Notice Page 7

  “You’re hiding something from me,” she declares as she rises from the bed. She stalks over to her favorite place to annoy me and plops down. Her legs are crossed as she attempts to decode the numbers of the lock that’s attached to the cedar chest. “Who is she?” she demands with her back to me.

  “Enough of this, Gwen,” I seethe as I pace at the end of the bed. “We’ll spend the day together tomorrow. Just give it a rest.”

  She gives up on the lock, like always, and stands. “I have a part of you inside of me. You seem to forget. It links us, Gray. Some weird kind of sixth sense. I feel it. Something is wrong. You’re hiding something from me. You promised you’d never do this to me.”

  We glare at each other for a long couple of minutes before I relent. “Fine. Meet me at Bull and Sadie’s. Joshua hasn’t seen you in ages. He’s into Paw Patrol now so make sure you’ve googled the lingo because he’s going to talk your fucking ear off.”

  She squeals before launching herself into my arms. I hug her to me and inhale her comforting scent. “Thank you. I was going crazy cooped up in this house.”

  “Always so dramatic,” I tease before ruffling her hair. “Make sure you wash this mess before tonight. We’ll have one of my employees dining with us as well. Don’t overshare.”

  She snorts and bounds away from me. “Who me? Overshare? I would never.”

  “I mean it,” I call out to her even after a door slams shut behind her.

  Her voice is muffled. “No, you don’t.”

  A tiny smile plays on my lips.

  No, I really don’t.

  Gwen’s stories are sometimes the only breath of fresh air I get in an otherwise suffocating world. I just hope things don’t go too haywire with Violet. That woman is the exact opposite of Gwen. If you look at them side by side, you’d deem them as opposite as two women can be.

  And yet…

  Some part of me hopes that they’ll like each other.

  On the way to Bull and Sadie’s, Violet and I chatted about safe topics. Turns out she likes to read but her Kindle’s broken and she never thinks to go to the library until she’s in bed wanting to read. She loves breakfast food and sometimes makes it for dinner. And she can sing. In Latin of all languages. Her choir teacher in high school had a thing for Latin songs. I’d pressed her to sing me one but she’d just laughed and waved me off. The drive was light and fun.

  I haven’t been this relaxed in ages.

  And her scent filling my car had me wanting to reach across the console to thread my fingers in her hair so I could taste her pretty mouth too.

  Like a gentleman, I refrained from mauling her in my car. Instead, I stole glances. Tonight, she’s wearing jeans, like I’d requested, paired with some knee-high boots. Her sweater is fitted but she is clearly wearing a bra underneath. I am both annoyed and thankful for that. I’m dying to peel away her clothes and sink my cock into her hot body but I know women like Violet are worth the wait. When I finally do get my opportunity, it will be that much sweeter.

  “We’re here,” I tell her as I pull into the driveway beside Gwen’s Camaro. That shiny red sports car was my present to her for her thirtieth birthday.

  I climb out of the Range Rover and make it over to Violet’s side just as she’s opening the door. Our eyes meet as I hold it open for her and offer my hand.

  “So you can be a gentleman,” she teases. Even though she’s smiling, I don’t miss the nervousness that’s rippling from her. Her brown eyes dart down the street—both ways—before returning to mine. One day I’ll find out who she’s looking for. And if the fucker has hurt her in any way, I’ll harm him too.

  Once I close the door, I don’t let go of her hand until we reach the door. I’m not about to advertise my interest in Violet in front of Gwen. Not even going to go there tonight. I knock on the door and soon Sadie answers.

  “Well, if it isn’t my favorite guy,” she gushes as she steals a hug. “But don’t tell Jeff. You know he gets jealous.”

  We both chuckle.

  “Sadie,” I introduce with a wave of my hand. “This is my…” I trail off. I don’t want to introduce her as my girl, even though she is and just doesn’t know it yet. But “assistant” feels cold. We’re friends I suppose but I don’t like that one either. In the end, I choose the safest option. “She’s my Violet.”

  Sadie’s eyebrows raise. “Your Violet, huh?”

