Chapter ThirtyNine
“Flower delivery for Mrs. Evelyn Dade?”
“It’s Evelyn Rey… Never mind.” I signed for the delivery. “Can you set them over on that box? Thank you.”
A bouquet of white and red roses wider than the front door of my new office sat perched on the box containing my brand new desk beside a sleeping Bell.
There was only one week left before Ivy & Quill Press officially opened its doors. Between sifting through my inbox, trying not to become overwhelmed with the daily influx of manuscripts and job applications, and getting the office in Soho ready for business, I was happy for the welcomed distractions.
Though, I was starting to stress out. There seemed to be a never-ending list of things to do. Chase up the missing furniture order, meet with potential employees, pick the first manuscript to publish—and as optimistic as I tried to remain, it was downright impossible to do it all in a week.
In hindsight, starting to paint all the office walls by myself wasn’t the smartest decision.
Rubbing paint from my hands onto my overalls, I waited until I could no longer distract myself with painting before plucking the card perched between the blooming roses.
My fingers traced the handwritten lettering on the front of the card, the familiar writing bringing the ever-lasting ache where comfort used to reside.
I knew the flowers were from Jaxon without having looked at the card, and though I knew it was wrong, I didn’t fight the tiniest of butterflies waking from their slumber.
Before I got the chance to read the other side, spiced midnight and coffee cut through the fresh paint.
I was afraid to look up as the familiar tingle of awareness jolted through me. It had only been a couple days since we saw each other last. The memory of him begging for forgiveness on his knees forced its way back into thought. Yet, as I slowly looked up, starting at his feet and working my way to his marble-sculpted face, oxygen evaporated from my lungs.
Tiredness still lined under his eyes, but he looked better.
He looked determined. Hopeful. Optimistic.
The smile breaking across his face was enough to stop my world spinning.
“Hi,” he said softly.
“What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms.
He motioned to the coffee cups in one hand and the box from Sinaroll in the other. “I was in the neighborhood and thought you might be hungry.”
My eyes narrowed. “Sinaroll isn’t in this neighborhood.”
“Isn’t it?” He shrugged with a boyish grin. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is there is a fresh cinnamon bun, with extra cream-cheese frosting, in the box with your name on it.”
Bell jumped down from her sleeping spot and beelined for Jaxon. The little traitor rubbed herself against his shins, demanding his attention all the whilst purring louder than a motorbike engine.
She forgave far too easily.
He smiled down at her. “I missed you too, little demon.”
Damn him, he was good.
“Well, thank you for the coffee and buns.” I cleared my throat. “If you leave it over there, I have things I need to get back to doing.”
He walked cautiously closer, every step controlled, as he scanned the half-painted walls and unopened boxes. The place was a mess. I knew that. I just needed an extra twenty hours in the day to try and get it ready for opening.
Opening with wet paint still on the walls and half the chairs missing wasn’t that bad of an idea, was it?
A line formed between his eyebrows. “Hand me a paintbrush.”
He shrugged off his suit jacket and started rolling up his creaseless, white shirt sleeves. I opened my mouth and closed it again at the sight of his tattooed forearms. My stomach flipped at the memories of those arms, those hands exploring every inch of me.
Over the table. In a cloakroom. At my very own work desk.
No, not helpful. Very un-fucking-helpful.
Those memories no longer served any good in my life. They were the past.
I needed to stay focused on the future.
“I don’t need your help.” I tore my eyes from him, ignoring the flush warming my cheeks. “You can go.”
“You open in a week, right?” He refused to stop smiling. It was so unlike him. “You can’t paint this entire place, unpack everything, and then clean it all in a week by yourself. Let me help you.”
Let me show you how sorry I am. Let me show you that everything between us was real.
“Don’t you have more pressing things to be doing?” I said bitterly. “Like running your own business? Or scheming with your brother to try and ruin someone else’s life?”
I regretted my choice of words instantly.
His smile faltered. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with you.”
