The woman—Amelia, I assumed—leaned back in the car for a second and shared a few words with whoever else was in the car dropping her off.
I wasn’t all that invested and really felt more impatient. I wanted to get food already, plus I was basically set up to hate this woman, so I was fairly certain anything she said or did was going to piss me off.
But as she leaned into the car, the other person leaned toward her just enough that I caught a glimpse of his face.
I froze.
It was Callum Reid.
Amelia kissed the corner of his mouth, then did a little finger waggle wave. My eyes felt like they were the size of saucers.
I did not just see Callum’s other girlfriend… did I?
Chapter Fourteen
Trent
Sarah leaned against the doorjamb, staring into the kitchen as I made a sandwich. Mayo. Then mustard. Then roast beef and cheese. Tomato, lettuce, onion. A couple of hot peppers—
“You’re disgusting, you know that, right?” Sarah told me mildly with a smile on her face.
I waved her off. “You’re just jealous of my awesome sandwich.”
“Sandwich, heartburn, yeah, it’s definitely one of those things.”
Smashing everything together, I slapped my sandwich on a plate and grabbed chips. I poured those liberally next to the sandwich. I grabbed some milk—because healthy eating was important to me, obviously—and walked my lovely meal toward the dining room.
Sarah followed me.
“Who eats a sandwich for dinner anyway?” she asked mildly.
I ignored her and sat down at the table, settling myself in for the meal. Just because she had no imagination on the obvious pros of eating sandwiches for dinner, didn’t mean I was equally as oblivious to the truth. I took that first, glorious bite. Food was food for the soul, I decided as I munched. But it was hard to eat in peace with Sarah just sitting there watching me.
I attempted to ignore her, because I felt a deep, serious conversation on the horizon, and I didn’t think I was going to like it. So as I chewed, I tried to think of other things.
Like my manuscript, except that was a horrible idea.
The damn thing was nowhere near done. I wasn’t making any progress, and my editor was breathing down my neck. Where was the inspiration supposed to be coming from? Maybe if the deadlines weren’t so close, or if I’d just had some damn time to really do my work… well, then I could work through this block and finally figure out just what it was that my story needed.
Novel concept.
But I doubted I was going to get much more in the way of extensions.
Suddenly, I was regretting thinking of the manuscript. It was making my sandwich taste like ash. Though in the end it was better than thinking of Amelia—or Courtney.
Amelia was in town.
Courtney refused to speak to me.
I tried to force thoughts of both girls from my mind. This was not what I needed to be thinking about right then.
“Have you told Courtney how you feel yet?”
And so much for not thinking about her. I dropped my sandwich down on my plate, because I really wasn’t hungry anymore. Sarah was looking at me with raised eyebrows, waiting for an answer to her question, and for a moment I wanted to strangle her.
Did she have to ask? Really?
I sat back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest, pouting like a petulant child, but I really didn’t care. “Yes,” I told her.
When she lifted a thick eyebrow skeptically, I uncrossed my arms.
“What? I did!”
“Okay.” She carefully pulled out a chair from the table and sat down across from me. She laid her elbows on the table and waited. “And?”
“And nothing,” I muttered.
“What do you mean nothing?”
“I mean nothing. That was what I got as an answer. Nothing. She didn’t even acknowledge it.”
Sarah’s face scrunched up into a frown. She wiggled her nose. “What? How could she not even acknowledge it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I never got a text back.”
Her face went blank, and then it shifted to one of annoyance, her lips mashed together and her eyebrows almost straight over her eyes.
“What?” I demanded.
“Are you telling me you texted her that you loved her?”
I hesitated. Although it didn’t sound bad, I had the feeling that there was something bad in her words. I suddenly didn’t want to tell her that that was exactly how I’d done it, but I had a feeling I’d already shot myself in the foot there.
“Um, maybe?”
She groaned. “Jesus, Trent! No wonder she hasn’t gotten back to you!”
“Jesus, what did I do? Girls make no fucking sense.”
She waved me off impatiently, wafting away my words as though they were a bad smell. “You’re an idiot and girls are not complicated. But no one wants to hear that someone loves them through a text message.”
“I text my grandmother that I love her all the time,” I pointed out. “She doesn’t mind.”
“You’re an idiot,” she deadpanned. “Your grandmother doesn’t mind because she already knows you love her. Genius. No girl wants to hear it for the first time via text message. ‘Luv ya, babe’ is not high on any girls’ list of romantic fantasy.”
The corners of my mouth turned down into a frown as a cold feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. Had I fucked this up already? It was sure starting to sound that way.
“What are you saying, then? That I need to tell her in person? ’Cause I’m pretty sure if I showed up at her apartment—which I have no idea where that is—she would freak out and get a restraining order against me for stalking.”
Sighing, Sarah shook her head. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m not telling you to say it in person, but I’m telling you you’re going to have to show her one way or another.”
“And by show, you mean…?” I prompted, motioning with my hand for her to continue.
