Black Swan Affair (23 page)

“
H
ey
, Swan.”

“Hi,” she replies a little out of breath.

I pull myself onto a barstool and signal Candi for my usual. “You on your way?”

It’s Thursday night. Our traditional night out for drinks and darts. One we’d started in summers past when we were both home from college.

And in the last few weeks, we’ve picked that tradition up again, because Maverick has moved back home. She graduated with honors from Iowa University four weeks ago. Started working for her father in a rather entry-level position, even when she told me she wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted to do.

I’m not sure I want her working for her father, either. Hell, I’ve been trying to find a way out of DSC myself, but I stayed. If there was a chance in hell Maverick was moving back to Dusty Falls after graduation, I was going to be here because this is our time. After all these years of waiting and pining away for her, it’s
our
time.

Her education is behind her, her future bright and limitless. She’s back within arm’s reach. I can woo her, love her openly, date her,
marry
her. I intend to make her see that everything she needs has always been waiting patiently for her. Everything I’ve ever longed for is finally within my grasp.

But I know I need to slow my pace with her. It’s been gut-wrenching to do, but it’s my only option. Slow and steady gets the girl and that’s what I aim to do. I want her to see that she can’t live without me any more than I can without her. She loves me, yes, but she’s not
in
love with me just yet, and I know it’s because she hasn’t given that side of us a chance.

So this summer is all about changing perspective and perception. I’m going to do my level best to alter how she sees me. How she sees
us
. Open her eyes so she understands we can be best friends
and
lovers
and
lifelong mates. I plan to not only get her but keep her and make her the happiest, most loved woman alive.

Just like every other summer, we’ve picked up right where we left off. I spend as much time with her as she’ll allow, only now I’ve started dropping subtle hints. About us. About the future. About
more
. With the coy looks and fluttery eyes she’s given me, I thought I’d actually been making progress, but then my gut started to burn.

I’m not the only one who thinks “it’s time.”

“Oh shoot. I’m sorry. I, ah…I can’t tonight, Kael.”

I clamp my teeth together. That burn starts to flame, fueled by the hot coals of suspicion stirring inside me.

Keeping my voice steady, I ask, “You mean you’re already breaking with Thursday-night tradition? I was looking forward to an ass whooping.” Actually I was just looking forward to spending time with her. I don’t particularly like to lose but if it means I have Mavs by my side for a few hours, I’ll gladly suffer defeat.

Her laugh feels forced. “I’m sorry. I just…something else came up. But next Thursday, I’ll be there and it will be my pleasure to whoop your ass until you can’t sit.” She adds the last part quickly, trying to soothe me. It doesn’t work. Normally I would laugh and tease her back, but instead, I want to press her. Ask her twenty questions until she spills what suddenly has her so busy. I’m afraid I already know the answer to all twenty of them. I settle for, “It’s a date.”

“I’m sorry, Kael.” Now she sounds genuinely contrite.

“Hey, no big deal. I’ll just call Killian. See if he wants to join me.”

Oh yeah, I threw it. Laid the bait. I hope to fuck it rots right there on the ground.

“Oh, ah…” she sputters. “I’m sure he’d love that.”

I smell the spoil already. I hate that I know Maverick so well. I know every inflection, every telltale tick, what each hitch of her breath means, except the one I want to know most intimately. I fear I may never learn that part of her just like I fear Killian will.

I’m utterly sick.

“Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Love you. Sorry again.”

“Love you, too, Mavs.” So fucking much.
How can you not see that?

I stare at the phone in my hands, the screen now black. I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t stop. I curse myself the entire time my fingers fly through my contacts. I hate myself when I tap his name.

He answers on the fourth ring. “If this is business, I’m afraid it will have to wait.”

A corner of my mouth ticks up. It probably looks like a sneer. Fuck….it
is
one. “It’s not business. I wanted to see if you’re free for a drink.”

“A drink?” He sounds surprised.

“Yeah, a drink. Complete with alcohol and everything. My treat.”

“Tonight?”

It’s true. Killian and I were once inseparable, but our relationship is strained from both ends. It’s hard to hang on every word of the brother who also wants the same thing you do. The same woman, the same life, the same everything. He probably feels the same.

I bark a laugh that borders on sardonic. “Yeah, tonight. Why? Got plans? A hot date maybe?”

