The couple of days he needed were more than likely to cover his ass, in case the asshole Deacon had assaulted spilled his guts and all the nice people he’d introduced her to as his date thought they’d been breaking bread with Deacon’s whore.
The expression on his face when he’d let her walk out of his apartment was stuck in her head.
She’d given him a chance, an opening to admit he cared, and he hadn’t taken it. Because he didn’t feel that way about her. All he felt for her was lust. She was good enough to fuck, but only when it didn’t get in the way of business.
And she’d stupidly gone to him that morning, ready to spill her guts, to yak up all the feelings she’d kept locked in her heart for so long. She’d trusted him. Something she didn’t do lightly.
“Let me go.” He didn’t, he held on tighter.
“Talk to me.”
She shoved at his shoulders. “I said let me the fuck go.”
Every muscle in his body turned to stone beneath her hands. “Jesus. Alex…”
“We’re done.”
He flinched. “What?”
“I said we’re done. Now back the hell up.” She planted her hands on his shoulders and shoved again.
“You don’t mean that. We have a—”
“Don’t you dare say it.” She shoved again, hands shaking, stomach twisting.
He finally released her, taking a step back. And dammit, she missed him instantly. “Talk to me, Alex.”
She held his wild gaze, heart pounding. It suddenly hurt to even look at him. “If you try to force this, this messed-up arrangement, I will tell your sisters. You’ll lose them, Deacon, and you know it. As for the business, word about the place is spreading. We’ve had several big jobs come in this week alone, and we’re getting calls and doing quotes for more every day. So your excuse to sell this place, that we’re playing shop, has been shot to shit.”
“Alex,” he growled, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Would you stop for a minute and let me explain? You don’t understand—”
“Despite what you think of me, I do understand. I understand perfectly.” He tried to grab her, but she wrenched away, taking several steps back. “Don’t touch me.”
He shoved his hands in his hair. “Sweetheart, don’t do—”
“Deke!” Piper’s voice cut him off as she walked around the corner. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
Deacon’s gaze didn’t falter; those blazing green eyes remained locked on her. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she moved around him, ignoring the way he growled her name under his breath, and forced a smile.
“Well, I need to get back to work. I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Alex murmured and made her escape.
She saw him drive away a short time later.
…
The next day seemed to creep by at a snail’s pace and wasn’t made any easier by the constant barrage of calls and texts from Deacon. She’d turned her phone off in the end. No way was she ready to talk to him. She had no interest in whatever bullshit he had to say.
She was ecstatic when she could finally climb the stairs to her apartment and, after a long, hot shower, change into her pj’s and veg on the couch. I will not cry. Not over him. Not again.
Flicking through the channels, she searched for a show that didn’t have anything to do with love or sex or relationships of any kind. In the end she chose a gory horror flick. “No chance of any lovey-dovey stuff on that.”
The door to her apartment crashed open just as she was settling in. Rusty, with Piper hot on her heels, stormed in, wearing matching pissed-off expressions. They know.
Rusty rounded the couch and slammed a newspaper on the coffee table. “Have you seen this shit?”
Alex followed her friend’s finger, stabbing at a collection of pictures on the society pages. She blinked down at them, hoping she was having some screwed-up hallucination. No.
But she wasn’t and there in black and white was Deacon—and Emily. Her stomach dropped to her feet.
The first couple photos were of the two of them walking into a restaurant, his hand resting on her lower back. The next showed them climbing into a cab together, and the last was the pair of them out in front of his building. But this had been taken in the morning. Emily was wearing the same dress she’d had on in the dinner shots. Deke’s hair was wet, slicked back like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and Emily was wrapped around him, head pressed to his chest. They’d spent the night together.
I’m going to throw up.
“That’s who I heard in the background when he phoned.” She hadn’t realized she’d said it out loud until Rusty grabbed her arm.
“When? How long has that bitch had her claws back in my brother?”
Alex shook her head, still stunned by the images in front of her. “I don’t know. I just heard a female voice…I have no idea how long it’s been going on.”
“Why’d he call?” Piper asked behind her. “Did he say anything about Emily?”
She shook her head. “No. He called to see if we could fit his car in for a service.” What else could she say? “We didn’t talk about anything else.”
Rusty screwed up the paper and fired it in the trash. “If he’s going to keep shit-tastic secrets like this, then the lazy prick can service his own damn car.”
The pair talked for a while longer, but Alex barely heard a word they said.
How could she have been so blind? The scratches, the lipstick on the shirt. The female voice on the other end of the phone when he’d canceled their plans. All the signs had been there. She just hadn’t wanted to believe them.
Did he still love Emily? Had he ever stopped? And why had he asked her to give him a couple days? Kissing her like he had when he was obviously getting back with his ex-wife—did he think he could keep her his dirty little secret? Have the best of both worlds?
Anger, hot and sharp, sliced through her, helping to dull the ache in her chest.
A hand landed on her shoulder. “Alex. What’s wrong?” Piper slid down beside her, concern on her face. “Why are you crying?”
Was she?
“Ah, Christ.” Rusty slumped down, taking her other side, and looked at her sister. “You were right. They’re sleeping together.”
“What?” Alex shook her head, breaking out in a cold sweat.
“Save it, girl.” Rusty slung her arm around Alex’s shoulders. “We’ve seen his car here. You two are as subtle as a pair of humping wildebeests.” Rusty gave her an encouraging squeeze. “Start talking.”
Piper patted her hand, but her expression was pure determination. “Now.”
Chapter Nineteen
Deacon was surprised and—he’d never thought he’d say this—pleased to see Steve when he’d entered the charity gala earlier that night. The sooner he got this mess with Emily sorted out, the sooner he could tell Alex everything. Until he told her the truth, all of it, they couldn’t move forward. She loved him. He had to believe that. He just hoped she’d give him a chance to explain—that she’d believe him when he did.
He didn’t waste time and took up the vacant space beside the man in question, who was currently propping up the bar and nursing what looked like a glass of whiskey. The main part of the evening was over. Deacon had played his part, schmoozed the main players and listened to the never-ending speeches. The cause was extremely important to him, and something he intended to contribute to for the foreseeable future, but after what had happened with Alex the day before, the way she’d looked at him, like he’d cut her heart out and ground it into the asphalt, this wasn’t where he wanted to be. He was anxious to get this over with, to go to her, to finally come clean.