  “Violet Simmons,” Violet rushes out and extends her hand. “I’m Gray’s assistant at the office.”

  Sadie lets out a laugh. “Okay, that makes more sense. I thought I recognized you. I meet Jeff from time to time for lunch. You might remember my son bouncing through there, terrorizing everything and everyone in sight.”

  Violet smiles politely at her, but I can tell she feels uncomfortable. “I believe I’ve seen you a time or two.”

  “I’m hungry. What’re we having?” I question as we follow her inside. The Brownstone they live in is decorated well. Sadie does interior design. She’s the one who came through and turned my masculine home into something more livable. Gwen certainly doesn’t have the touch—not like Sadie.

  “Jeff marinated some steaks. Everything’s just about ready. We were just waiting for you to get here before we threw them on the grill,” Sadie chirps as we make our way toward the kitchen.

  Joshua, their rambunctious six-year-old, is sitting on the bar playing on his iPad. But when he sees me, he screeches before launching himself off the counter like a spider monkey. I catch him with a grunt as the growing boy nearly tackles me. “Uncle Hawk!”

  Violet’s gaze narrows at me as she eases to the side of the kitchen.

  “What have you been up to, buddy?” I question as I set him to his feet.

  He starts telling me about Minecraft, droning on about creepers and some guy named Steve. I have no idea what he’s going on about so I just nod and smile. Eventually he grows bored. “Where’s Aunt Gwen? She promised to play with me.”

  Sadie answers for me. “Aunt Gwen is out back with Daddy. Tell them Uncle Hawk is here.” Sadie turns to me as she grabs the plate with steaks. “I’m going to run these out. I’ll be right back. Help yourself to some wine.”

  She knows I don’t drink often for my own personal health reasons but always offers anyway. I do, however, pour a glass for Violet, who has gone tense with nerves.

  “Relax,” I tell her as I hand the wine to her.

  Her brown eyes are cold as she stares back at me. “What sort of game are you playing, Gray?”

  Frowning, I push the glass into her palm. “What do you mean?”

  She gulps down the red liquid and sets the glass down rather roughly so that it makes a clang. “This”—she gestures around us—“bringing me here. I thought…” Heat creeps up her neck and she shakes her head. “Never mind.”

  “We’re friends, Violet. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  She glares at me. “That’s what you wanted. But yes. That’s all we are.”

  When voices resound in the other room, Violet once again stiffens. A moment later, two familiar arms hug me from behind. “There you are. Late as always,” Gwen says with a laugh. Violet’s eyes are on mine, and I sense that she’s hurt. It makes my chest squeeze.

  “Hi,” Gwen greets, peeking around me to offer her hand. “I’m Gwen Maxwell. You must be the work associate he was telling me about.”

  Violet blinks several times before reaching for the wine. I watch her with a lifted brow as she fills it to the brim, ignoring Gwen’s outstretched hand. Instead, she waves and gulps half the glass down.

  Gwen drops her hand and looks up at me with a frown. Her feelings are hurt and her brilliant blue eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Before I can do damage control, Bull comes up beside Violet and tugs at her hair before leaning in to whisper loudly. “Just because your boss is an asshole doesn’t mean we are. You can’t help who you love. Ain’t that right, Gwen?” He flashes her a silly smile before regarding Violet. “But we’re not l
ike him.” He points at me, and I flip him off. “We’re a nice lot once you get to know us.”

  Violet seems to relax toward Bull but won’t meet my gaze. She’s a tough nut to crack. But I will crack her. I’ll get inside of her in every way that I can, and she’ll never be able to get me out.

  Gwen Maxwell.

  I can’t believe the nerve of that prick.

  Parading his would-be mistress around in front of his wife.

  The pain searing through me is similar to the first time Vaughn informed me he was going to share what I thought was sacred between us with another man. I was devastated. Furious even. But when I balked at his request, I’d learned who the strong one was in our relationship. Vaughn brought me to my knees that night with the back of his hand. And through my tears and not-so-silent begging, I’d pleaded for Vaughn to wake up and see what he was doing to me. To us. In one single night, he tore the hard-earned love from my heart and replaced it with something dark and sick.

