ll tell me eventually,” I say while winking at her.

  “Stop winking at me, it’s weird,” she replies while climbing into my lap, holding the lunch bowl—which only has one fork in it, I might add.

  She takes a bite and moans in bliss before handing the fork back to me. If she keeps moaning while she’s eating, Threads & Trends may not reopen after lunch. She needs to hire some employees.

  My own moan escapes when I swallow the first mouthful. “Damn, Averill, this is good. I didn’t notice how delicious it was last night.” I was entirely too focused on the stupid envelope.

  “Me either. Now I know why Brant was making such ridiculous noises the whole time he ate. The sauce was a spur of the moment concoction. I didn’t think it’d be any good.”

  Laughing, I feed her another forkful. “Leave it to you to not know what you’re cooking and make something amazing. I think you’ve ruined Brant for life. You do realize he’s going to ask you to cook for him all the time now, right?”

  Taking another bite, I resist the urge to moan again. It’s that damn good.

  “Yeah, he’s already called to ask if I can make it for dinner again tonight. When I told him no and mentioned all the leftovers I sent with him, he admitted he ate them for breakfast and lunch.”

  Snaking my arm around her waist, I pull her more tightly against me. It felt like she was too far away.

  “He’ll probably propose by the end of the week.”

  She wiggles and attempts to turn around in my hold, but all she manages to do is give me a hard-on.

  “No, you don’t think, do you?”

  She’s choosing to ignore what she can obviously feel prodding her ass.

  “Yeah, I’m serious. One time when Vinny was dating this chick, she made some homemade country fried steak for us and Brant mumbled out the words while eating his second mouthful. I’d say you have two days max before he pops the question.”

  “Hm, maybe someone else should beat him to the punch.”

  The pasta in my mouth I was about to swallow? It’s on the floor, because her words caused me to choke and spit it out. Since I didn’t want it to end up all over her, I turned my head to the side. I’m still trying to catch my breath.

  “If my comment causes a reaction like that, maybe you don’t see a future like I do.”

  She’s pushing off my lap and fleeing out the door before I do catch my breath. It’s not like I don’t intend to one day marry her—I do, just not yet. We’ve been dating for less than a month. Shit, people will think we’re insane because we’ve already uttered the L word.

  Maybe we are insane. Who gives a shit? I don’t.

  “Averill, you know I love you,” I yell after her, wanting her to hear the words before I find her, because she needs to hear them.

  “Yeah, I know you do,” she answers from the supply room—right where I knew she’d run.

  She’s sitting on a table normally used for unpacking boxes, and from what I can see, she’s not crying. She’s curled into herself, but at least there are no tears.

  “I plan to marry the shit outta you, one day.” My voice sounds raspy to me, and I can imagine to her it sounds unsteady.

  “You…you do?”

  “Hell yes I do. I’m not going to ask you tomorrow, but one day, I will.” I will, when the moment is right. Now is not the time. Not when Smith hangs over our heads. Not when we can’t have a normal relationship. We’re basically hiding everything we are, and I don’t want to be hiding when I ask her to forever be mine.

  “Okay. I don’t know why I had such a reaction. I’m sorry—again.” She holds out her hand to me, gesturing for me to come closer. I don’t need an invitation.

  Grabbing her hand, I pull her off of the table and into my arms. My mouth devours hers, and I can taste the lemon and garlic on her tongue. All too soon she’s pushing on my chest and pulling her lips away from mine.

  “Lunch time is over. I need to reopen the store and you need to get back to work—real work. No more focusing on Smith for the day. It’s an order, not a request.”

  “Yes, Tiger Lily.” As she’s walking away, I watch her ass sway back and forth, regretting not taking advantage of the skirt she’s wearing while we were eating lunch. I could have had her while having lunch.

  “Damn.” Biting my fist while still watching her walk, I can’t hide my obvious arousal when she turns around and gives me a smile that lights up the entire store, the same way her laugh did the day she came crashing back into my life.

  Man, she’s beautiful. Stunning. Exquisite. Words don’t do her justice. Nothing does. Her beauty astounds me. The best thing about her?

  She’s mine.

  Three weeks pass by in a blur.

  Nothing has changed. Still no news.

  I’ve been checking on Smith’s whereabouts every single day. He’s still in the hospital and is supposed to be moved to a rehabilitation center by the end of the week.

  I’ve managed to sweet talk one of the nurses into giving me as much information as possible. She believes I’m his cousin checking in on him from back home in California. Of course, when she asks if I’d like her to transfer my call to his room, I decline. There’s always an easy excuse.

