Elliot #3
“But now, thanks to you, she’s going to be even more hell-bent on talking to me and trying to get me to understand why she did what she did.”
Dilynne scoffs. “As if there’s actually something she could say that would make it okay.”
“Trust me, I feel the same way.”
Dilynne grows quiet, clearly lost in thought, and all I can do is stare at her as she thinks.
Fuck, I hate that these past few months have made me look at her differently. And I hate my dick for reminding me of it in instances just like these.
Dilynne’s eyes snap to mine before she rolls her bottom lip between her teeth and arches a brow at me.
“Oh Jesus,” I say. “What the hell did you just realize?”
“Oh, this wasn’t just a realization, Elliot. This is a mastermind plan to help us both.”
“Help?” I stand from my desk again and point to the bag from the bakery.
“This is your idea of helping me, remember? And it’s only because I’m addicted to sugar and Carolina’s baked goods that I’ve put up with it over the past year.
But in case you need reminding, I don’t need your fucking help, Dilynne. ”
She narrows her eyes and steps closer to me until there are only a few inches of space between us. Then she licks her lips as her head tilts to the side. “I know your ego can’t possibly take much more harm today, but I’m going to sucker punch you anyway—metaphorically, of course.”
“Joy.”
She flicks me in the forehead, startling me, but I don’t get a chance to respond. “The Wicked Witch of the West is back, Elliot. This isn’t a game. This is war. And I know a thing or two about war.”
“Should I be concerned? Or did you serve in the Army and I just never knew about it?” She twists my nipple through my shirt this time. “Ow!”
“Let’s just agree that if I did serve in war, I’d last a lot longer than you.”
“Make your point or get out of my office, Dil.”
“Fine.” Inhaling deeply, she says, “I think the best way to prove Tori doesn’t have a second chance with you is to show her that you’ve moved on.”
My brows draw together. “Okay…”
“And what if the person you moved on to…is me?”
My mouth falls open. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She holds both hands up in front of her, grazing my chest and sending an electric current running through my torso down to my dick.
Jesus, not fucking now.
“Hear me out,” she continues. “The last thing you want is to reconcile with her, right?”
“Clearly.”
“So, once she realizes she doesn’t have a chance with you, she’ll leave. That girl doesn’t have it in her to fight.”
“Speaking from experience?”
Dilynne laughs. “Ha. I wish I’d thrown a fist in her face numerous times, but I’m not talking about physically.”
“But what do you get out of this arrangement?” I ask, trying to understand her motivation for doing this. She said this wasn’t just about me, but what the hell could Dilynne Clark need a fake boyfriend for?
Dilynne’s usual bravado falters as she clears her throat. “I, uh…”
But she doesn’t get a chance to finish because there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I say, watching Colby poke her head in through a crack in the door. “Hey, Collin Smith is on line one for you.” Her eyes flick to Dilynne. “Hey, Dilynne.”
“Hey, Colby. This asshole isn’t working you too hard, right?” Dilynne smacks my chest a few times.
Colby smiles as she shakes her head. “Not at all.”
“Good. ‘Cause if he does, I have no problem putting him in his place.” She turns to face me again, this time resting her hand on the center of my chest and batting her eyelashes up at me dramatically. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
I nearly choke on my saliva, but thankfully, I keep my composure and slip right back into our normal banter, but this time with a twist. “Funny, if I recall, you’re the one that likes to be punished.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say a flash of desire crosses her gaze before she blinks herself out of it. Smirking up at me, she pushes on her toes and plants a kiss to my cheek, but not before whispering, “We can talk more later, Grumpzilla.”
“Lucky me,” I mutter back before she spins around and smiles at Colby.
“Well, I’ve gotta run. Keep my man in line while I’m not here. Okay, Colby?”
Colby’s mouth drops open slightly, but she clears her throat. “Oh, uh…yeah, sure.”
Dilynne twists to face me from the doorway. “I’ll text you with the details.” And then she leaves.
Colby twists her head back and forth between the direction that Dilynne just sauntered and me. “Um…are you two…”
“It’s…complicated,” I reply, not sure how to answer her question because her little comment right there is going to start a fucking fire. And until I know exactly what Dilynne has up her sleeve, I think it’s safer if I don’t add fuel to the flames. “I need to answer that call.”
Colby perks up. “Oh, yes. Just uh…let me know if you need anything else.”
“I will.”
After my phone call with my client, my phone pings with a text.
Dilynne: Meet me at Blossom Brews at 6:30 tonight so we can talk.
Me: You really think talking about this in a public place is the best idea? And calling me your man in front of Colby? What were you thinking?
Dilynne: I’m planting seeds. Duh. BTW Justin will let us use the back room if we ask. And besides, I think if people saw us sitting together, they wouldn’t believe it anyway.
Me: So you just revealed a flaw in your own plan, genius. This isn’t going to work.
Dilynne: Stop being so negative, Grumpzilla. Just fucking meet me there or no more baked goods for you.
I should blow her off just so she will stop bringing me shit from Carolina’s bakery. But that’s when I open up the bag Dilynne brought earlier and take out three shortbread cookies, reading the words on top of each one.
I smell smoke. Were you thinking too hard again? A reluctant grin pulls at my mouth as I pick up the next one.
I envy everyone that hasn’t met you. Shaking my head, I mutter, “Fucking Dilynne.”
And then I pick up the last one. Out of all the sperm to win the race…
Tossing my head back, I laugh out loud. “Oh, fuck.”
I never knew that cookies with insults could brighten my day, and that right there is a fucking problem—because they shouldn’t, especially because of who they came from.
Yeah, this is never going to work. Dilynne might think this is a good idea, but I’m not stupid. Nothing good can come from this. And later, I’ll make sure she knows exactly where I stand.