The Singles (30 page)

Didn’t he realize that it had been the same for me? That nearly every time I closed my eyes, I saw the heartbreak that wrecked his features the night he confronted me about who I was.

“Yeah, well ... I know how that feels,” I said at last.

“Tell me something.” His hand clenched on my back. There was something about his touch tonight—something that summed up every bit of longing going through me—and fists rammed against my ribcage.

“Yes?”

“How long were you planning to keep up this charade?”

When I didn’t reply, his hand moved from my back, finding my face. His knuckles stroked my high cheekbone. "Not going to answer me?” I shook my head, and he said, “All I can think about is ripping this dress right down the middle."

Even though I knew he was probably telling me that to get a rise out of me, a visible shiver coursed my body, spreading like wildfire.

Dear God, I needed an intervention because all he had to do was murmur a few words and I was ready to tear the dress off for him. Pleased to have elicited the response from me he wanted, Oliver said, "But since that’s not possible and since you’re being evasive, right now I’ll just hold you.”

“And tomorrow?”

His fingers moved from my chin, to the column of my throat, and finally to my collarbone. His touch was fire and ice on my skin—a bittersweet echo that pulsed through my body—and I fluttered my lashes together.

“If you’re not going to answer me, why would I tell you?”

“Asshole,” I whispered.

Although my eyes were still closed, I felt his heavy sigh. It rumbled against my chest, through my body, and I wanted to melt into this man. Wanted to wrap myself around him, and feel him everywhere—beneath my fingertips, on my tongue, inside my body.

But most importantly, I wanted the man himself.

And because of that, because I knew what he was expecting from me the next day, when the song ended thirty seconds later, I left the courtyard.

*

“M
argaret’s looking for you,” Oliver informed me ten minutes later, and the manila folder I was gripping fell from my hands. Closing the office door behind him, he locked it. “Don’t worry, she won’t come up here because she assumes you’re gone, but I figured this might be where I’d find you.”

Trembling, I grabbed the folder from the floor and snapped it shut. Not only had found nothing that might help me solve the last few pieces of the puzzle, the man I’d let down so horribly had discovered me in yet another compromising position. His eyes studied me carefully as I returned the folder to its rightful spot, and I slammed the drawer shut.

Standing upright, I came around to the side of the desk. “I can’t imagine the awful things you must be thinking about me,” I said, my movements jerky as I threw my phone inside the blue satin clutch that matched my dress. He glanced at my gloved hands and then to my face. “But I’m
not
a bad person.”

Your mother is.

He paced the office, trailing his fingertips along the various white furnishings. “You said you never took a penny from Margaret.”

“I didn’t. After my mom died when I was sixteen, I came to Los Angeles to ask Margaret for help. I came here stupidly thinking she’d take me in, and we’d be this big happy family.”

“And what happened when you arrived?”

“She sent Michael Scott to meet with me. She sent him to tell me that my father’s will was solid and that I didn’t have the power to contest it. He offered me a settlement—I don’t know how much it was for—but I didn’t take it.”

Gripping the edges of the desk, I let out a rough noise. “Pride can be a vicious, vicious thing.”

“Yes it can.” Focusing on the wall of bookshelves at the left of the room, one corner of his mouth moved in a grim smile. “But what I want to know is what changed for you? What made you decide to come here pretending to be someone else to get close to my mother if you’re not after money.”

Supporting my weight against the desk, I glared at the floor and shook my head. “I can’t do this,” I whispered, and I heard him move closer to me. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” I could nearly taste the scotch when he moved his face inches from mine. As he got rid of what little space was left between our bodies, he held my face between his hands. “I want to hear what changed for you.”

I dragged a breath through my nose and replayed the call that had started this mess in my mind. I rehashed every truth—every disappointment—I’d faced since that call. And I broke.

“Six months ago I received a call from a man who told me I didn’t know everything about my father—that there was more to his death than I thought I knew. He didn’t block his number, so I called him back. The call came from Emerson & Taylor headquarters.”

“Someone at the company called and told you that shit?” Oliver demanded, and I moved my head slowly. “Do you know who it was?”

