Chapter 9
9
ZARA
I turn around to get the fuck out of here when I hear squealing that would stop traffic in New York. I know some of the heads turn our way, and when I look, I see that he also looks over. Our eyes lock for a second, just long enough for his mouth to hang open, before I turn around to Amelia. “You’re here,” she says, taking me in her arms.
“I’m here.” I try not to make it seem like I’m literally dying inside, and I want to throw up all over the place. I became the person I hated the most in this world, the other fucking woman. The woman who slept with a man who has not only a wife but a child. I blink away the tears threatening to come out. “This is amazing.” I turn and see his son has pulled him away from the crowd to go to one of the tents.
“Come and see the tent we have set up for first grade.” She pulls me to the side, where a tent is set up with a rocking chair and a fake chimney with socks hanging from it. “It’s waiting for Santa,” she announces, sitting in the chair. “They can take pictures.”
“Oh, clever,” I reply, trying to stay hidden as much as I can. “Are all the tents a different theme?” I ask, looking around to see if I can spot him.
“Yes.” She gets up. “Then in the back”—she points at the other parking lot—“are the food trucks serving hot cocoa and hot cider.”
“Yum.” I don’t move an inch from my spot.
“In that corner is the petting zoo.” She points to the far right of the yard.
“This is such a great idea.”
“Inside in the gym is an auction that I beg of you to check out and bid on a couple of things.”
“You got it,” I agree when her phone rings in her hand. “Go take that, I’m going to go walk around and see things.”
“Text me where you are, and I’ll come find you,” she says, walking away from me, putting the phone to her ear. I take a minute, watching her disappear into the crowd before I turn and hightail my ass out of here.
“What the actual fuck,” I mutter, getting into the truck and turning it on. “He’s fucking married.”
I close my eyes as I pull out of the parking lot and wait maybe a full thirty minutes before I’m actually on the road back to Sofia’s house. “Married,” I repeat to myself, trying not to have an internal freak-out but failing fucking miserably. “With a child,” I say, making myself even sicker. “I need a drink.” I open the door and step out, reaching into my vest pocket for the key to the door and feeling nothing but fleece. “No-no-no-no-no,” I chant, reaching into the second pocket and feeling the same thing. “This isn’t happening to me.” I open my purse and search for the key I know is not in there. It’s in my green jacket at the door that I reminded myself to get before walking out of the house and forgot to do. I place my purse on the step before walking around the house to the back door, seeing if perhaps I left it open. Walking up the five steps to the door, I turn the handle, only to find it locked. I look around, seeing the window and wondering how mad she would be if I broke it and snuck into her house.
I walk back to the front of the house before sitting down on the step and dialing Sofia. “Hey,” she answers after two rings.
“Hi,” I say, “by any chance, would you have a hidden key outside your house?” I look at the side garden. “Perhaps, maybe under a potted plant?” She doesn’t have to answer me. Her laughter says it all. “I didn’t think so.” I close my eyes.
“Why?”
“I forgot to grab it on my way out, and now I’m sitting on the step, looking up at the stars.” My eyes find the stars that are twinkling in the clear sky. “I thought about it, reminded myself about it, but then I switched jackets, and boom, I’m now sitting outside with no way in.”
“Let me make a phone call,” she offers, and I groan.
“I feel so bad. They are all there at the Christmas thing. How mad would you be if I broke a window?” I look over my shoulder at said window I might break.
“Don’t you dare,” she warns. “That’s all I need, you breaking a window and getting hurt, and then your family will be like, they tried to kill her down there in the South.”
I can’t help but snort. “Fine, whatever, it’s no rush.”
“Got it,” she confirms and hangs up while I put the phone beside me to just take in the night. Something else I don’t do as much here is be on my phone. Instead, I just be in the moment with my thoughts. Five minutes later, she calls me back. “Okay, my cousin is going to come.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, and I promise after this, you won’t hear from me until, like, next week. But I am going to the grocery store tomorrow because you guys don’t have any delivery options here.”
“Welcome to the South. You can do this.”
“I can do this,” I agree, putting my phone down when we disconnect. I’m looking up at the stars with my elbows on my knees, just waiting.
The sound of someone approaching makes me look up, but all I can see are headlights. The truck stops behind mine, and the door opens on the black truck and one boot comes down before the other. My eyes roam from the boots to the jeans to the jacket to that fucking handsome gorgeous face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I throw my hands up in the air and spring up from the step. “Are your wife and kid in the car waiting for you?” I move my head to the side to check in his truck, and thank fucking God it’s empty because even I have to admit I sound like a lunatic. “You have some fucking nerve.”
He closes the distance to me. “Wait a second.” He holds up his hand. “If anyone should be pissed off in this situation, it’s me.” He shocks me so much I have no words, none. My mouth hangs open, then closes and then opens again, and nothing comes out. “Yeah, that’s right, Sweetheart, cat got your tongue?”