The words were a sucker punch to the stomach.
I exhaled unsteadily. “You being here, it’s not a good idea. I understand you want to earn my forgiveness, that you think the lie we had is worth fighting for, but I don’t have the energy in me to keep telling you otherwise. I’m too tired, Jaxon.”
“Then let me help you,” he said. “I’ll paint. I’ll clean. I’ll build furniture. I’ll supply you with endless sugary caffeine, whatever you need to get this place ready for opening.”
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t even have to talk to me or look at me if you don’t want to.”
“And what do you get in return?”
“Aside from getting to spend time near you?” The boyish grin took hold once again. “One date is all I ask.”
“A date?” I shook my head. “What part of us spending time together isn’t a good idea, don’t you understand?”
A flash of defeat crossed his eyes before he blinked it away. “Don’t think of it as a date then. Just two people having dinner to celebrate getting this place ready for business. One dinner, that’s all I ask.”
It was a bad idea.
The worst idea.
Spending alone one-on-one time with Jaxon was as beneficial as sucking poison from a deadly snakebite.
I should have sent him away, demanded that he sign the papers, and get on the next flight out of New York.
I should have told him to leave me alone for good.
Instead, I lifted a paintbrush and handed it to him. “You can start with the walls at the front.”
Jaxon was true to his word.
He showed up every morning with two cups of coffee, a fresh bunch of flowers, and cinnamon buns.
On the second day he even brought a coffee cup filled with cream for Bell.
So much for him disliking animals.
I refused to speak one word to him, and he didn’t push it. He just seemed happy that I let him through the front door.
We fell into a somewhat comfortable silence after the first day.
Though, having him there was turning out to be as much of a blessing as a curse.
While Jaxon focused solely on painting and building all the furniture I ordered, including the missing pieces that showed up after Jaxon insisted he called them, I was able to focus on recruiting my team of staff and hand-selecting manuscripts.
The downside to having him so close, close enough that his aftershave lingered in every room I went, was that I found myself falling back into the comfortability of his presence.
Even with the silent barrier I erected between us.
At the end of our fourth day, I checked my watch and cursed. Fuck! It was nearly midnight.
I’d gotten so distracted trying to pick between my final two choices of manuscripts for the first publication that I completely lost track of time.
Rolling my neck side to side with a satisfying crack, I closed my laptop for the night.
I unpinned my hair, walking to the door. “Jaxon, are you still here? It’s time to call it a night.”
It was nearly impossible to get to the sight of Jaxon wearing anything different than a shirt and tie. He appeared with his cheeks smudged with paint, flecks of the blush pink highlighting his dark locks, and in his casual clothing of jeans and a T-shirt.
Only Jaxon Dade could make such simple clothing covered in paint look that good.
It was distracting. Whenever he walked by, splattered with pink paint, tattoos on show, and sweat trickling along his hairline, a tendril of desire curled in the depths of my stomach.
But having sex with my soon-to-be ex-husband was asking for trouble.
What we were was complicated enough without getting naked, no matter how good the sex was.
“Another two coats, and I reckon the place will be good to go,” he said. “Putain, I’m starving. You fancy grabbing a late dinner with me?”
The glint of hope in his eyes ripped my sternum open. Saying no to him was becoming increasingly difficult, just as I feared.
It was terrifying how having him back in my life for only a couple of days, how quickly the decisive lines I drew out, the forewarnings I told myself, threatened to melt away into nothing each time he looked at me.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You sure? There’s an amazing Italian place a couple doors down that I think you’ll love.”
I said nothing.
“You’re right. Let’s save our dinner date until the end of the week.”
“It’s not a date, remember?” I reminded him or reminded myself. “Just dinner as a thank you for all your help. That’s it. Nothing more.”
“Of course, my mistake,” he smirked. “Do you need a ride home?” He grabbed his motorcycle helmet. “Your helmet is outside in the seat compartment waiting for you.”
