Chapter 5 #2
He gave me a pointed look, then glanced over his shoulder when Kaia’s voice grew louder for a second.
Once his attention was on me again, he said, “I’ve been worried what he would do to hurt you, and how you would try to hurt him in response.
It’s clear that’s happened, and it’s hurting our team.
Meetings are strained. You’ve been a shell of yourself at the office, and it feels like one wrong look from any of us will cause you to implode.
You lost control during a detail. So, something’s gotta give.
“I know you’ve been grieving your mom,” he continued.
“And if this change in you was about her, we might be having a different conversation—I’ve had the same conversation with Evans multiple times because of his dad.
” He tipped his head and lowered his voice pointedly. “But you just admitted this isn’t.”
My stare drifted to his before shifting so I was staring straight ahead again. “Nothing happened between Gray and me,” I lied once I was sure Briggs was finished.
Briggs reached across the car seat to produce a floppy, stuffed bunny when Kaia’s exhausted voice broke through. Keeping his eyes on her, he spoke to me. “Try again.”
“Really,” I attempted with more assertion than before.
“But Gray—” Alarm pulsed through me when a lump formed in my throat, and I fought to control my emotions—something that was so much more difficult lately.
Or maybe it was just because I was admitting things I’d never admitted to anyone else.
“He’s still Gray, and I can’t keep watching it from my front row seat. ”
At that, Briggs turned to study me. “Have you ever tried telling him that?”
I thought about every woman he’d flirted with or attempted to pick up right in front of me. I thought of every phone number he’d gotten while I’d stood by his side. And, finally, I thought back to the look on his face when he’d found the wedding bands.
“Trust me, it’s better that I don’t,” I said resolutely.
A heavy sigh left Briggs. “Then what am I supposed to do? You’re saying you wanna work for me while telling me it’s gotten hard to continue working with Gray. I’m not firing him when he hasn’t done anything, and we can’t go on the way we have been.”
I resisted the urge to fidget or shift on my feet as that fear nearly choked me. “You’re letting me go?”
“I don’t want to,” he said honestly, “and I’d rather not because you’re good at what you do.”
I didn’t flush under his praise—I already knew I was good. Besides, there was an obvious but coming.
“But I need the old Monroe back, and that’s only if you still want to be there.”
My lips parted to tell him there was nowhere else I wanted to be, only to shut.
Even if Briggs separated Gray and me on every future detail, I’d still be near Gray every day.
I’d still have to see him and know that—even if our wedding hadn’t been planned or rational or any of those things—he still hadn’t waited twenty-four hours before slipping into someone else’s bed.
My heart wrenched at the reminder.
It felt like my soul shattered at the realization that this part of my life needed to come to an end, and there was nothing I could do to force back the tears filling my eyes. “It’d be better for Shadow if I left.”
Briggs was silent for a while as he playfully took Kaia’s bunny from her before offering it back.
When he spoke, disappointment filled each word.
“I don’t agree, but I won’t keep you somewhere that’s hurting you.
” When I nodded and took a step back, he added, “Do me a favor.” Turning that hardened, terrifying stare on me, he said, “Take two weeks. Do whatever—go wherever. If, at the end, you still feel the same, I’ll help you get a job anywhere you want. ”
I knew if I opened my mouth, I’d take back everything I’d just said and tell him I’d figure out a way to make it work, because I didn’t want a life outside of Shadow.
I didn’t want a life away from Hudson Gray . . .
Emotions really were complicated and completely useless.
So, instead of saying anything at all, I just gave a small nod of thanks and turned to leave.
“And consider telling Gray what you told me,” Briggs called after me.
I faltered for agonizing seconds before continuing toward where I’d parked.
I’m fairly certain I already did . . . I just can’t remember the night.
But even as I tried convincing myself that it would be best to separate myself from Shadow and Hudson Gray forever, I found myself scrambling for my phone when it chimed just after I made it into my Jeep Wrangler.
My pulse raced and my fingers trembled because, no matter what I tried making myself believe, I wanted nothing more than for the message to be from the infuriating man who held my shattered heart in his hands.
Every part of me deflated when I finally saw the message waiting for me. A message I’d gotten more times than I could count over the past six months.
Too Nice Neighbor Davis
Hey Mallory. I know you’ve been busy, but I was wondering . . . if you’re not doing anything tonight, could I take you to dinner?
I mentally chastised myself for the foolish hope still lingering in my veins and wondered what it said about me that I’d spent so many months avoiding a perfectly nice, normal guy, all because I was hopelessly in love with a man who’d never done anything more than obnoxiously flirt with me the way he did with every other woman.
My thumbs moved over the screen, tapping out my usual response, only to stop as I remembered the confident way Wren had spoken, as if she’d known she’d get Gray to come to her.
With aching slowness, I deleted every letter. After what felt like an eternity of warring over what I was about to do, I sent a short response, then dropped my phone into the cup holder as if it’d burned me.
Ignoring the instant regret and ache spearing my chest, I hurried to get out of the parking lot and away from Pearson Farms. The last thing I wanted was to be anywhere near Wren Pearson. But as I drove through the charming town of Huntley, I found myself turning onto its now-familiar main street.
Huntley Square boasted multiple blocks of boutiques, local restaurants, cafés, and other stores that screamed small town Texas with its brick roads and the old buildings that had been carefully and beautifully maintained.
The street came to a dead end, leading into a large square filled with food trucks, tables for people to gather at, and a stage for live music.
All throughout the aged oak trees surrounding the square, café lights were strung, completing the adorable, cozy vibe.
I loved living in Dallas, but there was just something about this street that called to me whenever I came into town—which was much more often now that Briggs and Thatch had both moved out here.
