Bad Boy Done Wrong Page 14

  She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him close and pressing her cheek against his chest. “I’m cold.”

  He pulled back to look down at her. “You want my jacket?” The temperature had dropped since sunset.

  She clung to him. “No.”

  That was when he realized she needed comfort, not warmth. He wrapped his arms around her and swayed slowly. Though what he really wanted to do was get her home, tuck her into bed and just hold her. Huh. That was new. He couldn’t ever remember wanting to hold a woman with no sex involved in the equation. Maybe Carrie was rubbing off on him—cuddling the wolf had turned the wolf into a cuddler. The truth hit him with shocking clarity, stealing his breath.

  He’d fallen for her. Hard. No chance of recovery.

  It should’ve alarmed him, but love made him stupid. Stupidly hopeful that somehow, someway they could make this work. He needed to let her know. Not now. Her mind was all tangled up with her ex. Tomorrow would be soon enough for a serious talk.

  They stayed another hour, until her parents announced the party was over. They had a flight to catch to Hawaii the next day to recreate their honeymoon. Everyone laughed and cheered them on.

  He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Carrie’s shoulders, then walked her to his truck, one hand on the small of her back. She was quiet and he knew her well enough to know she was still hurting. “Anything I can do?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  They got to his truck and he helped her in the passenger side and shut the door. Actually he did that all the time. Guess some of his gentleman manners had trickled out without him thinking about it.

  On the drive home, she broke down in quiet tears. He’d been expecting it, but it didn’t make it any easier. His chest ached in sympathy. By the time he pulled into the parking lot at her place, she was wiping her eyes.

  He turned off the truck. “Would you take him back right now if you could?”

  “No!” Fresh tears poured out. “But it could’ve been me! He proposed to me! I told him no.”

  “C’mere.”

  She just kept crying, her shoulders shaking. “How did he move on so fast? Was he with her when we were together?”

  He pulled her across the console and cradled her in his lap. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t belong with him. He made you miserable.”

  She sobbed into his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, wishing he knew how to make it better for her. She spoke in a choked voice. “My mom apologized to me right after the ceremony. She didn’t know about the pregnancy. Edward had kept it a secret, even from his own parents.”

  “I’m sorry you found out that way.” He couldn’t think of a single good reason why her ex would keep it secret unless the pregnancy had been a surprise to him too, sprung on him at a late date.

  She sniffled, her tone laced with bitterness. “I guess now the news is out!”

  He stroked her hair.

  Finally she quieted and lifted her head. “I’m sorry. I ruined your shirt.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He glanced down at his shirt with black mascara and pink lipstick along with her tears. Stupid Edward. “You know why your ex chooses such young women?”

  She nodded. “I get it now. He wants to mold them.”

  “And you don’t need molding. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  She started crying again.

  “What?” he asked, alarmed. “Why does that make you cry?”

  “I’m not perfect. I’m messed up!” She met his eyes through a sheen of tears. “Look what I’m doing with you. I used you.”

  “No. I’m right where I want to be.”

  She frowned and wiped the smudged mascara from under her eyes. “I should’ve been satisfied with a one-night thing, or at least just once through the list. Instead I dragged it on for more and more fucking and then revenge against that bastard and—” her voice choked “—and I’m a terrible person.”

  “No, you’re not terrible.”

  “How can you say that? My life is about sex! His is about love and home and family.”

  His chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Was that all he was to her? He’d thought she had real feelings for him. The way she lit up in his arms. The way she’d included him with her friends and her family. Before he could say anything at all, she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. She was in a bad place right now. Not thinking clearly.

  “I’m taking you back to my place,” he told her. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

  She lifted her head, her eyes watery and red. “I have Ally.”

  “Ally won’t hold you all night.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice breaking. He slid her back to the passenger seat and made the short drive back to his place.

  “It was a beautiful ceremony, wasn’t it?” she asked as he guided her inside.

  “It was. Your parents are very lucky.”

  “They are,” she said, folding herself into him and wrapping her arms around him tight.

  He hugged her back for a long moment and then did the only thing he could think of—scooped her up and carried her to bed. He stripped down to his boxers and helped her out of the dress, the strapless bra, and her heels. Then he tucked her into his side, pulled the blanket over both of them, and held her until exhaustion finally claimed her and she went limp, dropping into sleep. This time he didn’t slide her to her side. Just held her, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t figure he’d get much sleep, but what the hell. Carrie was hurting and it was his job to take care of her.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough for their relationship talk. This wasn’t just about sex. It had to be more.

  He must’ve dozed off. He woke to an empty bed.

  He slowly sat up, jaw clenched tight. She was never up before him. Her clothes and purse weren’t where he’d left them on the dresser. The apartment was silent as a tomb.

  “Carrie!” he barked.

  Dead silence.

  He swore, grabbed a pillow and flung it across the room. Then he leaped out of bed, adrenaline fueling every muscle with tension. Fight or flight. He was a fighter; Carrie chose flight. Not gonna work for him.

  But first he needed fists to a punching bag, running long distance, a hard physical workout. He couldn’t be held responsible for what came out of his mouth when he was this pissed off. He’d been wronged after he did everything right.

