G-Men: The Series (108 page)

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Authors: Andrea Smith

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“I never loved Lacee. I never led her on or gave her reason to believe there’d ever be anything else between us.”

Screw being crazy and unhealthy. Suddenly, I was just very…tired. With that last statement, everything that Easton and I had been doing, what with my initial and powerful attraction to him on the beach, and then the scene with him and Lacee at the rehearsal dinner, followed by my knocking on his door at the hotel, and the great finale of becoming my boss and my fraying willpower that had led us
back
to said hotel…

Circles. That’s all we were doing, dancing in circles around each other and the mess that it was starting to cause. Jesus, how annoying had I become? I’d made a decision that night of the rehearsal dinner that I wanted no part of this gorgeous—yet clearly out of my league man. And then I folded. Then I folded
again
making yet
another
decision to not screw him once he became my employer. Good God—I was starting to sound like one of those heroines in books who make damsels of themselves when they could’ve saved themselves a long time ago!

“Got it,” I said, after giving myself that little wake-up call. “But you do get that you just described you and me as well, right? You never made any promises to Lacee, and here you are—
not
making any promises to me. The difference is: I’m
not
Lacee.”

I took a quick breath, slowly shaking my head at the thought. “My first heartbreak with Darin was bad enough. But it was a quick, clean break. However, this back-and-forth thing between you and me? It won’t be a fast break. It’s going to be one of those slow ones full of gray areas and
unpromises
.”

“What are you saying?” he interrupted, his voice husky.

Man up, Darce.

“I’m saying fast-forward six months, Easton. At the rate we’re going, you’ll be my boss, and I’ll still be that employee of yours who’s not fooling anyone with my short, easy-access skirts that you’ll have me start wearing so that we can have quickies in a locked bathroom.” I shot him a quick look to see if he understood the jab. “I’m saying that I’ve crossed the line. And I don’t want to do it again. I can’t fuck a guy without developing feelings for him. I’m just not capable of it. It’s not who I am.”

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers as if exhausted. That was rare to see Easton anything but energetic; when he walked, when he talked, at work—in bed when he fucked, it was all about power and energy. He was different now.

“I can’t give you what you want, Darcy. I don’t have it to give, I’m sorry. But isn’t what we have the next best thing? We enjoy being with one another—isn’t that enough?”

I want to spit banana in his face! Calm down…think before you speak.

“No,” I replied calmly. Making sure my face was void of any of emotion or any kind of weakness Easton could seduce.”We have nothing, as far as I can tell.”

He stood up, totally frustrated, turning his back to me, running his hands through his thick, dark hair in exasperation. He finally whirled back around, and came closer, lowering himself in front of me, resting on his haunches. His hands were steepled together and his gorgeous eyes shuttered as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully.

“I can’t seem to stay away from you,” he confessed. “You have to know my regard for you is nowhere in the same vicinity as what was between Lacee and me. With her, I could take it or leave it, not so with you,” he said gently, finally looking into my eyes for some kind of understanding.

I didn’t understand. I don’t know, maybe it was a guy thing, or an Easton thing, but I certainly didn’t get the memo about all these different degrees of caring. In my world, you either cared or you didn’t. People either mattered or they didn’t. You either had a future together or not.

I’m not gonna lie, something inside me snapped a little.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? The fact that you have the ability to…what? Compartmentalize people and emotions on some…some
EASTON
scale? So, you’ve established the fact that with Lacee it was purely a physical, no strings attached thing, and then there’s me. What am I? A notch above that? Maybe a notch-and-a-half? Define my role, please. What does being a notch-and-a-half above Lacee give me?”

I was on a roll now. I don’t think anything save him suddenly using his necktie as a gag to put over my mouth could stop me. Don’t think for a minute he probably wasn’t contemplating doing
just
that.

“Let’s see, it must mean I’m given the
honor
of being kissed while we fuck, and then there’s also the additional perk of you not ordering me out of your bed as soon as we’re finished! Oh, let’s not forget that I only went home with a
sore ass
versus other more serious possibilities. Tell me—in the scheme of things, where do you see my current role taking me in my
5-year
plan?
Is there
growth potential
in this position, or am I going to crash against the glass ceiling?”

I was on my feet glaring at him now, standing right in front of him. His face darkened. His eyes blazed. I’d hit a raw nerve with Easton Matthews and I didn’t give a shit.

“Well, I see you and Lacee had quite a little soiree this afternoon,” he snapped. “Swapping stories it seems.”

“Lacee did all of the talking. For once, I just listened; and I didn’t like what I heard, I’m sorry to say. Every person has feelings that should be respected. I don’t give a fuck how many times you’ve set the parameters of the sexual relationship you had going with her, apparently somewhere along the way, she missed a couple bi-weekly memos. And that’s on you, because if you
did
tell her that there would never be anything deeper between the two of you, you didn’t tell her very damn well.”

“It’s more complicated than
that
,” he replied.

“Why?”

“I don’t know why. It just is. I know my capabilities as well as my limitations. I didn’t intentionally set out to hurt her, and I wouldn’t intentionally do anything to hurt you, most of all. I just don’t have it within me to love anyone the way they expect to be loved. I’m deficient in emotional connections, I suppose.”

“Bullshit! You’ve chosen that path for yourself for whatever reason, so please don’t blame it on being emotionally deficient, unless of course you’re a certified sociopath. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Uh oh…

He grabbed me, pulling me up against his hard body, fisting my ponytail so that my face tilted up, inches from his. His dark gray eyes were flashing with fury that I’d suggested he was sociopathic. I suppose now was not the right time to tell him that I’d read somewhere many successful CEO’s, political leaders, and influential people were certified sociopaths.

