Stud by Siskind, Kelly (12)

Twelve

Owen

I spent the cab ride to Tessa’s law firm coaching myself. Don’t lose my temper. Speak calmly. Slap on some Southern charm. The fact that she’d cancelled yesterday’s meeting and rescheduled for today was irritating at first, but I was over it. I replayed the good times we’d shared. I tried to picture us eating Chinese food on the floor of our house the night we’d moved in. I replayed snippets of Tessa’s “soulmate speech” from our wedding, rehearsed though it had been. I remembered the early days when we’d go for evening walks, talking with ease.

We were together nine years, married for eight, but the last six had been a struggle. Like we’d agreed to refinish opposite ends of a wood table, only to realize we’d used different stains, separate visions guiding us.

It was time to strip our relationship down to its bones.

The elevator ride to her floor was more of me repeating my silent mantra. Offer her a smile. Remind her of our history. Wish her the best for her future. By the time my feet hit the firm’s marble floor, positivity seeped from my pores. I would get this done. Convince her to tie up our loose ends. We’d loved each other once. We gave it a shot. All that was left was to torch our losses and move on. Especially when I had Ainsley waiting for me back home.

Ainsley and her toys.

I’d never had phone sex before. Never stroked myself so roughly or come so hard. It had taken all my willpower not to book a flight back to San Francisco the next day. But being with Ainsley meant dealing with Tessa, once and for all. Then I’d be free, and I could finally tell Ainsley about this mess.

It was a gift, her trusting me enough to open up about her ex, but I’d shut down afterward, couldn’t confess that I was accused of the same sordid behavior. She worked for assholes who cheated on their wives. She’d been dealt the same harsh hand. If I didn’t get Tessa to retract her claims, I’d likely lose Ainsley before we had a proper start.

I took a deep breath. Then two more. I straightened my tie and cracked my neck.

Treat her as good as Nana.

The office was a study in sleek, shiny surfaces, slicker lawyers to match. Everyone marched with purpose—briefcases swinging, arms pumping at their sides. I fell into step.

Tessa’s office was at the far corner. Our meeting was scheduled for this afternoon at my lawyer’s firm, but I wanted to have a private talk first. She didn’t know I was here, and neither did my attorney. He’d have given me hell for facing her without him, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If Tessa and I could begin face-to-face, kind words offered, I was sure we could wipe our slate clean.

So focused on my end goal, I nearly smacked into my old friend. “Caroline, wow. It’s been ages.”

She stood, brown eyes wide, as though stunned to see me.

Of all Tessa’s coworkers, Caroline was the one I’d adored. We’d often have dinner with her and her husband. Unable to convince Tessa to have kids, I’d doted on Caroline’s two girls, even playing dress-up and letting them paint my nails. I’d coached the oldest in soccer, and had used Caroline as my wing-woman, bouncing plays off her on the sidelines.

Sad, the people I’d lost when Tessa and I fell apart.

“It’s great to see you.” I moved aside to let others pass. “How’s Sam? She coaching her team yet?”

Instead of replying, Caroline’s lips pinched tight. She was a head shorter than me, but her fierce glare had me stepping back. “Don’t insult me by asking about my daughter.” She inched closer and dropped her voice to a fiery hiss. “Do you know how hard it is for a woman to get ahead in this firm? How much we sacrifice? It only works if we have someone in our lives we can count on. It’s not easy for Richard, being with me. But we made a promise to each other, and we fight to make it work. What you did to Tessa is an insult to all women. An insult to our friendship. I suggest not showing your face here again.”

There was no waver in her accusation. No hint of disbelief that I’d cheated on my wife.

A slow boil started in my marrow, heat searing my neck and ears. I’d helped drive Caroline’s girls around when her mother had passed away. She and Richard had invited us to their country home every fall. How could she swallow Tessa’s lies? “I don’t know what she told you, but none of it’s true. Not a word of it.”

Caroline’s smooth ponytail and suit were as polished as every surface in the place. She sharpened her scowl. “Save the bullshit for someone who cares.”

