Sweet Recovery (Ex Ops Series Book 4) (15 page)

“Because you went from laughing to scowling in less than five seconds. If a woman didn’t cause that kind of reaction, then I don’t know what else could.”

Miffed that Chase—the ultimate bar hopping, strip club loving, one-night wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am guy—was giving me grief, I lost my temper and snapped, “What the fuck do you know about women? You’ve got a revolving door on your bedroom that sees more action than a hooker on payday.”

Taking a big swig of his beer, he shrugged. “Don’t hate me because I’m right. Or beautiful.”

I went to take a swing at his head with the flat of my hand, but he dodged the move.

“Don’t get testy, motherfucker. Just because I’ve never wanted a woman so badly I daydream about white weddings and putting a ring on her finger, it doesn’t mean I don’t have two eyes and a brain. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that broad in Miami fucked you up really good. The question is, now what are you going to do about it?”

“You think that, if I had a fuckin’ clue what to do, I’d be sitting here with your ass?”

Chase laughed in my face, and I noticed his hand motioning somebody over. “But that’s exactly where you are, dumbass. So now you need to figure out if you want to let some girl here help you forget about the chick who did this to you, or are you going to grow your balls back and go handle the one who got away?”

A gorgeous brunette with a short, angled haircut was suddenly on my lap, dressed in nothing but a bikini top and a G-string. She didn’t waste any time before straddling my waist and grinding to the music on top of me.

Her warm cinnamon-spiced breath hit my ear as she whispered, “What do you say, handsome? Want to go back to one of the private rooms and have some fun?”

Pulling back, I eyed her warily. “You mean, like a dance?”

A large coy smile spread across her face as she shook her head.

Leaning back into me so she could whisper in my ear again, she answered, “Sure, we can dance.” Then she nipped my earlobe with her sharp, little teeth. “Dance on the sheets, under the sheets …” Giving my ear a light lick now, she continued, “Then we can dance against a wall and in the shower. Hell, we can dance anywhere you want to, baby, as long as your version of dancing is you shoving that big cock into me so hard I think I’ve died and gone to heaven by the end of the night.”

Pulling back, I stared the gorgeous woman. Any man in this place would probably give their left nut and their bank accounts to do the kind of dancing she was talking about. She was built like a walking wet dream and had naughty written all over her. And maybe my dick was interested because she was rubbing up and down it like a cat in heat, but nothing else inside me was interested at all.

All because she wasn’t the woman I really wanted on my lap, just a pale imitation.

Was that how I wanted to live my life, settling for poor replicas of the woman I did want? That sounded like a shit plan and a shit life. There was only one person who could change it for me—me.

Politely putting distance between myself and the stripper, I gave it to her straight. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m taken. Thanks for the offer, though.”

She shrugged a shoulder and patted my cheek. “Come back and see me if that changes, handsome.”

As she walked away, I got an elbow to the ribcage again.

Turning to Chase, I gave him the evil eye. “What the hell was that for?”

Both of his eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You’re taken, bro?”

“I told you to stop calling me bro, and yes, I’m fuckin’ taken.”

Standing up from my seat, I was starting to walk away when my teammate’s voice shouted out behind me, “Where you goin’, Lucas?”

Not turning around, I muttered the truth. “To get my angel back.”

Chapter

11

Ginny

“I really do not want to do this today, Mother.”

Frowning, she leaned forward in her chair, as if getting closer to me might help get her point across somehow. “Don’t be ridiculous, Virginia.”

I held a hand up in the air between us. “I would rather have a root canal with no anesthesia.”

My mother huffed. “It’s certainly not that bad.”

“I’d rather swim with a bunch of great white sharks without the safety cage.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she asked, “Can you please just get dressed so we can go?”

Picking up my glass of vodka and orange juice, I took a healthy swig then said, “I would rather have my fingers cut off so I could never draw again than go to another meeting with that wedding planner!”