Bait laid once more. Only I know Killian. He won’t pick it up. He’s not that outwardly transparent. But I know my brother just as well as Mavs. Killian hasn’t dated anyone in months. Except Maverick. I know this, not because of her, but because he tipped his own hand. The stick in his ass magically fell out and I
knew
…I knew it was because of Mavs. Because she has that effect on people. She’s a flickering candle in their dark world. A living, breathing fantasy come to life.

“I can’t tonight.” Short. To the point. No elaboration. Very Killian-like.

“Maybe after you get done with whatever it is that has you tied up? I can wait.” Killian has been the one pushing to get together more lately, so the fact he’s turning me down is telling.

I swear I hear crickets chirping through the silence on the other end. Finally, “I’d love to, Kael, but tonight just doesn’t work.”

It’s confirmed then. My worst nightmare has come to life. My gut is now engulfed in a wild inferno of jealousy. Images of them together tonight flip through my brain in agonizing slow motion.

“Some other time?”

“Yeah, sure,” I manage to spit out. I stick my hand in my pocket, fingering my keys, and fight the urge to drive to her house, following them like some fucking lovestruck stalker. Even I can’t stoop that low. Seeing them together that way would completely break me.

“I’ll see you first thing in the morning to review the DeVries contract.”

“Yep.” I throw the phone on the bar top without a good-bye, disgusted with the way I’m feeling. Just as it stops bouncing, it rings again and for a brief moment, I hope it’s Maverick saying she’s changed her mind. I snag it, taking in the name on my screen.
Vanessa
. I punch ignore and throw it back down, harder this time, uncaring if it breaks.

Jesus fucking Christ, this is gutting me. I’m a twenty-five, almost twenty-six-year-old man. I’m certainly not pure, but I’ve limited the women in my life because of Mavs. Because all I can see in them is her.

There was a period of time when I kind of gave up on the notion of us, not believing it would ever come true. A quarter of a century is a long time to wait for anyone, so I started seeing Vanessa. I’m a man. I may be in love with a woman I can’t have right now, but I’m not a fucking saint. Yet every time I was inside of Vanessa it became harder and harder until it almost became unbearable. Even though it was stupid, I felt as if I was betraying Maverick so I broke it off a few months ago.

Vanessa’s been calling me ever since. She’s relentless. Like a bloodthirsty piranha.

“You look like someone ran over your cat,” Candi twangs as she sets a draw in front of me. I palm the cold mug and take a long drink, hoping it will cool the fire in my belly. Knowing it won’t.

“The only good cat’s a dead cat,” I say as I slam the glass against the wood. Her horrified look shames me. I forgot Candi volunteers at the Humane Society and is part of a team that rescues abused animals. “Uh…I didn’t mean that.”

Her already thin lips press together. The line it makes reminds me of an Etch A Sketch.

“Sorry. Been a shit day. I love cats.” I’m allergic, so I don’t particularly care for cats, but I’m not heartless. Don’t wish them dead either. “Better bring me another one of these. I’m gonna need it.”

Nodding in understanding, she leaves me alone to wallow.

That incessant ring comes back. I just ignore it. It stops but starts back up immediately. In frustration, I power down my phone and finish my beer. I breathe deeply. Try to hold my sanity together, but that fucker is fraying big time.

My imagination starts running wild and rampant at what they’ll do tonight.

Mavs will laugh that laugh she does that draws you in and keeps you spellbound. She’ll throw her head back and expose that sleek neck that begs for your lips. Killian won’t be able to resist. He’s only a mere mortal, after all. A man that’s driven by a base need to claim the woman he thinks belongs to him.

Fucking hell, I can’t breathe.

I imagine him kissing her, stripping her blouse first, then her bra. I see the ripe nipple he takes in his mouth, moaning around it when her flavor bursts on his tongue. I imagine his fingers moving inside of her before he sheds the rest of her clothes until she’s naked and trembling, begging him to ease that ache between her legs with his cock.

I imagine him doing everything I want to do.

The fog of denial starts to roll in. My gaze falls despondently to the tacky wood beneath my fingers, unable to physically stand anymore. Hope is stripped from my spirit, ribbon by bloody motherfucking ribbon. A hundred thousand bees buzz around in my head and when it stops, desolation takes up residence inside me.

