21. Rigged To Detonate
Chapter 21
Rigged To Detonate
Ash
F uck love. Fuck it in all its iterations.
I’m through with the concept.
I damn near inked the words across my face as a reminder should I ever be stupid enough to risk that emotion again.
Thankfully, Braden talked me out of that idea, although we’ve almost come to blows a few times in the last few days.
He wants to know why I’m being a belligerent prick. As if I owe him an explanation.
Oh, I’m out of my mind, and the scary part is … I kinda like it.
At least I’m not moping around like a lovesick cow anymore.
Now I’m a raging fucking bull, and if you see me coming, get the hell out of my way.
I knew something was up with Eddie. I knew it, and I called Ori out on it, and the woman denied it time and again.
She claimed there was nothing between them. Eddie wasn’t overly attentive or caring. He was just a contractor, hired to restore her house.
Sure. More like they’re playing house.
Hell, she didn’t even try to hide her affection for the asshole—hugging him as he strutted from her apartment after doing God knows what to my woman.
The way she embraced him like he was her lifeline—or her lover. It didn’t matter. It was enough to light me up.
Wait. She’s not my woman. Not anymore.
Must keep reminding myself of that fact, as if the sting ever dulls.
Does Oriana Thorne really think I can’t find somewhere else to hang my hat and get my rocks off?
Have we met?
I have a black book that’s thicker than a phone book, for Christ’s sake.
A long list of women who want to fuck me, and trust me, I’m all about the hate fucking right now.
Casey from Ink Spot called yesterday, claiming she had some business to discuss about the tattoo tour, but I saw it for what it really was. A business facade for a night of pleasure.
I damn near caved.
Why the hell not, right?
I even accepted her offer … and then canceled an hour before arriving at her suite.
Why?
Because of Oriana fucking Thorne, that’s why.
The woman has destroyed me for other women.
Destroyed me, period.
How stupid can one man be? Honestly? I thought Ori’s teary expression and hesitancy to disclose her innermost thoughts had something to do with us.
I guess in a way it did.
She had ended any chance of our reconciliation without bothering to let me in on the knowledge. Then she had the audacity to flaunt her new man in front of me.
I hate her for wrecking me like this. It’s easier than admitting I still want her.
That I’ll probably always want her.
Like I said. I’m done with love.
The only upside? I’ve thrown myself into work and cranked out two weeks’ worth of labor on Rum & Ruin in three nights.
That’s what love will do for you. Break your heart and make you break a damn sweat, right after you’re done breaking a few walls.
Three new pieces of sheetrock are hanging as we speak, replacing the ones that met an untimely demise courtesy of my fists. At least I didn’t hit a beam. Small mercies, right?
But my mind won’t rest, no matter how hard my body begs to shut down. It circles back to memories of Ori and me, taunting me with happiness I was never meant to have.
Braden, Zane, and Lucille have steered clear of me, which is smart. I’m a powder keg with a short fuse. Just ask the UPS guy. Poor bastard left a package on the floor, and I went off like I was auditioning for a reality show about angry neighbors. He nodded, backed toward the door, and probably filed a mental note to avoid this address.
Truth is, I’m a mess, but I won’t stop long enough to let that fact sink in. To let it break me.
Trace says it’s only a week or so before he nails Kevin’s ass to the wall. I should feel relief. Instead, it’s like standing in front of a ticking bomb, waiting for the explosion.
And while I want Kevin gone for good, I’m in no rush to get there. There’s nothing left to look forward to anymore.
I’ve had women over the years ask why some men are so opposed to love.
This. This is why, ladies.
Because getting your heart ripped out and stomped on by the one person you thought might save you will destroy your faith in fairytales.
One thing’s for damn sure—I’m never falling again. My heart is now rigged to detonate if anyone dares come near it.
I haven’t seen the petite heartbreaker since that morning at her apartment, but when she finally decides to face me like an adult, there won’t be any friendly camaraderie. Not anymore.
We’ll go back to ignoring each other’s existence.
Guess we had it right the first time.