  I’m debating about hiring an investigator to keep an eye on him once he’s moved. At least then I’d know who’s visiting him, if anyone. An investigator may be able to pose as a nurse in the rehab center, someone who could potentially get close to him, learn his habits.

  I’ve managed to find two unsolved murders in the Santa Rosa area, one of them surprisingly being the murder of Alix Marsden. It seems he didn’t overdose like Averill alwa
ys thought. His case has never formally been closed; the police suspect foul play, therefore it’s still open. His autopsy report lists strangulation as the cause of death. Averill did say the door to their apartment was unlocked, but she never mentioned if anything looked to have been disturbed or not. She’s only spoken to me about it the one time. It’s a hard subject, and I don’t want to bring it up again, but I know I’ll eventually have to. I know in my heart Smith killed Alix.

  The other unsolved murder is of a local prostitute. Her death wasn’t flagged as a murder until months afterward. The only reason I think it’s connected to Smith is because of the way she died—staged to look like an overdose, no forced entry, cause of death: strangulation.

  There are too many dots connecting to Smith. It has to be him.

  Since Smith is unable to walk at the moment, now would be the time to actually take some time away. I’m still not working out of my office, Ryan is mostly moved in and sorting through cases, and I only have one I’m working on.

  My father is home from the hospital and mom is begging for me to come visit again. Averill is tiring of my constant company. She hasn’t given it voice, but I know she’s tired of only seeing me and Brant. She’d like to be able to go to the salon alone, maybe the gym—anything really. It’s getting harder and harder to tell her no.

  I’m thinking maybe I can convince her to leave the store in her new manager’s hands for a few days. She’s managed to hire not only a manager but also two new employees. I’m positive they could run things for a while and we could get away, and I want to be sneaky and take her to see her parents in Santa Rosa while also gathering some more information on those local unsolved cases.

  She’ll kill me for butting in on her personal life with her parents, but for her to truly move on, I feel she needs closure there. Forgiveness needs to be given on both ends. Spoken like a true coward, Rhys.

  Hey, what can I say? I’m a work in progress. Besides, this trip would also mean bridging the gap between me and both of my parents. A few days after I was home, I finally went through every letter and gift. I’m still unsure how I missed them all, how at least one didn’t slip through the cracks, because the later ones were sent to my current address. It’s fucking weird, like someone was keeping their letters from reaching me.

  But who?

  And why the hell would someone go through all the trouble to do so?

  Maybe I’ll never know. Strangely, I’m okay with it. I have them now, and I know they tried.

  Walking out of the back office, I find Averill setting up a new display of artistic journals and book-themed scarves. One of her new employees is helping her—Jessica, I think.

  “Hey, babe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When you’re done setting up the display, will you come back to the office? I have a few issues to discuss with you.” We make sure not to discuss anything pertaining to Smith while other employees are working, which seems to be almost daily now.

  “Sure thing. Give me about ten minutes and I’ll be back.”

  She gazes up at me and her beautiful whiskey eyes meet mine. I wink at her.

  “Gah, you’re terrible. Go away.”

  She’s laughing as I walk away. I love hearing her laugh; it’s one of my favorite sounds in the world. If winking at her is all I need to do to make her laugh, I’ll wink at her every day for the rest of my life.

  While I’m waiting for her to join me, I look up flight costs. It’s actually not much right now, which makes it a better time to travel. If I can talk her into it, we could leave in a couple days and be gone for a week or more, spend a couple days with my folks before heading north to hers then eventually heading back home.

  I’m still checking out travel sites when she comes into the office.

  “Is it about Smith?” she questions while closing the office door. Another thing we do all the time now is close the damn door. I liked it more when it was just us in the store, but I hated her working too much. It’s a double-edged sword.

  “Not wholly. I want to go see my parents. Do you think you could trust the store to your employees’ capable hands for a few days?” Say yes, say yes, say yes.

  “Um…” She’s running her hands nervously through her hair, which she hasn’t resorted to doing in a few weeks. “I’m not sure.”

  “Okay, not the answer I was hoping for, but it’s okay. We can try again later. I was hoping we could go now, while Smith is still immobilized.”

  It is truly okay. I can keep researching him online, looking for more open cases, especially ones revolving around the warehouse. There have to be more. I can close up my case here as well instead of devoting too much time to our personal issues.

  “Maybe. I guess I could give it a try and if it doesn’t work out, we could cut our trip short.”

