Chapter 7
chapter
seven
Izabel
I poured the rest of the coffee into my travel mug just as the microwave chimed with my leftover tostada from lunch the day before.
It was Monday, two days after Drake returned to my life.
After the scene in the kitchen, both of us pulled back into a cautious companionship.
Tension was thick. As if we weren’t sure whether we were enemies or lovers.
Familiar with unfamiliar. Our dynamics had irrevocably changed.
Our reality altered by the tragedy of the past three years.
After lunch at the neighborhood diner, I helped Drake sort out his stuff in the attic.
Our chats were on neutral topics like my job.
Drake was curious about Marcus, and I told him about his problem with alcohol.
Drake kept a stoic face as I updated him on his former commander’s life.
Since Drake had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, he retired to his bedroom early Saturday night.
Sunday, I took him to the Glen Ford neighborhood—the site of the Solace Foundation development. Despite the uncertainty of our relationship, I felt compelled to share an important part of my current life.
The neighborhood was built in the late seventies of predominantly ranch-style homes and A-frames.
When the recession of the eighties took a toll on its residents, families moved out, unable to sustain their mortgages, paving the way for the gangs to move in.
The area had become a ghetto. But with the influx of immigrants in the past decade, a kind of coexistence started to take shape.
The gangs were ever-present, but with the growing strength of the immigrants who were determined to make a better life for themselves, the economy in the area improved.
I had gotten close to several residents.
One of them was Luisa Romero, the owner of a popular taqueria in the area.
Knowing Drake had a weakness for tacos and tres leches cake made it a win-win destination, and it was a chance for me to show him my accomplishments. Although I wondered if I was uncomfortable being alone with him in the house.
Our conversations remained stilted—at least on my part. I wasn’t sure what to say, what was expected of me, and how to behave. Part of me wanted to hug the man he was. My body reacted to his electric presence, but it was my mind and heart that weren’t on board with simply melting into his arms.
I made a disgruntled sound as I headed over to the counter to collect the tostada. I slammed the microwave door with more strength than was necessary.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
I jumped and squinted at the owner of the voice.
Near the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the wall, was Drake, arms crossed and shirtless.
Again. Not only that, the top button of his jeans was undone, revealing that trail of hair that sexily disappeared below the waistband.
He still hadn’t trimmed his beard and smirked when he caught me looking at it.
He seemed more refreshed, and certainly more relaxed than I was.
Damn the man.
I knew what he was doing. Grr.
“Can you please put on a shirt when you’re in the house?”
A brow shot up. “As I recall, that didn’t bother you before.” His lips curled into a grin. “I take that back. You loved me without my shirt on.”
“Things are different now.”
Something flashed in his eyes. I knew that look. It was the gleam when he wanted to throttle me but would rather fuck me instead.
Warmth tingled between my legs.
Oh, hell no.
I took a bite of my tostada. “I’m late for work,” I muttered and grabbed the coffee tumbler.
“Hang on a sec. I’ll take you.”
I tried to dissuade him of that notion, but Drake had already disappeared up the stairs. What the hell did he mean he’d take me?
When my husband reappeared, casually walking up to me, I did my best to reward him with a death glare.
“You are not taking me to work.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Why?”
“So, I can pick you up after.”
“I thought you didn’t want Marcus to know you’re alive just yet.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to see he doesn’t find out.”
I huffed in annoyance. “I have to make visits to client sites.”
Drake hissed a breath. “I’ve got shit to do. Can’t drive you around all day.”
I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t expecting you to in the first place.” But instead of feeling relieved that he wouldn’t be chauffeuring me around, concern took over. “You got a lead on something?”
“Need to touch base with the team.”
“Is that where you went last night?”
The night prior, Drake left right after dinner, saying he had some errands to run. He didn’t return until two that morning. My recent insomnia kept me awake and I knew he was pacing outside my door. I held my breath for a while, thinking he’d knock, but he walked away instead.
Drake answered my question with a tight nod. No elaboration. Not a single word.
Resentment that’d been simmering over the weekend boiled over. “This isn’t going to work,” I burst out.
I’d surprised Drake with my reaction, judging from the flicker in his eyes.
“Give me a bit more time, baby, and I can tell?—”
“Three years weren’t enough?” I screamed. “Why come back now when you can’t commit fully to this marriage?”
