The Tenant (24 page)

Amanda was suffocating again.

She needed air. Needed time alone. Needed to think.

She needed a cold shower and a re-evaluation of her priorities. Not necessarily in that order.

“I’ll be back before food gets here,” she told her sister and all but ran for her door. “Need to take a shower.” Maybe also scream under the jet of water until all the hurt and doubt were gone, and she was herself once more.

And if
herself
wanted to call him the next morning, Amanda would stop holding back and do exactly that.

Where had the past month gone? It was as though Derek had blinked and been fast-forwarded to mid-June.

His life was back on track.
He
was back on track. Hell, he was no longer drinking during the day.

To be fair, he hadn’t had time to do much during the day. At first, he’d been too busy moving into his new place. Catherine had signed the finalized contract for the restaurant soon after.

From what he figured, she’d tried to cut back on all of the restaurant’s expenses, but it had been burning a hole in her inexperienced pocket. She’d fired his sous chef, and the chef had resigned and taken half the staff with him. Many of Derek’s trusted suppliers had been replaced by others that offered lower prices and inadequate credentials, and with only a fraction of the cleaning staff he used to have, what had once been a gem of an Italian restaurant had turned into a shabby diner that mostly attracted couples wanting to keep their illicit affairs secret.

Derek would have none of that and began setting it up from scratch. He approached his old employees willing to offer raises on their previous salaries, but was surprised when they agreed to return for what they made before. He was touched, to say the least, by their willingness to rebuild what his hyena of an ex had demolished through bad management and greed.

Not to say Derek sat back and watched. He put in hours of personal work, making up for the neglect the establishment had undergone. He’d wake up before sunrise to paint walls and scrub ovens clean, and personally supervised every aspect of the renovation. In the afternoon, he’d meet with suppliers, assist the chef in redesigning the menu, and he even saw a PR specialist to help him get the word out he was back behind the wheel.

He was usually dead with exhaustion by the time he hit the mattress, which worked wonders for his decision not to think about Amanda Murphy any longer. It was usually enough to keep him sane.

Tonight was
un
usual.

He’d been thinking about her all day. Thinking about the time they’d spent together and how they’d left things. It had to be because he hadn’t had much to do all day. It was Saturday, the restaurant was mostly ready for its re-launch, and he’d let everyone go home early. The grand re-opening would be in two weeks, and all that was left to do was write some invitations and make some calls.

Easy.

Easy wasn’t good; it left him time to think, and time to think meant time to miss her.

And he did miss her. So much. It was weird; they’d only crossed paths for so little time, but her energy had filled a void inside him, and he knew she’d felt it too. Maybe that was what all the fighting had been about—stubborn people’s foreplay.

Pity he hadn’t met her sooner, before he’d become an ass and she’d become a bride-to-be. He would love to spend more guilt- and argument-free time with her. Getting to know her. Getting to make love to her.

He should stop thinking about her, but he’d gone through most of his phone’s contact list, and was down to Mu—

Murphy.

He should send her parents a written invitation. If Amanda wasn’t too busy with her wedding preparations, she might show up. No pressure.

But right under
Murphy, Kenneth
was an entry he didn’t remember making.

Murphy, Mandi

He had to have saved her number when she’d first called him to warn him off her property.

And since it was there…

He wouldn’t be snarky or overly friendly. He’d say he was having a party to celebrate his comeback to the restaurant world, and would love for her and her family—fiancé included—to drop by.

Or something along those lines.

He selected her number and pressed call, still unsure he was doing the right thing.

He had no time to change his mind; the call was answered at the first ring.

“Hello?” It wasn’t Amanda. It was Alice, and she sounded amused.

“Hey, former neighbor.” Derek couldn’t help but smile. She always had that effect on him.

“Oh my God, you’re
Naked Asshole
?”

“I’m what?”

“That’s how my sister has you in her phone. Oops. I don’t think you were supposed to find out.”

He probably should have been insulted, but he laughed. “Your sister must have a very interesting contacts list,” he said.

“She does indeed! She should change your name to
Disappearing Naked Asshole
, though. You haven’t called once since you moved out. Didn’t you miss us even a little bit? And how are you? How’s the new place? Am I ever seeing it?”

He wanted to tell her yes, he’d missed her bouncy and upbeat character, and she could come by whenever, but she was Amanda’s sister, and he had to keep his distance. “I’m good, but everyone’s so boring here,” he said. “None of my new neighbors can hold a candle to you. You’re the nosiest, most intrusive neighbor I could ever have. Irreplaceable.”

“Oh, shut up! I know I’m awesome, even if my sister seems to agree with you.”

There was his opening. “Is she there, by any chance?”

“She—ummm—she had to pop by yo—her place for a while, but she’ll be back.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. He’d been looking forward to hearing Amanda’s voice after so long, but it apparently wasn’t meant to be. He should let sleeping dogs lie, as his mom liked to say. He’d tell Alice about
Arbore’s
grand opening and let her pass the message on to Amanda.

“It’s okay. I just wanted to invite all of you to my restaurant’s grand re-opening on the thirty first.”