“I’m saying big gesture it.”
I snorted. “I don’t do big gestures.”
She laughed at me, shaking her head at what she clearly thought was my ignorance. “Jesus, you are an idiot, aren’t you?”
I stuck out my tongue at her, just to prove her wrong.
Ignoring that, she said, “It’s your only hope at winning her over, so you should probably get with the program.”
I was not going to do a big gesture. Fuck that. I didn’t need to do something like that. People were either in love or they weren’t, right? Who needed all the bullshit that came with a grand gesture?
Of course, then I thought about it and realized I probably needed it.
“What kind of gesture?” I finally asked, not caring how much like a pansy I looked.
She grinned at me. “I don’t know. Climb the fire escape with roses.”
“No,” I told her flatly. “This is not Pretty Woman, and I feel like she’d take offense, considering the main girl in that was a prostitute.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe try tickets to her favorite show or, ooh, you could sing to her! A serenade. Chicks dig that.”
I groaned loudly and obnoxiously. “I am not serenading her! Are you crazy?”
“Fine. I really thought that one was good, but okay.” She thought about it for a moment before finally just shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe you should just write her a book.”
She pushed up out of her chair then and wished me luck, out of ideas. I watched her go, and it wasn’t until she was out of the room that it hit me.
A gesture.
A really big one.
One that was going to take some serious time.
“Sarah!” I called after her, shoving my chair back from the table and standing fast enough that it wobbled.
She came running back, startled. “What? What? What’s wrong?”
I grinned at her. “Go meet with Marnie and tell her that I’ll have the novel done in a month.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Uh, no. As in, no way in hell. I am not—”
But I ignored her protests. I was already halfway up the stairs. Inspiration had finally hit me, and I wasn’t going to waste a drop of it. This was my chance to make things come together, and maybe, it would save whatever was between myself and Courtney.
Chapter Fifteen
Marnie
I tapped my heel impatiently as I waited for Trent to show up—or to not, as he seemed to prefer these days. He was a thorn in my side, and if I hadn’t been made partner over him, I’d have tossed him to the curb already.
“He’s a best-selling author, Marnie. Get a grip,” I told myself, but it was difficult. I was frazzled more than usual these days. Between Trent’s complete lack of manuscript and Courtney’s… well, everything with Courtney, I was about losing my mind.
I thought of her words from the other day. Horrible. Mean. Deliberately targeted to hurt me. At least, that was what it felt like. And it was so unlike Courtney. We’d been friends since college, and when that friendship had transferred to the workplace, it had been seamless. We didn’t miss a beat.
But I was beginning to wonder if that had been more about a lack of romance in our lives rather than any special bond between us.
Courtney was a certified man hater, and all of a sudden she was moping excessively over some asshole that she knew was a player—not to mention the fact that he was my client.
And I was involved with Callum, a man whom I hated upon first meeting him. He also happened to be the owner of a rival company that my boss absolutely fucking hated.
Where the hell had we gone wrong?
I glanced at my wristwatch, and when I saw that Harvey was already five minutes late, I decided I would call him and wring his neck over the phone.
What a pain in my ass.
But before I’d completed dialing, there was a knock at my door.
I sighed. “Finally. C’mon in, Harvey. Let’s talk about your manuscript, which I still have not seen any of.”
“And you’re not going to.”
I looked up at the sound of a young woman’s voice. It wasn’t Trent Harvey standing in my office, but a young woman who was around my age, maybe a little younger, with thick hair and pale skin. She didn’t do much in the way of makeup, but she was pretty enough. A little plain, but attractive.
“I’m sorry, but this is a private office, and unless you have an appointment…”
She shook her head. “I’m here on behalf of Trent Harvey.”
My eyebrows tugged low over my eyes. Why was I not surprised? He sent some floozy to tell me he wouldn’t be here. How charming. I had half a thought to call Courtney and tell her that some woman was running errands for Harvey, but I didn’t think that was fair. I was out to hurt Courtney right now, emotionally anyway, because I felt slighted. But in a day or so, I might feel differently.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked flatly.
“I’m Sarah, Trent’s friend and unofficial secretary.”
My eyebrows shot up. I hadn’t heard anything about her… had I? Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure I had heard some mention about a Sarah. From Callum. Something about a young woman the equivalent of a little sister.
My stance relaxed slightly when I considered her in those terms. “Okay, and in that capacity, what are you doing here?”
“I’m just here to let you know that Trent won’t be here for the meeting—”
“You don’t say,” I interjected dryly. I couldn’t say I was even slightly surprised by that, even if I hadn’t expected this Sarah lady.
She continued without pausing to acknowledge my quip. “—but that you’ll have the manuscript next month.”
Now that actually was surprising. My eyebrows shot up high on my head, and I thought they might permanently disappear into my hair somewhere, that was how shocked I was by this.
“I was starting to think I’d never actually get a manuscript,” I told her, half-honestly.