His mouth lowered to within an inch or less of mine.

“Is that what you really think? Do you truly believe that you’ve been
fucking
a dangerous sociopath?”

His voice was harsh and menacing as he looked into my eyes. I didn’t flinch or show fear, which, of course, is what he wanted.

“No,” I stated firmly. “I think I’ve been fucking someone who doesn’t know who or what he is, much less what he wants. I think he’s someone that has some baggage he hasn’t dealt with, which is a shame, because he’s almost perfect otherwise,” I finished softly.

We stood there for a few moments…him fisting my hair, and me holding his stare.

He let out a breath we’d both been holding. Releasing my ponytail, he took a step back. “I don’t want to let you go,” he said, almost as if to himself.

I wrapped my arms around myself in something that would probably look a lot like defeat. I waited for him to continue.

“You’re always on my mind,” he said. I saw a decision glint beneath his long, sooty eyelashes. “But I know what I am and what I’m capable of, and as much as I want to, I can’t give you what you want and need. I’ll only hurt you in the end and I
don’t
want that. I’m sorry. I’m going to make arrangements to return to London. I’ll assign a very capable acting replacement for me until I return.”

A quick, clean break.

I managed a nod, kind of wondering where all of my strength from before had gone. I guess somewhere in our conversation, I’d lent it to him. Because now, he was doing the very thing I asked for and wanted. Right?

I was still looking down at my ‘Pretty in Pink’ toenails when I felt him put his arms around me, holding me tight in the way that every girl loves.

“Good-bye, love,” he whispered against my hair. “I wish it could’ve been different. I wish I was fucking different.”

I nodded again, this time being the one to take a step back. I watched as he opened the door, getting ready to leave. Midway past the threshold, he stopped.

“She didn’t love me.” He didn’t spare me by looking back, so I wasn’t able to see the look on his face. “Lacee, I mean. She wanted to
fix
me, and there’s a very thick line between loving someone and having the desire to fix them.”

The door closed.

A broken sigh rattled through my lips. I wouldn’t let anything more out; there was no need. It wasn’t as if I had that much time, effort, or affection invested in Easton Matthews. This was different than with Darin, though. This was the pain over a hesitated decision, a decision I’d probably always hesitate over and never really be quite sure of.

The rest of the evening was spent in a fog. I curled up on the couch, feeling alone, isolated, and empty. I drifted to sleep finally, awakening much later when Eli got in and flicked on the overhead light.

“What are you doing down here in the dark?” he asked, looking concerned.

I was hoping he’d simply figure I’d stayed home, got drunk, and passed out on the sofa.

No such luck!

“Oh baby girl,” he said alarmed, coming over to sit down next to me. “You’ve been
dumped.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, Eli?” I asked. “I just don’t…want to be alone right now.”

“Slumber party it is,” he said, pulling me up off the couch. “We can’t be too loud, though. My mom will get angry and then she won’t pack my ‘Super Man’ juice box for lunch tomorrow. And little Tommy will beat me up.”

I was already fighting a smile as I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

For the second time this evening, I fell asleep. Only this time, Eli was next to me, assuring me that everything would be okay.

chapter 22

I hadn’t seen Lindsey since the wedding, and had only talked to her a couple of times by phone after she and Taz returned from their honeymoon. I’d called her as I was leaving the office the following day and asked if I could stop by and visit my god-daughter.

“Well, of course,” she said. “You don’t need an invitation. I’m dying to show you pictures of our trip.”

As soon as I’d gotten into my car, I flipped the mirror down on the driver’s side to reapply some concealer around my eyes, due to lack of restful sleep. Eli said I’d tossed and turned so much he had to get up and take a Dramamine before he came back to bed. That was another one of his attempts at trying to lift my spirits. It hadn’t worked.

As soon as Lindsey opened the door, her eyes flickered over me from top to bottom. I had sunglasses on because it
was
actually a sunny day in March.

“Well, come on in,” she squealed. “It seems like it’s been forever.” She and I hugged inside the door. “Come on in the living room, Harper’s taking a nap, but she should be up in another half-hour or so. She grows daily.”

I took off my jacket and sunglasses and followed Lindsey into the living room. She sat on the couch, watching me as I joined her.

“What’s going on?” she asked, point blank.

“Nothing’s going on,” I lied. “Just missed you is all.”

“Darcy, I love you, but you look a bit hellish. Plus, I can see that you’ve recently put on some cover-up.” She gave me the squinty eye, “Oh…My…God.”

Bingo.

“You’ve been
dumped.

Jesus, would people stop saying that…

“What?”

“Don’t deny it,” she said. “Who was it? You didn’t take Darin back, did you? What the hell’s going on?”

“Okay, okay,” I said, settling back. There was no way Lindsey and I could keep things from one another, even when we wanted to. “It
was
Easton,” I replied.

“What?” she screeched.

“Shhh,” I hushed her. “You’re going to wake the baby up.”

“I think that’s my line, Darce. And she’s so used to the racket Taz makes, she can sleep through an earthquake. Now, tell me how in the hell you got involved with Easton.”

I gave her the short story, starting from our night together after their wedding. I left out details about our other sexual encounter because that was really no one else’s business. I did tell her some of the things Lacee had mentioned, though.

“Wow,” she said, sitting back and shaking her head. “I had no clue you two would hit it off like that.”

“We didn’t actually hit it off. I mean, he basically told me he’s incapable of loving anyone.”

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