Page 31 of Dearly Unbeloved (Spicy in Seattle #3)

SIERRA

Thank you for the coffee. I liked the pistachio syrup. - R

P.S. The rose cardamom cookie was pretty gross. We don’t need to be eating flowers.

“ T his is your plan to make me feel better?”

Rose peers up at the storefront with a raised eyebrow. Admittedly, the weathered black and pink sign reading, THE ALTAR, leaves a little to be desired. But it’s what’s on the inside that counts.

“New toys make everything better,” I say, dragging her inside.

A bell chimes over the door, but the adult toy store is otherwise silent. I spy a few other shoppers milling around, but it’s not like 10 a.m. on a Saturday is peak shopping time for stores like this.

“And what would you know about new toys, Mrs. Olivia Newton-John?” Rose asks, looking around, taking in the store.

“That’s Mrs. Rose Cannon for now,” I reply, and she laughs. It’s nothing more than a small bark of laughter, but, after the past few days, it’s perfect.

I convinced Rose to take the rest of the week off, but made sure she had a couple of things to do every day while I was at work. Every day, she’s been waking up a little more like herself. And it’s a real fucking problem how much of a relief that is for me.

She hasn’t brought up anything we talked about earlier this week, and I haven’t either, but at least she’s taking care of herself again. She also hasn’t brought up how I’m acting—or maybe she hasn’t noticed that I just don’t have it in me to fight with her over stupid things anymore.

When I look back at the past year and a half, I can’t for the life of me understand what the fuck our problem was. My mind is muddled, my heart is confused, and we’re just a couple of weeks away from our appointment with the inheritance lawyer.

A fun morning at a sex toy store and an even more fun evening playing with our purchases is exactly what we need.

Despite it being her first time in the store, Rose takes the lead, and I follow her to a wall of restraints. There’s everything from leather cuffs to thick metal chains, but Rose runs her finger over a deep-purple satin ribbon.

“You’d look amazing tied up with this,” she says, plucking it off the hanger. “And, for the record, if we were married for real, I’d be taking your last name. Hayashi is undoubtedly the cooler last name.”

Not to mention that Sierra Cannon sounds like a cheap, off-brand, ambiguous liquor that gets you wasted in thirty seconds flat. That’s what I try to focus on, instead of thinking about Rose with my last name.

“Did you have something particular you wanted in mind?” Rose asks as we head away from the restraints. “Finally ready to move on from Olivia?”

“Never. She’s the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve had her your entire adult life.”

“And she hasn’t failed me yet,” I say, while Rose shakes her head. “As for anything specific, I was thinking—oh shit, sorry.” Not looking where I’m going, I walk back into someone. She drops her bag and a bunch of tissue paper-wrapped packages and boxes spill out.

I crouch down to help her pick them up, apologizing again.

“It’s all good, don’t worry.”

When we stand, coming face-to-face, we both blink in surprised recognition.

“Hallie?” Rose says over my shoulder, and the familiar sapphire eyes Hallie shares with Maggie widen as she looks up.

“Rose. Hi! How are you?” Maggie’s sister asks, clearly flustered. Which is fair. A sex toy store is arguably the worst place to run into someone you know.

“I’m good, yeah. How are you?”

“I’m great.”

There’s an awkward silence before Rose clears her throat. “Oh, right. This is Sierra. I don’t think you guys have met.”

“We met at Maggie’s bachelorette party,” I say softly, and Hallie looks down at her feet. I’m pretty sure that’s the last time she saw her sister. She was supposed to be in the wedding, but Maggie’s family didn’t show up, and she hasn’t spoken to any of them since.

“Right, of course.” Rose winces. Clearly, she’d been hoping to avoid bringing Maggie up. “So, are you living in the city now?”

“Yeah, I moved out here a couple of years ago,” Hallie replies, and she seems relieved by the change of subject.

I don’t notice I’m toying with the ring of my collar until her gaze pauses on it and her eyebrows lift a fraction.

I suppose it’s not surprising that she’d recognize it for what it is, considering where we are.

“Congratulations, by the way. I saw online that you got married a little while ago.”

We both say thanks, as Hallie’s phone chimes. She pulls it out of her pocket and sighs. “Shit, I have to run. It was nice to see you, though. Um…” She hesitates. “Would you mind not telling Maggie that you ran into me?”

“Of course,” Rose says, but she’s frowning. “It was good to see you, Hal.”

Hallie looks like she wants to say more, but she just turns around and leaves the store.

I blow out a breath. “That was…” Awkward, uncomfortable, painful.

“Yeah,” Rose agrees, before I can finish my sentence. “I had no idea she was living here. And I don’t think Maggie knows, either.”

“Were you two friends growing up? You’re close in age, right?”

“She’s a couple of years younger than me. And we weren’t really friends, no. My mom didn’t like me hanging around Maggie’s siblings, but Hallie was like Maggie’s shadow when she was younger, so I saw her more than their brother and sister,” Rose answers, toying with the ring on her finger.

“It’s sad to think they were so close, and now she doesn’t even want Maggie to know we ran into her. I can’t imagine not speaking to Kyo.” I say it without thinking and immediately regret it when something like regret flashes on Rose’s face.

“It’s good that you two have each other,” she says, and, for a moment, I miss the pissed off, snarky responses she used to give me.

“Honey, I?—”

“It’s why I could never go no contact with my parents. Even if I wanted to. I don’t want to lose Xan and Jazz. We’re not half as close as Maggie and Hallie were, and look at them.”

She says it all in one breath, like she just needs to get the words out. I’m so taken aback by her opening up that it takes me a second to respond.