She pursed her lips together, her eyes narrowing at me. Despite having never met the woman, there was no question in her stance or expression that she did not like me. I wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t. “Trent told you you’d have it. You’ll have it. He’s a man of his word.”
I snorted indelicately at that. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Sarah looked like she was about to puff up and say something about my tone, but before she got the chance, the door opened. Dorian poked his head in, grabbing the attention of both of us.
“Hey, hope I’m not interrupting.” His eyes darted to Sarah and lingered there, his gaze slipping over the whole of her before returning to her face. He stepped farther into the room and offered his hand and a smile to her. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Dorian Leeson.”
Sarah’s sour expression shifted almost instantly, and her voice warmed as she laughed a little. Her hand slipped into his, and they shook as she said, “For just a second I was sure you were going to say Dorian Gray.”
He laughed, too. “No such luck. I’m afraid I’m only mortal.”
“But you could be the model for his portrait,” she cooed, her cheeks reddening.
I rolled my eyes. Seriously? They were flirting in my office. Honest to God, I’m not even here, flirting in my office. Talk about disgusting. Folding my arms across my chest, I tapped the toe of my shoes against the floor as I waited for them to finish their ridiculous flirting and get them both out of my office.
“You flatter me,” he answered her. They were still shaking hands. “And who would want to paint me if they caught even a glimpse of you.”
I wanted to gag. Partially because Dorian was a flirt and this was par for the course as far as he was concerned, but also because, really? Her? She wasn’t ugly, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call her beautiful. Definitely not prettier than Dorian. He’d always been on the beautifully masculine side and everyone knew it. This woman? She was the picture the dictionary used to define Plain Jane.
But the woman ate it up. She laughed and her blush deepened, which actually worked in her favor. I had half an interest in telling her to wear a little blush, it looked so attractive on her, but I held my tongue. Last thing I wanted to do was get mixed up in their silliness.
“I appreciate the compliment, but I highly doubt that’s true,” Sarah said, batting her eyelashes girlishly.
I doubted it also but was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.
“Don’t doubt it for a second,” Dorian told her seriously. And then he actually fucking winked.
I wanted to die. Deciding I’d had enough, I cleared my throat. Both Dorian and Sarah looked startled, as though they’d completely forgotten I was even there. Even though this was my goddamn office. “Thank you for letting me know Mr. Harvey’s revised timeline,” I said diplomatically to Sarah. “I appreciate the effort, but as you can see, I do have other business to attend to.”
Sarah blinked her large eyes at me, a deer caught in the headlights. She coughed awkwardly, then pulled her hand away from Dorian’s. Finally. “Um, it was a pleasure to meet you,” she told him stiffly.
Dorian was unfazed by my interruption and her embarrassment both. “The pleasure, I assure you, was definitely all mine.”
She giggled, then coughed again to try to cover it. She smiled at Dorian and glared at me, then left my office. I’d never been so relieved to see a woman go before.
Dorian watched her until she was most definitely down the hall and in the elevator. He seemed unusually smitten with her.
“Not really your type, is she?” I asked pointedly when he was still staring after her, even when the elevator went down.
He finally turned back to look at me and grinned. “You don’t think so?”
I shrugged mildly. “I always pictured you with someone more high maintenance.”
He laughed. “I’m not sure that’s a vote of confidence for me.”
“We all have our weaknesses,” I told him prettily.
Shaking his head but still smiling, he propped his hip on the edge of my desk. “I have those papers for you. The ones for Odessa.” He offered them to me.
I took them gratefully and flipped idly through them. I’d wait until I was home before taking a closer look at them. “Thanks, I’ve been waiting on these.”
He nodded, pausing. “Was she a new client?” he asked casually.
I didn’t even look up at him from the papers, smirking at the documents. “No, she’s not. She’s Trent Harvey’s secretary.”
“A secretary?” He sounded surprised. “She’s got to be more than a secretary.”
I shook my head. “Secretary. That’s what she told me. Sure she’s still your type?”
He was pouting slightly, an amusing expression on his handsome face. He was older than me by several years—I’d never asked how many—but he looked about nineteen sometimes. Pouting like this? He could have passed for a high schooler.
“Jesus, wipe that pitiful look off your face,” I told him with a laugh. “Maybe she’s got more ambitious dreams.”
He nodded. “Maybe.” Shoving off from my desk, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He was such a kid sometimes. “Regardless. Let me know what’s going on with Harvey, and let me know if there are any more issues with the Odessa project.”
I thanked him and he left. I thought I was in the clear, but then I received a call at my desk. So much for getting out of there. I answered it and was surprised to hear the same cool voice of Sarah from earlier. “Sarah?”
“Sorry. I forgot to tell you that Trent or I will give you a firm date for final delivery in the next day or two,” she explained professionally, really sounding like a secretary. She reminded me of Courtney, which hurt a little bit, to be honest. “Other than that, you’re not going to hear from him. He won’t take your calls. He won’t answer emails. And he’s not going to show up for meetings.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. That’s how he works. He’s finally got his groove back, so don’t fuck it up by trying to get in his business,” she warned me.