  He ground his teeth and yanked on a shirt. He’d been there for her, holding her all night, and then she just left? Did she think that was it? That he’d just slink off, forgotten and thrown away?

  Nope. Not gonna happen. Not by a long shot.

  ~ ~ ~

  Carrie was home, lying on the living room sofa in her favorite summer pajamas that always made her smile because of the cute kittens wearing party hats, but nothing could make her smile today. She held a cold compress over her eyes swollen from all her tears. Ally was fussing over her, tucking her in with a blanket and then bringing over a cup of hot tea. She sat up. “Thank you.”

  Ally sat next to her and patted her leg. “Edward is a dick.”

  “I know,” Carrie said. “I don’t know why I’m taking this so hard. It’s not like I want to be with him.”

  “It was a shock.”

  “Yes.” She sipped some tea. “And I guess some part of me saw a future that I’d never have.”

  “You’ll have a better future with a better man. Like Zach.”

  “Zach,” she said softly. “What the hell did I do to that man? Just picked him up at a bar, handed him my wish list, and fucked him senseless for two weeks.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Everything’s wrong with that! That’s not me and you know it. I don’t even know who I am anymore.” She stared off in the distance. “I’m lost, Ally,” she whispered over the lump in her throat. “I might never find myself again.”

  Ally squeezed her shoulder. “You will, I promise.
You’re one of the most practical people I know. Not everything is as bad as it feels right now. Okay?”

  “It feels pretty shitty.”

  Ally sighed. “I know. You want to binge-watch Gilmore Girls and eat ice cream?”

  “Yes,” she said in a small voice. It was their little comfort tradition.

  By the time dinner rolled around, she was feeling a lot better. Nothing like escaping into another world to make the present more bearable.

  “Pizza?” Ally asked.

  “Sure.”

  Ally called and put in their usual order for pepperoni and mushrooms. Only a few minutes later, the doorbell rang.

  “That was fast,” Ally said and went to the peephole. She turned to Carrie. “It’s Zach. Are you up to seeing him?”

  Carrie pushed her hair out of her face. She hadn’t even brushed it. “No, I look terrible. I’m in my pajamas.”

  “Hurry up and get dressed!” She unlocked the dead bolt and Carrie scrambled off the sofa, taking off toward her bedroom.

  She dashed inside her room and locked the door. Then she heard Ally say, “Hi there! She’ll be out in just a minute.”

  Zach grumbled something in reply.

  Carrie hurriedly stripped out of her kitten pajamas.

  “Wait!” Ally exclaimed. “She’s getting ready.”

  A knock on her door. “Carrie, I left you several messages,” he boomed through the door. “We need to talk.”

  She stilled, surprised at both his volume and his urgent tone. “My phone was off.”

  “Open up.”

  She pulled on a bra and fumbled the straps.

  “Now,” he said in the deep voice of authority. She stiffened. He was not the boss of her.

  “You will have to wait!” she barked back and adjusted her bra.

  “I don’t care what you look like.” The knob jiggled. “Get your pretty ass out here.”

  Her eyes widened at the audacity, ordering her around and complimenting her at the same time. “My pretty ass needs some shorts.” She reached for her T-shirt, slipped it over her head, and looked around for the matching shorts.

  “You better not be coordinating colors and shit.”

  She heard Ally giggle and then suddenly quiet. Zach probably glared at her.

  “Not appreciating the Neanderthal routine!” she hollered back, running to the bathroom mirror and hurriedly wetting down her hair. Her eyes were still swollen from the tears, her skin blotchy.

  “Not appreciating waiting! I can pick this lock, you know.”

  “Just hold on!” She quickly brushed her hair. Then she grabbed her toothbrush, squeezed out some toothpaste, and turned on the water.

  “Are you brushing your teeth like a good girl?”

  She froze. Those were fighting words. He knew she was trying to get away from the image that had held her back for so long. And of course she was brushing her teeth. She never neglected personal hygiene. She commenced teeth brushing without bothering to reply. Would a good girl be so rude? No, she would not. She could hear Ally trying to run interference, speaking in a cheerful tone. Zach’s response was a low growl.

  Finally she finished, stalked across the room and opened the door. “I’m ready, okay!”

  His surly expression softened the moment he met her eyes. He folded her against his chest and held her tight. Her entire body relaxed in the firm hold, the last of the tension seeping out of her.

  “You know what?” Ally chirped. “I’m just going to pick up the pizza in person.” She left a moment later.

  Zach finally released her. “You left without saying goodbye. I was worried about you.”

  She searched his features, not quite believing him. “If you were that worried, you would’ve tracked me down earlier.”

  “All right, I was pissed,” he said. “I needed some time to calm down. You cry like that for hours, I try to take care of you and then you just leave?”

  Her heart squeezed painfully hard at the hurt in his voice. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I headed home because I wanted to curl up on my own sofa and drown my sorrows in ice cream.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders, led her to the sofa, and sat next to her. His eyes were sympathetic. “Did you drown your sorrows?”

  “I guess. I’m not sure why it threw me so much.”

