5. CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
BLAKE
Now
A n electric current runs down my spine, snaking through my body. I’m faintly aware of the jerky movement of my leg bouncing up and down as I check my watch. Again. He’s late. Now, I’m going to be late.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath. A woman in stretchy pants jogs by. Her head swivels in my direction as her steps falter. I guess I wasn’t exactly muttering to myself. I give her a warm smile to reassure her my harsh words weren’t meant for her. The woman’s lip curls with something close to distaste, but she readjusts her ear buds and resumes her pace.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
I jerk toward the voice, nearly jumping out of my skin. “About time, asshole.”
He spreads his hands out, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry that I rearranged my plans to be here, dickface.” He gestures to the park and the large parking garage looming over the softball field where a group of men plays a game of tag football. “I can leave and return home to my wife and kids.”
“You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” I stand from the bench, unable to contain the nervous energy coursing through me. I’m supposed to be at the airfield. Now. Right now. “You could have been here when you said you’d be.”
Calm down, Blake. Don’t be mean. It’s not his fault I called last minute.
TJ looks around the park, full of joggers, parents with little kids in strollers, and the stray homeless taking up residence on the park benches. “I’m here now, butt-munch.” He adjusts the collar of his shirt and wipes at his brow. “It’s fucking hot.”
His blatant lack of respect for the fact that Daisy is waiting for me sets my teeth on edge. “Can we do this so I can leave, please?”
TJ’s lip curls into a smirk as he plops down next to me, stretching his arms out on the back of the bench. “You in a hurry or something?”
“You know I am,” I snap, then take a deep breath. TJ knows I’m in a hurry to leave. That’s why we are here. That’s why I called him and he agreed to meet me this early on a Friday. It’s not his fault he couldn’t meet for this exchange earlier than the morning that I’m supposed to be boarding the jet that will take me away for the next five days. I release my breath, my cheeks puffing out. “I’m going to miss the plane.”
“Plane?” he asks, his face a perfect mask of innocence. “I wasn’t aware you visiting your grandmother required you to leave the state.”
“Aunt.” I grind my teeth and close my eyes, reigning in my anger. This is TJ. He’s constantly fucking with me. I have to remember this.
Note to self: Be nice to the man doing you a favor.
Favor, my ass. This favor is costing me a pretty penny.
Trying to calm my nerves, I glance back at the parking garage where I stashed my duffle bag behind the dumpster. It would really suck if someone stole that bag. Daisy’s present is stashed in with my socks .
Focus, Blake. We need to get this done so I can leave. I feel the heavy envelope in the pocket of my khakis and take another soothing breath.
Resisting the urge to check my watch again, I jerk my head towards the large pathway circling the lake. “Let’s walk.”
TJ slowly rises from the bench, stretching his arms and looking around in the least subtle way possible, like the random joggers are spying on us.
“Can you be any more obvious?” I ask.
“Probably?” he hisses and leans towards me. “I don’t do this every day.”
“I can’t tell.” Sarcasm tinges my words. I motion again to the path and start walking.
“I’m not a pro at the criminal lifestyle like you,” TJ says as he falls in step beside me.
Ignoring the snide remark, I remind myself that I need TJ. I need him to cover for me. Bad. I have to remind myself TJ isn’t a criminal. He’s the opposite of a criminal. He’s my parole officer.
“I’ve never done this before,” he says. It sounds more like he’s trying to reassure himself that he doesn’t take bribes every day to cover for his parolees .
“I know.” I sigh dramatically. He’s taken money from me before, but I know what he means, “I’m sorry it’s come to this.”
He makes a throaty sound that I’m not sure is a laugh or a grunt of disbelief. Okay, fine. I’m not that sorry.
“If you wait until Monday to file your check-in report, it’ll cover us for the next few days.” I let my eyes roam around the park. “This way, we avoid you filing that emergency leave order all together.”
TJ nods, but glances around as if asshole Judge Bryant, who court-ordered me to parole, then revoked my license, is hiding in the bushes waiting to bust him. This guy is definitely in the right profession. He’d never make it as anything else than a keeper of the law.
“Right,” he says. “File it on Monday, right as the court is closing.”