“Fine,” I bit out. “Oh, since I have you on the line, you’re friends with Harvey, right?”
There was a pause, then a drawn-out “Yes. Why?”
“I assume you know Callum as well?” What are you doing, Marnie? A little voice in my head asked me. I ignored it. I knew what the hell I was doing.
“Of course.” She sounded stiff.
“Well, do you by any chance know where he is?” I prompted.
“I assume with Amelia. He’s been with her most of the last week.”
I froze.
Amelia? Who the hell was Amelia? And why was he spending the whole week with her when he fucking told me he’d been swamped with work?
I told myself not to freak out and to be calm. Obviously, there was an explanation for this. I’d just ask Sarah who Amelia was and everything would be fine…
“I have to go. I’ll text you the date when I get home.”
Before I had the chance to say another word to her, much less ask who the fuck Amelia was, she’d hung up.
I clutched my phone to my ear for a long time, listening to the dial tone. As I finally hung up, I had to ask myself: was Callum playing me?
Chapter Sixteen
Courtney
I ended up spending the following evening with Liz and her sister again. We hadn’t had to talk much the previous night as her sister, Amelia, had spent two minutes with us before apologizing and canceling. She cited an important interview as the reason, but I was skeptical.
Who had themselves dropped off at the restaurant to meet people they’d planned to meet with, only to turn around and cancel their evening events, catch a cab, and go to an interview?
It was all highly suspect, and I didn’t buy it. She said her phone had been demolished when she got in the car before dinner, but I had a feeling she was lying.
Or she was really just that ditzy, which was a pretty valid option.
But tonight, I was meeting up with the sisters again, this time at a nice little eatery with awesome outdoor seating. We put our orders in and made casual conversation.
Amelia spent a lot of time in Europe, and then along the East Coast, but she was really thrilled to be here in Washington now.
“Oh, I was going to ask you the other night,” I interjected casually, because whether I was fighting with Marnie or not, I had to know the truth to save my friend from any potential heartache. “Who was the guy that dropped you off?”
“Oh, Callum? He’s awesome,” she said, her face lighting up and her eyes practically sparkling. If she were the Barbie doll she looked like, I’d have thought someone painted those sparkly little diamonds on her eyes. “I mean, really. Absolutely wonderful. I just wouldn’t know what to do without him.”
My stomach dropped. Although I wanted to know, I’d secretly been hoping that I was wrong. That there was a reasonable explanation for who this woman was and what her connection to Callum was.
But this didn’t sound good.
“Yeah, Amelia is actually staying with him for a little while,” Liz added helpfully. She was seriously bored, stirring her drink which was now just ice. She was hitting the hard stuff early, thank you very much.
Amelia nodded. “Yeah. He’s so great. He doesn’t even get mad when I leave my bras hanging all over the place or run around in my pj’s.”
I pictured her scantily clad in lacy underthings and throwing bras all over Callum’s mansion. At least, I assumed it was a mansion. The guy was a fucking billionaire.
“I’ll bet he doesn’t,” I muttered, then plastered on a smile.
She smiled back. “I’m so lucky to have him in my life.”
If she said one more thing about how great Callum was and how lucky she was to be doing him, I was going to lose my shit. So I waved down a waiter and ordered another drink—one for Liz, too. She smiled at me gratefully.
Feeling rude, I turned to Amelia. “Did you want something other than water?” I asked her.
Her smile flickered, but she caught herself and forced it wider. “Oh, yes. An iced tea would be awesome. Virgin, please.”
I shrugged and added, “Also more water.”
The water nodded, then headed to put in our drink orders.
“How long were you planning on staying in the area?” Liz asked her stepsister.
The other woman thought about it for a long moment. “I’m really not sure, but I’ve been thinking about making it permanent.”
I felt like gagging. This woman thought she was going to be a permanent fixture in Callum’s life, and Callum was still sleeping with Marnie!
Hell. No.
I had to tell Marnie. Right now.
“I’m sorry, I know we just got here, but I swear I’ve already got to pee,” I told the others, smiling like I was embarrassed. I pushed back my chair to stand.
“Oh, no worries. We’ll wait on the drinks,” Amelia said with a smile. “We really need to catch up anyway.”
Liz looked at me with wide, pleading eyes. The message was clear: please, for the love of God, don’t take too long. I hurried off to the ladies’ room, feeling a little guilty for leaving Liz in her time of need. But I didn’t need to be. I just needed to make a phone call with a little bit of discretion and privacy.
I dialed Marnie’s number and prayed that she would answer.
“C’mon, c’mon, Marnie, pick up,” I hissed, impatiently pacing as the phone rang.
Just when I thought it was going to go to voicemail, she answered. “What do you want?”
Her tone was harsh and biting, but I ignored it. This was more important than our little tiff. “Liz’s sister is in town, the Stepford from hell? And she was dropped off yesterday by a man. That man was Callum.”
