Chapter Twelve
Seven Years Ago
“Come with me,” I said, dragging him down the empty hallway.
All around us were the sounds of the party. Loud talking and louder music. The vibrations of many feet thumping across the floor. Dad had said the party was for me. Most of the people, however, were his friends from work and assorted neighbors. The cake had been a nice touch, but all of them were really just celebrating New Year’s.
“What’s going on?” asked Pete.
“Let’s get somewhere quiet where we can talk.” The minute my hand touched the doorknob, he dragged us both to a halt.
“Hold up—we don’t need to go in your room. Tell me whatever it is here.”
“But—”
“Adele, what is it?”
I frowned, the whole world sort of hazy, care of the amount of alcohol I’d consumed. Rum was maybe not my friend after all. But I’d needed the liquid courage to finally make my move. To stake my claim. God knows, I’d spent hours on my hair and makeup. Birthday money had paid for the blue halter-neck dress and heels. For once, Pete hadn’t brought a date. Everything was as perfect as it would ever be. The timing was right. Tonight would most definitely be the night.
This was right. You couldn’t feel so much for someone and have it not be right.
“Kid?” He leaned closer, his own grin warm and easy, scotch on his breath. “They’re going to count down to midnight soon. Don’t you want to be out on the deck for that with everyone else?”
This was harder than I’d thought it would be.
“Hey,” he said, voice heartbreakingly gentle. “You okay?”
I smashed my mouth against his. No holding back. No hesitation. For a moment, Pete just froze. Then he grabbed my upper arms, pushing me back.
“What the fuck?” he said, face confused, startled.
“I love you,” I blurted out. “I want us to be together. Think about it, Pete, I mean . . . doesn’t that make sense?”
“Fucking hell.”
“Who knows you better than me?” I carried on, refusing to be deterred. It was do or die. “We couldn’t before, but I’m old enough—”
His brows descended, forehead filled with lines. “You’re just a child.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes. You are.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I am not!” And to prove it, I tugged at the tie on my dress. Material fell down, exposing my more than adequate rack. Tada, breasts!
The expression on Pete’s face . . . the whites of his eyes. Holy shit, they were huge. And maybe not in a good way. Crap.
“What the hell is going on here?” Dad’s voice thundered down the hallway, almost shaking the whole damn house.
My mouth fell open, my hands covering myself. “Dad. No!”
But too late. Dad rushed at Pete, his fist flying. Bone crunched, blood sprayed, and Pete howled. Jesus! Yelling filled the hallway. In a flash, partygoers were crowding in to see the source of all the excitement—workers, family members, and all. My fingers fumbled at the tie on my dress, desperately trying to claw back some shreds of dignity as shocked voices and eyes clamored in on me. But some knots, once untied, are not so easy to make whole again.
My party had turned into a nightmare.
Wednesday Night . . . Now
The Spirit House was twenty minutes up the coast in the hinterland at Yandina. Lush tropical gardens surrounded the restaurant built over a pond. It was wonderful. Ornate Asian lanterns and dark wood furniture, plus the most amazing smells coming from the kitchen.
“What do you think?” asked Pete, sitting across from me.
“I think I’m going to like this date.”
“You’ve been working hard; you deserve it.” The candle on the table flickered, casting shadows on the sharp cut of his cheekbones and jaw. “And you look spectacular. That dress is something else.”
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
And he really did. Dark dress pants and a white button-down shirt with the top couple of buttons undone. There was something seriously sexy about his neck. I’d have to investigate it later. Meanwhile, I’d worn my chambray fitted midi dress. Since the last time I’d been wearing it we’d been on the outs (the Friday-night barbeque before the wedding), he probably hadn’t appreciated it properly. The way his gaze kept straying to the vee neckline, low without heading into dubious territory, told me he was now. It was lined and tailored, fancy enough for a night out at a nice restaurant. I’d worn my wavy hair down and taken care with my makeup. Tonight was important. Our first public outing as a couple.
I lifted my Thai basil daiquiri. Sounded strange, tasted amazing. “Here’s to my victory over Helga’s filing system.”