With that, she marched off, heels clicking, anger billowing. And my temper flared. No. Not flared. It erupted. All my serenity vanished, all positivity obliterated by white-hot fury. The emotion was potent. Raw. Tessa was the one who’d chosen work over me. She was the one who’d forgotten our anniversary and cancelled dates. Yet here I was, painted the villain.

I clawed at my tie, my breath coming hard and fast. Why would she ruin me like this? How could my close friends believe her? It all hurt so damn much.

Rage pumping through my veins, I plowed ahead and smacked shoulders with some asshole in a suit. I ignored Tessa’s secretary as she called for me to stop. I barged into the office I’d visited hundreds of times prior, my vision darkening at the edges. Gone was my inner calm. Annihilated were all happy memories of our time before.

All that remained was wrath.

Tessa glanced up from her desk. Her blond hair was shorter, her blunt bangs framing a symphony of expressions flitting across her face—surprise, fortitude, and something that resembled…hope. Which was odd. Probably another tactic. Manipulation Queen. She went to open her red lips, but I was faster. Or my temper was.

I didn’t speak nicely, couldn’t find my voice of reason. I curled my hands into fists and shouted, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” She reared back as though I’d slapped her. “You have some nerve, storming in here and hurling insults.”

“Nerve. Honest to God, you could teach a course in nerve. And I don’t get it. After years of neglecting our relationship, why the hell are you investing so much energy in it now?”

She leaned into her chair slowly and considered me. “I wasn’t the only one in our house. It takes two to tango. Don’t pretend like you hadn’t checked out of our marriage years ago.”

Always back to her same insanity. “I didn’t cheat on you.”

She steepled her fingers, exuding outward calm, but she couldn’t hide the telltale blotches at her neckline. “That’s not what I said, but, as usual, you hear what you want to hear. It’s amazing, though. After all this time, you’re still clinging to your lies.”

“Jesus, Tessa. We’re done. Finished. And I never once betrayed you. The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can end this mess. I’ve met someone, am finally finding some happiness. It would do you some good to stop obsessing over me and do the same. Move on, for God’s sake.”

A calculated glimmer lit behind her darkening glare, the same sharkish feature she displayed when she had an ace up her sleeve in a big case. Before she’d execute the killer blow.

“I will be moving on. From my lawyer. She suggested I accept our recent house offer, a ludicrously low amount. I was debating it, but after this lovely conversation, I’m having second thoughts. I’m wondering if my counsel has my best interests at heart. I think I’ll fire her.” A grin slithered across her face.

I nearly punched a wall. Finding a new lawyer and getting him or her up to speed meant things would be delayed for another eternity. More games. More tactics. Just to infuriate me.

Mission accomplished.

My flight home was a blur. My gums and teeth ached from clenching my jaw. My shirt and jeans itched at my skin. A sharp headache pierced the base of my skull until my temples felt ready to rupture. Goddamn Tessa. And fuck me for letting her scheming screw with my head.

All I’d done the past hours was replay our argument, and my stupidity in giving her the upper hand. The urge to contact Summer Daniels had also resurfaced.

Since thinking about her at the bar with Jimmy, she’d been on my mind, but it would have been selfish. When we’d met on the D.C. Habitat build, we’d both hit low points in our marriages, confiding in each other as we’d weathered our respective storms. Talking with someone going through similar turmoil had given me clarity, but I’d overstepped my bounds and had broken her trust back then. It was no surprise she’d shut me out, but it was because of her I’d found the courage to end my marriage. I needed to thank her for that one day.

By the time I landed and reached my truck, I could barely see straight. I moved by rote: Key. Ignition. Gas. Brake. It wasn’t until I was nearing the Habitat build that I realized my headlights had been pointed there. I’d planned to go home, wash the fiasco and disappointment from my skin, but there was something I needed more.

I parked opposite the site and turned off my truck. I sat. The thrum of the engine subsided, leaving a heavy stillness in its wake. I dragged a hand down my face.

