Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) (13 page)

“Don’t ever talk about my mom again. It was her wish that
Clint receive the money, so I’m going to respect it.”

“Laurie,” he started, his voice serious, heavy. “Did you
ever stop to think about
why
she
would demand something like that from her daughter? Your own mother out of all
people.” He inched closer to me until his thigh brushed mine. I peered at it
for a second, unsure whether to put some distance between us, when he resumed
the conversation. “Did it never occur to you that maybe she was forced? That
maybe she had no choice? That maybe she was fearing for her life?”

Slowly, his face came closer, his hot breath brushing my
lips. “Think, Laurie. The entire estate belonged to your mom. It’s been in your
family for generations—not just money, but heirlooms. You really think
anyone would give it away to someone they’ve known for a few years rather than
their own child?”

“I’m sure she had her reasons,” I protested weakly, even
though I knew he was right.

The same thoughts had occurred to me years ago. They had
kept circling in my mind, coming and going at regular intervals. Even Jude had
tried to pinpoint it to me, and I had brushed her off simply because I could
feel just how right she was.

“And yet Clint insists that you get a fraction of your
inheritance,” Chase said coolly. “Do you know why he wants you to have it? As
your lawyer, I can tell you it’s so you won’t be able to contest the terms of
the will later, once you find out your mom wasn’t well. That’s why he wanted a
written agreement. If you simply refused to sign, you would have received
everything. And then there’s another matter.”

“What?” I asked faintly.

“Your grandparents were the actual owners of Waterfront
Shore. Your mom was their heir, followed by you. Your grandfather was still
alive when she died, which is why I think Clint adopted you. She was living
there, yes, but the entire estate never belonged to your mom in the first
place. By adopting you Clint became your legal guardian, meaning he got the
estate through you once your grandfather passed away. Legally speaking, her
testament should never have been implemented because the estate had never been
passed on to her. I think she left that legal loophole open because she knew
something was off about Clint.”

I leaned back, both in shock and realization, my thoughts
racing. “Are you saying my mom wanted me to have the inheritance?” My voice
dripped with disbelief.

“Yes.”

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” I frowned at his words. “I have
every reason to believe that your mom’s letters contain her real thoughts on
the matter.”

His words made my head spin. “How do you know all this?”

He smiled gently. “The law is complex, particularly when
you’re a minor and your legal guardian, the one person who should be looking
out for you, has only his own gain in mind. I don’t believe your mom was as
crazy as Clint made her out to be. I believe she was scared. In fact, so scared
that she put it in writing.”

He hadn’t answered my question.

I shook my head again. My hands were clammy and trembling.
The past I had left behind was catching up with me. I needed to be alone, if
only to figure out my next step.

“The ten minutes are over, Chase,” I said weakly. “Tell the
driver to stop the car.”

“We’ll reach the hotel in a few minutes.”

“I want to leave now!”

Chase grimaced. “Laurie, you don’t even know where you are.”

“That’s not your problem,” I said harsher than intended.
“Stop the car, Chase.”

He sighed, and then he pressed a button. “As you wish.”

Within seconds, the limousine came to a halt. As soon as the
door opened, I jumped out and took off down the street without a glance back.

The streets were cramped, so avoiding people wasn’t easy. I
walked down the busy road with no idea where I was. A few taxis drove by. I
ignored them all. The hotel couldn’t be far away, but I didn’t feel like
locking myself up. I needed the walk to process Chase’s words. Everything
inside my mind was a blur, but if I concentrated hard enough, I could hear my
mom’s voice.

It had been on one of those days where she was lucid enough
to talk and remember she still had a daughter. She’d brought me to my bed, a
soft smile on her pale lips.

“You can never trust a man, baby girl,” my mom whispered.
“Don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t fall in love. Don’t trust them,
because all men are the same. They betray you, hurt you, and take away your
innocence.”

I glanced at her, assured I would always listen to her, the
way I always did, and told her I would always love her—my words those of
a child, trusting, truthful, unconditional.

At that time, I was only seven and had no clue about the
world or love. She pressed me real hard against her chest, telling me how much
she loved me and how often she had thought of running away with me to keep me
safe; that she couldn’t deal with another loss.

Back then, I had no idea what she meant.

But now I wished I had listened; I wished I remembered more,
if only to get a glimpse into the workings of her mind; to see her beautiful
face once more, hear her voice, feel the soft touch of her hand on my cheek.

A stray tear trickled down my face as I forced my legs to
keep moving through the busy streets of Acapulco. Inside me, chaos, pain, and
more chaos roared, the remembrances of my mother and her immediate loss too
heavy to bear.

I missed her. Missed her smell, her smile, her hugs.

In my memories, she was always pale, her face framed by
beautiful dark curls, and her warm brown eyes always smiling. Her fingers were
long and thin—a pianist’s hands as some would say—and she always
smelled clean with a hint of lavender.

Conjuring her picture before my eyes made me think of how unlucky
she was to die so young, how depressed she must have been to jump off the
cliff. Or maybe it wasn’t depression but desperation that drove her to commit
suicide, just like Chase’s dad drove off a cliff because he couldn’t provide
for his family.

