Sweet Victory: A Novella (His Wicked Games #2.5) (6 page)

BOOK: Sweet Victory: A Novella (His Wicked Games #2.5)
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For a moment, the two of them stare each other down. Calder’s never talked much about his sister, and I’ve never pressed the subject. I’m not sure what their relationship was like before their father’s death, but it certainly isn’t very good now.

Louisa breaks eye contact first. She glances back over her shoulder, outside of the apartment.

“Look,” she says, “I know that this is a little weird, but can I come in for a bit?”

Calder doesn’t even blink. “What did you do?”

“Nothing that bad.” She shrugs. “At least, nothing I think you’d actually disapprove of, given the circumstances.” She throws another glance over her shoulder. “Come on, Cal, I’ll explain everything.”

Cal?

For a moment I think he’s going to shut the door in her face, but Calder heaves a sigh and steps aside, letting his sister into our home. He shoots me an apologetic look over her curly head, but before I can return a
What the hell are you thinking?
glare, Louisa is bounding over to me.

“You must be Lily,” she says.

I take her outstretched hand, even though I’d rather shove her right back out the door. “I didn’t realize you knew about me.”

“I have my sources.” She smiles, then steps back again to inspect me from head to toe. It’s not until her eyes nearly bug out of her head that I realize I’m still wearing my very short, very
sheer
lingerie.

I quickly cross my arms across my body, but it’s too late.

“Oh God,” she says. “Did I interrupt something?” She looks back and forth between the two of us, but Calder’s no more dressed than I am. He lost his shirt somewhere during our last little activity, and his pants are zipped but not buttoned.

I’m not sure which of the three of us is the brightest shade of fuchsia. But it’s Louisa who suddenly—unapologetically—bursts into laughter.

“Geez, Cal! You should have told me,” she wheezes out. “I never… I never…” She dissolves into giggles again.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be showing up on my doorstep,” Calder says, fastening his fly. “I wasn’t aware you were even in town.”

She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “I called you half a dozen times. You never picked up. And your voice mailbox is full, by the way.”

Half a dozen
… Of all the explanations for those Unknown calls Calder’s been getting all evening, this is the last thing I expected.

Calder is rubbing his forehead. “What happened to your old number?”

“That’s a long story.”

“Everything is, isn’t it?” He yanks a hand through his hair. “Care to tell me what you’re doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Thailand right now?”

I’ve managed to edge my way over to one of the suitcases, and I quickly lean down—careful to keep my ass from hanging out, of course—and flick it open. To my dismay, it’s mostly socks and underwear, but I manage to find a tank top and some sleep shorts among the contents, and I tug them on over my current lacy number.

Meanwhile, Louisa’s gone from jovial to subdued, though there’s still a flash of rebellion in her eyes as she looks up at her older brother.

“My program in Chiang Mai got cut short. It’s… complicated.”

“Is it?” Calder’s voice is even, but I know better. “And how exactly did you end up here?”

Louisa sighs and leans back against the wall. “I wasn’t planning on just showing up like this. But I was desperate. And I may have done something a little stupid.”

“Spit it out, Louisa.”

“Nothing that bad.” She tugs at one of her curls. “I just paid our old place a little visit.”

Calder’s head jerks up. “You went out to the estate?”

My stomach clenches. Calder had to sell the Cunningham property after his father’s death, and the loss of the family’s estate hit him hard—especially after he learned that the new owner meant to turn the elaborate mansion and grounds into an attraction for the general public. I was with him the last time he set foot on the property, the night he had to come to grips with the fact that his childhood home—the symbol of the life he’d lived up until that point—would become a tourist destination.

We’ve spoken of it since, and though he seems to have accepted the estate’s fate, he doesn’t seem inclined to dwell on it. After all, he has a new home now;
we
have a new home. I find myself subconsciously reaching for him, wanting to grip his hand, but he’s too far away.

But if Louisa has any idea what emotional shit her brother’s been through over that place, she doesn’t show it.

“Have you seen what they’re doing to it?” she says. “It’s ridiculous! They tore down all these trees in front of the gate to build this gargantuan parking lot. And over where the orchards used to be? They’re putting in a golf course. A friggin’ golf course!”

“What they’ve chosen to do with the estate is no longer our concern,” Calder says. “But what does this have to do with you appearing on my doorstep?”

Louisa rubs the back of her neck. “I may have snuck in and spray-painted a few obscene words on the green.”

Okay—so for a minute I’m actually a little impressed.

“A couple of rent-a-cops caught me in the act,” Louisa continues. “I managed to outrun them, but I think they got my tags as I drove off. I thought of pulling over and spending the night at some roadside motel, but I had a feeling they might send the real police after me. They’ve got a full security team over there—they’re not going to take something like this lightly.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that
before
you broke onto the property and committed vandalism.” Calder’s tone is unforgiving.

“Come on,” Louisa says. “Admit it. You’re a little bit proud of me.”

“Actually, I’m a little bit pissed that you decided to bring this problem to my home. Should I expect a visit from the police at three in the morning?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It might be nothing. I just need a p
lace to sleep for the night. I’ll figure out the rest in the morning.”

Calder holds out his arms. “And do you see a place to sleep around here?”

He’s so angry that I can see the blood pulsing at his temple, but his voice remains as calm as the sea before a storm. However this ends, it’s not going to be pretty. I step forward and gently touch his arm. His muscles stiffen beneath my touch, then relax slightly.

“Would you like something to drink, Louisa?” I say as politely as I can.

Calder’s sister doesn’t look nearly as worked up as he does. In fact, she looks rather amused by this entire situation.

“Call me Lou,” she says cheerfully. “And I’d love a drink.”