Climbing out of my Jeep once I finally found a place to park, I headed for the coffee shop near the front of the street and nearly walked right back out of it when I practically bowled over our administrative assistant—Thatch’s new wife—Chloe.
“Oh! Sorry, gosh—Mallory!” she exclaimed excitedly, her face lighting up like I was her favorite person in the world, when we hardly ever spoke.
“Hi. How are you? What are you doing in Huntley? I mean, not that you shouldn’t be here,” she hurried to backtrack, her cheeks reddening.
“I’m just surprised to see you. Happy, of course, but surprised. ”
“Someone new. Someone who wasn’t you.”
I forced Gray’s words from my mind, but that didn’t stop me from taking in Chloe and comparing us, as I often did.
Quite literally my opposite in every way.
More than half a foot shorter than my five-nine frame.
Curvy everywhere I was . . . well . . . not.
Freckles decorating her pale skin and bright red hair falling to her waist in subtle waves, whereas I looked like I’d been born and raised on the beach with my naturally tanned skin and blonde hair .
. . that probably looked like a wreck where it sat on the top of my head in a messy bun, since I’d been driving with the windows down.
She was once again looking adorable in a way I could never pull off, in a graphic tee and jeans.
Then again, she had the shirt knotted at her waist and, as always, had paired it all with stilettos and jewelry.
I’d worn heels exactly once, and that was for Briggs and Lainey’s wedding.
The only jewelry I owned was a gold band that was far too large for any of my fingers, and it was hanging from a chain around my neck. Not that anyone needed to know that.
And in my sports top and leggings, I looked like I’d come from the gym—since that’s where I’d been when I’d gotten the call from Briggs.
“Right,” Chloe said with a nod, her smile as bright as ever, even though I just realized I’d been standing there, staring at her. “Well, good to—”
“I had a meeting with Briggs,” I said over her.
Her eyes widened at that. I wasn’t sure if it was what I’d said, that I’d cut her off, or that I’d spoken to her at all.
Something about that had a seed of guilt blooming in my stomach because I really didn’t have an issue with her. She did her job well, and she was great for Thatch.
It was just that Gray had set his sights on her.
Like every other woman he saw.
“Is he home?” she asked, her lips pursing for a second as she glanced at the drinks in her hands. “I’m taking Lainey some tea because she hasn’t been feeling well, but I thought he was out. I should get something for him too.”
“I’m sure he’ll just appreciate you thinking of Lainey.”
Chloe glanced up at me, seeming to consider that, but then excitement stole across her face all over again. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
I seriously doubt that.
Chloe was the human form of sunshine. Again, I was the human equivalent of an aggressive dog. There was no way I was thinking whatever she was thinking.
“Uh . . .”
She quickly glanced around the shop before lowering her voice. “Lainey’s totally pregnant.”
My head shifted back. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected Chloe to say, but it hadn’t been that. “What makes you say that?”
Chloe made a face like it should’ve been obvious without being condescending. “She hasn’t been feeling well for a couple weeks now, but Asher keeps saying she isn’t sick.” She gave me an expectant, ecstatic look.
One I didn’t know how to reciprocate because I was wondering if I was truly that terrible at being a woman.
I was sure a normal woman would’ve put two and two together—Chloe clearly had. But I knew next to nothing about pregnancies, other than they happened and how.
Wait . . .
No, because . . . no.
Was this something I should’ve been worrying over?
No, because I would’ve known, right? Women surely knew. Chloe even knew about Lainey because Lainey had been sick. And I’d been fine. Other than losing my best friend and now my job, I’d been . . . well, normal.
And normal meant not pregnant, right?
Unfortunately, I’d blocked out everything they’d taught us in health class because, in my family, we don’t talk about that; even thinking about it makes you weak, and don’t bother coming home if you find yourself pregnant.
We hadn’t talked about a lot in our house. Feelings, my love for painting, when puberty hit, when Mom died . . .
Even during the times I’d found my mom all alone and had been allowed my small moments to break down, it’d only been that: a small moment. She’d always only given me exactly one minute to cry before telling me, “That’s enough. Force the rest back and be done with it.”
The one thing we had talked about in our house was the military and anything related to it.
“Mallory?” Chloe said, sounding like she’d said my name multiple times.
I blinked quickly, struggling to focus on her and the coffee shop we were in when it felt like my entire world had been upended for the second time in three months.
Only this time, it was by way of an unnecessary scare and the staggering form of an impossible-to-swallow pill at the realization that my family might’ve been horribly messed up.
“You okay?” Chloe asked gently.
“Of course,” I began, then cleared my throat as I did what I do best—forced it back. “Well, if that’s true, that’s great for them.”
Chloe’s head tilted, her brow furrowing. “You sure you’re okay?”
I just realized any chance I had at being a normal woman was yelled out of me by my drill instructor father, mocked and fought out of me by my four older brothers, and silenced by my mother.
No, I’m not okay.
Because, maybe if they hadn’t, Gray would look at me the way he looked at every other woman. But if I hadn’t been raised in such an—apparently—dysfunctional house, I would’ve never met him at all.
“I have to go,” I said, already turning and blindly reaching for the door we were still standing beside.
But as soon as I swung it open and set foot outside, I was pulled against a hard chest as arms wrapped tightly around me.
Before I could react to the assault, that familiar, woodsy scent hit me at the same second I realized the hold was meant to pour comfort and strength into me.
As if he could’ve somehow known I needed that.
As if I wasn’t so close to breaking because of him.
And for a second, my eyelids squeezed tightly shut to block the burning there as I sank into his embrace when he whispered, “I’ve got you, Princess.”