When Chase mentioned that my mom had been scared for her
life, I knew that he was right. After all, my mother had locked me inside my
bedroom on a regular basis and sent me away to boarding schools, as if the
Waterfront Shore wasn’t safe. As if she couldn’t risk having me around.

As a child, I had always assumed her fear was all in her
head.

But now?

I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Had Clint hurt her?

The possibility of him hurting her scared me. Still, as much
as I wanted to, I just couldn’t image him being a violent man.

Sneaky and manipulative, yes.

But violent?

He was obsessive compulsive to the point of disliking to
touch things and people. When I grew up, he had made it pretty clear that any
physical proximity was out of the question. The only real hug he ever gave me
was at my mom’s funeral and a few weeks ago, during his first visit in years.

Ahead was a market, the smell of food pungent. Hastening my
steps, I tried not to inhale too deeply out of fear that my nausea would return
with a vengeance. I passed the market and the rough buildings to either side. I
was so engrossed in my past that I only heard the steps behind me when they
were within arm’s reach. I turned quickly, almost expecting Chase.

But it wasn’t him.

A guy in his twenties, dressed in a blue shirt and jeans,
looked down at me.

My heart lurched in my chest.

I stopped to rummage through my bag to grab my phone, ready
to speed-dial someone while I stared straight at his face. I’d read somewhere
that if you ever found yourself followed, the best way to handle the situation
was to get a good look at your pursuer to signal them that you’d remember their
face, and aren’t easy prey.

To my relief, the guy barely looked at me as he walked past,
then turned a corner. My glance followed him as he disappeared around the
corner.

I let out a long breath and leaned against the wall, my
phone pressed tightly against my chest. My breathing slowed down a little, but
my heart didn’t stop hammering.

Why the fuck did I think it was Chase? As if he’d follow
after me when I had made myself clear that I wanted nothing to do with him.

“Stupid,” I muttered and pushed the phone back into my bag.
A glance at my watch showed that I had been walking for an hour.

Where was the frigging hotel?

That’s when I noticed the crowd of five guys heading in my
direction. Worse yet, I caught their curious glances, two of them even checking
me out. Someone made a remark, and they all laughed.

My heart started to pick up in speed again, and my entire
body tensed.

Should I keep on walking or turn around?

I had no idea.

One of them shouted, “Hola bonita.”

I froze to the spot, and my uneasiness turned into panic.
Before I could decide what to do, a hand touched my waist, and I jumped, a
scream lodged in my throat.

I turned and stared right into Chase’s face.

His expression was one of worry, his posture tense. I knew I
should be mad, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but shoot him a
hesitant smile as immense relief washed over me.

He bent forward and for a moment I thought he was going to
kiss me, until his lips brushed my ear.

“Keep on walking,” he whispered. His grip around my waist
tightened just a little bit, but there was nothing sexual about the gesture.

His tension was palpable.

I nodded and resumed my walk, keeping my head low.

The moment we past the crowd I turned to him and hissed,
“Are you following me?”

“Only to ensure your safety.” He didn’t even try to deny it.

“Why do you care?” I asked.

“Believe it or not, I don’t want you to get hurt. And you’re
walking in the wrong direction.” He pointed behind him. “The hotel’s that way.”

Of course I had been walking in the wrong direction. I
groaned inwardly. I should have called a taxi a long time ago.

“Where’s your driver?” I asked and peered around me even
though there was no sight of the limousine.

“I sent him home. Do you want me to call him?”

The thought of spending more time in a confined space made
my heart race—and not exactly in a bad way.

Judging from the slow smirk on his face he knew it.

Why the fuck did I have to ask?

“No. Forget it.” I shielded my eyes against the hot sun and
turned away from him.

“Let me take you home, Laurie,” Chase said softly,
misinterpreting my words. “As soon as you’re inside the lobby, I’ll leave you
alone. I promise.”

I sighed. “It’s not that.” I turned back to regard him. “I’m
actually glad you’re here.”

He frowned. “You are?”

“Believe it or not, I am,” I said, echoing his expression
from earlier. It was true. I was in a foreign country with absolutely no
knowledge of the culture and barely any command of the language.

“Doesn’t mean I forgive you, though. What you did is—”

“Despicable. I know. And I couldn’t agree more.”

“But I’m really glad you’re here. I kind of felt followed.
And—” I wriggled my hands, suddenly unsure why I was telling him all
that.

“By me?” he asked.

“No, by a guy in a blue shirt.”

We reached the market—people spilling in and out,
chatting, carrying bags. I had never seen such a commotion in my entire life. I
wasn’t scared of crowds, but my nerves were frayed.

“Have you been inside?” he asked, pointing toward the
market.

I cocked my head, regarding him amused. “Well, you tell me. You
followed me for a good hour.”

“Did I?” Chase asked. I looked up, surprised at his question.
“I’m afraid I didn’t notice. I was too transfixed.”

And there it was again.

The humor in his voice.

The sparkle in his eyes.

To my absolute disbelief, my heart started to flutter again.