“No. I wish to God I did, but I have no clue. All I know is I couldn’t sleep after that call. I couldn’t think clearly, or do my job, and I had to know if what he said was true.” At his blank expression, I let out a strangled cry. “I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, but it was important to me!”

“I never said it didn’t make sense to me,” he growled against my mouth. “So after that call, you came up with this elaborate hoax?”

“Yes.” Ashamed, I squeezed my eyes closed. Saline stung the back of my eyelids, and I prayed the deluge wouldn’t spill over. “A friend helped me come up with Lizzie and the rest...”

“And did you find anything?” When I didn’t immediately respond, he tilted my face back, and I felt tears trickle from the corners of my eyes. He brushed his thumbs over the dampness. “You came all this way looking for answers. Did you find them?”

“Yes.” My shoulders drooped, and I sagged my body forward, letting him hold me. “We figured out that Margaret and Michael Scott forged my father’s will. My father left everything to me, and they took it all.”

A harsh noise leapt from the back of his throat, and I opened my eyes just as he dropped his hands from my face and staggered back. He dragged his palm over his mouth. “Do you have proof of that?”

“I have the original will and the forgery. I have proof your mother has been doing every shady thing under the sun at that company.” And then, I found myself telling him everything from the beginning, leaving out nothing but Pen’s involvement and our suspicions about his ex-girlfriend.

When I finished, the muscles in his neck were tight as he brought me to him again. “And you haven’t gone to the police? Gemma, this is dangerous stuff.” His heartbeat thudded through his suit jacket, pounding my chest.

“I wanted to make sure I had everything,” I whispered brokenly. “Are you happy now?”

He shook his head, his light brown hair falling into my face. “Hell no. You just told me my mother fucked over a child. How could that ever make me happy?”

I ran what he just said through my head and forced myself to breathe. “You have everything you wanted from me, so what are you going to do now?” I gripped my hands in the black fabric of his jacket. “Are you going to tell Margaret before I get the chance to finish what I started?”

“I’ve felt things for you that no other woman has ever made me feel. I’ve wanted things from you I’ve never wanted from another person. I’m pissed, but don’t think for a second I’m going to turn my back on you and feed you to the wolves.”

“Then, what are—”

Covering my mouth with his, he molded me against him. “I’m going to kiss you,” he said between hot kisses. “I’m going to be selfish and kiss you because it’s the only goddamn thing that makes sense to me right now.”

Dizzy when he drew away, I dragged him back to me. “Touch me,” I said. Because I didn’t know what would happen between us tomorrow or the next day. I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance to feel him like this again.

“Here?” he rasped against my throat, and I nodded.

I shivered as his hands skimmed my hips, arching my back when his fingers found the hem of my dress. Burrowing his face to my neck, he inhaled my scent—the perfume that drove him crazy.

He shoved the blue and white dress up around my mid-section. “I can’t say no to you.”

“Don’t. Just ... touch me.”

He leaned me against the desk and dipped his fingers beneath the lace of my panties. Dragging them down slowly, he stopped a few times to kiss the insides of my thighs and various spots on my legs. On his knees in front of me, he touched his mouth to my hipbones, and I sucked in a harsh gasp.

“Ticklish, Gemma?” he asked, and all I could do was nod.

He’d called me Gemma.

Still holding my breath, I reached out to grasp his hair, but he grabbed my hand. Kissing the inside of my wrist, he ripped my glove off and then did the same with the other hand, stuffing both gloves deep in his pockets.

“Now,” he rasped and parted my legs to tongue my clit. When I whimpered, he lazily finished, “
Now
you can touch me however you want, beautiful.”

Sifting my fingers through the soft brown locks, I tugged until he came to his feet and took possession of my mouth greedily. Our hands were all over the place, and a few seconds after I heard his zipper open, he picked me up.

“How do you want me?” I whispered.

He rubbed the head of his erection against my pussy and licked the corners of my mouth. “Slowly,” he drawled, and I tightened my legs around his waist.

“Slowly?” I panted.

“You heard me the first time, Gemma.” He eased himself inside me just a fraction before giving me a sexy grin. “Very,
very
slowly.”

For what seemed like an eternity, he teased me like this, gradually entering my sex—drawing the moment out until it was agonizing. Finally, I let out a frustrated noise and bucked my hips until his cock filled me.