I lead her into the kitchen, shooting Calder a look of sympathy over my shoulder as I go. Maybe when he’s had a moment to take a deep breath, he’ll figure out the best course of action from here. In the meantime, it’s going to take everything in my power to keep from strangling Louisa—Lou—myself.

Our Chinese food is still on the counter, and I offer her an egg roll as I sift through the boxes for a glass. She munches away and nods when I wave at the bottle of red wine we left unfinished.

“So,” she says, leaning toward me across the counter as if we’re old friends. “You two are living together. Must be pretty serious then, huh?”

I nod. “I guess so.”

She smiles. The left side of her mouth curls up a little more than the right—just like Calder’s. Up close, it’s remarkable how alike they are, and in spite of myself, I find my heart softening a little.

But she still showed up uninvited in the middle of my special night with Calder—upsetting him, no less—so she isn’t off the hook just yet.

Lou, however, seems oblivious to my annoyance.

“How long have you two been dating?” she asks.

I don’t really want to get into this right now. I want to get her fed and back out the door so Calder and I can get back down to our little game.

But I smile and say, “A little over six months.”

“Wow.” She seems genuinely pleased by this knowledge. “He must really like you.”

I’m not really sure how to respond to that, so I shrug and say, “I hope so.”

“If not, he’s gotten himself into quite the predicament, hasn’t he? It’s never really a good idea to move in with someone. Unless you’re married, I suppose—but even a lot of those end in divorce, don’t they? It’s a messy situation all around. Living together just makes everything that much more complicated when you break up.” She takes another bite of egg roll. “Six months isn’t a very long time, is it?”

I can only gape at her. Is she
serious
?

But Lou’s not done yet.

“Not that I know. I mean, I know my brother, but he’s never lived with a girl. Ever. And I don’t know you at all.” She cocks her head. “The main question here is whether or not you’re good enough for him.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve only got one brother. I need to look out for him.” She shoves the final bite of egg roll into her mouth. “God, this is delicious. I’d almost forgotten how amazingly awful American Chinese food is.”

She can chirp about the food all she wants, but I’m not about to let her question my relationship with Calder.

“Listen,” I say. “I know you’re his sister, but if you think you have the right to waltz in here and start making judgments about—”

The kitchen door flies open, and I clamp my lips together. But if Calder notices the mood in here, he doesn’t acknowledge it. He still looks a little tense, but he’s thrown on a shirt and seems to have calmed down significantly.

“I’ve pulled out some blankets for you,” he says to his sister. “You can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

Lou grins and leaps toward him, throwing her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d help me out.” She gives him a kiss on the cheek.

It’s the first physical contact between them since she showed up at our door—heck, probably the first physical contact they’ve had since their father’s funeral, maybe even earlier. Calder looks taken aback by his sister’s sudden display of affection; his shoulders are stiff and his back rigid. After a moment, though, his brow relaxes slightly. One of his arms moves slowly around her back, and he awkwardly returns her hug.

I suddenly feel like I’m intruding. There’s a lot the two of them need to sort out, and they need to do it without me. There’s a year or more of estrangement between them, and my presence in this little scene only complicates things.

I grab a carton of fried rice from the counter and slip past them out into the living room. The apartment suddenly feels very stuffy, so I head to the tiny balcony off of the master bedroom. There’s no furniture out here yet, but I sit on the concrete and slide my legs between the wooden slats of the rail. The breeze feels nice against my cheeks, and even right now, when it’s too dark to see any of the surrounding foliage, the air still smells sweet and green. If I close my eyes and breathe deeply, I can catch the first wisps of the bright, crisp scent of summer. It’s the scent of new things—of growth and life and joy. It’s the scent of hope.

After a moment, I open my eyes and pick at the fried rice. My belly aches with hunger after all the exercise Calder and I have had this evening, but I don’t have much of an appetite. I force myself to take a few unenthusiastic bites before setting the carton aside and throwing my head back to look up at the stars.

There’s a lot of light pollution here, but I can still make out a handful of the brighter constellations. For a moment, I think back to the night Calder and I slept on the lawn at the Cunningham estate. It was the last time either of us visited the place, the night all of Calder’s grief and anger and frustration poured out of him and he trashed the mansion he once called home. We weren’t supposed to be there—in fact, it was probably the very incident that prompted the property’s new owner to hire the same security team that caught Lou in her own act of vandalism—but I’m not about to point that out to Calder. He’s moved on from the person he was that night—though I know some of his wounds are still healing—and he’s only trying to look out for her.

But dammit if I still don’t want to punch her in the face. Just a little.

How could she suggest that we wouldn’t last? That I might not be good enough for her brother? As if
I
were the one who ran off to the other side of the world when things got tough. Instead, I was the one who stood by Calder’s side through the wild seas of his grief. I was the one who comforted him and supported him and assured him that he wasn’t alone in his anguish. Where was she?
She
, out of everyone else in the world, might have truly understood what he was going through. They could have—should have—supported each other.

I wish I’d thought to bring the bottle of wine out here. A drink would be nice right now.

The hem of my lingerie has come untucked from my shorts, and I tug sadly at a bit of lace. There goes our little game.

But it’s not just the disruption of our first night in our new home that bothers me. Calder was acting so strangely earlier—bringing up doubts and fears I didn’t know he harbored. I thought I had the whole night to show him the tr
uth, the whole night to prove—through words and touches and endearments—that I believe in what he and I have. Lou’s appearance is more than a pesky little interruption. What if she tells Calder what she told me—that she thinks we’re moving too fast? I don’t want to start this new phase of our relationship with any uncertainties between us.

BOOK: Sweet Victory: A Novella (His Wicked Games #2.5)
8.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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