For now, my focus is on the speakeasy and getting her ready for the final inspection before opening night. One guarantee: I won’t have just one gorgeous woman on my arm that night. I’ll have my own personal harem.
Not that they’ll come close to the magic of Ori.
Shaking off thoughts of her, I grab the putty knife and set to work. That’s the thing about menial tasks: the rhythm is soothing, and I need that now more than ever.
That and blasting metal music.
Take that, One More Page . Hope you enjoy my song selection.
When a hand touches my shoulder, I jump, the putty knife skittering across the floor with a metallic clang.
Spinning around, I see who the hand belongs to, and my anger flares back a hundredfold.
“What the fuck do you want?” I bark at Eddie.
“Can you turn the music down?” He motions to his ears.
No, because that would drown out your screams while I pummel you into the ground.
With a scoff, I kill the music, crossing my arms against my chest. “Better?”
“Yeah. I’ve been calling your name, but you didn’t hear me. No surprise, right?”
“What do you want?”
Eddie points to a large, draped object by the door. “Ori wanted you to have this. Said you two talked about putting it in the speakeasy.”
“And she sends you to drop it off? Unbelievable. I don’t want anything from Ori.”
“You sure? It’s a great piece.” He pulls off the tape and blanket, revealing the etched mirror I’d admired all those months ago.
My chest tightens at the sight of it, but I force my voice to stay cold. “She should sell it. It’s worth a lot of money.”
“She wants you to have it, so I’m leaving it here. Do whatever the hell you want with it.” He wipes his hands against his jeans, then leans casually against the bar, his gaze sweeping the room. “Looks good in here. Real good.”
“Don’t expect an invitation.”
“I guess my sister shouldn’t expect one, either, huh?”
I freeze as I bend to grab the putty knife. “Do I know your sister?”
For half a second, my brain shoots off in the worst direction. Did I fuck his sister? I’ve been with a lot of women, but surely, I’d remember one related to this asshole.
Eddie chuckles, cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “Quite well. Oriana Thorne is my half-sister. We only recently came into each other’s lives.”
Wait. What?
The ground beneath me shifts. Eddie. Ori. Sister. The anger I’ve been clinging to suddenly feels hollow, like a weapon with no target.
“Your ... sister?” I repeat, dumbfounded.
“Yeah. Same dad,” he says, casually inspecting a dent in his knuckles like he didn’t just drop a bomb at my feet.
“How the hell did I not know this?”
“She didn’t either. Not for a long time. I knew Dad leaving was a sore spot, so I wanted to ease her into it.”
I drag a hand over my face, trying to make sense of it all. “But you don’t have the same last name.”
Eddie shakes his head. “I use my mother’s last name in business, since there’s already a well-known Edward Thorne.”
“Oh yeah, that fucking psycho serial killer.” Talk about an unlucky coincidence.
“That bastard pretty much killed my namesake,” Eddie says with a faint smirk. “Thanks to that asshole, I’ve got to introduce myself like I’m not about to steal your wallet or bury you in the woods. Not exactly a great opener if you’re trying to land a job.”
“Good point. Wait a minute. You’re not after Ori’s money, are you?” I ask, my voice still sharp, even though my earlier assumptions about Eddie are unraveling fast.
“I’ve got plenty of my own.” Eddie smirks, holding out his hand. “Still hate me?”
I stare at him, the pieces falling into place. Without saying it outright, he knows exactly why I lost my shit every time he came around.
“Fuck, man. I feel like an asshole.” I shake his hand, then pull him into a quick, brotherly hug. “I thought?—”
“I know,” he says, cutting me off with a knowing grin. “But you’ve got nothing to worry about from me. Unless you hurt Ori. Then we have a problem. A big problem.”
The mention of her name sends a pang of regret through me.
“She probably hates me right now,” I admit, running a hand through my messy hair.
“Nah,” Eddie says, his lips twitching. “But she’s pissed as hell at you.”
“I wish she’d told me.”
“Would you have listened?” Eddie raises a brow. “I was there, man. You saw me and were gone in sixty seconds flat.”