“Are you insane?” I finally find the words, which are not that much of a comeback, but they’re the only ones coming to mind. “Like, for real? You slept with me while your wife was at home?” I hiss, my head moving closer to him. “God, I can just imagine the dumb excuses you made.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Sorry I didn’t come home last night, a squirrel ate my keys.”
“Wife and kid? What the hell are you going on about?” He puts his hands on his hips.
“I’m talking about the child you were with at the Christmas fair, and don’t even pretend he isn’t your child. It’s like you cloned yourself.”
“Colson is my son,” he admits, “but I’m not married.”
“Oh, and the woman hanging off your arm like you hung the world and laughing at your lame-ass joke wasn’t with you?” I roll my eyes. “Please, spare me.”
“One, all my jokes are funny.” He holds up his finger. “And two, that was Patricia, who is Colson’s mother but not my wife, considering she is married to someone else,” he explains, and his eyebrows go up because whatever he was going to say, I could have bet it wasn’t going to be that. “Now, again, if anyone out of the two of us should be pissed, it should be me.” He points at himself.
“For what?” I shriek.
“For sneaking out on me in the middle of the night.”
“Okay, well, for one, it was the morning.” I glance to the side and avoid looking at him. “And two, I didn’t sneak out. It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”
He laughs, but you can tell it’s a fake laugh. “Did you make noise?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Or did you tippy-toe out of my office and get dressed in the hallway, hoping I wouldn’t wake up? Got to say, loved watching you run to your car.”
I gasp. “You spied on me?” I put my hand to my chest, suddenly not shocked the bar would have cameras. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Yeah,” he says, closing the gap to me, “and I can’t believe I’m going to do this either.” His hand grips my head and turns it to the side. His mouth crashes onto mine. I open my mouth, but I’m not sure if it’s to object or to make sure his tongue slides into my mouth. Either way, the two of us are making out in the middle of the driveway. His hand grips my hair tighter, while my hands come up to grip his jacket. I spent all week trying to remember what his kisses felt like. I would seek him out in my dreams, but nothing, and I mean nothing, can compare to the real thing.
“Fuck,” he groans when the phone in his pocket rings, “that’s Sofia.” He reaches behind him to grab the phone, only then letting my head go but gripping me around my waist to make sure I don’t go anywhere. “Yeah.” He puts the phone to his ear. “I just got here.” I bite my lower lip, trying to calm my nerves. “Oh, I’ll take care of her all right,” he assures her, and it sends a shiver through me. “Later.” He hangs up, putting the phone back in his pocket. “That was Sofia,” he confirms.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly.
“She wanted to make sure I got you the key for the door.” He fills me in as if I am not right in front of him and didn’t hear the whole conversation.
“Please tell me you are not Sofia’s cousin but instead a family friend,” I beg of him.
“Won’t lie to you, Sweetheart,” he says, and it’s as if my knees give out on me with just one fucking word— Sweetheart .
“Great.” I try to move away from him, but his grip around my waist just pulls me closer to him. “Just great. So are you like close cousins or distant cousins?” Please say distant, I silently plead.
“Close cousins,” he confirms softly and my eyes close.
“This is great,” I snap sarcastically. “How close would you be to Casey?”
“He’s my uncle.” My head literally hangs and hits his torso at the same time my hand comes up to lie on his chest. I smell the musk around me, and I swear my panties get wet.
“Well, this is just fabulous,” I mumble.
“We going to discuss why you ran out on me?” he asks, and I look up at him.
“Absolutely not,” I state with conviction. “I couldn’t think of anything else that I would not be doing. I’m going to need you to hand me the key, then get back in your truck, and we never speak of that night again.” I would try to move back, but it’s like he’s got a tight vise grip on me.
“So it’s okay for you to get all up in my face about me having a wife and kid, but it’s not okay for me to get into your face for taking off on me and sneaking out like a thief in the night?”
“That would be correct.” I hold out my hand. “So may I please have the key?”
“Sure thing, Sweetheart.” The way he says sweetheart, I feel like my stomach gets these stupid flutters I’ve never had. He reaches into his coat pocket to grab the key and give it to me, dropping it in the middle of my hand.
“Thank you,” I say softly, and his hand falls off my waist, letting me go. I walk over to the steps, picking up my purse before walking up to the door, putting the key in, then unlocking the door. I’m concentrating so hard I don’t feel him right behind me, standing on the little porch. I turn around to hand him the spare key and come face-to-face with his chest.
“We’re discussing the other night.” His voice is tight.
“No, we are not.” I’m adamant about this. There is no need to discuss it. It happened. That was then, and this is now.
“We are,” he says, as adamant as I am about this. “We sure the fuck are.” He looks down at me, and I can see a hint of his blue eyes in the darkness. I can feel his breath on my face, and I’m too busy trying to come up with the words to tell him that we are not. I’m too slow at my words because one of his hands comes up to grip my hip, while the other one cups my jaw. “We are going to talk about it,” he hisses. I think I stop breathing, or maybe I start breathing heavily. I don’t know because I’m so fixated on his tone and the way his hands feel on me. “And then I’m going to fuck you just like I’ve been dreaming about fucking you for the past fucking week.”