47. Raif
I’mon the terrace finishing my fourth whiskey and cigarette chaser when Leo calls my name. I turn back to the dining room as his head appears around the side of the door.
“She forgot the code again.” He tries not to smile, but his smile wins.
“I’m not sure she ever learned it.”
“Better get her a remote, then. She almost wiped the intercom out.”
“She drove here?”
“In the McLaren. Drove like she stole it.”
“Fast?” My heart beats twice in quick succession.
He shakes his head. “Like she was trying not to attract notice.” He grins. “She still nearly wiped the intercom out.”
“She probably thinks she’s returning it. Save her the cost of getting it towed.”
“It’s probably stuffed full of parking tickets,” he adds before disappearing.
After the boomeranging five million, I’d arranged for the McLaren to be delivered to the front of her building, once the ownership was transferred into her name.
A lot of angry texts were received that day.
My gut cramps as I step inside the house, my skin suddenly cool. The evening air or anticipation? Fear, more like. I’m exhausted, and my shoulders feel weighted down. Worry now that she’s here. Not that I’ve gotten her here.
Am I stupid for thinking I might get away with this?
Fuck it. Lavender refused to apply for a parking permit, beautiful but stubborn woman she is. I’m told by Primrose and Polly that the parking tickets have been mounting up, though I doubt they’d have a kind word to say to me if they knew the truth. But then there’s also Brin, the man who has every right to gloat but hasn’t.
They all say the same. She’s hurting. She’ll come around. She loves deeply.
Give her time.
I want to give her everything, but every night she isn’t in my bed, our bed, she feels further away from me.
I put down my glass as I hear the front door open. It doesn’t slam, out of deference for Daisy’s sleep only, I understand.
“You… twat!”
The dining room door swings open, and I duck as something narrowly misses my head. A half-empty plastic water bottle, judging by the swish, crinkle, and thud as it hits the wall, then the floor.
I turn to her, my heart in my throat. “I see you’ve come dressed for bed.”
She glances down, her eyes rising blue and fiery, like the flame of a Bunsen burner.
“You wish.”
“Always. I’ve missed you, princess. The loss comes in waves. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning for the want of you.”
“I… haven’t missed you,” she retorts with an imperial chin lift.
You’d think it would be hard to be dignified while wearing fluffy striped pajamas, but somehow, my wife manages it.
“I haven’t missed you one bit, you managing, finagling, interfering shithead!”
I feel myself frown. “Those are probably the least of what I am. I’m also besotted, head over heels in love with you, and missing you like I would miss a limb.”
Her eyes narrow, and she fumes. I can’t say I’ve ever watched anyone fume before.
“Love is so inconvenient, right, princess?”
Lavender huffs her agreement, her hands balling into fists by her thighs.
“Because it makes you want to put that somebody first. You want them to be happy above everything else. You told me you loved him once, remember?”
My princess scoffs. “Yeah, and you knew it wasn’t true.”
“Even before you did, I imagine.”
“And that’s what makes you a colossal turd! Tod told me he loved me tonight.”
“Was it everything you ever imagined?”
“You rotten, horrible bastard. You played with his emotions!”
“No, I think I helped him.” Helped him realize she wasn’t for him by the strength of her reactions, her response. I expect his heart curled up and hid behind his lungs. But he’ll recover.
T. Marius Homeland is no match for Lavender Deveraux.
“He told me a while ago that the only thing stopping him from declaring his love for you was his situation. His financial situation, I suppose. I just gave him a nudge in the right direction, that’s all. You’ve said yourself, you’re no longer mine.”
Lies. Lies. Lies.
“Well, you certainly gave him the means to propose.”
“What?” I take a step closer—an abortive one by force. “He proposed to you? Tonight?”
She nods. “I bet you don’t feel so clever now.”
“A proposal is a little premature.” I take that step. And another. “Unless you’re thinking of committing bigamy, which I don’t recommend.”
“Oh?” Does she realize she’s also stepping toward me?
Maybe she wants to improve her aim.
“You sent him to me with no intention of him winning. Because you love me.”
“I’ve never hidden that from you. From anyone.”
“But you have because the way your stupid lawyer tells it—”
“Former stupid lawyer.”
“All these plans you made, yet Daisy’s dad made it so easy for you in the end. I didn’t get that, so I rang your former stupid lawyer on the way over. Your former stupid cockhead coke head lawyer.”
“How is he?”
“As high as a kite. Again. He told me that day you could’ve dumped me after our wedding weekend and left me with nothing, but I wasn’t really listening to that bit. He explained there was no prenup necessary. That the papers weren’t filed.”
“But I hadn’t fucked you.” We’re so close now, the harsh fricative disturbs the wisps of her hair. “And I wanted to.”
“I know.”
“And you wanted to be fucked.”
She quirks a disparaging brow. “Says you.”
“Says the way your pussy throbbed around my fingers. Out on the terrace, your body under the blue sky. The sun was jealous. It had never seen anything lovelier.”
“Not the sun, you. You hadn’t seen anything lovelier. And you loved me. Two days in, and you were already mine.”
“You intrigued me.”
“I made you mad.”
“If love is maddening,” I whisper, pulling her into my embrace, “I don’t ever need sanity again.”
She sees my intention in the lowering of my head, so there’s time for her to pull away. Instead, she angles her chin, her mouth falling softly open as our lips meet. A kiss of promise, of desperation as my hands tighten and our bodies brush.
“That was quite a risk you took tonight,” she whispers as I pull back.
“Some might say a gamble. But all’s fair in love and cards, princess.”