“You cracked it?”
“Block numbers,” I said. “So obvious when you think about it. But then when the files went to you and Dad, you saved them under client names. So you had two systems going on at once. I’m working on creating a second collection on the main computer of all current and upcoming projects saved under the name to make it easier to access information when people call.”
“Well done.”
“I didn’t realize updates were being inputted manually.”
He tipped his head. “We’ve always just emailed the file back to her. You don’t agree with that?”
“I think you need to talk to a tech company about updating,” I said. “Really, your devices should link and update automatically when in range. It would be far more efficient. Less chance for any human error.”
“Can’t say that your dad’s a huge fan of change.”
“True, but I think it would benefit the business. And that’s what he really wants.”
He sat back in his chair, looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time, or witnessing something new. Lately, he’d been doing that a lot. “He was right about you being good for the position.”
“That’s kind of you to say.”
“It’s just the truth,” he said. “Have you thought about it some more?”
I exhaled, turning to look out at the water, the lights reflecting on the surface. “There’s a lot to consider.”
Slowly, he nodded. “Yes, there is.”
We were so fragile and new. I wanted answers, but I knew better than to push. Mostly. “You asked me to stay for a while longer, not to move here.”
“Adele, I don’t know how it would affect things between us, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m just taking this day by day.” He reached out and took my hand, our fingers intertwining. His bigger, darker fingers against my more delicate pale skin. Maybe if I moved here, I could actually attempt a tan. Or at least a greater collection of freckles.
“Moving here, taking on the job, it needs to be your decision,” he said, thumb rubbing over the back of my hand.
“I know.” I picked up my drink, putting my dreams back on hold. Having patience when what you’ve always wanted was within reach was hard. I wanted him to say he wanted me here. All the time, not just for now. I wanted a lot of things. Everything I felt for him made it hard to set it all aside and just enjoy the moment. And Dad’s reaction to this thing between us had to be on his mind. I know it was on mine. But fuck it, I was an adult. Dad would have to deal.
“Anything else of interest happen today?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Matthew asked me out for a drink.”
“He fucking what?”
“Yeah, we’re good mates now.” I smiled. “Relax, would you? I think it was his way of trying to apologize for giving me crap at the Buck’s Party.”
“Tomorrow, Fitzy and I are going to talk.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Pete did not look convinced. “I told him to stay away from you.”
“I’m currently working there,” I said. “Interacting with me to some degree is probably necessary, don’t you think?”
He grumbled something I couldn’t hear.
It had been a busy couple of days. Every private moment we got, we were either talking or fucking. We were insatiable. Both of us more than a little sleep deprived, running on lust and other good feelings. All of the excitement and nerves that come with something new. I always knew he had an appetite, but I’d never had so much sex in my life. The way he looked when he reached for me sometimes made me wonder if the same was true for him. If we were both a little out of control, then that would be okay. But the need had to go both ways. That I knew for sure.
Our food got delivered, green duck curry for me and a beef dish for him with some sides. It smelled amazing, but sadly necessitated the separation of our hands.
Everything tasted delicious. My taste buds had never had it this good. When I moaned in pleasure, he looked at me with such heat in his eyes, it was as if he preferred me on the menu. Later, I had a feeling I just might be.
“Pete,” a familiar voice said, standing beside the table. “Lovely to see you.”
He stiffened. “Leona.”
“And you’re here with Adele. How nice.” She looked between us, a faint frown on her face. But she covered it quickly with a smile. “I was hoping to hear from you today. We need to talk.”
“Said everything I have to say.”
At that, she stared down at him, gaze tight with anger. Guess people didn’t say no to her often.
“We won’t hold you up,” he said. A clear dismissal.
Movements jerky, she walked away.