His eyes turned cold. “This isn’t like you, Izabel. I have a job to do.”
“I’ve never stopped you from doing your job.” Reining in my overrun emotions, I shot him an arctic smile and yanked the door open. “So go ahead and do it.”
I did my best not to slam the door. I couldn’t go back to that.
To barely existing. I wasn’t going to waste another precious minute of my life on it.
I got into my car, backed down the driveway, and motored off.
When I reached the second stoplight, I noticed I was white-knuckling the steering wheel.
I was gripping it tight to prevent myself from shaking.
Muttering a curse, I parallel-parked beside the neighborhood sidewalk to calm myself.
I was angry.
Pissed. Off.
How did one go on after surviving the stages of grief, only to find out it was all for nothing?
When I arrived at the office, Cindy was already at her desk.
“So,” Cindy gushed as she came around to meet me.
“How did it go?” The sly smile on the twenty-eight-year-old blonde confused me until I remembered my date with Kyle on Friday.
That felt like ages ago after everything that happened over the weekend.
If there was one person who wanted me back in the saddle, it was Cindy. It was through her clever machinations that I ended up going to the Solace gala with Kyle, which in some way paved the way for him to ask me out.
At my pained smile, Cindy frowned. “What happened? Was he a jerk? Do I need to punch him in the nuts?”
“Slow down, slow down.” I laughed at the outraged expression on my friend’s face. Clearly her loyalty was to me. “Kyle was the perfect date.”
“Then what?” she squinted. “No chemistry?”
“Uh…”
“Bad kisser?”
I gave up and walked into my office.
“Bad in bed?”
“Cindy!” I exclaimed in a half-shocked, half-amused tone.
My friend chuckled. “You’re so fun to mess with. Seriously though, you need to get some action.”
I grimaced. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.” Especially after Drake pussy-blocked me on Friday. Not that I was ready to sleep with Kyle. I was a widow— was being the operative word.
What a mess.
More like a disaster.
Cindy sat in the chair in front of my desk, all levity gone from her adorably freckled face. Her blue eyes searched my countenance. “Okay, Maddox. Out with it.”
“I can’t talk about it,” I hedged.
“This isn’t about Drake, is it?” Cindy’s voice was so gentle, it made me cringe. “He’s been gone for three years. He would want you to find happiness again.”
I burst into hysterical laughter, startling my friend, but I couldn’t stop even when it sounded more like a cackle of bitterness than amusement. And once the laughter started, I couldn’t stop. Tears burned my eyes. I couldn’t determine if I wanted to laugh or cry.
Cindy grew alarmed. “Izabel, if you don’t say anything?—”
I pressed a forearm across my stomach because the spontaneous laughter started to hurt somewhere in the vicinity of my diaphragm. I held up a finger to signal Cindy to give me a moment.
“I’m sorry.” I gulped a deep breath and tried not to think that my “dead” husband wasn’t really dead. “I’d love to talk about it, but not right now.”
Cindy crossed her arms over her chest. “Something happened between Friday and now. I wish I had checked on you over the weekend, but I didn’t want to interrupt…just in case.” She resumed her teasing and waggled her brows.
A short laugh that was completely genuine this time escaped my lips. “Okay, Lake, we’ve got a busy day ahead.”
Cindy rose from the chair and clucked her tongue. “You’ve got a busy day with site visits. I’m stuck in the office all day while you get to spend time with hunky Harrelson. Hey, do you think he and I…?”
I cleared my throat as I looked over Cindy’s shoulder at the tall, sandy-haired gentleman who appeared at the door.
Cindy froze, face paling. “He’s standing behind me, isn’t he?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Marcus drawled. Drake’s former commander still had an imposing look about him, but tragedy had taken its toll, evident in the brackets around his mouth and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
And now it was hard to meet his gaze, much less imagining spending an entire day with him.
Flustered, I shuffled papers on my desk. “I don’t think I need your escort today, Marcus.”
The dead silence in the room forced me to look up. I ignored Cindy’s penetrating stare and held Marcus’s flinty regard.
“Something going on, Izzy?” Marcus asked, tone level.
I shrugged. “No. Why do you say that?” My tone went high-pitched with those last two words, so much so that I couldn’t help wincing.
“She’s been acting strangely this morning,” Cindy announced, crossing her arms again.
“Uh-huh, I can see that.” Marcus mimicked her movement.
