Sweet Texas Fire (22 page)

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Authors: Nicole Flockton

BOOK: Sweet Texas Fire
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God, when did it matter where the damn cat was? The animal wasn’t her responsibility. She tossed her keys into the bowl on the hallway table and dumped her laptop bag underneath the same table.

She released her hair from its businesslike bun. Her fingers massaged her sore scalp where the pins had begun to dig into it. Gage hadn’t told her he wouldn’t be home, but then again she hadn’t waited for him to collect her from the office like she normally did.

What a mess the day had been—a day she’d rather forget.

She walked into the master suite, slipped off her shoes, and tossed her handbag onto the bed. It would be so easy just to crawl under the covers and forget the whole day had ever happened.

But what she needed to do was get their marriage certificate before she forgot. Her office wanted a copy of it for their records, but she had no idea where it was. She assumed it would be in Gage’s study.

Leaving the master bedroom, she walked down the hall to Gage’s office. She had only been in this room a few times, once to distract Gage while he worked late at night. Even while still annoyed at him, she couldn’t stop the smile, when memories of what they’d gotten up to in the room filled her mind. They certainly didn’t have any issues when it came to sex.

Flicking on the light, she wandered over to the desk and sat in his chair. Now, where would their marriage certificate most likely be? She started with the desk drawers but she came up empty handed. Next, she pulled the tray that had a neat stack of papers in it toward her.

She picked up the first piece of paper and scanned it.

No, it couldn’t be. Could it? He wouldn’t do that to her—surely. She reread the subject line and the body of the e-mail.

Survey Report: 12332 Pine Ramble Drive, Sweet Ridge, TX

Dear Gage,

Thanks for the opportunity to provide you with a survey report of the abovementioned property.

At your request, we conducted a preliminary survey of the land and surrounding areas. Attached is the report of our findings.

If you have any questions with regard to the report, please do not hesitate to contact us.

Yours sincerely,

Bubba Fredricks

The son of a bitch. He’d let her talk night after night about what she’d do to the house, the renovations she’d make in the future. He’d even made his own suggestions about what they could do to the house. He had her believing he actually cared about the land.

And it was all a game to suck her into thinking he gave a damn, that her ideas mattered. His word was worth nothing when stacked against the almighty dollar he could make from the oil. She couldn’t believe Gage had gone back on his promise to her.

Where was the report? She knew Gage had to have printed it out. There was no way he wouldn’t have. She knew how much that piece of land meant to him. The evidence of the e-mail in her hand was proof of how much he wanted what lay beneath the surface of sand and rocks.

She picked up a stack of papers from the pile in the tray and flipped through the neatly stapled groups. Sure enough, there was the report. Putting the rest of the papers back into the tray, she started to read the document.

As she scanned the report, she was stunned when she read exactly what had been found on her land—a huge oil pocket that would prove very profitable for Gage. Pity he would never get his hands on the land now. They had no written agreement about her selling it to him. And right now she didn’t even care about her green card.

She’d trusted Gage. She’d fallen in love with him. She’d started to think he was beginning to care for her, as well. He had betrayed her. All his touches and caring words had been an act. Just like today in front of the immigration official—he
did
deserve an Academy Award, because he’d had her convinced they could have a future together.

Charlotte sat back in the chair and considered her options. She had a job, albeit a temporary one. Once her contract ended, she would go back to Australia and find another job. There was no point in thinking her future was in Houston and Sweet Ridge. She couldn’t decide what to do with the land right now. That could wait—it wasn’t going anywhere.

But she was. She couldn’t stay in this condo anymore. She could go back to her old apartment. The company had paid for the lease for the length of her stay. But she didn’t want to go back there, either. That would probably be the first place Gage would look for her.

She had to make a decision—and quickly. Gage could walk through the door at any minute, and she didn’t want to be here when he arrived home. She would pack a bag and just go to a hotel for a few nights. Once Gage worked out that whatever they’d had together was finished, she’d move back to her apartment. In all likelihood, the thought of not getting the oil he so coveted would be more upsetting than her leaving him.

Decision made, she reached for a blank piece of paper and wrote a note. She placed it in the middle of his desk. Right on top of the report. There was no way he could miss it.