I tug at my beard, hating how right he is. My jealousy blinded me so completely I couldn’t see the truth staring me in the face.
“I’ll fix things with her,” I say firmly, the resolve settling in my chest. “And you’re always welcome at Rum & Ruin . VIP all the way.”
Eddie nods, his approval clear in the small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll take you up on that.”
“How is she?”
The grin falls from Eddie’s face. “Tired. Overwhelmed. Defeated. She’s asked me to find a buyer for the Dean Estate. Said there’s no point in continuing the repairs.”
My heart sinks at his words, especially since I know that I’m a central perpetrator in her angst. “You got work on the books right now? I’d like to hire you.”
Eddie glances around the speakeasy. “To help out here?”
“No. I want you to get the carriage house at the Dean Estate and the adjoining courtyard pristine and move-in ready. How long would that take?”
Eddie considers my request, working figures in his head. “About a week, ten days, if I worked two crews around the clock.”
“Can you do that?”
“I have the guys, but that’s going to cost a shit ton of money.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“But Ori wants to sell.”
“And I want a life with Ori. She loves that house and deep down, she still loves me. I want to do this for her—for us—to show her I’m serious. But I know she’ll say no, so can you just do it for me? Stall her for two weeks. Make up whatever bullshit excuse about getting the house or investors ready. We got a deal?”
Eddie hesitates, the conflict clear on his face. His jaw tightens as he glances toward the mirror, then back at me. “You’re really all in on this, huh?”
“All in.” I’ve been dancing around the idea of forever for years, but it’s different with Ori. She’s different. That house might be where I finally put a ring on her finger. Tonight, I’ll start looking. It’s time she knows I’m done running.
Eddie exhales, finally shaking his head with a small grin. “You know this is going to blow up in your face if she finds out, right?”
“That’s my risk to take. Can you do it?”
He lets out a low whistle, then extends his hand. “Fine. But if this backfires, you’re on your own.”
I grip his hand firmly, relief flooding my chest. “We got a deal?”
“One condition,” he says, his grin widening. “Free drinks on opening night.”
I chuckle and smack him lightly on the shoulder. “You got it. Hey, are you living with her now?”
Eddie nods. “Yeah. She invited me to crash on her couch after my short-term lease expired. I don’t think she wants to be alone. This whole situation—you, her, and Lucille—bothers her way more than she’ll admit.”
It bothers me way more, too, but I keep that to myself.
“I’m glad you’re there with her,” I say. “Watching over her. My life’s been so intense lately I haven’t been around as much as I want, even before this misunderstanding. Thanks for taking care of her.”
“It’s what we do.” Eddie gives a mock salute before turning toward the stairs. Then he pauses, looking back at me. “She loves you, man, but I think that idea terrifies her. So, be careful with her, huh? She’s been through enough.”
That’s an understatement.
As soon as Eddie leaves, I walk over to the mirror, running a thumb along the etched edges. It’s worth a small fortune, but Ori gave it to me. Even after everything.
The truth is, she’s given everything of herself this whole time, while I’ve dodged and weaved around the idea of love like a professional boxer.
Now she’s more scared of love than I ever was—and with better reason.
But I’ll be damned if this is how our story ends.
I walk upstairs into Black Lotus and knock on the reception desk, the sound drawing everyone’s attention. “I want to apologize for being an asshole the last few days.”
Braden cocks a brow at me, crossing his arms. “You want to tell us why?”
“Misunderstanding,” I say, keeping it vague, though the heat rising up my neck betrays me.
Lucille and Braden exchange glances, matching smiles spreading across their faces.
“Ori,” they say in stereo.
Fuck, am I that transparent?
“Yes, Ori,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “I messed up, and now I’m trying to fix it.”
Zane leans back in his chair, smirking. “I think Ash should buy us all dinner as an apology for being intolerable. What do you guys think?”
“Yes. I’m craving steak,” Braden says without hesitation.
“Ooh, and lobster,” Lucille chimes in with a wide grin.