Then I saw her.

Workers had begun heading home. Ainsley stood with her pink tool belt on and pink Converse, grinning, ponytail hanging out the back of her hardhat as she chatted with a volunteer. She was a vision, all bright smile and cupid lips. She was a breath of fresh air.

She was also my girlfriend.

Such a juvenile word to define our relationship. It didn’t come close to describing how one glimpse of her uncoiled the muscles in my neck and sent my heart beating back to life.

There was something else, too. It was unfamiliar, this intense ache migrating through me. A vise grip stopping my breath and clogging my throat. Not with anger. Not anymore. This was longing and rightness and fear that we were fleeting, too fragile to last.

I shoved open my door, needing to get her in my arms. Ainsley’s attention shot to me. Without looking away, she said something to the volunteer, who then laughed—probably at some dirty joke—and left Ainsley waiting for me.

My girl’s rounded cheeks shone, like she’d devoured a secret stash of Halloween candy. That vise grip on my lungs tightened. Mine. She was mine, and I wouldn’t let Tessa or her lies ruin us the way they’d ruined the other relationships in my life. God, did I need Ainsley in my life.

Instead of giving Nick and the remaining workers a show, I grabbed her hand and hauled her after me toward the nearest townhome.

“You’re back!” she squealed from behind me.

“You’re too far away.”

“You’re holding my hand.”

I walked faster. “I should be kneading your ass while I crush you against a wall and lick every inch of your body.”

She whimpered.

This urge to devour Ainsley was a wild buzz, more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. It took root in my gut, splintered through my limbs. It made me feel untethered and famished. Crackling with desire. And happy. The simplest of emotions brimming until my disastrous trip was nothing but a distant memory.

I could hear her scurrying to keep pace. Our palms were dampening, my grip on her slender fingers unforgiving. She didn’t seem to mind.

I led us into the half-finished building and tore into what would be a bathroom—a small space with a small window. The only room with a door. They must have installed the door since my last day, and the second I had Ainsley inside, I tried to shove it closed. It dug into the floor, jarring my arm. Guess I’d be leveling this out tomorrow. Today its only purpose was providing privacy for the sexual tension about to be obliterated.

Squaring my shoulder with the wood, I launched into its center, slamming it closed. Something rattled in the frame. My pulse rattled in my neck.

I spun around. “You’re still too far.”

Her blue eyes were heavy with lust. “Then get over here, cowboy.”

I descended upon her, knocking her hardhat off and capturing her lips with mine, groaning at the contact. It was instant, how she made me soft and hard at once, melting my angst yet shooting me full of steel. I plunged my tongue between her plump lips, a little rough and a lot needy, each swipe searing my mind. I groped her ass and waist and breasts. So many curves. Too much clothing.

Her teeth sunk into my bottom lip as she tried to climb my body. “You’re so tall.”

“You’re perfect.” I hoisted her up, latching her legs around my waist, and swiveled, slamming her back against the door with a violent thud.

A strangled oof pushed from her pretty mouth. “That’s sexier in the movies. I think I broke my spine.”

Head thrown back, I chuckled. “Doll, I fucking—”

Whoa.

Love you. That’s what I’d been about to say. In jest, maybe, an off-the-cuff fondness often offered to friends, but it was more. It was everything.

I’d only known Ainsley two months, not that long, but long enough to piece through my need to see her today and the whirl of emotions spinning through me and understand this was definitely more than infatuation. And she was in the dark about my past.

She had no clue I’d ever even been married.

Legs locked around me, she trailed wet kisses down my neck and along my collarbone, but I couldn’t reciprocate. Her openness in the face of my duplicity was too much.

Her teeth bit, her tongue licked. I was riled up, dying to see her creamy skin, but it didn’t feel right. She deserved to know. The basics, at least. She confessed a deep truth on the phone. I had to man up and offer the same. Find a way to explain Tessa’s accusations without losing the first person in years to make me feel alive.