“Yes,” I agree. “That way, you’ll be covered, and it will show we met up today.”
He makes a sound in his throat. It’s like a groan, or maybe it’s his worry spilling out of him.
“By the time the paperwork goes through, I’ll be back, so you’ll never be actually lying.”
TJ throws a glance over his shoulder. “And no one would question me seeing you on a Monday instead of Friday, like I was supposed to.”
“No,” I say.
“No?”
“Yes,” I say slowly, like I’m speaking to a confused toddler. “You did see me Friday. Today.”
TJ nods slowly, catching on. “Right, I did see you Friday, but I forgot to file the paperwork and that’s why I’m going to do it late Monday.”
“Exactly.”
“Right,” TJ says, still nodding. “That way, there will be no need to file for an out-of-state emergency order.”
“Exactly,” I say. “That will only be necessary if something goes wrong.”
“And if I do file for the order, I put in the paperwork that your grandma is dying.” TJ stops and turns to look at me.
My shoulders sag. This isn’t hard, TJ . He’s done this before. I don’t know why he’s struggling with it now.
Five months ago, when I left for the weekend trip with Daisy, he’d covered my ass by turning a blind eye and filing the paperwork late. Right now, he’s helping me so I can board a plane, fly to another state, and spend almost a week with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“Aunt,” I say, growing more irritated by the second. I look at my watch and then up at the sky. It’s going to take me forty-five minutes to get to the airstrip, and that’s if I can get a cab to break the speed limit. “We have to stick to the story. It was my grandmother last time.”
“That’s right.” TJ resumes walking. “It’s your aunt this time. Aunt. Your aunt is in the hospital.”
“On Tuesday she will be if you have to file the paperwork.” I’m not entirely sure he’s paying attention. “I’m going to call for phone records to cover our asses in case I’m a few days longer and you have to file the order.”
“Man, you got some bad luck.” TJ shakes his head, distracted by the tangle of our many lies. “First you get caught carjacking, then you have a mysterious disappearance,” he makes air quotes with the word disappearance, which I want to tell him are unnecessary, but I keep my mouth shut, “which I had to lie,—lie, Blake—to the scariest Judge in the Seventh District.”
“Which I compensated you for,” I tell him.
“Nah, that was a gift of thanks. ”
I roll my eyes and watch a woman with honey-golden hair jog past. The way the sun catches the strands makes me think of Daisy. An ache burns through my chest. I miss her.
“I lied because your stupid-ass disappeared, and had to file an order telling scary Old Judge Bryant your grandmother passed,” TJ continues. “Then grandma,” he uses the air quotes again and I resist punching him, “number two gets sick and you feed me some story about needing to travel to the mountains, which we all know is bullshit, but I still had to prepare more paperwork and prepare to lie, yet again.”
“I gave you a thank you gift for that one, too.” I stop walking to look at him. “And we’ve already covered that my disappearance wasn’t my fault.”
My mind flashes to those horrid days I’d rather forget. My unplanned vanishing act from my parole officer wasn’t exactly my fault. Disappearance? Kidnapping? Whatever, right? Whichever word was used to describe what happened to me didn’t change the fact I had gone off the radar and TJ couldn’t get a hold of me for many days. For whatever reason, TJ covered my sudden disappearance, telling Judge Bryant my grandmother had passed, and he’d just forgotten to file the paperwork for approval, saying his wife being pregnant with triplets nearly had him losing his mind. He’d risked his career for me and, for whatever reason, Judge Bryant let it slide with a warning and signed the day late order, anyway. I’d paid TJ handsomely, yeah, but that was all I could do to show my thanks. He’d asked where I’d gotten all that money and where the fuck had I gone, but then told me he didn’t really want to know as he pocketed the cash.
“Whatever man,” TJ says. “You keep your secrets and your bad luck. I don’t care. Just no more carjacking. I can’t cover for you then.”
“It wasn’t carjacking,” I growl. “And yes, I have bad luck, which is why you need to keep this story straight in case we have to use it.”
“Chill the fuck out. I got you.” TJ nods absently as he looks around. “Let’s do this.”