I felt bad for her. Though no one had made her invade his privacy. With our lust fest in full swing, however, I’d forgotten how efficient Pete could be at cutting people from his life. It was just a little chilling. God knows, I’d been on the receiving end of it. Seven long years of silence. Perhaps he’d gotten the ability from his father. Secretly, I had a theory that abandonment issues and rejection, his mom’s death followed by his father’s uselessness and complete lack of care, had formed this part of the man I loved. But then, it’s not like I was great at relationships either. My longest was four months and I’m reasonably certain he just hung around for the sex and because he was too polite to ghost. Both Pete and I were a bit of a mess. Maybe, just maybe, we’d make a whole together. Something good.
“How’s your food?” he asked, giving me a smile. But the mood was broken.
The one I gave him in return came less easily than earlier. “Great.”
Back in the car at the end of the night, he held my hand some more. All of the way home, then up the steps and into his house. We never did quite regain the mood. Maybe Leona hexed us. I’m certain I could feel her death glare from across the room at various points. Awkward as hell.
“That didn’t go quite as I planned,” he said, turning me in his arms. “Let’s see what I can do to fix things. Come here, beautiful.”
His mouth seduced me. His kiss took me over so easily it was embarrassing. I was a fool for him. Our tongues danced together, hands grabbing and greedy. The hunger never quite went away. It was always there, waiting for the next opportunity. Love, lust, and obsession were dangerously close.
I couldn’t tell if sex was our way of exposing our real selves and truly communicating.
Or if sex was what we fled to in order to avoid doing exactly that.
“You looked fucking edible tonight,” he whispered hoarsely, walking me backward. “On the counter, Adele.”
“Right here?”
“Yes. I’m done waiting.”
A stool was pushed aside and he lifted me up, placing my ass on the edge of the kitchen counter.
“Lie back,” he ordered.
The man was clearly on a mission. Hands slid up my legs, divesting me of my underwear in no time. My skirt was pushed up, legs spread open, and his mouth was on me. In me.
“Oh fuck. Pete.”
One of my legs hung over his shoulder, the other lying to the side. Not the most elegant of positions. But I didn’t care. Not when he was eating me like I was dessert. Like I was what he’d been craving. His tongue lapped at me, fingers holding me open. I was wet and swollen and crazed in no time. More than ready for him, but he wasn’t giving me his cock. Instead, he fucked me with his tongue.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he murmured.
The vibration of his words against my core rattled my very bones. I fisted my hand in his hair, holding him to me. Not that he’d made any effort to get away. Quite the opposite. Tension coiled deep inside me. His mouth sucked at my swollen lips, teeth grazing the tender flesh. Before his tongue slid over my clit, over and over.
“I’m so close,” I panted.
Pete groaned into me.
“What the hell?” The yell shattered the moment. A deep voice. Not Pete’s.
“Dad!”
Pete froze, his head buried between my legs. Shit. If only we’d made it to the bedroom, we might have actually had some warning we were about to have visitors. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“I don’t fucking believe this!” Dad bellowed.
“Really?” asked Shanti. “I must say, Andrew, I’m not surprised at all.”
Pete wiped his hand over his face, gently lifting my leg off his shoulder and drawing down my skirt. My heart was absolutely pounding. For all the wrong reasons now, however.
“Can we have a minute, please?” asked Pete, voice strained.
Dad swore some more and Pete looked at me. Dad and Shanti turned their backs, I guess to give us some privacy. What a clusterfuck. Still, they had to find out about us sometime. The strain showing on Pete’s face, however, was really not good.
“Easy,” he said, lifting me down.
My legs were trembling, dammit. God only knows where my underwear had gone. We’d been in a rush. Pete just stood there, watching me. And his eyes were cold, distant. My stomach sank through the floor.
“I thought I could trust you,” said Dad. “That’s why I asked you to partner in the business.”
“Of course you can trust him,” chided Shanti. “Calm down.”
“Then why the hell did we just find him doing that to my daughter?”
“Lower your voice, please, dear.”
Dad grunted.
“She’s twenty-five years old now, not eighteen.” Shanti stood with her back to us, hands on hips. “More than old enough to decide for herself who she wants to be with.”
“He’s forty.”
“And I’m eight years older than you. Does that matter?”
“Okay, we’re decent,” I said, crossing my arms. A purely defensive maneuver.