“Don’t call it that. It’s not my helmet.”
He smirked. “It’s yours. Always will be.”
I ignored him. “And like I said last night and the night before, no.” I walked out into the city air. The drop in temperature sent a jolt down my spine and woke me back up. “I’ll grab a cab. Goodnight.”
“Where’s Saunders?”
“He’s off on some overdue leave,” I said. “I don’t need him to drive me around everywhere. I’m a big girl, you know. I don’t need someone to hold my hand all the time.”
He scowled. “It’s not safe out here by yourself. I’ll wait with you until you get in one.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m perfectly safe hailing a cab on my own. Go home, Jaxon.”
He shook his head. “Not a chance. I’ll go home when I know you’re safe. You’d be safer on my bike, we both know that, but you’re too stubborn to accept my help.”
“I’m too stubborn?” I scoffed with a laugh. “Says the man who refuses to sign divorce papers. The same stubborn man who won’t listen to me when I tell him that we’re over.” My heart broke into a sprint. Anger bubbling over and spreading through my veins. “You think I’m the stubborn one here? Think you need to go and look in a mirror.”
I took off before he got the chance to respond, walking as fast as I could to put distance between us. Not that it mattered. Jaxon’s strides matched at least five of mine, meaning that he caught up in no time.
The anger and frustration fizzled out as the raindrops began to fall from the sky. As they dispersed, I was left with emptiness once again.
The same emptiness that kept growing.
The grief of losing my father.
The relief yet constant worrying about my brother.
The heart-shattering pain of walking away from my husband.
Each one of them fed the emptiness, helping it spread and consume more of me each day.
“Evelyn, I’m sorry.”
Wiping away what I hoped was a raindrop, I sighed. “You’ve been saying that a lot these days, Jaxon. Doesn’t it get tiring?”
“Not when it comes to you. I’ll tell you I’m sorry every day for the rest of my life, if it means that I get to see and talk to you.”
“You can’t spend your life that way.” I stopped walking. “It’s not fair on either of us. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive you, Jaxon. That’s the honest truth.” My hands ran through my damp hair. “You hovering around me, constantly apologizing, it’s not working.”
His throat bobbed. “Then tell me what you want from me. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”
I love him.
He lied.
I love him.
He lied…
Just when I thought it wasn’t possible to cry anymore, my damn eyes had other ideas. “That’s the thing,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure there is anything you can do. Maybe with time, it will hurt a little less to look at you. Maybe with time, my heart won’t break in two every time I think about what we had. With time, maybe just maybe I can learn to forgive you.”
“If it’s time you want, I can give you that. We have all the time in the world…”
“And space.”
His face fell flat.
My stomach twisted at the thought of not seeing him again. It was what I wanted, right? I wanted to move on with my life. I wanted to be able to focus on my new future, one where I could heal and hopefully find love again. Love with someone I trusted and who hadn’t betrayed me.
The truth was, I knew Jaxon would do everything in his power to win me back.
And the harsher truth was that in time I knew my heart would overrule my brain.
A life with Jaxon wasn’t possible, because without trust, the relationship would be doomed from the start.
“You said you’ll do anything.” Blood drummed in my ears, my body fighting against my words. “I need time and space. I need to learn how to forgive you and how to separate what I feel for you from what you’ve done.”
Raindrops fell thick and fast, racing down his cheekbones.
“I don’t hate you, Jaxon. It’s proving impossible for me to feel anything for you except lo… how I felt before.” I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. “But I don’t forgive you, not right now. And having you around me—it’s too much.”
“Is that what you really want?” he said thickly. “Because I can’t deny you anything, my love. Not a single thing, even if it kills me to do it.”
When it came to Jaxon, my heart always won.
But staring up at him through the rain, I fought against every natural instinct and decided it was about time to lock away my heart and temporarily lose the key.
“Okay,” Jaxon’s voice cracked. “I’ll wait forever for you, Evelyn. Take as long as you need.”