“Of this month?” Alice squealed with glee. “You got it back up and running? Already? That’s awesome, Derek!”

It really was. He wished it were Amanda telling him how happy she was for him.

“Yeah. Text me your e-mail and I’ll make sure you all get an e-vite.”

“All of us?”

“Sure. Amanda can bring her boyfriend too.” He was being petty, but he didn’t let it bother him.

“Her boyfriend?” Alice sounded genuinely confused.

“Fiancé. Whatever.”

“Oh… You know, I think you should invite her yourself. In person.”

“I don’t think she’ll want to see me after everything. You don’t know—”

“Oh, I know
everything
, Derek
.
”

Ah
. “I see.”

“And I still think you should drop by her place, say sometime in the next twenty minutes, and tell her
in person
what you really want to say. You know, about the thirty first.”

“Thirty first?”

“Of June. Your restaurant?”

Right.
Focus.
He’d called for a reason, and if he were to go by the apartment, it would be for the same exact one.

He had about twenty minutes to figure out what that was.

•●•

He rang Alice’s intercom doorbell instead of Amanda’s. He and Amanda had been on friendly terms before he’d left, but that didn’t guarantee she would let him in if she had a choice.

Alice buzzed him in, and he took the stairs up. Now that he was in the building, he couldn’t wait to see her.

He halted outside the door that used to be his and inhaled deeply. He had to tone down his excitement. Yes, he’d see her, but nothing would change. Best-case scenario, she’d smile and he’d smile, and he’d ask her to the opening, and she’d say she’d go, and maybe she would make an appearance. Worst-case scenario, she wouldn’t even answer the door.

In both cases, she’d be married in a month.

He knocked and schooled his face to a less exuberant expression. He heard her light footsteps and then she was there, at the opening of the door, gaping at him.

He gaped right back, and not to mock her.

She was wrapped in a bath towel, her wet hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.

“I thought you were Alice,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“I’m not,” he answered lamely.

He stood there, studying her through the threshold. If possible, she looked even more beautiful, her skin glowing, her eyes sparkling.

Mentally, he ordered himself to speak. To explain why he was there. But she wasn’t asking. She just looked back, her green eyes unnerving him.

He opened his mouth, but the wrong words came out. “Don’t marry him.”

She was ready to say something, but if she didn’t get to say it, it didn’t have to be true. He pushed the door all the way open and wrapped one arm around her waist. His fingers touched bare skin. “Don’t marry him,” he said again, and kissed her.

He knew she’d fight him, push him away, and he used his second arm to pin her to his body, to allow her no leeway.

She clutched his shoulders, her fingernails digging in through his shirt, but instead of trying to shake his grip, she climbed his body.

She was returning his kiss.
Had been
since their lips touched, but he’d been too worried she’d send him away to notice.

Withdrawing from the kiss, he turned and crushed her body between his and the wall, right there by the open door. “Don’t marry him.”

Her towel slipped, and he bent down to taste a rosy nipple. He nibbled on it, feeling it harden in his mouth while his cock hardened between her legs. He’d worn dress slacks without underpants, and could feel her wetness through the fabric.

She grasped him by the hair and lifted his face to hers. “No foreplay.” She gasped when he rubbed against her. “Been too long.”

It fucking had. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, cursing when he had to pause to undo his belt. Why hadn’t he come in the drawstring pants he wore when he’d spoken to Alice?

Right. Because this was supposed to be a cursory visit.

He smashed his lips to hers once more at the same time he pushed inside her to the hilt. She gave out a little sigh and he swallowed it and let it echo in the emptiness that had crept up on him while he was away. This couldn’t be wrong. She couldn’t be responding to his touch—to his thrusts—the way she was now and go marry someone else in a few short weeks. He knew her by now; she wasn’t the cheater he’d accused her of being. Her opening her body to him was proof of more than her need for release.

He bent his knees and started hammering inside her, loving the way she urged him on. She bit his lips and met him thrust for thrust, using her thighs to ride him as hard as he took her.

He heard the elevator move and the darkest part of him wished it was Mason. He’d see them and leave her. That way there would be chance of her changing her mind and returning to him after this. After tonight there could be no way back.

His orgasm neared, and he slammed his open palm on the wall. The pain should stave it off. She had to come first. He had to make her come.

“Now.” Her whisper echoed his thought.

Her hips flew toward him, her body arching. Her head thudded against the wall, but she smiled and kept riding him. Clenching around him. Her legs trembled, she was short of breath, flushed, hair coming loose from the band that kept it off her face and whipping him.

Faster.
Faster
.

He shuddered and pulled out of her just in time for his cum to spray her stomach. He’d branded her. He smiled. His legs had turned to jelly.

He slouched, one hand on Amanda’s shoulder, keeping her in place. He didn’t want to have to watch her run from what had just happened.

He didn’t know how he was still standing.

She covered his hand with hers but didn’t move other than that. Didn’t speak.

Unnerving.

This was it. This was the moment of truth. Yes, she wanted him, but hadn’t that always been the case? He’d known that already. What he needed from her was to choose him.