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Caleb:
Wear body armor.
Keene:
You might need it.
I slip in the side door at Tide Pool, expecting to find Laura huddled at a corner table drinking amid her siblings and her cousins. Then I could slip over and ask her to take a walk with me so we could talk.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Fuck off!” The entire room explodes just as I show the bouncer my cell phone with the QR code Caleb told me I’d need to get in. Maybe I should heed their warning, turn around, and try approaching her on a different night.
That is until I capture Laura in my sights. Then I’m immoveable as I can’t process what I’m seeing.
Every person who could call themselves a member of Laura’s extended tribe is on the dance floor, including—my eyes bug out—Caleb and Keene. But that doesn’t compare to the fact the woman I’m in love with is rocking right alongside my daughter’s idol—Austyn Kensington. The two women are harmonizing to Gayle’s infamous “ABCDEFU.”
If Bailey was here right now, she’d squeal louder than the music.
There isn’t an ounce of heartbreak visible on her exquisite face. As a spotlight catches her, the natural highlights in her sable locks shine. Laura smirks at the other woman as she sings. Long legs encased in form fitting leather pants and high-heeled boots, saliva pools in my mouth at the sight of her after having no contact with her the past six weeks. The way her body undulates in time to the sadistic anthem makes me want to rip off that excuse for a shirt and feast on her perfect breasts.
You’re a long way from that, I caution myself as I lurk in the shadows.
Kensington takes the lead, and Laura takes a swig from a bottle of champagne a handsome man hands up to her. She hands it back to him. Shit, there’s no way I’m going to escape without blood being shed. The guy she just handed it to knows how to use knives way to well for my liking. I easily recognize Peter Freeman, even from a distance.
Off to the side, I see my “friend” Jake hanging next to Brendan Blake, and my asshole twitches a bit when I realize why security’s so tight.
Beckett Miller.
Great. So not only do I have to face off with the woman I love’s family, but this place is also just crawling with Hudson Investigation bodyguards who are likely authorized to take someone out on a simple kill order. I’m pretty certain the sweat dripping from my balls makes me look like I’ve peed myself, but that’s okay.
I’m ready to face Laura.
The crowd roars the refrain alongside Laura as she raises her mic for the bridge. Her fist raises in the air with the tempo as she calls out the song’s title. “ABCDEFU!” Her family shouts it back like it’s some kind of anthem—Cassidy is more enthusiastic than the rest, I note self-depreciatingly.
Despite the few times Caleb’s pleaded with his wife to watch Bailey, or since Cassidy and I spoke in her office, I’m pretty certain I’m still on her shit list.
A hand clamps down on my shoulder. My head whips to the side. Even though I could likely have a fair fight with her twin, my balls have now turned into ice cubes due to the frigid expression Jon’s aiming at me. Before I can speak, he squeezes. “I hope like hell you’re not going to crash her celebration party.”
“Her what?”
Jon forces my attention back to the direction of the stage instead of on him. That’s where I spy the banner hanging over the musicians that reads “Congratulations, Laura!”
Congratulations? On what? Then it hits me that I wasn’t there for the biggest moment in her recovery, unlike all the milestones she’s been there for my child. Dully, I say, “She’s returning to work?”
“See, that’s why you aren’t the right man for my sister.” Jon relishes telling me.
“Why’s that?” I challenge.
“Because you were damned determined to make sure this night never happened.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? Then why couldn’t you look past the fact what happened to your daughter wasn’t her fault?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I snarl, pissed he struck at the heart of the matter. But he has no right to know I never really blamed her. Laura does.
If she wants it. If she believes it.