“So sorry for walking in unannounced, darling.” Shanti smiled serenely. “Your father was so worried about Helga and what was happening back here, I decided we might as well have our honeymoon another time. The weather was also miserable. We’ll go back to Bali when the sun is shining. It will be much nicer.”
I nodded, tried to smile. It didn’t work.
“Bali is not the issue right now.” Dad glared at Pete.
And Pete looked guilty as sin. Like he’d definitely been caught. His hands curled into fists, the hard line of his jaw tightening.
“You said all of this nonsense was on her.” Dad pointed the finger straight at me, his body rigid. “That nothing like that would ever happen again.”
“Your daughter’s feelings are not nonsense,” said Shanti. “They’re both adults, Andrew. If they want to screw on the kitchen counter then that’s their business. Not ours.”
Dad’s nostrils flared. “Honey, can you please stay out of this?”
“I will not.”
“Shanti—”
“You’re being absolutely ridiculous and you’re going to damage your relationship with your daughter, and your best friend and business partner, if you’re not careful.” Shanti opened her arms, walking toward me.
I met her halfway.
“Sorry about this, darling.”
I hugged her back, saying nothing. Everything inside me was in a state of upheaval. Shanti’s arm slid around my waist, her presence at my side solid and strong. I needed it; going from ecstasy to agony in under two minutes was a lot to take.
“I didn’t mean for anything to happen,” Pete finally spoke.
“Then why did it?” asked Dad.
Pete didn’t answer. Just shoved his hand through his thick dark hair, mouth a thin white line.
“Jesus, Pete,” said Dad. “Could you not keep it in your pants at least when it came to my daughter?”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I asked, turning to Pete, my voice suddenly tight. “Seriously?”
“Adele. Sweetheart.” Dad sighed. “I know you’ve had feelings for him for a long time. I’m not mad at you.”
I held up my hand. “Stop. Jesus, Dad, just stop. I’m not a child. This time, this is most definitely nothing to do with you and I need you to respect that and stay out of it.”
Dad just blinked. Then frowned. “But—”
“No.”
He sputtered, but held his silence.
Whatever. My quota of idiot males to deal with was already full. I stepped away from Shanti, needing to face Pete on my own. As an adult.
“You said you wanted to figure this out together,” I said. “That you hated the thought of me leaving. That I was important to you and you wanted to get used to this, me being here. What are you saying now, Pete? That you’re sorry?”
He stared back at me in silence.
“Talk to me. Help me understand this.”
“I meant all of that.” He took a breath, then swallowed hard. “But you were only planning on staying a few days. You weren’t sure about anything more, so I thought we could enjoy our time together. I thought that’s what you wanted.”
I said nothing.
Color infused his face. “Come on, Adele. You know it’s complicated. Your dad was always going to come back.”
“Yes,” I said. “And now he’s back, and he knows, so the most dramatic part is over. The question is, what are you going to do next?”
“This is my life here. Not just some vacation.”
“You honestly think you were just a fling for me?”
He looked at the ground. Asshole.
“You wanted us to get to know each other as adults? Well, this is who I am,” I said. “And I would never allow my job, friends, family, or even distance to dictate who I was involved with. Not if I really wanted to be with someone.”
He didn’t respond.
“I’m going to get my things,” I said, heading for the bedroom.
“I’ll help you pack.” Shanti followed.
I had no idea what Pete and Dad did or didn’t say to one another. I was past caring. My sole focus was on getting my shit and getting out before I burst into tears or did something equally stupid. I didn’t let loose. I couldn’t. Not until I was safely ensconced in my childhood bedroom across the street. In the quiet and dark, with a pillow over my head to muffle the noise. Then I’d let the tears flow.
Thursday
Getting a temp in for the business at that time of year wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped it would be. Every business in the region had people on vacation who needed covering. Either that, or the temps were off on vacation themselves. So I spent another day of my holidays at Helga’s desk, putting lists of information and instructions together for my eventual replacement. I also started talking to the local employment agencies, putting the job listing together in search of a permanent person. Since that obviously wouldn’t be me.