“On what?” My eyes narrowed.

“Want me to be honest?” His eyes moved down my body and
lingered on my ass a bit too long.

My body temperature rose a few degrees and my breathing came
labored.

He had been transfixed by my
ass
?

Oh, God.

“No,” I mumbled. “Don’t say it.”

“In a marriage you shouldn’t have to be hiding things.”

I squealed as he slapped my ass lightly.

“Come on,” Chase said, “I’d kill for an ice cream. Do you
think they sell it inside?”

I glanced at the market and the commotion of people flooding
in and out. “Let’s find out.”

Back in California, I had often visited markets simply
because I loved the atmosphere. This one was the best I had ever seen. It
wasn’t just huge, colorful and bubbly, there was so much to see I didn’t know
where to look first. My gaze jumped from the gorgeous flower bouquets, to the
homemade food, to the handmade pottery, and everything else.

I stopped a stall that sold shirts for only a few pesos. One
read, ‘Be calm and let Acapulco handle it.’

“I should get one for Jude,” I said to Chase, my voice
dripping with excitement, then pointed to a range of key rings. “And one of
those, too.”

He shrugged, seemingly bored by it all. Yeah, guys and
shopping. I laughed, elated at the thought that I was
here
with
him
.

“I’ll try to find us some ice cream while you have a look.”

Before he could disappear through the crowd, I called after
him. “Chase?”

He turned around, the light reflecting in his eyes in a
million facets of blue and gray. “Yeah?”

“Just so we’re clear, this is not a date.”

“I got the memo, and discarded it just as quickly.” He
grinned and then he winked.

I laughed.

Oh, my God. He was the devil.

And then he disappeared, leaving me to check out everything.
My credit cards were maxed out, but I figured, so what?

You didn’t go to Acapulco and came back with nothing?

Almost giggling with excitement, I bought three shirts: one
for Jude, and two for me because they were a bargain. And then I decided that I
had to get one for Chase, too.

Flicking through the clothes hangers, I settled on one that
read ‘Walking Danger’ which sort of described him down to a T.

It was so perfect for him, I couldn’t wait to show it to
him.

I let out a giggle as I paid for it, then grabbed my
shopping bags and headed through the crowd in search for Chase.

I found him standing in line in front of a stall. I had
almost reached him when someone blocked my way. It was the same guy who had
followed me. Maybe he hadn’t followed me per se, but I had spotted him on the
street outside. Up close, he didn’t look older than eighteen.

He spoke so fast I couldn’t follow.

I smiled apologetically. “Sorry. No hablo espanol.”

“No hay problema.” He returned the smile, then opened his
bag, and my heart stopped as I peered inside at the various bags of weed, pills
and other drugs.

Holy shit.

He was a drug dealer.

“No, thank you.” I shook my head, making sure to smile
politely. But somehow, he didn’t seem to understand. Instead leaving, he
reached inside and retrieved a tiny plastic bag containing a single pill.

“Regalo.” He stretched out his hand.

Oh, god.

I shook my head more resolutely. “No, thank you.”

The guy grabbed my hand and squeezed the bag inside my palm,
muttering a few more words in Spanish. I shook my head. Before I could protest,
I glimpsed over his shoulder and caught Chase storming for us, his face a mask
of anger.

My entire body tensed.

I tried to step back, but it was too late.

Chase shoved him. “Get the fuck away from her.” And then he
did the unthinkable: he shoved him again, this time way harder, before I could
tell him to stop.

The guy’s friendliness was wiped off his face instantly. I
stared helplessly as Chase turned to me, asking, “Are you okay, Laurie? Was he
bothering you?”

Before I could react, the guy’s fist connected with Chase’s
jaw, the impact so hard I could have sworn I heard bones cracking.

Chase’s body lurched forward, his hands going to his lip as
blood started to pour between his fingers and drip down his chin. I rushed
forward just as the guy took off through the crowd.

“Oh, god. Chase.” I dropped my bags and began to rummage
through my handbag in search for a tissue.

“I know I shouldn’t have interfered,” he muttered and wiped
a hand over his mouth.

Horrified, I peered at the red stains on his shirt.

“No, you shouldn’t have. It was plain stupid. You’re lucky
the guy didn’t pull out a gun.”

While Chase pressed the tissue against his mouth to stop the
bleeding, I quickly scrolled through my contact list to find the most recent
number I had saved: Kade.

“What are you doing?” Chase asked warily.

“I’m calling your brother.”

He placed his hand on the screen, blocking my view. “Don’t.”

The command came forceful.

I frowned. “Why not? You’re bleeding.” I stared at his split
lip and winced. The bit of pressure did nothing to stop the blood flow. “Quite
heavily, I might add, and you clearly need medical assistance Besides, I can’t
drag you all the way to the hotel all by myself.”

“It’s nothing.” He swatted his hand, as though we were
talking about an annoying fly. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

I stared at him, having my doubts. His upper lip, now
swollen, looked horrific. His nose didn’t look swollen, but there was blood. I
hoped it wasn’t broken. “We should get you a mirror, because in all honesty, it
looks like you need stitches.”