Her head snapped up, and she gave me the “mom” glare. The same glare that always told a kid that their parent’s patience was short and you were one word away from trouble with a capital T.

“Do not call her ‘that wedding planner.’ Her name is Katrina King or Miss King, and that’s how you will address her. I have no idea why you’re being like this, Virginia! The woman is always so nice and polite to you.” Dropping her voice to a harsh whisper, she quickly added, “Please stop being difficult, Ginny, and really
think
about this. A marriage to Sanjay is your way
out
.”

Rolling my eyes, I looked away. My mother just didn’t get it. It wasn’t the wedding planner that was the problem. It was the wedding. As in, no matter how nice or sweet Jay was to me, I still didn’t want to marry him on the principal that it was beneficial for my father. She had to know that, which meant she was being purposely obtuse about the situation.

Pointing a prim little finger at me, she snapped, “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Virginia!”

Dropping my head to the back of the chair, I stared at the ceiling and prayed. I wasn’t sure what I was praying for or to whom, but surely, someone up there had to be willing to cut me a break. Just a little one.

My mother’s soft voice called to me, “Ginny.”

I should have called her out on using my nickname like that. I hadn’t let her do it in years, but I just didn’t have it in me to fight with her about it right now. Instead, I looked over at her and pretended like I was not on the verge of tears.

“Is Jay truly that bad, sweetheart?”

I shook my head. “You just don’t understand, Momma.”

A sad look crossed her face. “Don’t I, love?”

I shrugged in defeat then dropped my head to stare at the contents of the glass still in my hand. “No, I don’t think you do. At least you love Dad. I’m going to marry a man I don’t love at all.”

“Ginny,” her trembling voice whispered again. “Ginny, please look at me.”

The tears in her voice and her pleading was too much for me. I couldn’t give her the cold shoulder when I could tell how badly I was upsetting her.

Looking back at her, I saw silent streaks of tears had already escaped down her face. She reached across the coffee table and grabbed my free hand.

“What has love gotten me, Ginny? A life I’m scared to death of? A husband I hate as much as I adore?”

I didn’t know what to say. This was the first time in years Momma had spoken any sort of unhappy words out loud about my father.

She squeezed my hand. “It’s true. For my own impossible reasons, I do love your father, but the only good thing that has come of that is you. So please think about that when you think about not marrying for love. It might be that you’re getting a better chance at life without love than the life I lead with it.”

Was it reasonable to hate your own mother for having a good point? Because, that was exactly how I felt right now. My heart wanted to scream and cry, tell her she was wrong, that no one should ever marry unless it was for love. That was the point of all those damn fairytales she used to tell me, wasn’t it?

Silent tears were running down my face now, and I didn’t have it in me to even try to stop them. Why should I? Wiping those tears away wouldn’t change my situation. They wouldn’t magically make my life any better or take away my problems. In a weird way, the feeling of the tears sliding down my face was a silent rebellion to the story of my life.

My father could control everything around me, but he couldn’t control this. Only I had the power to stop my pain or let it carry on. To let the salty drops of my repression, anger, and agony slide down my skin until they dripped off my face. Like my art, the moisture was a lament to the dreams I’d had that had died. An ode to what I had once hoped might be, but never could. Then I suddenly realized they were something else, a promise to keep the man I loved safe.

My mother cupped my face with her soft hands, wiping away my tears as she brought my face back up to look at her.

“Listen to me, baby girl. Sometimes, you have to listen to your brain to save your heart.”

My marrying Jay would save the heart that walked around outside my chest.

I had seen Lucas’s face before I had walked out of that motel room. I had seen that I had destroyed something precious with what I had done, broken something irreplaceable. The least I could do after causing that much devastation was protect him in any way possible.

Taking a deep breath, I made a decision I hoped like hell I wouldn’t regret later.