My brother knows how I feel about Maverick. How much I love her. But he loves her, too, doesn’t he? That’s what this is all about. He’s as in love with her as I am, and he’s as stubborn as I am when he goes after something he wants. She’s not worth giving up. I know this. So does he.

And he’s won.

This is the time I have to ask myself the hard questions. Can I stay here if they end up together? Do I get on my knees, flay myself, and beg her to choose me instead? Should I have pushed harder, faster, not waited so fucking long because I was afraid our friendship would turn awkward and I’d lose her for good? Can I live my life
with
Maverick DeSoto knowing we’ll always be friends and nothing more? Can I live my life
without
her, feeling as if I’ve had a lung removed and will never breathe fully again? Hell, can I live without her,
period
?

I wish I had the answers. I simply don’t.

Honestly, I don’t know how long I sit there, my imaginary vision of them getting more realistic by the second. At some point, I feel wetness on my legs and realize it’s me. I’m crying. Like a goddamned baby.

The glint of my phone in the low light snags my attention. Before I know what I’m doing I reach for it. It’s turned on. My fingers are dialing and she answers on the first ring. I’m numb while we make plans to meet. I’m numb when I start the car and slowly back out of the gravel driveway behind the bar I’m parked in. I’m numb as I drive down the streets of Dusty Falls. I’m even numb as I drive into Vanessa later.

In fact, I remain numb for a good long time to come.

I
’m
in the kitchen checking on supper, humming along with Fifth Harmony’s latest catchy tune. It was a busy day at the bakery and I’m glad I put supper in the slow cooker, otherwise it would have been a big ol’ bowl of Cap’n Crunch’s Oops! All Berries for each of us. Best. Invention. Ever, by the way. All berries? Brilliant.

I’m in an unusually up mood today. It’s a good feeling after spending so much time being blue. It’s been nearly two months since my father’s death. We’re all finding our new normal with a key piece of our lives now missing. It’s hard, but we’re marching on because what other choice do we have?

By unanimous vote, Killian took over running DSC. He tried telling me that spot was mine. It was what my father always wanted, but I don’t belong there anymore. I love my bakery, my freedom, my new life. Besides, it’s not in my blood like it is his or my father’s. Regardless of what he said way back when he left to move to Florida, he’s always wanted to make a name for himself at DSC. I think he secretly wanted to show my father he was worthy of his daughter. Of
me
. I always knew he was. I hope he feels that way now, even if it is too late.

My mother seems to improve daily. She’s resumed a few of her club activities. She told me a couple of weeks ago she’s now coleading the widow’s support group at church. That seems to have given her purpose and a reason to get out of bed in the morning, so whatever works. I’ve spent more time with her over the past two months than I have in the last two years combined. She’s softened and in her own way apologized for not being the best mother she could be. Promised to do better.

And Jillian? She’s still distant and withdrawn. Her snark is all but gone. She’s turned into a waif, just a shell of herself. I think she and Killian spend more time apart now than together. I’ve spent my entire life wishing Jillian were someone else and now that she is, I’m not sure I like it. I keep waiting for the sister I’ve loathed all this time to return with a vengeance and she just…doesn’t. Surprisingly, I’m really starting to worry about her.

It’s also been close to three months since Kael’s and my conversation about having a baby. The joy of starting new life fell to the wayside at the reality of one lost. Kael and I haven’t talked about it since. I went off the pill, though, and we haven’t been using protection.

I have to admit I was torn when my monthly visitor showed up just a few days ago. I want this next step with Kael, I’m just not sure I’m ready for the joy of parenthood when I’m still mourning the loss of my own parent. I’ve decided if it happens, it happens. I’m not gonna stress.

As far as Kael and I, I’m not sure things could be better between us. He doesn’t work as many hours. He’s home for dinner by six or six thirty most nights. He’s loving and attentive as always. But he also seems more focused on something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, though. He’s always been protective of me and the issues with my parents—issues that he took on as his—but I wonder if the death of my father has hit him harder than he’ll admit.

Pushing sad thoughts away, I turn up the radio as loud as it will go, letting the beat of the music take me over. I find myself wiggling my ass and singing at the top of my lungs about being worth it.

My cell lights up, vibrating noisily against the granite. I spare it a glance, frowning at the name on the caller ID. I stop moving, panting slightly, and debate whether to answer it. I argue with myself as the vibration continues. I’m just reaching for it when Kael’s voice brightly calls, “Hi,” as he walks through the garage door. I abandon the call, letting it roll to voice mail and quickly reach over to turn down the radio’s volume.