There was a pause, and for a second I thought the call had dropped.
“Hello? Marnie?”
“I’m here. Who was this woman?”
“Liz’s stepsister, I told you,” I said, exasperated. “And I wouldn’t necessarily think anything bad, but when I asked about him, she said she was living with him and he didn’t care if she was prancing around in panties or whatever!”
For a second, all I could hear was Marnie’s breathing, and it didn’t sound like the good kind of breathing. She sounded like she was trying really hard not to panic.
I felt like a real piece of shit to have to tell her this, but someone had to. I wasn’t going to let her get hurt by a player who was lying to her.
Like I was.
“Marnie?” I prompted gently.
“What’s her name?”
“Amelia. Why?”
The next thing I heard was something terrible, something I hadn’t heard from Marnie in years. A sob.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered.
She collected herself enough to speak. “Fuck, Court, I was just in a meeting with this girl, Sarah. Jesus, she’s Harvey’s secretary, and I was stupid enough to ask her about Callum. I asked where he’s been lately. She said that he was with Amelia all week!”
And just like that, it was confirmed. Callum was a lying, cheating son of a bitch.
“Court, do you think Callum’s cheating on me?”
I wanted to be able to tell her that he wasn’t. That everything was fine. That they would be great together forever and live happily ever after. But I knew better. “I don’t know, Marnie, but… but it really looks that way.”
Marnie thanked me and suddenly all the anger between us melted away. We were friends, just like we’d always been, and friends stuck together. I wished I was there to comfort her.
“We’ll get lunch tomorrow,” I promised, and she agreed.
We hung up then. The whole confirmation had done one thing for certain. It had reaffirmed my theory that all men were inherently assholes.
Chapter Seventeen
Marnie
It was a miracle I didn’t wreck my damn car. Tears streamed down my face for the majority of the drive. My skin was blotchy when I checked it in the rearview mirror, my freckles a deeper shade of red and my pale skin spotted with deep fountains of red. But my makeup was intact.
I’d never been so grateful for waterproof mascara.
Not that it matters. I’m here to tell him off, not woo him with my looks.
The thought tried hard to bring on another bout of tears, but I managed to hold them back. I’d pulled my car to a stop outside of his home, a stylish house with a brick façade and an overgrown fence around the front yard.
The fact that it had a yard alone spoke of money.
I got out of my car and slammed it. I steeled myself for the sparring match that was about to take place, but at least I had all the cards. I’d tell him that I knew about Amelia, that I wasn’t going to be played by any man, and if he thought he could have a little something on the side, he had another thing coming.
I marched up the steps to his front door and knocked. When he didn’t answer immediately, I knocked again. I was about to knock a third time when he finally came to the door.
“Marnie? What are you doing here?” He was dressed in a pair of sweats that were hanging low on his hips and a white tank top that outlined all of those sexy muscles that I loved so much.
But not enough to stay with a cheater.
“Are you a little surprised to see me?” I challenged, working hard to keep the trembling from my voice. “Well, I’ve got news for you, asshole: I know everything. I know what’s going on.”
His eyebrows rose high on his forehead, and there was a genuine look of surprise on his features.
Well, he was in for a real surprise.
“What are you talking about? You know what?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and stood to my full height, straightening my back and lifting my shoulders. “Who the hell is Amelia, and how long have you been fucking her?”
I thought guilt would flash instantly across his face. I thought he’d give himself immediately away, incriminating himself and revealing the truth. That he was cheating on me.
But none of that happened. Instead, surprise remained on his features for several long moments before slipping into confusion. His eyebrows pinched together, and he tilted his head to the side.
“I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?” he repeated with a little more emphasis this time.
“You heard me. I know all about Amelia.”
“Doubtful,” he told me, and his mouth tugged into a smirk as amusement slipped across his features.
“Excuse me? Are you seriously going to stand there and try to deny it?”
“Deny that I’m sleeping with my sister? Absolutely.”
I blinked. “What?”
His smirk turned into a genuine smile. “Amelia. She’s my little sister.”
Sister? Was that… possible?
The anger left me in a rush as the possibility that there really was a reasonable explanation for everything hit me. Sister.
“If she’s your sister, why didn’t you tell me about her?”
He sighed. “Come in.” When I didn’t move, he stepped aside and added, “Please? I’m not going to explain to you while you stand on my front porch. That’s just rude.”
After a moment, I stepped in after him. I wasn’t 100 percent convinced about the whole sister thing, but now that there was a competing theory over who she could be, well, I was willing to be a little more reasonable.
Mostly because it wasn’t until that moment right there that I realized just how much I wanted this woman to be his sister.
I didn’t want Callum to be cheating on me.
I wanted him to love me, even if that was scary as shit.
I stood awkwardly in the foyer for a long moment, not really sure what to do with myself.
Callum looked back over at me and smiled. He gestured toward the couch in the living room. “Have a seat. I’ll get the pictures.”
Pictures?