I resist rolling my eyes yet again and dig the envelope out of my pocket, then place it in his outstretched hand. His eyes dart in every direction and I punch his arm. “You’re the one who needs to chill the fuck out.”
“I’m trying,” he blurts out. “Not everyone can remain calm while they commit crimes.”
“The more suspicious you act, the more attention you draw to yourself,” I tell him. “That’s how people get caught. ”
“Sorry that I have little experience with taking bribes, lying to Judges, and carjacking, like you.”
“For the last time,” I say. “It wasn’t carjacking, it was joyriding.”
His dark eyes dart to me, his brows furrowing. “Excuse the fuck out of me, Mr. Car Thief, who only steals cars to drive them around joyously , and then puts them back.”
I scowl at him. “Carjacking is when you steal a car while a person is in it, usually at gunpoint. I didn’t do that. What I did was joyriding.”
He gives me a dry look. “Please forgive my misuse of criminal terminology. Not everyone takes bribes and steals cars to go joyriding .”
“It’s not like the guy was appreciating the car,” I mumble. “Who the fuck lets a 1965 Thunderbird convertible sit in their driveway every day and never bother to cover it?”
“Wait,” TJ says, backing away from me. “You said you came across the car by accident. How do you know it was sitting there?”
“Because I drove by the fucker’s house every day and saw it sitting there for months, completely neglected.”
TJ shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop my words from connecting with his ears. “Don’t tell me that shit. That’s premeditated shit. Not taking a random guy’s car for a joyride like you plead to the courts.”
I shrug. “He had it coming. All that money and no appreciation for it.”
“Fuck, Blake,” TJ whispers and looks up at the sky. “Stop talking.”
I glance at my watch again and motion to the envelope in TJ’s hands. “Are you going to put that away or do we want to let everyone know I handed you a ton of money?”
He glances down at the envelope. “It’s all here?”
“You know it is.” I don’t mention that I included an extra thousand. It’s not like I can use all the money I’m sitting on. TJ can.
He opens the flap and peeks inside. His eyes grow wide. “Hundreds? How do I hide hundreds from my wife?”
“Would you rather I had rolled in with a suitcase of fives and tens?” I ask. “Try hiding that, dumbass.”
TJ shoves the envelope in his pocket. “She’s going to fucking kill me if she finds out,” he murmurs, looking around again.
“This is the third time I’ve handed you money,” I say. Granted, I’ve never handed him so much. “Has your wife found it yet?”
“Not yet,” he says, “but she knows I’m doing something.”
“Probably because you stamped ‘guilty bribe taker’ on your forehead before your morning coffee.”
The woman from earlier jogs back by. She shoots a sour look our way.
“Great,” he says, watching her pace slow for a few steps, then speed up. “She probably thinks I’m buying drugs.”
I study his name brand jeans, button-down shirt, sweater vest, and loafers, then back up to his dark brown eyes framed in square glasses.
“TJ,” I say his name as patiently as possible. “In what galaxy does a man in a sweater vest and loafers buy drugs?”
He shakes his head, looking nervously around again. “It’s drugs. Everyone always thinks it’s drugs, or some other shady shit, when two men meet in a park.”
With an exaggerated sigh, I glance at his shoes again, then back up to the twisted locks falling around his face. “You look like a professor.”
“A professor that buys drugs.”
Damn, this man is paranoid. “Maybe they think I’m bribing you, so I get an A on my exam so I can stay in lacrosse.”
“Fuck you,” he growls, and looks down at his loafers. “My wife says I look distinguished.”
“I would reconsider taking fashion advice from a new mom of triplets. I don’t think she’s had a decent night’s sleep in months.” Actually, I know she hasn’t. TJ mentioned this last when we met for our weekly court-ordered check-in.
He pats the pocket of his pants absently. I resist the urge to pull his hand away and remind myself in the many months I’ve gotten to know TJ, he’s the worst liar, and an even worse criminal. I’d never have considered offering him money and risk his neck to cover for me, if it wasn’t important.
“Are we good?” I ask, again checking my watch. If I’m late, or worse, miss the flight…
I can’t even think about that. It felt like I waited an eternity for Daisy to show up and tell me it was time for another horrendous Gathering. As much as I disliked her entire family, and discovered I’m a little terrified of her yoga instructor mother, I’d do anything to spend more time with her, including handing my parole officer thousands of dollars.