“Let me get ready so we can go see Katrina King.”

~~~

An hour and a half later, my mother and I were being escorted by a receptionist to Miss King’s office. Walking through the French doors, I found a blonde in her late forties with a pleasant smile and kind eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Wellington! I’m so glad you and your daughter could make it today.”

Mom reached out and shook her hand then sat in one of the chairs Miss King had gestured to in front of her desk.

When she held a hand out to me, I took it and felt her grasp was warm and genuine. Miss King then directed me to the other chair as she walked back around her desk to her own. Grabbing her laptop, she turned it around to face us then sat down with an excited smile.

“I think you two are really going to like what I’ve come up with. Here, let me show you.” I heard the click of buttons before a breathtaking picture appeared of a large room that looked like it had come straight out of a Victorian castle. “This is the Palace Hotel. Their banquet hall, as you can see, is spacious enough to fit a thousand people. The dark hardwood floors and the high skylight ceilings showcase the majesty of the room. With your Tyrian purple scheme, the gold gilding on the walls will contrast quite nicely. The chairs I’ve chosen also have a gilded frame and white silk, padded seats. Behind the alter, we’ll have an entire wall of white peonies, stephanotis, and roses to give the wedding a soft, elegant, and romantic feel.”

She looked up to see our reactions. I didn’t know what my mother was thinking, but I knew it was quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I didn’t think I could have even drawn the stunning scene she had designed for me.

After taking in our silence, but seeming happy with it, she clicked another button, and the screen changed.

“We can carry the Tyrian purple and gold theme into the reception hall easily by using the same sort of chairs paired with white silk table clothes around large round banquet tables that seat ten. The centerpieces will be a mixture of the same white peonies, stephanotis, and roses we used on the floral wall, but I’ll have the florist add sweet peas to bring in the purple. It gives it that Victorian flair. Throughout the room, we’ll have soft, purple lighting to enhance the crystal chandeliers while putting a softer, whiter light on the twelve-foot head table that will seat the wedding party. We can make that larger if we need to.

“All of the dining utensils will be gold plated, as well as the china. With Tyrian purple silk napkins, it’ll complete the delicate balance of the color scheme. So, what do you think, ladies? Is it everything you hoped for?”

No. It was the first word that came to mind, but thankfully, I didn’t say it aloud. This was the exact opposite of everything I had ever hoped for. Sure, it was opulent and stunning, but it wasn’t me in the slightest, which was exactly why it was perfect in every way. It should make my father and, more than likely, Jay’s parents exceedingly happy.

If I was going to marry for everything but love, then I was glad this would be the exact opposite of everything I had dreamed and hoped for. Then I wouldn’t have to walk down the aisle, surrounded by a dream come true as I headed for purgatory. I couldn’t tell Miss King or my mother any of those thoughts, though. They both had worked together to plan a wedding fit for royalty. The least I could do was give them the praise they both deserved.

Glancing over at my mother, who was watching me with cautious eyes, I gave her a smile before turning my gaze back to Katrina King.

“Miss King, it is simply the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I couldn’t be happier with your design.”

The wedding planner beamed and started rattling off details that I promptly tuned out. I knew my mother would get all of the pertinent information. I had handled just about as much I could of this today.

Although I had mentally checked out, I couldn’t seem to tear my scrutiny from the design in front of me. Probably because I realized, with my answer to Miss King, I had finally achieved what I once had never thought I would in my father’s world.

Beauty, elegance, and lies.

Lucas

My footsteps were quick and steady as I marched to my destination with determination. With every step I took to my commander’s office, my mind was focused on the mission that was forming in my head. I had a few preparations to make before I could leave, though. There was also a small favor to ask. I really hated asking for favors.

Stopping in front of a solid wooden door with one small nameplate that read “Wall” on it, I rapped my knuckles in quick succession. Jaxon’s gruff order to proceed followed almost immediately.

Opening the door, I caught the subtle shock on my commander’s face as he watched me from the seat behind his desk.

He placed his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “Young, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Walking to the front of his desk, I stood at attention so he would know this visit was in a somewhat official capacity. “Sir, I request time off for personal reasons.”