CHAPTER 24

Gage was flying high as he rode the elevator to his condo. The cat followed. Who knew Oil Slick would be the key to finalizing one of the biggest deals his company had negotiated? With this new deal and the prospect of mining Dad’s land, his company would be able to ride out the next slump in the oil industry. Hopefully by the time he’d got the various permits required, civil work contracts negotiated and set up drilling contractors the price of oil would’ve stabilized.

He couldn’t wait to celebrate this new deal with Charlotte and talk to her about the survey report he’d received. He knew he would need to do some smooth talking, as he’d promised he wouldn’t survey the land until after their marriage was over. But what woman wouldn’t be happy with the prospect of becoming very wealthy—and that’s what mining the land would give to Charlotte. She’d not only have her green card, but she’d have more money than she would be able to spend in her lifetime. Money might not seem important to her now. But when she saw her bank account with all those zeroes, she wouldn’t be able to resist the new lifestyle it would give her.

“We’ve got this, Oil Slick,” he murmured to the cat while opening his front door. Then he called out, “Red? I’m home. Sorry I’m late.”

He stopped two feet in the door. The apartment was dark. Like it had been when he lived by himself. Since Charlotte had moved in, she always had on nearly all the lights in the place. He knew he was late, but not so late that she wouldn’t already be home from work.

A ball of dread began to grow inside of him. Had something happened to her? With quick, efficient movements he set Oil Slick free and then reached for his phone. No missed calls. No waiting text messages. And no unread e-mails from Charlotte.

Where could she be?

Gage pulled up his “favorites” in his contact list and hit Charlotte’s name. Her phone immediately went to voice mail.

“Hey, Red, it’s me. I’m home and you’re not here. Are you okay? Call me when you get this message. I’ve got some great news.”

He clicked off and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Gage hadn’t contacted her during the day, because he had to admit, he had still been a bit annoyed about their argument after they’d left the lawyer’s office. It had been a stupid fight, and he still didn’t even know how it started. He should’ve chased after her instead of letting her walk away from him in anger.

But he didn’t want to let her know he was falling for her. He’d answered the questions in the lawyer’s office honestly. There was no acting or lying on his part. He loved knowing that he would come home and find her here, waiting for him. Or that she’d meet him downstairs at her own work office, and they’d go home together. He liked sharing his day with her. The fact that she worked in the same industry as him was more than he could ask for. They understood each other all the more because of that.

Gage started his search for Charlotte in their bedroom. He chuckled softly—since when had his master bedroom become ‘their bedroom’? The answer was easy—the moment she moved in.

Empty.

He headed down the hallway to check out the spare room.

Empty.

He walked through the apartment. There was no sign of her. For some reason she wasn’t home. The ball of dread grew even bigger.

The last room he went into was his study. On occasion she’d curl up in a chair with a book while he dealt with e-mails. He didn’t expect her to be there, but he’d check it out anyway.

The moment he walked in, he knew Charlotte had been in the room. His desk was normally clear of papers. But tonight, sitting in the middle of the shiny wood was a piece of paper. The cat brushed up against his leg as he stood looking at the top of his desk. He didn’t know why he was reluctant to go and pick it up. Everything in him told him who wrote the note. And it wasn’t from his housekeeper, who’d been there earlier.

“Damn it, cat.” He stooped and picked up the creature before she used his leg as a scratching post again. Gage went over to his desk and picked up the paper.

Gage,

I’m leaving you. I don’t appreciate being lied to, and the report I found on your desk shows me just how much that piece of land means to you. Maybe Jack knew something when he left it to me instead of you. I can’t believe you went behind my back and arranged a survey of the land. You broke your promise. How many more will you break?

Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I will be going back to Australia when my work contract ends. I have no reason to get a green card now. I can’t stay married to a man who lies to me. And I can’t pretend for the next two years just to get a piece of paper.

I hope the report keeps you warm at night, because that’s the closest you’re going to get to the oil you so covet. I will never sell the land to you now.

Charlotte

He reread the note a dozen times. Each time the hurt in her words stabbed deeper inside of him.

“I fucked up big-time, Oil Slick.”

The cat jumped off his lap and stalked away, as if disgusted with what he’d done, as well.

He couldn’t blame Charlotte for feeling like she’d been played. He hadn’t been thinking about anyone but himself when he went ahead and ordered the report. He
knew
he was going back on his word, and yet he still did it. Even as he walked through the door tonight, he’d thought he could sweet-talk her into forgiving him.