“Bunch of savages,” I mutter, shaking my head but smiling for the first time in days. “Fine. We’ll go after closing, okay?”
As I turn to head toward my office, Braden’s voice catches me again.
“Hey, Ash.”
“Yeah?” I glance back.
Braden leans casually against the counter, his grin mischievous. “What are you buying Ori to make it up to her ?”
I hesitate for a beat, my gaze flicking toward the floor before meeting his. “I don’t know yet. A diamond ring, maybe.”
Braden whistles low, his grin widening. “Shit. You’re not messing around, are you?”
“Not this time,” I reply, my tone firmer than I expected.
“Welcome back, man,” he says, the teasing edge softening into something more genuine.
“Thanks.” For a moment, the weight I’ve been carrying feels lighter. I feel lighter, too.
Now I have a new mission—finding Ori the perfect ring.
Two days later, I suck in a deep breath and walk into One More Page right before closing, determined to right this latest in a string of wrongs.
I just wish I could tell Ori everything.
Soon enough.
“Hey.”
Ori glances up from behind the counter, a half-smile flitting across her face. “Hey yourself.”
“How was Manhattan? The conference?”
“Fine. It was nice to get away.”
Code for: nice to get the hell away from me.
My nerves threaten to overtake me. I feel like a teenager asking a girl on a first date. Hell, I wasn’t this nervous at the jeweler last night, though I nearly lost it when they assumed the ring was for Lucille.
I’ve been mired so deep in this crap I couldn’t see how it felt for Ori—how much this charade has torn her apart.
There’s a sadness in her now—she’s withdrawn, quiet.
I pull out my phone and glance at the photo of us on the beach in Florida. We’ll get back there again if it kills me.
“Do you need some coffee or something?” Ori asks, startling me.
“No, I need to apologize.”
Ori clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Go ahead.”
“He’s your brother?”
“Yep. Shocked the hell out of me, too. And if you hadn’t driven off like a lunatic, I would have introduced him as such.”
I wince, her words cutting deep. They’re deserved. “How much groveling is required to make up for my behavior?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand dismissively and averts her gaze.
“But I am worried,” I insist. “I was an asshole.”
“Agreed.”
“And I want to make it good. Make us good.”
She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “We are.”
“No, we aren’t.”
“Ash …” Ori runs a hand across her brow. “We’re fine.”
Screw this distance.
I step behind the counter, moving closer to her. I wrap my arms gently around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder.
“See, that’s the trouble,” I murmur. “Fine means we’re decent, tolerable, getting by. But I want us to be incredible. Amazing. Like we were in Florida, where there was nothing but the two of us. I replay those days over and over again.”
“Why?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Because I miss you, Ori. I miss us.” I tighten my hold, the feel of her anchoring me. Despite her size, she makes me feel safe. “You know, it’s my birthday on Friday.”
“Don’t know if you’re getting a gift this year. You’ve been a bit of an ass.”
I chuckle softly, the tension between us easing just a fraction. “You’re all I want for my birthday.”
“Still an ass,” she mutters, but there’s a faint lilt in her voice.
For a moment, she leans into me, and I swear I feel her soften. It’s fleeting, but it’s there.
I glance at her hand, bare and delicate, and wonder if she’s ready for what I have planned. Hell, if I’m ready. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided—she’s it for me.
“Still yours, too,” I whisper.
Her body stiffens, and she steps out of the circle of my arms. Her eyes shine with a raw pain. “Sometimes it’s easier not belonging to anyone,” she says quietly. “I think you had it right all along.”
The words hit like a fist, and before I can respond, she sighs and moves further away. “I have a headache, so can we talk tomorrow?”
Just like that, the vault on her emotions slams shut, and I know I have no one to blame but myself.
Like she said the other morning in the parking lot—baby steps.
Ori needs to be handled with care now, and that’s just what I’ll do.
I step to her side and brush her hair from her face, my fingers lingering against her cheek. Leaning in, I steal a tender, lingering kiss, gentle enough not to spook her.
“I’m here when you’re ready, Ori. You’re worth the wait.”