Spin (The Indigo Lounge Series) (9 page)

I melt with shameless predictability. God, how much do I fucking love this man?

“Would you like that, Peaches?” he croons in my ear.

“Yes, please.”

The passenger side of his chopper guarantees us complete privacy. So when he nudges my thighs, I gladly open for him.

By the time we land on the grounds of the country club one mile from my childhood home, my disposition is remarkably sunnier.

***

“Y
ou’re crying. Should I be concerned?”

“I...what?” I look up from my ring finger and meet Zach’s disturbed gaze. His words sink in and I touch my cheeks. “Oh, I didn’t...I shouldn’t...”

“You’re not making sense, baby.”

The breath I inhale is extremely shaky with the powerful emotions plowing through me. “My ring...it’s so beautiful, Zach.” I loved my engagement ring from the moment I saw it, but my wedding ring is the ultimate unshakeable symbol that I’m about to commit my life to the man of my dreams. Its beauty overwhelms me.

“So those are happy tears?”

“They’re
ecstatic
tears.” I look up from the simple platinum double band bracketing a row of sixteen princess cut diamonds. “Are you happy with yours?”

“Of course.” He pats the inner pocket of his leather jacket where his black opal and platinum band resides.

We agreed to keep the rings separate because we each have secret inscriptions we plan to recite as part of our wedding vows. He smiles and waits patiently while I wriggle my fingers repeatedly and admire the ring. When the jeweler begins to fidget politely, I reluctantly tug my ring off and hand it over. He leaves us alone in the private room, and Zach tugs me to my feet and slides his arms around my waist.

“I love seeing you happy.”

“I love that you love that.”

He laughs and kisses me. Predictably, it immediately threatens to become x-rated, and we spring apart when the elderly jeweler walks back in. I take the small box he hands me and Zach hands over his black card.

Once we’re done, he takes my hand and we walk outside. Scarsdale looks gorgeous in the spring sunshine. I look up at him. “We have a little time before we head home for lunch. Can we walk for a bit?”

He gives me another of those killer smiles and kisses the back of my hand. “If you want.”

I don’t get to spend time with him like this in New York, and I treasure the rare and beautiful pocket of time as we walk the streets. We end up at the park I used to play in as a kid.

Two kids—a boy of about six and his younger sister—scream past on their way to the playground. Zach stares after them for a moment, then sends me a quizzical look.

“What?” I ask.

“We haven’t really talked about kids.”

“Except your intention to put them in my belly one day.”

He grins. “Indeed. Do you have a time frame for when you want that to happen?”

My heart lurches for a wild few seconds and my steps slow. We stop on the edge of a sandpit. He catches me in the circle of his arms and waits with uncharacteristic patience as I try to find the words.

“I want to say soon, but I also want it to be just the two of us for a while. Does that make sense?”

“It makes sense. We’re both insanely jealous of the time when we can’t be together. I only have a blank template to work from, but even I know being a parent requires one hundred per cent commitment. Just say the word when you’re ready, and I’ll get to work.”

I lay my hand against his cheek, my heart filled to overflowing. “You’ll make a great father. You’re too competitive not to want to win all the brownie points in the fatherhood stakes.”

Although he laughs, I see the pain from a fatherless childhood lingering in his eyes. “Brownie points are great, but your happiness is what’s most important to me.”

My tears threaten to resurge. “I can’t wait to be your wife, Zach.”

“And I can’t wait to
Savage
you.”

My laughter draws an audience, which I note contains more than one interested pair of female eyes aimed at my man. By mutual consent we head out of the park. Philip is waiting with the SUV and we pile into the back.

Lunch is an easy, laughter-filled affair. The first time I brought Zach to my childhood home on Murray Hill, I was nervous. Our Tudor house sits on a great plot in a nice neighborhood, but it’s a million miles from what Zach is used to.

He barely blinked at the homey surroundings, his complete focus that day on overcoming my father’s cool reception to his presence in my life.

When Zach’s phone rings as we’re clearing the table, he shoots me a look that makes my heart dip. “Sorry, it’s Mason. I need to take this.”