I went into the living room—the couch was a velvety red-wine color while the drapes were a soft color caught somewhere between midnight blue and purple—and sat in the middle of the couch. Callum had disappeared around the corner to fetch whatever pictures he wanted me to see, and I found myself on edge as I waited.
What if Callum’s proof wasn’t convincing? What if this was all just a bullshit lie? Part of his act?
I hoped it wasn’t, but I had my reservations.
Callum returned after a few minutes with a photo album. “I want you to know, these are bad.”
He set the album on his lap and opened it up, revealing pictures of himself as a child—with a young girl a little younger than him at his side. He pointed at her. “This is Amelia.”
He flipped to several more pages, each one filled with pictures of family events, him standing with that little girl. But it wasn’t until the one of him in high school showed up that I was convinced.
“Jesus, is that Liz?”
“Elizabeth? Yeah, she’s my stepsister.”
My eyes widened into saucers. What were the odds that I met his stepsister in college? Apparently, pretty good, because that sure as hell was her, standing next to Callum and… Amelia. His sister. The stepsister that Liz always bitched about.
“Unbelievable,” I murmured.
He shrugged. “My parents had a nasty divorce when I was younger. Dad was a good man, more or less, but his weakness was women. In general. He couldn’t leave it at just one woman, so he always ended up fucking around. Mom was obviously upset when she found out.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
He waved off my apology. “They split, dad remarried Patricia Laney, Elizabeth’s mother. It was kind of a joke, and it definitely didn’t last, but it was enough to make us legally family.”
It was hard to believe that the world was that small, but the evidence of it was staring me right in the face. “I can’t believe it.”
He nodded. “I made a promise to my father to take care of Amelia. So here she is. Once again in need of care.”
Callum took the album from my hands and set it beside him on the cushion. Then he turned to face me. “Don’t ever think I’m not faithful. My dad was an asshole. I’m not. If I don’t want to be with you, you’ll fucking know. No games, no other women.”
I bit my lip, feeling oddly vulnerable after the whole thing. “Promise?”
He nodded, eyes burning. He cupped my cheeks and pulled me to him, his mouth crashing against mine in a demanding kiss that was as much a promise as his words.
It was probably only supposed to be reassuring, but he couldn’t seem to leave it at that. His tongue slipped across the seam of my lips until they parted. He explored my mouth with his tongue while his hands moved from my face down to my shoulders. They continued lower until they found my hips, gripping them and jerking my body toward his.
My breasts crashed against his hard chest, and I moaned. I wrapped my arms around his neck as my leg lifted to settle in his lap.
His hands were tugging at my shirt, pulling it free from the skirt I was wearing. My hands were busy, too. I was dragging one down the front of his chest, letting my fingers trail over those hard abs, until I found the waistband of his sweats. He broke our kiss to suck in a harsh breath when my hand dipped beneath the fabric of his pants to brush against his member.
He was already hard.
“Fuck, Marnie,” he ground out.
I grinned, then started placing kisses along his neck and shoulders as I wrapped my hand around the length of him.
I gave him a good, long stroke, his hips trying to jerk into my hand as a result. He was cursing up a storm as his hands got my blouse free of my skirt. But that wasn’t enough. His hands went to the front of my shirt to start unbuttoning it.
“Damnit, Marnie, I’m getting you a Velcro shirt,” he managed to get out as his fingers fumbled with my buttons.
I giggled but silently agreed with him. Velcro was an excellent idea. I crawled on top of Callum’s lap, causing my skirt to ruck up to my hips. I continued to stroke him, and he groaned in pleasure.
Finally, he managed to get my blouse open, then cursed again. “Velcro and no bras. It’s the newest thing.”
I laughed at him, then gasped as his hands dipped beneath my bra to cup my breasts. A moan escaped my lips when his fingers found my nipples and began to roll them, making them hard.
“I need inside you, Marnie,” he told me bluntly. “Now.”
I nodded in agreement. I released his cock out of necessity only. Standing, I pushed down my skirt, then kicked off my panties. My blouse went next, followed by my bra.
Callum was quicker. All he had to do was shuck off his sweats and jerk his tank up over his head. And just like that he was naked, his full glory there in front of my eyes.
We didn’t spend long staring and admiring each other. We were too worked up, too eager. I laid back on the floor, thankful for the thick, soft throw rug beneath me. Callum followed quickly, his hands caressing my bare body. He let his palm slide up from my thighs, along my waist and ribs, to reach my breast. He fondled me, squeezing the supple flesh there until I was arching up into his palm.
His mouth was equally eager. He kissed my stomach, my ribs, finally my breasts. He popped a single nipple into his mouth, then rolled his tongue over it. Then he caught it between his teeth and worried at it.
I gasped. “Oh, please. More.”
He suckled my breast a moment longer, then returned the favor to the other. Finally, when he was satisfied that he’d played with me enough—for now—he sat up on his haunches so that he could position himself better between my legs.