  “You’re a quiet one,” Sadie, the attractive blonde woman, murmurs as she grabs my now empty dinner plate. “Want to help me in the kitchen?”

  I’m eager to escape the dining room where their child babbles about cartoons I know nothing about, and Gray’s wife stares at me as if I’m something rotten. She’d been all smiles until I couldn’t bring myself to shake her hand. How does one shake the hand of another woman when moments before she was lusting after her husband?

  Bile creeps up my throat, and I wish I had more wine to wash it down with. Thankfully, once in the kitchen, Sadie seems to sense my stress levels. She pulls a bottle of rum from the cabinet and pours some into a coffee mug. Then, she starts the Keurig. Hot coffee pours into the mug along with the liquor. We’re quiet as it fills. Once it’s done, she pushes it along the counter to me.

  “You like Gray,” she says softly.

  Usually, I like a sprinkle of sugar in my coffee but tonight I’m after the numbing liquid that will have to suffice as a substitute. “He’s my boss,” I murmur as politely as I can manage despite the fury raging inside of me. And I don’t like him. Not at all. Especially now.

  “He doesn’t bring women around. Ever. So you must be special,” she tells me and offers me a small smile.

  I clench my jaw and try desperately not to say anything I’ll regret tomorrow. “I don’t feel very special. I feel horrible and embarrassed. Poor Gwen.” Even though Gwen seems to hate me, I can’t help but feel remorse for her. Her husband is a cheating asshole. There was heat and desire in his eyes. The man wanted to nail me, and had I let him, he would have.

  “Oh, so you know?” she questions, her brows bunching together. “Don’t you feel sorry for her?”

  “Well, if I had to live with Gray, I’d feel sorry for me too,” I hiss at the seemingly nice woman. My anger is misplaced. I want to grab him by his stupid collar and shake him for leading me on.

  “He’s not so bad,” Sadie teases. “Even if he is a bit of a neat freak. I think that’s what bothers Gwen the most.”

  I gape at her as if she’s lost her mind. Neatness is Gwen’s problem with her husband? What about his eager dick? The damn thing was hard for me.

  “You girls having fun without me?” Gwen questions in a cool tone behind us. We both jerk around to stare at the small woman. Sadie glances at me and guilt shines in her eyes.

  “I’m not feeling so well,” I tell them both as I abandon the steaming mug of hot spiked coffee. “I think I’ll catch a cab home.”

  Gwen narrows her eyes at me. “I could have sworn you rode in with Gray. Is he not taking you home?”

  Swallowing, I shake my head. “Nope.”

  At this, she scowls. “Well then I’m taking you home.”

  Before I can argue, she stomps into the dining room and announces it to the two men. I can hear her and Grayson arguing in hissed tones. Sadie simply offers me a sympathetic smile.

  “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well,” Sadie says and pats my hand. “Please come over again.”

  I nod that I will as I snag my coat from the hook. The voices in the dining room grow louder, and I slip out the front door to escape them. Moments later, Gwen comes clomping down the steps and hits the fob, making the lights on a red Camaro light up. When I steal a look at the house, Gray stands in the doorway with his arms crossed over his massive chest. He’s pissed yet he has no right to be. If it weren’t for not wanting to cause a scene, I’d run right over there and give him a piece of my mind.

  Gwen and I don’t speak aside from me pointing her in the direction of my building. When she pulls up in front of it not twenty minutes later, she turns off her car. I reach for the door handle but she touches my arm to stop me. Turning, I meet her gaze and fear for a moment that she’ll slap me for something I didn’t do.

  “I’m sorry,” she says and bites on her bottom lip. The move makes her seem young, childlike almost.

  “About what?”

  “About getting off on the wrong foot. I was being grumpy and that wasn’t fair. He sort of blindsided me by inviting you. Work associate my ass,” she grumbles but waves me off when I start to speak. “Clearly, I love him. I just want him to be happy. I wish he would have told me about you—that he was dating you—”

  “We’re not dating,” I argue.