TJ looks over at me, then around the park again. “We’re good.”
I nod and pat his arm. “I’ll call you in a few days. ”
He nods again and walks away, but then turns around. “Is she worth it?”
My eyes widen a little. I guess it’s pretty obvious I’m doing all this for a woman. “She’s worth it.”
He nods, then turns. “Her pussy must be gold.”
“Platinum,” I call after him.
He waves and then shoves his hands in his pockets before he heads back the way he came.
I glance at my watch, then break into a run to retrieve my duffle. If I can get a cab now, I’ll be able to make it. At the gates to the park, three cabs line the curb. Perfect. Opening the door to the first cab in line, I plop my bag on the seat.
The driver looks up from his phone and puts the car in gear. “Where to?”
I climb in and slam the door. “Silver Air Charters.”
The driver lets out a long whistle. “That’s going to take a minute with morning traffic.”
I grab two bills from my pocket and shove them towards the driver. “Can you make it in thirty?”
He eyes the hundreds, then me over the back seat. Plucking the bills from my hand, he shoves them in the pocket of his jeans. “I’ll do it in twenty if you got another one of those.”
** *
I swallow down bile as I step from the cab. He wasn’t lying. Twenty minutes after he peeled away from the curb at the park, tires screeching like Satan was chasing us, we pull into the parking lot of the airfield. The guy didn’t just speed. I’m pretty sure he broke more than a few laws and the sound barrier. I lean in the window and hand him another hundred. “Thanks for the ride. I almost vomited.”
A satisfied grin splits his face. “Anytime.” He snatches the bill to inspect it, along with the other two from his pocket.
“It’s as real as you and me.”
He smirks and puts the car in gear as I pull my bag from the seat and shut the door. Taking a second to stop the roiling in my stomach, I suck in a few deep breaths, inhaling the deep scent of warm asphalt and dry earth, trying to not only calm my stomach but the frantic beating of my heart at the thought of seeing Daisy.
Tires screech behind me and I turn to watch as the cabbie skids around the curve like a drag racer, cutting off an oncoming car. And I thought I was reckless. Me. The man who stole an old convertible and drove it over a hundred and fifteen miles an hour down the freeway, high on the adrenaline of…
Fuck. If I could go back to that night and change every detail, I would. I would never have…
Okay, stop, Blake. No use with would, shoulda, coulda’s. What’s done is done.
I pick up the bag and shake the thoughts from my head. There’s no point in regretting my choices. All my choices, whether they are good or bad, have led me right here. At the airfield where Daisy waits with her family ready to take a five-day trip. If I hadn’t gotten caught speeding in a stolen car, I wouldn’t be in the position I am now. I never would have met The Psycho and I wouldn’t be about to board a jet with Daisy. Hell, I would never have seen Daisy because I’d never have been in the library that day. Instead, I’d have been traveling to all those places I had written on that napkin the police confiscated. Tahiti, Thailand, Cancun. Names of places I promised myself I’d travel with all that money I had in my possession. The cops who arrested me swore the list of names were actually aliases for drug lords somewhere. They spent hours trying to get me to confess to being involved in a drug trafficking ring. Idiots. If they only knew .
I check my watch and walk towards the hangar. A man in a security suit with a large badge sewn on the arm and a shiny name tag walks out as I reach for the glass door leading to the office.
“Blake?” he asks, his voice raspy like a lifelong smoker, except he looks somewhere in his thirties.
“Yes?”
“You’re late.” His eyes move from my face to the large rolling duffle at my side.
Is he judging me? Should I have more luggage? As his eyes travel from my bag over to the gated entrance where a few minutes ago the cab squealed out, I knew I should have rented a car to bring me rather than taken a taxi. Super rich people hire private cars, right? To take them to private jets? The fake security job pays me a pretty penny, but not as much as what I’ve stashed in the offshore accounts. If I could get my hands on all of that money, I could get out of the position I’m in. Then I’d be able to keep the promise I made myself to be a better person.
“Traffic?” he asks, shaking me from my jumbled thoughts.