My body hummed with anticipation, waiting, wanting. When I felt him position his cock at my entrance, I almost sighed with relief. He pressed the head between my lips, and the next movement was a thrust that made him bottom out within me.
I cried out in pleasure, arching my back, and he grunted in agreement.
He didn’t give me a moment to adjust. Instead, he started thrusting immediately, hard, fast and needy. I loved it. My hips rose to meet his, determined to keep up. I clutched at his sweaty body, holding him close to me, riding out our lovemaking.
I felt him shake and tremble, his thrusts becoming erratic. I knew he was close, and I wanted him to topple over the edge.
“Please, Callum, come,” I told him, and he did.
He lost himself inside me, then collapsed on top of me. He rolled over quickly so as not to crush me, but then pulled me to him. He wasn’t ready to let me go yet.
It made me feel better than anything else. Better than the sex, than the promise. Everything. Because he wanted me to be close to him.
We relaxed like that for a long while, before his phone went off.
He groaned when he looked at the screen. “It’s Amelia.”
I was thankful that whole thing was cleared up, otherwise I would have thrown a fit about that statement. “So? Ignore her.”
“It’s not so simple. She’s… it’s complicated. She’s kind of a pain in the ass, and honestly, she’s ruined more than a few things for me in the past.”
“Jesus. Then why the hell are you helping her?”
“I told you. I promised my father.” He shrugged, causing my head to move with his shoulder. “Besides, she swears she’s trying to get her act together. Everyone deserves another chance, right?”
Well, I wasn’t sure about everyone, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I nodded. “Yeah, I guess they do.” I paused, then looked up at him. “You’re sweet, if maybe a little stupid sometimes.”
He laughed. “Yeah, you might be right. But she’s only staying a couple of months. Just until she gets back on her feet.”
I nodded again. “Shit. I should text Courtney.” I needed to let her know that we got our wires crossed and that the whole thing was just a misunderstanding. But before I got to my phone, he was already pulling me back to him.
“Text her later. We’ve got more pressing matters.”
I rolled on top of him this time, ready and eager for round two.
Chapter Eighteen
Marnie
One month later.
Finally.
Fucking finally.
The manuscript was dropped off at my desk first thing in the morning, bright and early. I’d been waiting on this damn book for several months—and at least a month longer than originally planned—and all I could think was thank God.
I was seriously starting to think Harvey wasn’t going to give me anything, but here it was.
There were a stack of papers sitting on my desk several inches thick. I was excited to get started, and not just because I’d been impatiently waiting for it. Harvey also happened to be an awesome writer, whether I wanted to admit it or not, and getting my hands on the unedited copy first was something of a treat for me.
I was practically salivating over the manuscript, but before getting started, I poked my head out of my office.
“Courtney?”
“Yeah, boss?”
She’d been back for the last three weeks, and she was acting as impervious as ever. Nothing could touch that woman. At least, that was what she was trying to convince everyone of. I was grateful, mostly, to have her back to normal, though I felt badly that she hadn’t gotten her romantic happy ending like I had.
But at least we had worked things out. The mess with Amelia and all the confusion that came with it helped solve some of our personal problems. We got on the same page and resolved our fight. It felt good to know she was back in my life like she was always meant to be.
“Hello? Earth to Marnie?”
I shook myself out of my thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. Um… I got the manuscript today, so make sure I’m not interrupted.” Courtney barely paused at the mention of the manuscript, though she almost certainly knew who had delivered it. She was working hard to be unaffected. “You doing okay?”
She glanced over at me finally and offered a small smile. “Of course. I’m totally fine. And more importantly, I’m completely over Harvey. In fact, it’s a good thing that we broke it off before anything really started.”
She turned back to her desk like that was that.
I frowned. I knew that she was probably still a little sore over the whole thing. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Courtney had really connected to Trent—she just hadn’t realized it was him at the time.
I felt bad for my friend, but there was nothing for it. I left the wound alone in the hopes that it would heal properly.
“Yeah, okay. Well, I’ll be working on the manuscript.”
She nodded. “I’ll make sure your schedule’s cleared.”
I disappeared back into my office, then settled behind my desk for the best damn book I’d read in a while. I hoped so anyway.
I pulled the papers to me, getting comfortable in my chair, ready and willing to be amazed even as I uncapped my favorite red pen. For the next three hours, I was wrapped up in Harvey’s work. The twists, the turns. He had a few grammatical things that I would have a proofreader fix later on, and I picked up on a couple of plot contradictions, but for the most part, the story flowed like a river. Smooth on the surface, but speeding along beneath.
But as I read, I couldn’t help but notice something. A very specific character. One that almost seemed like maybe she’d been added on about halfway in…
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
I stopped reading immediately and burst out of my office. A second later I was standing in front of Courtney’s desk, slapping the manuscript down in front of her.
She jumped a little, startled. “Whoa, Marnie! What’s going on?”
“You need to read this.”
Her eyebrows rose in question. “What?”