“I’m right here, people,” I muttered, dropping onto my chair and spinning around to give them my back as I woke up my laptop to go through emails.
“The Solace Foundation site visit in Glen Ford is in the middle of the afternoon, and I’ve made enough friends in the community to be comfortable among them. ”
Marcus grunted his displeasure. “I gave you my report on them last week.”
“And I appreciate it, but I can’t be walking around their neighborhood with an armed escort beside me.”
“Tell me the reason again?” Marcus challenged. “Because we’ve played it so I’m your driver and not your bodyguard. So why is it suddenly a problem?”
I swiveled around and faced him. “I can’t be a hypocrite.
I fought so hard for this project. We gained enough sponsors because I believed in the industriousness of the immigrant population.
Given the same chance and the same support as everyone else, they can realize their American dreams. If I show up with a bodyguard every time, it’s like I don’t trust them to live a life other than being a criminal. ”
His face softened. “I get you now, but as part of this company’s security team, let me be the judge. All right?”
I was about to protest when Marcus held up his hand. “Can’t mess up, Izzy. I’m on probation right now and the evaluation of the Solace site is ongoing. We can’t let idealism trump operational procedure, especially after Bose got attacked by one of his foremen.”
Well, Mr. Bose could be an asshole, as I remembered the lone dissenter in the boardroom when I proposed the Solace project. It was a good thing the other owner, Mr. Stockman, threw his support behind me.
“Whew, so that’s settled, right?” Cindy asked. “Marcus’s going with you?”
I sighed. “Guess so.”
My driver/bodyguard glanced at his phone. “We’ve got Little Creek at ten, Newport News at one, and Glen Ford at three. Sound good?”
“Sounds about right.” I leaned back against my chair. “Thanks, Marcus.”
He tipped his chin at us, pivoted on his heel, and strode out the door.
Cindy bit her bottom lip. “Now that’s a gorgeous ass.”
“Stop drooling.”
“Hey, I know he’s not interested, okay? I just want to take care of him.”
“He’s a forty-four-year-old man. And how old are you?”
She scowled at me. “You know what I mean, and don’t tell me you were never worried about him.”
“He’s been sober for six months. I’m very hopeful this time.
” Cindy was more concerned for Marcus as a friend, just as most in the company were rallying around him.
It sucked to be the poster boy for a tragic past, and I wished Marcus was blessed with anonymity.
But his story was too big, and an overzealous reporter exposed Drake’s commander, compromising his identity as a SEAL.
But Marcus was too broken to even be considered for active duty.
He hadn’t eaten his gun. He’d battled his demons.
Apprehension rose inside me. How would Marcus react once he found out Drake was alive and confirmed that terrorists murdered his family?
A knock on the open door drew our eyes. Kyle stood there looking clean-cut and handsome in his expensive suit. The company brought him on as a senior manager for our commercial development department and had all the interns swooning at his feet with his golden-boy good looks.
The little spark that I’d felt for him last Friday had fizzled with the return of the dangerously sexy version of my husband. A stubborn part of me was mad at myself, but a larger part of me was relieved.
“Am I interrupting something?” Kyle asked uncertainly. Concern drew his brows together.
Cindy winced. “Uh, I’m out of here.”
I shot her a some-friend-you-are look. I hadn’t prepared my breakup speech. Wait , was there even something to break up? We’d been on one date.
As if reading my mind, Kyle’s shoulders drooped and disappointment washed over his features. “You’re backing out on our date Wednesday.”
“Something’s come up.”
Kyle gave a tight nod. “Tell me honestly. Did I come on too strong?”
“Friday night was perfect,” I said huskily. “I can’t explain right now, but it’s nothing you did.”
He was quiet for a while, looking at a spot on the carpet, as if contemplating his words carefully, then he raised his gaze. “Did I imagine our connection at dinner?”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “No, you didn’t.”
Another tight nod, followed by a long exhale. “I think I know why, but I’m not going to push you on it. You’ll have to open up your heart in your own time, Izabel. I’m willing to wait.”
He walked to the door, but paused right by the frame, turning back to me. “Your husband would want you to be happy. Think of that. In the meantime, I can be patient.” He smiled, his face brightening with determination. “You’re worth it.”
When he left, I buried my face in my hands. Aggravation stretched my already high-strung nerves.
The universe must be laughing.