My
hi
comes out as a squeak when his arms coil around my waist. Warm lips skate along my throat and I’m reminded of the day he did that so long ago shortly after we were first married. I kinda wish I was making crème pâtissière instead of fishing out a pot roast from the roaster so he could smear the custard all over me again. Only this time, I’d think of no one but him as he ravenously licked it off. I’d feel only
his
fingers as they twisted my nipples and pumped inside me. Hear only
his
voice in my ear as he commanded me to come. Know only Kael as he brought me to the brink of orgasm and over it so hard I shook in the strength of his hold.

I take the lid off the cooker and breathe deeply, the scent of slow-roasted meat and veggies filling my senses. “You seem to be in a good mood,” I say breathlessly as my lobe is captured between his teeth.

“I am,” he whispers with it still in his grasp. His teeth lift, but his lips wrap around the flesh instead. Then his breath trickles over the coolness left behind, making me shiver. “Pot roast?”

His hold loosens enough so I can turn in his arms. I set down the slotted spoon and spin, twining my limbs around his neck. “You sound disappointed.”

“Not at all. I love pot roast.”

I cock my head, studying him. “But?”

His brows go up. “How do you know there’s a but?”

“Because I’ve known you for twenty-six years, counselor. I know a stiff…solid”—I trail one hand down his back and grip his taut ass—“butt when I see one.” We break out in laughter before he slants a scorching kiss on my lips.

“So, you’re home early,” I say, now a lot breathless and ready for dinner of a totally different sort.

But his eyes. They stop me short of sliding my hand around the front of his hip. Now that I’m looking straight into them, I see a little wariness.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s
wrong
, Swan.”

“Then what’s up? You have that wary, guarded look in your eyes like when you had to tell me they were canceling
Teen Angel
. What is it?”

A self-deprecating smile pops out. His elbows squeeze into my waist and I feel the lace of his fingers at my back. He’s caging me in so I can’t escape. “Sometimes I hate that you know me so well.”

Red alert. My pulse skitters. There’s definitely something going on. “No, you don’t. You love it. Now spill. Is it something to do with DSC?”

“No, Maverick,” he answers fast. Too fast. After a quick glance out the window, he draws in a deep breath and announces, “But there is something I wanted to tell you about, actually.”

Under normal circumstances, I would bust out a smug grin and tease him but my senses are tingling like lit sparklers. The moment feels heavy, electric. He’s nervous.

I keep my voice steady when I prod, “What is it?”

He holds my eyes. Holds them so tight it’s as if we’re magnets. Powerful and unbreakable. In literally one second, I’ll wonder if we are.

“I got a job offer.”

I just stare. Blink and stare and blink some more.
Job offer?
But he already has a job. “What do you mean, you got a job offer? You have a job, Kael. Here, in Dusty Falls. Working for my
father’s
company.” I gasp, a sudden thought hitting me. “Did Killian fire you?” Would he do that? Would he abuse his power that way?

Kael’s nostrils flare out and a corner of his mouth tugs up, but it’s nowhere in the same vicinity as a smile.

“Because if he did, I’ll—”

“No, Swan. He did
not
fire me. And I don’t need you to fight my battles,” he tacks on rather bitterly.

I stiffen a little, trying not to let that needle me. “Well, then what happened? Why did you get a job offer? I don’t understand.”

And where? It’s not as though there are a lot of places for an attorney to work in Dusty Falls.

He never looks away as he says evenly, “I accepted.”

It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up to what he just said. I thought I heard him say
I accepted
. And when I realize he did, in fact, say those two words, the wind feels knocked straight from my lungs.

“You did
what
?” I force that question out on the last rasp of air I have left because I feel like I can’t breathe right. I push him away with all the strength in me. He lets me, staggering back, undaunted. “How could you do that without consulting me first? DSC needs you, Kael.
Now
more than ever.”

His jaw is set tight. His stare firm, digging into me with unchecked resolve. “They don’t. Everyone is replaceable, including me.”

Seconds ago, I was thinking Killian fired him. Now, my thoughts have swerved 180 degrees. “Killian will never accept your resignation.”

His demeanor doesn’t change a bit. “He already did.”