He kisses my temple on the way out the French doors that lead to the terrace. The mid-afternoon sun bounces off the pool and bathes his face and body in jaw-dropping relief as he paces.

“You’re not too young for me ground you for making eyes at boys, you know,” my father drawls as he walks past and tugs at my ponytail.

My giggle earns me a glance from Zach, and I blow him a kiss before I resume clearing the table. He catches up with me as I’m loading the dishwasher.

“Bethany, I have to go.”

I frown my disappointment. “But you weren’t supposed to leave for another hour. You heading back to New York?”

“I need to make a quick stop in Connecticut.” He pockets his phone and slides his fingers into my hair. “I’m sorry for leaving like that it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I mock-glare at him. “You better.”

“Everything okay?” Mom asks as she walks into the room.

Zach’s smile holds equal amounts of contrition and charm. “I just need to head out a little earlier, Felicity. I’m sorry to cut the visit short.”

Mom waves him off with a smile. “It’s okay. It’ll give me more time to spend with my girl.”

“Give her a little extra TLC from me. She’s still hung-over from her wild night.”

“Zach!” I slap his chest, and he laughs before he lets me go. He says his goodbyes and I walk him outside.

Our kiss is long and lingering, and when he steps back and opens the back door, I have to fold my arms to stop myself from doing something insane, like diving after him and begging him to take me with him. I’m pathetic in my addiction to this man, and I stare at the back of the SUV till it disappears.

As I turn to go back in, I sense movement in the upstairs window of our neighbor’s house. Wanda and Leslie Davidson spend the cooler months of the year cruising the Caribbean, so I wonder if they have sitters taking care of the house.

I ask my mother as much when we relax on the terrace after dinner.

She shakes her head. “Wanda would’ve told me if they had sitters. I know there’s a maid service that comes in once a week to keep the place tidy incase Dillon comes home.”

At the mention of his name, ice shackles my chest.

Dillon Davidson, the boy who tried to drown me twelve years ago. The shiver that courses through me angers me a little. After all this time, I hate that I can’t think of what happened without experiencing the fear. Besides the power I don’t want to grant that moment, it’s causing friction between Zach and I.

“Did you two ever keep in touch?” Dad asks.

I cradle my hot cocoa in my palms, and struggle to keep my face and voice neutral. “No. I didn’t really see much of him after he switched schools in senior high.”

Dad nods and takes a swig of his beer. “He works on an oil rig now, I hear. Somewhere in Alaska.”

A bubble of relief bursts free, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. “Right.”

“Shame Wanda and Les can’t be at the wedding, but I guess it was always a long shot,” Mom says.

“I guess,” I reply.

My father eyes me. “You okay, sweetie?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” I summon a smile, and he cocks on eyebrow at me for a brief moment before he nods. I drain my mug and stand. “I think I’ll head to bed now.”

Mom blinks at me. “It’s only eight-thirty. Just how late were you out last night?”

I resist the urge to point out that I’m twenty-six and kiss my mother’s cheek. “It’s been a long week, Mom. And that cocoa’s done me in.”

“Oh, okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Mom. Goodnight, Dad.” I kiss the top of his head, and he rumbles a response.

In my old room, I change into one of Zach’s T-shirts. His scent lingers in the cotton and I breathe in deep. Feeling a little settled, I brush my teeth and get into bed. I check my phone but there are no messages. I resist the idea of texting him. If he’s at his business dinner, he’ll need to excuse himself to text me back. As much as I know I have the power to command his attention, I choose to be less needy on this occasion. I pull the covers up to my chin, bask in the warmth of being home, and let myself drift off to sleep.

I’m not sure what wakes me. I yawn and check my phone. It’s 12:53 a.m. and there’s no message from Zach. I worry my lip, toss and turn for another ten minutes before I unlock my phone.

Hey, you still at dinner?

No. Just finished. Deal closed. Croatians are on board.

You’re a rock star. I miss you.

Miss you more. Which is why I’m heading back to you.

My breath catches with pure joy.

Really?

Really. Headed to the penthouse now to go board the chopper. Be there in 40 minutes. Will you sneak me into your bedroom?

I giggle.

I’m not allowed to have boys in my room.

I’m not a boy.

Sexy grey-eyed men with beautiful cocks, then.