Truth be told, with every fiber of my heart, I wanted to get out of the place. Out of the house, out of the town, out of this entire world. Build me a rocket ship and send me into outer space already. But I wouldn’t run away. Not this time, scurrying away with my tail between my legs. There was a job here that needed doing. I was still here for Dad and Helga, and just because I’d said that I would do it. And damned if anything as trivial as a broken heart was going to stop me. Then, once the business was all sorted out, I would pack my bags and leave on my own terms and in my own time.
Dad had been quiet since last night. Restrained. I think Shanti had talked to him long into the night about what was and wasn’t acceptable for the father of an adult child. He’d told me I didn’t need to come into the office. How they’d figure something out. But that was bullshit—I knew the mess they were in. Helga had kept the place running. This side of the business was her sole domain and I was beginning to strongly suspect she’d hoarded information like candy. Not in a bad way. Just in a “don’t step on my toes or I’ll beat you with pictures of my grandchildren” kind of way.
Meanwhile, Pete had been out working at a site all day. This was good. The less we saw of one another the better. Like, forever and ever. How many times could you get your heart broken by the same person before you finally wised up? That was the question. And if he thought sending me flowers would smooth shit over, the man was sadly mistaken.
When he did come in, it was late. Later than I’d actually intended to be there. He strode past my desk, giving me side eyes. Cowardly fuck. I ignored him entirely. This tactic worked awesomely right up until he yelled at me from his office. I took my time, wandering on over to the doorway. Sometimes, petty victories were the way to go.
“What are these flowers doing in here?” he asked, glaring at the offending vase full of red roses and tropical blooms. They were spectacular, really.
“Well, I didn’t want them.”
“And you think I do?”
I crossed my arms, shrugged. “Give them to Leona if you like. I don’t really care.”
His gaze narrowed on me.
“Was that all?” I asked.
“Wait. You think I had something to do with these?”
Now I was confused. “You didn’t?”
Frown in place, he tore the little envelope off, ripping it open to read the card. Must have been a hard day. Smears of dust covered his face, his mood obviously every bit as good as mine.
“‘Dear Adele,’” he read. “‘I hear you’re still in town. Call me. Jeremy.’”
“Really? Huh.”
He held the card out to me, but I just waved it away.
“Shanti’s obviously been busy,” I said. “I mean, you can see how I would just assume they were some lame suck-up attempt from you.”
His tongue played behind his cheek. “I thought about sending some. Figured you’d just throw them at me.”
“That vase looks heavy too. It would hurt.”
“Yes, it would.”
“Let me guess,” I said, tapping a finger against my lips. “Were you going to run with the always golden ‘I hope we can still be friends’ line?”
“Had a bit more to say than that, actually.” He sat back in his chair, watching me. Bastard.
“‘Sorry I stuck my dick in you and then changed my mind?’” I rested my head against the door frame, getting comfortable. “That could look pretty on a card if you used the right font. A bit of calligraphy, maybe.”
“You think?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s quite poetic, really.”
He raised his brows. “I admit, I panicked last night. But I think calling it off is best for both of us.”
Wow. What fuckery. I honestly had nothing.
“I can see that now’s maybe not the best time to try to talk to you about this,” he continued. “What with us being at work, plus you apparently wanting to cut off my balls and wear them as earrings or something. Can you get these flowers out of here, please?”
“Pete, Pete, Pete. Give them to Leona or whoever is next on your fuck-friend list. Even better, take them to Helga and brighten up her day. I care not.” I sighed. “Or you could just watch them wither and die as you contemplate the fragility of life. I mean, what does it all mean? Though maybe you’ve already got it figured out and being alone is best. In the end, don’t we all just die alone, anyway?”
“Adele,” he said through gritted teeth.
I wiggled my fingers goodbye at him. Only to turn and find Dad waiting for me. Not so subtly listening to the entire conversation would be my bet.
“You ready to go, sweetheart?” he asked, apparently ignoring Pete. Their relationship was their business.
And our relationship was our business—and I was done. “Sounds good.”