“This. You need to read it. Just trust me.”
She was clearly confused, but the best way to explain it—and to convince her of the truth—was to have her read it for herself. It was the only way she was going to believe it.
“O-kay,” she answered, carefully pulling the manuscript toward her.
For the next few hours, I waited. Waited for her to read what I had. About the queen. The queen of all good women, the changer and stealer of hearts, and the only thing in the world who could reform a man who had lost his way. It was beautiful, poetic, and highly personal. Because it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the main character was Harvey himself.
I’ve only seen a fleeting glimpse of her glory, her wonder, but I will never go a night without seeing her in my dreams. I have been blessed with that much at least. My only regret in life is that I wasn’t able to hold on to that beauty, that magic in real life.
It wasn’t the book I’d been expecting. It was hugely different from his other books. But it was beautiful and poetic, and most importantly, it had been written for Courtney. That much I was sure of.
I knew when Courtney was finished, because there were tears in her eyes. She was working hard to hold them back, but she couldn’t. She set the manuscript down, and I took it gently off her desk.
“You should go. Make it an early day,” I told her softly.
“But…”
I shook my head. “Go. You need to talk to him.”
She didn’t say anything else. She just grabbed her things and headed to the elevator. It wasn’t until the doors were closing on her that she called out a thank-you.
I smiled and hoped that she figured out what kind of happy ending she wanted and whether she could have it with Trent.
Chapter Nineteen
Courtney
My heart was pounding as I got out of my car. I’d left it parked along the side of the road, not caring about tickets or whose spot I might have filched. I didn’t care. I only had one thing on my mind: Trent Harvey.
I hurried up the sidewalk to his house and pounded on the door. I was so worked up, so excited and nervous and everything else, that my hands were shaking. But I was grateful to be here. All I wanted now was a chance.
It took a moment before the door opened, but when it did, I didn’t waste a beat. “Did you really mean what you wrote?” I blurted ineloquently, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a hurried rush. I wanted the answers now. I needed to know what he was really feeling before I could admit what I was feeling.
For a moment, he was silent. He stared at me as though he were drinking me in, a man who hadn’t seen beauty in years and was suddenly taken to the streets of Paris. I didn’t know that I deserved that kind of reverence, but I loved it just the same.
“Every word of it,” he told me fiercely.
I felt tears prick at my eyes again. I hadn’t been willing to admit how much I really wanted him to say that until he was standing right here in front of me saying it. “Why?”
His full lips pulled up into a small smile. “Because it was what I felt, what I do feel.” He stepped closer to me, actually coming outside so that we were both standing on his stoop. His large hands went to my arms, gripping them gently. “You’re my muse, Courtney. The inspiration I needed to finish the manuscript. I was starved for it, but there you were all along. I just had to find you.”
I felt my mouth begin to pull up into a smile. “Really?”
He nodded, his eyes searching mine. “And I wish… fuck, I wish I hadn’t messed this all up from day one, but I can’t change that. All I can do is spend the rest of my life trying to fix it. If you’ll let me.”
I felt a laugh bubble up in my throat, my mouth splitting into a grin that had to take up my entire face. Before he could be hurt by my laughter, however, I reached for his face, cupping his cheeks between my hands. “Don’t be so dramatic,” I told him. And then I kissed him.
I kissed him like I meant it, like I needed it. Because it really felt like I did.
His lips were full and hot against mine. When our lips parted, he tasted a little like vanilla, just like our first kiss. His hands found their way to my waist, tentative, as though afraid I might change my mind at any moment.
But I wasn’t going to change my mind. This was what I wanted.
I broke the kiss only so I could look up at him and ask, “Wanna go inside?”
He grinned at me, then nodded. I expected to follow him in, but instead I was surprised when he scooped me up into his arms and carried me off.
I squealed and laughed at him as he carried me into the house, kicking the door closed behind him. He carried me up the stairs to the room I had to presume was his. He threw me down on the bed, grinning as he crawled over the bed on top of me. He propped himself up on his elbows, his legs tangled up in mine, and just looked at me.
“You are all I want. I love you, Courtney Hughes. You are the only one for me.”
I grinned cheekily at him even as I blushed profusely. I leaned up and placed my lips against his again, this time in a soft, sweet kiss. Lying back, I said, “I don’t know about all this muse and eternal love stuff, but… but I feel something for you. Something real.”
His smile was blinding. “Does that mean you’ll be sticking around?”
I nodded. “Yeah, for now. Just don’t fuck it up, okay?” I warned him, poking at his chest, which was hard beneath my finger.
He laughed. “Or what?” he challenged, his voice dropping.
“Or there’ll be hell to pay. I am not to be fucked with.”
“Noted. And still definitely worth the risk.”
He kissed me again. And again. And again.
With each kiss I reminded myself to be brave. To give him a chance. He was a good man who had done stupid things in the past. That was everyone in the entire universe.
I was convinced that he meant what he wrote and what he’d said to me. The rest we’d have to work out as we went.