He’d disappointed yet another person in his life. Maybe Grayson was right when he’d accused him of still doing things without thinking of the consequences. This time it was Charlotte he’d disappointed, the one person who meant as much to him as his dad had meant. How could he have done that to her?

If the tables had been turned and she’d betrayed him like this, he’d be steaming mad, too. He had to find her and apologize. He didn’t know how to make it up to her, but he would.

He knew exactly where she’d be. Before the night was over, she’d be back in this house where she belonged.

• • •

Three hours later Gage walked through his front door again, dejected and frustrated. He’d driven to her apartment and knocked on her door. When he got no response, he went down and waited in the foyer. But the longer he waited, the more obvious it became she wasn’t returning there.

Calling the hotels in the vicinity of his condo, her old apartment, and her office wasn’t a feasible option. There were too many of them. And he doubted any hotel would divulge guest information, no matter how sweetly he asked.

The next option would be to go to Gold Star Eco tomorrow and see her there. He would insist on taking her out to lunch so they could talk in private without everyone in her office overhearing their conversation.

The silence of the apartment closed in on him. It hadn’t bothered him before, but tonight he missed Charlotte. He missed her quiet presence beside him, missed her joking with him over dinner. He even missed her scolding Oil Slick for scratching at the couch. He just plain missed her.

The box of letters still sat in the middle of the coffee table, the gold key sticking out of the lock. What happiness had he found since he’d discovered the letters? He hadn’t found any happiness in reading them, but he hadn’t read them all. Maybe it was time to man up. Perhaps something in his father’s words would help him to work out how to apologize to Charlotte.

He reached out and grabbed the box, placing it on the couch next to him. Unlocking it, he lifted the lid and pulled out the small bundle. He placed the ones he’d already read back in the box. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the next one in the pile.

An hour later he picked up the last letter, his heart heavy. Through the letters he’d discovered that Dad and Nora’s relationship had started to fall apart. Although with no dates to go by, Gage had no idea how whether their relationship lasted for two years or six months. She’d stopped responding to his letters. But Jack had kept writing, holding out hope that she would respond. His father hadn’t elaborated on what he’d done wrong, and it frustrated Gage. Then again, why would Dad write about what he’d done wrong to the woman who already knew?

This final letter was a couple of pages long, longer than any letter either one of them had written to each other.

My darling, sweet Nora,

My heart is broken, and I don’t think it will ever be fully healed. Finding all the letters I’d written to you when I went to check the box today … well, all I can say is I fell to my knees and cried. You will probably never read this one last letter because I have the box with me, but I have to write it. Closure, it could be called perhaps. I don’t know.

The fact that you hadn’t burned the letters I sent you gave me a little bit of hope that you might forgive me, but I saw you leave town today. I don’t know how long you’re going for. You may already be back, or you may never return. Seeing you in that car, laughing with someone other than me as it drove away, told me all I needed to know. You haven’t laughed like that with me for a while.

I will never love another like I love you, Nora. You are the one who makes my world whole. I could spend the rest of my life a bachelor, or I may find another woman to care for. But I won’t love her as much as I love you. I can’t when I’ve had a love so fulfilling as the one I shared with you. I know my love for you will never die. It will always be an ache inside of me. I admit that I’m vain enough to want children, someone to pass my legacy on to. I wish we could’ve had them together. You would make a wonderful mother.

I’m sorry that I got so caught up with the future I envisioned for us that I forgot to include you, to ask if you shared the same dream. It will always be my biggest regret. I wish you would’ve given me a chance to explain. I don’t know why you didn’t. I’d have slowed down in my planning—all you had to do was ask. Or maybe I should’ve known you were scared. I know I also got caught up in making a success of my business. Again, I was working so hard for us—for you. It was all for you. I will never live in the house I purchased for us. It would hurt too much to spend any time there. But I can’t part with it, either. Call me stupid or sentimental, but I’ll keep it and hope and pray that one day you’ll come back to me. If not, then I know I will find someone who will love and appreciate it as much as I do. That house connects me to you.

I wish I could change things. But I can’t and I must live with my actions. I must live with the knowledge that it was through my hand, my selfishness to prove to you that I can give you everything you want, that I destroyed what was given freely to me: Your love. Your light. Your smile. Just know that I hope one day I will be able to give you this letter and show you that nothing is more important to me than you and your happiness.

I love you, Nora, for all eternity.

Your Jack

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