“Traffic,” I agree. “And my driver was late, so I had to take a cab.”
His mouth twitches, and I’m sure he knows I’m lying. I clamp my mouth shut. Rich people don’t make excuses. People wait for them, no questions asked. Schooling my face into a mask of indifference, I stare at the door, waiting for him to open it. He dips his head, then opens the door and I feel like an ass, but the surge of guilt gets washed away. The small office is empty. My heart shudders with disappointment when I don’t see her in the lobby.
“They are boarding,” he says, no doubt reading my expression.
I silently follow the man towards another door. A big swoosh of air pulls at my light button-down shirt, sucking it forward, and I’m hit with the scent of fuel. The door opens to a massive hanger with a small jet sitting at its center.
It’s like she’s a blinking beacon. My eyes find her within seconds. My chest squeezes. I grip the bag with my few changes of clothes tightly, trying to keep my face even.
It’s been five months. Five long, agonizing months.
Daisy stands near the opening of the hanger, her back to me, watching the tarmac. The early morning light leaks in, framing her in a brilliant, almost blinding glow. A warm breeze moves the pink dress around her thighs. It takes everything in me not to fall to my knees. I didn’t think I was going to see her again. I’d hoped, but after a few months, I didn’t think it was going to happen. After month four, I resigned myself to having to move forward in life with just the memories of that weekend and let her go. No more stalking her at the coffee shop. No more long scrolls through her Instagram feed. No more Daisy.
But she’s right here. Right now. And I’m the luckiest asshole alive that she asked me to be here today.
“Finally,” I hear George call from somewhere to my left. I swivel toward his voice, echoing off the metal walls. He waves from the foot of the stairs pulled up to the jet’s open door. “We thought you wouldn’t make it.”
I raise my hand in greeting but drop it as Daisy spins. The little pink dress swirls around her thighs as she comes to a stop, her hand at her throat. For a split second, I can barely focus on anything other than her delicate hand touching her neck, like she’s trying to apply enough pressure, so the air escapes. My mind, my eyes, my center-of-gravity, shifts in and out of focus as I’m utterly lost in her presence.
She’s just as beautiful as I remember.
Her perfect mouth opens in a small circle, like I’ve appeared out of thin air, surprising her. I release the handle and drop the bag. It thuds on the concrete floor. Daisy moves forward an inch. I take long strides—one, two, three — towards her, feeling my heart beating against my ribs. I know I have to look crazed. Starved. Like I’m rushing towards water after wandering in the desert. Her eyes lock onto mine. One more step, then another. The second I reach her, I weave my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and pull her to me, crushing her against my chest.
“Blake,” she breathes my name, making me think of her lightly moaning my name, just like this, as my tongue flicked over her perfect cunt.
“Daisy,” I whisper, wrapping my other hand around her waist until there is no space between us. Her fingers twist into the fabric of my shirt, tugging slightly. Her eyes glitter and seem to turn darker as her pupils dilate. Fuck, she’s going to kill me. This is how she looked right before she told me to fuck her. No, begged me to fuck her.
She opens her mouth to say something, but I grip her hair tightly in a fist and tilt her head back, enclosing my mouth over hers. She lets out a soft moan, making me wish I could take her right here. Every sensible thought leaves as I taste the sweetness of her mouth, feel her tongue gliding over mine, hear her heavy breaths. I’ve missed the taste of her. The feel of her lips. The heat of her .
I’ve wanted her so badly, it’s physically hurt. Resisting going to the coffee shop drove me crazy. Even though I wanted to see her, I respected our agreement and stayed away. Daisy had promised she’d come to me when it was time for another family Gathering. It was torture waiting for her to show up. Pure and utter torture, not knowing for certain if she would. I had feared that once she returned home, she’d forget. She’d change her mind. Whatever I’d done to convince her, or whatever bravery she’d found on our quick trip, would disappear and Daisy wouldn’t want to see me again. I was worried she’d realize she got caught up in a fantasy getaway, and once she regained her senses and fell back to reality, she’d…
She’d realize I was nothing more than a fucking fraud.
“Can we just not?” someone says behind me.