  “Fucking. Whatever. What I’m saying is—”

  “We’re not fucking!” I screech, horrified to even be having this conversation.

  She laughs and that confuses me. “Down girl. All I’m saying is that if he likes you, then I want him to do what makes him happy.”

  I gape at her, my mind attempting to process her words before I snap out of it.

  “Whatever kind of sick relationship you two have is your business. In two weeks, I’ll be out of your lives. I’m sorry I almost got involved in the middle of your…your…your whatever it is. Goodbye, Gwen,” I blurt before stepping out of the car and bolting to the building.

  The car door slams and she shouts after me. “Violet! Wait!”

  Ignoring the crazy woman, I rush into my building. I catch sight of a man leering from the shadows and I stop dead in my tracks.

  Vaughn?

  Panic slices through me, and I let out a garbled sob as I inch backward toward the door. I nearly knock down Gwen in the process.

  “Stay away from me!” I screech at the man hiding in the shadows.

  When he emerges, I flinch and cover my face with my hands. No! No! No! Gwen makes what sounds like a battle cry. Then, some man starts yelling. “My eyes! You bitch!”

  I jerk my gaze to see that now the man has fully come out of the shadows. It’s not Vaughn. Just one of the usual lecherous men who hang around these parts. She grabs my elbow and ushers me into the stairwell. Once the door closes behind us, she urges me up the steps quickly.

  “What just happened?” she demands when we get to the first landing.

  “Third floor,” I croak and point up. “I thought he was…I thought he was someone else.”

  “Grayson?”

  I blink at her in confusion. “No.” It won’t hurt to tell her. “I thought it was my ex. His name is Vaughn.”

  Understanding flashes in her bright blue eyes as she helps me to the third floor. My knees are wobbling, and I’m shaken up badly. She tugs my jangling keys from my grip when I can’t seem to fit the key into the slot. Once we step inside, I hastily snap all of the bolt locks in place. Her wide blue eyes are staring at me as if I’m an injured animal that might bite the person trying to help them.

  “Is this Vaughn character stalking you?” she questions, concern painting her pretty features. I want to hate her, but right now she’s the only person I’ve got.

  “No. I just…” I trail off and a shudder ripples through me. “I thought he might have found me, and it’s been stressing me out. I’m sure it’s all in my head. He can’t know where I am. I’ve made sure.”

  Her eyes flit around the dumpy apartment as she comprehends my meaning. “Can I make you somethin
g to drink?”

  Tears well in my eyes as I regard her. Hours ago her husband was on my couch making himself at home. Now, she’s in here, offering to serve me as if I’m her guest and not the other way around.

  “Vodka. Freezer,” I clip out.

  She nods and disappears into the kitchen while I plop down on my sofa. The afghan on the back was one my therapist made for me. I jerk it around me and attempt to warm up. I’m shaking from the inside out. When she returns, she has two glasses filled with what looks like ice water. I know better. I can smell that gasoline from a mile away.

  “Thirsty?” Her eyes flicker with a slight wickedness as she hands me my glass.

  I sip my vodka on the rocks and make a face. But the fire running down my throat instantly warms me. “I’m sorry about all of this.” I wonder if she can smell her husband’s scent lingering in my apartment. I can and I’m annoyed that I still like the smell.

  “So you’re having a bad day,” she says with a laugh and plops down beside me like we’re best friends. “I have them often.” Her eyes darken and she looks away from me. Guilt surges through me. I wonder how many other women Gray has been with while married to this woman. There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s beautiful and feisty. Why would he step out on her?

  “Why do you stay with him?” I ask, my throat suddenly choking up.

  Confusion swims in her eyes. “With Grayson?”

  I nod and her gaze softens.

  “Because I love him,” she says as if that’s enough reason. “And because I don’t cope well on my own.”

  “Cope?”

  “When I was a kid, I suffered from kidney issues. My left kidney was dying and trying to poison me in the process.” We both eye the alcohol in her hand and she sets it down on the table. “I’m not supposed to drink that.” She laughs and tears shine in her eyes. “There are a lot of things I’m not supposed to do now. But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gray.” Pure love is reflected in her gaze.