I sighed with pleasure, and he chuckled into the crook of my neck. “I love your impatience. Love the way—”

I brought his lips to mine to silence him.

Then, with the noise of the party that was taking place in the courtyard fading into the background, and the sound of him breathing me in, he kept his word, taking me slowly. And I realized just how hard I had fallen for Oliver Manning.

*

M
y tryst with Oliver was still in the front of my mind during work the following day, but if I expected my stepmother to mention the dance her son and I had shared in her courtyard, she surprised me by giving me my usual lists of tasks before waving me off.

She’d done a complete one-eighty overnight, and it played with my head almost as much as everything else she was up to.

Focusing on Margaret’s sudden lack of interest as I drove home from work, I was still deep in thought when I entered my apartment building, so I didn’t realize someone was waiting by my door until I nearly ran over him.

“You’re all over the place, Gem,” a familiar male voice teased, and I stared up in relief at Linc Connelly’s out-of-control beard and wide smile. “Pen told you I was coming this weekend, didn’t she?”

“She did, but I didn’t realize you were already here.” Still, I was ecstatic to see him. With Oliver’s promise to keep my identity to himself and Linc being in town, I was hopeful for the first time in days. “You don’t know how relieved I am to see you.”

He leaned his shoulder to the wall. “Apparently my sister isn’t as enthusiastic about me being in Los Angeles. She was supposed to be here when I showed up, but she’s not answering her texts. Good thing I stuck around a few minutes—I’m exhausted.”

Thinking about all the legwork Pen had done for me the last several weeks, I bit the inside of my lip. “She’s been busy,” I explained as I jiggled my key in the lock. “Stop giving her such a hard time.”

“I’ll stop giving her a hard time when she does the same for me.”

Opening the apartment door, I gave Linc a dark look as I motioned him inside. I kicked off my heels and gestured toward the living room. “Make yourself at home. When Pen comes in ... there are a few things we need to talk about.”

I started to leave the foyer, but he grabbed my arm. “Is everything okay?” Before I could say anything, his phone buzzed, and he lifted a finger. “Hold that thought.”

“Five bucks it’s Pen,” I laughed nervously.

A second later, he wiggled the screen close to my face. “Speak of the devil.” Scanning the message quickly, he snorted. “She said she’s doing some work, but she’ll be here shortly.”

“Like I said, Pen’s been busy.”

“Hacking,” he said with a smirk, and I scowled. “Don’t even deny it, Gem, because we both know it’s true. If she doesn’t pull it together soon, she’s going to be stuck in a loop for the rest of her life.”

Jabbing my tongue in my cheek, I prepared to defend my brilliant friend, but the shiver moving down my spine stopped me. “What did you just say to me?” I asked, my voice hushed.

“I said that if she doesn’t pull it together soon, she’s going to be stuck in a loop for the rest of her life,” he repeated, and as I listened to him, I heard a similar statement in the back of my mind.

“Unless you want to be stuck in the loop you’re in for the rest of your life. Your body will only get you so far.”

My mouth dropped open, and red spots pranced in front of my vision.

When they faded, I stared up at the man who’d come into my life, bringing my best friend and a sense of family after I lost mine. I took in the short dark hair and green eyes that belonged to a person who’d been like a brother to me. And when those green eyes widened, and the emotions reflected in them went from surprise to recognition to shame, I knew I was staring at the person who’d encouraged me to turn my life upside down.

Before I realized what I was doing, I heard a sharp echo through the silent apartment as my hand flew across his face.

––––––––

R
eeling back from my blow, Linc clutched the side of his face, his forehead wrinkled in an angry scowl. Like
he
should be angry. “What the fuck was that for, Gemma?” he demanded, and my nostrils flared.

“You know exactly what it was for! I
know
what you did.” Clenching and unclenching my hand to shake out the pain throbbing through it, I took a few steps backward, glowering at Linc until it felt like acid clung to my lashes. He didn’t move an inch. He just stared back at me, his expression crestfallen as he scuffed the soles of his Vans against my foyer floor. “What you just said about Pen is the exact wording you used the night you called me six months ago.”