One man. Your man. Who needs you desperately.

Fine. You win. As long as you promise to be quiet.

I
can be quiet. But I suggest you use the time before I arrive to find an appropriate gag for yourself. I’ll see you soon. Z x

I only stop smiling when it threatens to rip my face in two. We passed the awkward sex-under-parents’-roof last Christmas when Zach and I spent the holidays here, but I feel a little cringe-y about fucking him in ear shot of my parents. Not enough to deny myself, though.

Wide awake and growing hot with anticipation with every minute that goes by, I leave my bedroom and head downstairs. A couple of lamps have been left on and I pad through old, familiar rooms to the back of the house.

In the moonlight, the pool gleams invitingly. I remember my earlier fear and anger, and a part of me is ashamed all over again. I may have attempted to get past what happened to me, but in letting myself sit on that plateau, I’m taking the coward’s way out. I’m not worse, but I’m far from better.

Resolutely, I open the door and step onto the terrace. Motion sensor lights bathe the area around the azure colored tiles. The outer edges of the pool are decorated with slate slabs, and a shallow water feature forms part of the architecture. As a kid, this part of the garden was my personal water kingdom. I feel a deep sense of loss at abandoning it for so long.

Clenching my jaw, I pull the T-shirt over my head and toss it onto the lounger, leaving just my cotton panties on. Before my nerves desert me, I hurry to the edge of the pool and look down into it. It’s not a particularly deep pool, only five feet at the deepest end. I take the first step down and my breath locks in my throat.

Every instinct screams at me to step back, return to safety. But I ignore it and take another step. Then another.

When the water reaches my waist, I battle my anxiety levels. Several deep breaths and the fear begins to recede. I trail my fingers over the cool water, then laugh when I realize I’m not frozen with terror.

I wade around, and after several minutes, I begin to enjoy the feel of the water against my skin, and the familiar sound of the water feature tinkling in the background. I laugh a little as I relax, and imagine Zach’s face when he finds me here. His faith that I could overcome my fears is partly responsible for this. But I have to keep pushing through the demons on my own.

I can do this.

I can
—

“Bethany Green. I thought that was you.”

My arms slap across my chest and I whirl with a jagged yelp to see a man standing at the edge of the pool. He’s taller than the last time I saw him. Much thicker all round. But...oh God...it’s him. I stagger backward and nearly lose my footing.

“D—Dillon?”

He’s wearing board shorts and a wife-beater T-shirt. But it’s his bare feet, the reason I hadn’t heard him, which disturbs me most.

“You remember me. I’m honored.”

“How did you get in here?”

He jerks his head to the side of the house, where a gate interconnects our respective properties. “Your parents haven’t changed the gate code.”

His gaze drags over me, lingers at my chest and the arms I’ve folded tight over my breasts. “Well...I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you need to leave right now,” I inject firmness into my voice but my insides are quaking.

“Why? It’s been ages, Beth. You don’t want to catch up?”

“Not in the middle of the night.” I cast a desperate glance at the terrace where I dropped my T-shirt.

“Why not? We’re both up.” He steps forward and dips a toe in the pool. “I could join you—”

“No! Seriously, you need to leave. Now. If you want to catch up, come back in the morning.”

A nasty expression crawls over his face. “You always thought you were too good for me, didn’t you? What, you only put out for rich dudes now?”

“Excuse me?”

“I saw you making out with that guy out front earlier. Heck, I thought you two were about to do each other right there on the lawn.”

“
That guy
is my fiancé. And he’ll be here any minute.”

His mouth twists. “Sure he will.”

“It’s true.” My voice quivers as I try to work out how long I’ve been in the pool. Five minutes? Fifteen? Would Zach have landed by now? What if traffic delayed him on the way to the penthouse?

Dillon shrugs. “
If
he gets here, he can join us.” He reefs the wife-beater over his head. The moment he starts to lower himself into the pool, I make a mad dash for the side.

But fear and the water slows my momentum. He lunges and grabs my leg before I can climb out. I hit the water with a loud splash and start to panic the moment the water closes over my head. My flailing allows him time to secure me properly. When I come up for air, I’m plastered against his body.