I returned her kisses, exploring the column of her neck, the delicate lines of her ear. Then I pulled back. “We need to talk.”

“We need to kiss.”

It was hard to argue with her breathy sounds and rotating hips, her body plastered against mine, but this was important. Honesty was important.

I inched away from the door, lowering her so she could find her feet. My shirt was twisted. Hers was halfway up her stomach. Her eyes darted to my hand as I adjusted myself in my jeans. “We do need to kiss,” I said, “but I have some stuff I have to tell you.”

She tapped an impatient sneaker. “I’m not sure what you’re playing at, but I’m a tad horny, and unless you finish the job you started, and I get to strip you naked in the nearish-immediate future, I will die of blue bean.”

“Blue bean?”

“Blue bean.”

Even with my impending admission, this woman had me amused. “I don’t follow.”

“You get blue balls. I get blue bean. It’s not fun, so wipe that ridiculous grin off your face.”

I covered my mouth with my hand, unsure when my smile had gotten so wide. “Sounds painful.”

“You have no idea. So get on with whatever conversation is more important than saving your girlfriend from an excruciating death.”

I sobered quickly, shoving my hands in my pockets as I played the words in my mind. I had to say this right, not scare Ainsley off.

Before I could speak, she touched my cheek softly. “You’re making me nervous. What’s going on with you?”

Nothing. Everything. My life tumbling out of control. “I didn’t tell you the real reason I went to D.C.”

She snatched her hand back, like she’d been shocked. “You didn’t have to sell your house?” Confusion sunk in a line between her eyebrows. There was uncertainty there, too. Wariness.

I forged ahead. “No. I did have to. I still do, but there’s a reason it’s lingering on the market.” A stray nail was on the floor, and I rolled it under my boot. “I’m in the middle of an ugly divorce, and my ex is making things difficult. Including selling our house.”

Recoiling farther, she blinked and shook her head. “You’re married?”

God, the distress in her eyes. Her chest rose faster, while mine caved in. “No. I left her months ago. Nearly a year. It’s just the law and paperwork getting in the way of ending things.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I should have, right away, but I was hoping to clear things up on this trip. Hoped I could tell you the divorce was final.”

Her distrust was palpable, red blotches dotting her neck. Moisture glazed her beautiful eyes. It hurt worse than Caroline’s disdain at Tessa’s office and hearing Tessa’s lies. I should be making Ainsley smile, not causing her pain, tossing roadblocks in our way. And there was still one left to wedge between us. A massive boulder. But the second I opened my mouth to explain how bad things were for me, a tear slipped down Ainsley’s cheek.

Startled, she dashed it away. “God, I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m really not that girl. It’s just…” She fanned her face. “I think I need some air.”

“Oh, doll. No.” Unsure what to do, I pulled her into my chest. “It’s over with her. I promise. On my life. Please, don’t worry.”

But she would. Worse than this if she got wind of the slander I’d been dodging. I couldn’t risk it. Not this early. Not after Caroline’s venomous insults and Tessa’s newest antics. As long as Ainsley knew the facts, the truths of my divorce—that it existed, and that it was challenging—was all that mattered. The rest was fabrication, distortion. Lies that would be meaningless when our papers were finally signed.

Ainsley pressed her face into me, and wetness coated my T-shirt. She used it to wipe her nose. She could use me as her own personal Kleenex, for all I cared. Anything to make her feel better.

“Air,” she said again. “I’m fine. I really am. I just need air.”

I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. “Sure. We can talk about it after.”

Releasing her, I took two steps and yanked on the knob. The door didn’t budge. I gave it another hard pull. Nothing. Frowning, I gripped the damn thing with both hands and jerked with all my might. It moved a millimeter and jammed. “Fuck.”

I examined the edge, bending down to feel the warp of the floor, the slight upward slope preventing the door from moving.

“Owen…” Ainsley croaked my name, her voice dripping with distress. I whipped around to find her breathing harder, pure fear on her face. “Why isn’t the door open?”

That’s when I remembered her claustrophobia.