This is why he was calling only moments ago. It has to be.

“How could you do this?” I breathe hotly.

Determination schools his features tight. He nods slightly when he tells me, “This is what’s best for us, Swan.”

“Best for
us
?” I parrot in utter disbelief and shock. Yes, shock. That must be what’s making my limbs numb and my mind shut down. No. It’s whirling. Whirling and spinning and reeling so fast my stomach revolts. I don’t know how long we silently argue before I find my spine again. Then I straighten my back. Square my shoulders. Pick up my scattered thoughts from the floor, piecing them together in the only pattern that makes sense. “Best for us or best for
you
?”

Caramel eyes harden right before me. “
Us
. We need to get the fuck out of this town, Maverick, before it sucks us under and ruins us. Before it breaks us and everything we’re trying to build together.”

“Ruins us? What in the hell are you talking about, Kael?” My voice shrills more and more with each word I’m flinging. “Our lives are here. Our
livelihoods
are here. Our memories. Our histories. Our loyalties. Our families!”

He just stands still, stony and steadfast. “Exactly.” As if that one word explains it all. And I suppose it does. One word sums up the reason he wants to abandon everything we’ve known, leaving our entire lives behind. One word that can be found hidden within each of the reasons I just gave.

Killian.

My blood boils hot. Hot and sweltering. Blisters are forming inside. Sweat dots my brow. “I can’t believe you did this without consulting me.”

His gaze slides over my rigid form. It lands on my curled hands, then my fixed jaw. “Because I knew you’d react like this.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to react when you tell me you’ve been off making plans for our lives without me!” Then it hits me with the force of the sun at high noon on the equator. Why didn’t I put two and two together sooner? Why didn’t I push this when I had doubts about what he was doing? Doubts Killian planted. “Is this why you’ve been going to Minneapolis?”

Please say no. Please say no. Please don’t say yes…

He doesn’t even bother looking ashamed when he answers. “Yes.”

My knees feel weak. They crumple a little but I catch myself with a hand on the counter. The other is pushing into Kael’s chest as he tries to get to me. “Don’t touch me,” I mumble. He takes two steps away.

I feel utterly sick. He’s kept this from me for months. We stare at each other, the air thickening with anger and hurt.

“Who is the job with?” I force the question through a tight throat. My flags are all flying high and blood red. I know who else is up in Minneapolis and I’m hoping beyond all hope he’s not going to say what I think he is.

His hard swallow makes my skin prick. “Braham Construction.”

“Oh my God. But that’s…” Oh God, I can’t…air…I’m gasping for it. “That’s…
Kael
.” That’s DSC’s biggest competitor in the Midwest.

I turn my back to him and drop my head, gripping that granite top so hard my fingers scream as loud as my mind. I close my eyes and strain to drag in long, slow lungfuls of patience and forgiveness. It’s not fucking working. I feel unimaginably betrayed right now. Confused and so, so betrayed.

“How long have you been working on this?” I muster.

“A while.”

A while
—air quotes. It’s been months. That’s why he took me to Saint Paul. That’s why he wanted to show me around. That’s why he wanted me to love it.
Jesus Christ
. Yeah. I fucking said it. And it tastes as sour as vinegar in my mind as the ash of duplicity tastes in my mouth.

I whirl back around, my hair flopping wildly. I don’t want to look at him right now but I have to see his face when I ask, “Were there ever any meetings with the National Guard?”

He looks a little hurt. I don’t feel bad in the slightest. “Yes.”

“How many?”

He hesitates only momentarily, eyes darting to the floor before coming back to mine. His sigh alone answers the question. “Just the one. It stalled just like I told you.”

“Then why didn’t Killian know?” I press.

His lips purse into a thin, angry line.
He’s
angry? Well, fuck that. Again, not feeling bad.

“It was a favor for your father. They contacted him directly. They were interested in DSC, but your father didn’t want to send Killian because he didn’t want to taint the procurement process.” When I remain silent he adds, “It was a back-of-the-napkin meeting, Mavs. I never mentioned it to Killian and I don’t know if your father did. I didn’t ask.”

I absorb his explanation. When Kael lies, he always ends up wetting his lips. I’m not sure he’s even aware of it, but his lips are as dry as a bone right now. I want to ask him why he didn’t just tell me that from the beginning, only I already know.