I break the kiss and but keep my eyes on Daisy. Lust hazes her green eyes, and she blinks several times, then presses her breasts to my chest harder. I tear my eyes away from her red, swollen lips and find Forest walking towards us, Amber clinging to his arm, smiling with a devilish grin.
I turn back to Daisy, not bothering to release my grip on her hair or put space between our bodies. Part of me knows I need to chill the fuck out, but I’m so excited to see her I want to wrap her in my arms tighter. A smile pulls at her lips, and I kiss the corner of her mouth.
Calm down, Blake. Take it down a notch. Several notches. You supposedly just saw her this morning. You’re her boyfriend that sees her all the time.
Forest shakes his head as he gets closer to where we stand. “You guys act like you haven’t seen each other in months.”
“Every second away from her feels like weeks.” I look into the vibrant green of her eyes, sparkling with the same intensity I feel. “And every hour, like days.”
“Oh, my fuck.” Forest sighs. “Is he always so dramatic?”
The little grin tugging at Daisy’s mouth breaks into a full-blown smile. My chest shutters, and I know for certain I’m in trouble.
“And every day feels like months,” she says, releasing the grip on my jacket. Releasing her feels like a sin, so I intertwine my fingers in hers just to keep touching her. The light tinkle of metal pulls my eyes to our joined hands. The delicate bracelet I gave her with the silly little charms dangles around her thin wrist. She’s wearing it. She remembered after five months to wear it. Good .
Forest makes an exaggerated gagging sound. “Can we go before this makes me vomit?”
Amber smacks her husband’s arm. “Why don’t you talk to me the way Blake talks to Daisy?”
Forest’s brows turn down. “Like a lovesick puppy?”
“Like a knight enchanted by a lady,” Amber says with a mock frown.
“Or a Lord about to rip the bodice off a fair virginal maiden.”
We all turn at the same time. A blonde woman with a petite frame stands just to my left. She must have crept up while we were talking.
“Justine!” Amber squeals and rushes forward, grabbing the little woman by her shoulders. “Lily didn’t say you were coming with us!”
I clench my teeth at Amber’s high-pitched screams, reminding me of a screeching owl. Out of Daisy’s entire family, Amber was the least offensive, but right now she’s grating on my brain. Amber turns back to where we all stand. I watch as Forest rolls his eyes until they land on Daisy. Daisy’s lip curls.
Note to self: Daisy does not like Justine.
This Justine woman is the same height as Daisy but seems smaller. The bright blue strapless dress shows off protruding collarbones and hugs her thin frame. She’s vaguely familiar, and I rack my brain, trying to place her. When I stalked Daisy’s social media, I remember seeing Justine’s smiling face in a few pictures. Was it with her sister Lily?
Bingo.
Justine is a part of Lily’s little social media group. Although Justine wasn’t in as many pictures as Erin, her face appeared enough that I remember her, but never looked her up. She didn’t seem important to Daisy, so she was unimportant to me.
“Lily sent me the invite yesterday,” Justine says, her eyes flicker to me, then back to Amber.
Daisy shoots a questioning look at Erin. Her hand tenses in mine, her palm now slightly clammy. “She did?”
Okay, so we have a history here and it’s not great. This Justine is obviously not someone Daisy likes, but the way Amber acts, she’s important. I offer the petite woman my hand. “I’m Blake, Daisy’s boyfriend.”
Justine lets out a small huffing sound, her mouth quirking up in the corner. I’m not sure what it means, but I feel Daisy tense next to me.
“Daisy has a boyfriend?” Justine asks, that little smirk still playing on her lips. Her eyes travel from my eyes to my chest, landing on my crotch. She offers her limp hand, which I grab and try to shake, but her wrist is too loose. Her smile widens. “Hello, Blake.”
I try to pump the demure little hand clasped to mine, but it’s like trying to hold on to pudding. Forest pulls the woman into a hard side hug and she releases her noodle hand from mine. Just touching her after Daisy feels gross.
“Are we ready?” Justine asks.
Forest looks at me. “It’s a three-hour flight. Can you not be gross with my sister for that long?”
Daisy smacks his arm, and then Amber hits his other.
I give Forest the same smile I’d given my father right before he’d punch me and tell me not to be a wiseass. “I can try.”