  He grunted. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor. “Carrie, I want to keep seeing each other. Just a little longer. I know you’re starting grad school next week and you’ll be busy, but I’m still around for a few months.” He straightened and met her eyes. “I’m not ready to stop seeing you.”

  Her heart thudded in her ears. He sounded so sincere, so sweet. How was it that one man could hold so much caveman in him and sweetness at the same time? She must’ve been worn out from her crying jag because she could feel herself softening toward him, considering the possibility of something more.

  “But you’re leaving to go halfway across the world,” she said.

  His hand slid under her hair, squeezing the nape of her neck in that way he had of firm possession and affection. “We’ll cross that ocean when we get to it.”

  “But—”

  He cut her off with a kiss and her resistance crumpled. She lost herself in him, pure joy radiating through her at the closeness after their brief separation that she’d feared was permanent. His hands slid under her shirt, his mouth hard and demanding, making her moan with wanton need. She reached for his waistband and he tore his mouth from hers.

  “When’s Ally coming back?” he asked.

  “Soon. She’s just picking up pizza.”

  He stood, bringing her with him. “Come on. We’ll go to my place.”

  She didn’t have to think about it. She craved what he could give her, craved their joining, even as she knew she was caving to baser need. Lust made her stupid and she’d probably regret it, but not today. Today she needed him.

  They walked to his place, Zach’s hand on the small of her back. He stopped several times to kiss her passionately, almost like he wanted to keep her in a hyper-aroused state. Or maybe he was afraid she’d bail, but her body was already way ahead of her brain. They reached the short stretch of sidewalk that led to his door when he halted suddenly.

  A tall, thin woman stood on his doorstep. Everything about her looked polished and professional and, frankly, uptight. From her dark brown hair in a smooth pageboy cut to the string of pearls around her neck to the conservative short-sleeve black dress and matching black pumps. Next to her was a large black suitcase.

  Carrie’s mind scrambled to reconcile the man she knew, her bad boy, her wild man traveling the far reaches of civilization, and how he could know a woman like this—sophisticated and uptight—who seemed prepared for a long visit.

  “Who is that?” Carrie asked, deliriously hopeful it was his sister since they were both tall and lean, though her suddenly clammy hands told her it was most definitely not.

  Zach swore and strode up to the woman, leaving Carrie behind. Not that it mattered because the woman spoke in clear crisp tones as if she wanted Carrie to hear.

  “Congratulations on your fellowship,” the woman said. “I also have an opportunity in Singapore. I can join you in May as soon as the semester ends.”

  Zach stared at the woman for a long moment before speaking in a tone that Carrie couldn’t catch. He suddenly seemed to remember Carrie and crossed back to her. “I’ll get rid of her. Come on.”

  “Who is she?” Carrie whispered. “What does she mean fellowship?”

  “My ex. This’ll be quick.” He dragged her along.

  She dug her heels in. “I don’t want to meet your ex.”

  He stopped and gazed into her eyes. “I met yours.” The implication was clear. He’d done her a favor showing up as her date for the ex confrontation. Now she appreciated that even more because she didn’t have the slightest interest in meeting his ex. In fact, she was ready to bolt.

  He slid
an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Don’t leave. You know I’ll only chase you down and bring you back.”

  He was teasing, reminding her of the first time she bolted from his apartment and he’d carried her back inside, tossed over his shoulder. “Fine. I’ll meet her, briefly, and then I’m going straight inside.”

  His voice dropped deep and low. “Where you belong.”

  Her stomach did a delicious flip. What this man did to her. Despite the evidence to the contrary—the woman had a suitcase like she planned to stay—she told herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d deal with his ex and then return to Carrie as promised. She certainly wouldn’t want to be judged by the appearance or actions of her ex.

  Carrie approached the front door, a smile plastered on her face. Zach stuck close to her side and introduced her to the woman.

  “Muriel, this is Carrie.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” Carrie chirped. “I’m just going to head inside.” She pointed around the woman to the door.

  The woman grabbed her hand and shook it in a firm grip. “Dr. Muriel Hapsburg. One of Zach’s colleagues at the university and more than that, as you might’ve guessed. A year together, quite serious.”

  Carrie’s mind whirled. She turned to him. “You work at a university?”

  Zach shoved a hand in his hair. “Yes, a professor of anthropology. I was going to tell you. Right after the anniversary celebration, but then you were crying and we just got back here. I was going to tell you,” he finished lamely.

  “Who does she think you are?” Muriel asked.

  Carrie stared at Zach, uncomprehending, trying to reconcile reality with what she thought she knew. And then something clicked. “That’s why Josh called you professor. But you said you were a travel guide, who was currently unemployed. And then you got the Singapore gig.”

  “It’s not a gig,” Muriel said, emphasizing the word like it was ludicrous. “He’s just been granted a senior research fellowship at the Asia Research Institute.” She turned to Zach. “I assume you’ll be continuing work on your book there.”

  He inclined his head.

  Book? Shit! Josh had asked him about his book too. But Zach had said there was no book. Carrie blinked, willing herself to understand how she could’ve been so manipulated that she believed the man who stood in front of her. A stranger to her now. The man she thought she knew didn’t exist.