  Now she’s talking my language.

  “You hired them for a reason, right?” The same as I hired Ryan. He’s not only my co-worker, he actually bought part of my business, so he’s a partner. He believes in what we’re doing. Before year’s end, we hope to hire at least two more attorneys and a few paralegals.

  If everything resolves itself in my personal life.

  “That, and Kendra came from another store as their store manager. She knows the business inside and out. If she hadn’t come highly recommended, I doubt I ever would’ve hired anyone to fill her position. I was scared to pull the trigger.” She walks over and pushes my chair back, sliding into my lap. “In case you haven’t noticed, I can be a tad controlling.”

  My hands automatically move to her hips, holding her in place.

  “You don’t say?”

  “Mhm. I heard from this guy that it’s a total turn-on.” As the words are leaving her mouth, one of my hands moves from her hips and begins sliding up the inside of her thigh, my fingers slowly crawling up, higher and higher.

  “Have you now?” My other hand gently moves her head to the side, finding the perfect angle for my lips to meet her ear. “What does this guy look like?” As the last word pops from my lips, I bite down on the lobe of her ear.

  “He’s a ginger, and his face is covered in freckles. He has a thing for me. It’s sad. I’ve turned him down countless times. I’m practically old enough to be his mother—he’s maybe twelve. Last week he asked me to the movies.”

  Wait.

  What?

  My hands stop their venture, her words shocking me. What the hell?

  “Tiger Lily, are you talking about the neighbor kid across the street?”

  Her shoulders begin shaking as she starts laughing loudly. “Yeah, I couldn’t help myself. Jessica is here, and you were getting sidetracked. Put those magical fingers away, Rhys.”

  “You little shit. I wasn’t going to let us get carried away. It is kind of your fault, ya know. Stop being so damn sexy and I’ll stop wanting to fuck you all the time.”

  She’s pushing off of my lap faster than I can think.

  “Are you blaming me?” Her voice takes on a haughty high-pitched tone, and she’s almost yelling. Her face is tinged red in anger. How did this conversation go so wrong in such a short period of time?

  “Hell no.” But the expression on her face says she’s not buying what I’m selling. “No, not at all. Shit. My words aren’t coming out right.”

  She holds up three fingers and begins silently counting down.

  Three seconds is all I have to make this right.

  “I love you.”

  It’s all I can think of to say.

  “I’m sorry?” Why does it come out as a question?

  Shit, she’s down to one finger.

  “I love you with all my being. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said exactly, but I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean to imply it was your fault I was acting like a lust-infused idiot. Forgive me?”

  The last finger goes down. Her expression has yet to change.

  Without another word, she opens the door and walks out of the office, back out onto the store floo
r, back out to where Jessica can hear every word we say.

  Not caring who’s listening, I follow her out.

  “Babe, forgive me. I’m an asshole and didn’t mean it. I’ll make it up to you once we get home tonight. I promise.”

  Instead of her answering me, I’m met with the stares of two customers—two customers I know all too well.

  My parents.

  Well, this is certainly a change of events.

  Over dinner, we’re met with countless questions, one after another after another, like a damn firing squad. I don’t know which one to answer first, and neither does Averill. We both remain silent.

  When my mother stops to take a sip of her ice water, I finally find my voice.

  “How did you know to find me at Averill’s store?”

  “Now he speaks,” she scolds while looking at my father but gesturing toward me.

  “Excuse me for remaining silent while a million questions were fired my way. I didn’t know which to answer first.” Taking a moment to gather my thoughts and attempt to re-center myself, I put a hand on Averill’s knee. She brings me peace. “It’s rather odd. I was actually planning a trip out to see you when you come thundering in. I’m thrown off balance by it. I’d like to answer your questions, but I’d also like mine to be answered.”

  Exhaling, I let out all my anger. Inhaling, I bring in a slight annoyance. It’s not much of an improvement, but it’s better than remaining furious, which is what I was feeling.

  I didn’t want my first time seeing and speaking to my father in years to be on my turf. It makes me more uncomfortable for him to be in my space. I’d rather have gone to him, as we were planning before our fight, literally right before they walked into the store.

  Shit.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I wanted to get Averill away from this place for a few days, wanted to go to Santa Rosa—for more than one reason.

  Granted, no one but me knew my real reasoning behind the whole trip. It’s yet another lie within a lie, only on a much larger scale this time, and one I’d have to tell her about given our whole not lying to each other agreement.