“I don’t think Xan and Jazz?—”

“You said you were thinking of something specific,” she interrupts, clearly done with the conversation. Rose steps away, her walls shooting back up.

I’m working on the couch outside Cal’s office, my feet tucked under me, enjoying the quiet, when Jazz drops down beside me. She groans, rolling her neck.

“You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine, just haven’t been sleeping great lately. Did you speak to Erik Petterson’s assistant about the signatures we need?” she asks, peering at a to-do list on the tablet in her hand.

“I called this morning. Mr. Petterson is out of the country, but he’ll be back tomorrow, and she’ll have the documents sent over,” I answer, and Jazz nods, scribbling out Petterson from the middle of her list.

“Thanks.” She looks up and narrows her eyes. “I love your necklace. Is it new?”

My fingers immediately fly to my throat, brushing the tiny thorns on the gold rose stems. “Rose gave it to me a little while ago.”

Jazz leans in to look closer. “It’s really pretty. Do you know where she got it? Maggie would love something in that style.”

“What would Maggie love?” Cal asks, peeking his head around his office door. I swear he’s like a meerkat, popping up whenever he hears her name.

“Sierra’s necklace,” Jazz says as he joins us, sitting in the armchair beside the couch. “I was thinking about something similar for Maggie’s Christmas.”

Cal runs his gaze over my necklace and lifts a brow. Of course he recognizes it for what it is. He and Maggie are regulars at a literal sex club. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t like it? I’d get Maggie a silver one, obviously,” Jazz says.

He rubs his forehead. “It’s lovely. It’s just… Christ. It’s a collar, Jazz.”

Jazz turns to stare at the necklace and balks. “Oh. Shit.”

Wonderful. Now that Jazz knows, the whole family will know what it is by Thanksgiving.

“Okay, maybe not for Maggie, then. I don’t think she’d even let you put a collar on her,” she says to Cal, and he chuckles.

“I wouldn’t dare. Speaking of, I’m meeting her at Ethel’s for lunch. Want me to bring either of you anything back?”

“Can you get me a chocolate and banana milkshake, French toast sticks, a buffalo falafel sandwich with ranch, cinnamon chip pancakes, Cajun house fries, and whatever fruit plate they have today, please?” Jazz says, and we both stare at her until she shrugs. “I didn’t have time to eat breakfast.”

“On it. Can you text that to me?” Cal asks, and Jazz pulls out her phone. “Anything for you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” I answer, waving him off as he steps into the elevator.

Jazz and I settle into a silence, working through our lists until she drops her tablet on the coffee table and says her eyes need a break.

I close my laptop and set it aside. I haven’t been nearly as productive as I’ve wanted to be today.

The past week has fucked with my head, and I was hoping the trip to the toy store on Saturday would get me and Rose back on steady ground, but seeing Hallie just unraveled her again.

I know it’s not really about Hallie—being faced with her lack of relationship with Maggie made her panic that one day she, Jazz, and Xan would end up the same.

And I understand why she’d think that. I know she wants to be closer with them, and I know Jazz does, too, but if I push too much, they’ll retreat.

It scares the shit out of me. There’s only so long left of our arrangement, and as much as I’m trying not to think about the end date, I can’t help but wonder what happens to Rose when I’m not there.

She’s never lived alone, and I don’t like the idea of her being alone when she’s in a depressive episode. Especially considering I seem to be the only one who knows about said depression.

I can’t force her to get help, and I can’t do anything about our impending deadline, but I can change who knows about what she’s dealing with. Even if it does make me the world’s worst confidant.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

Jazz looks warily at my collar. “Is it about your sex life with my sister?”

“It’s not. Though, for the record, it’s fun to see you deal with this after telling Liam more about his dad’s sex life than he ever needed to know.”

“Touché,” Jazz says, holding out her palms. “What’s up?”

I spin my ring around my finger. “It’s about Rose. She would be so pissed off if she knew I was talking to you about it, but god knows I’m used to her hating me?—”

“Weird thing to say about the woman you married,” Jazz points out, but I ignore her.

“Okay, here’s the thing. Rose is depressed. And I don’t mean recently. She’s been depressed since she was a teenager. She seems to manage it okay most of the time, but she’s not happy day to day, and she has really bad spells sometimes.”

Jazz’s face falls, panic filling her hazel eyes. “What? How is that… How could we not have noticed?”

I lean forward and put my hand over hers, squeezing. “It’s not you. She’s gotten really good at hiding it. We lived together for over a year before I noticed.”

“But since she was a teenager? Someone should’ve noticed. I should’ve noticed.”

“I didn’t tell you so you’d blame yourself, Jazz,” I tell her softly, though I know I’d feel the same if I found out Kyo had been depressed for a decade and I hadn’t noticed. “You were dealing with your own shit, too. This is on your parents. Hell, pretty much everything is on your parents.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jazz says, and guilt spreads over me as I watch her wipe her eyes. Shit. This wasn’t what I was going for.

“Jazz, I’m sorry. I?—”

“No, no. I’m glad you told me. I’m just surprised.” She takes a deep breath, like she’s centering herself. “Okay. When you say depressed, is… is she hurting herself? Do you think she might?”

I shake my head before she finishes talking.

“No. I asked her, and she said no. And I believe her.” Mostly.

Do I think there’s an element of Rose hurting herself in how hard she pushes herself at work?

How she doesn’t let herself have anything fun?

Absolutely, but I don’t think she’s in any immediate danger.

“I think we need to take it slow in getting her to open up,” I continue.

“I’m trying to get her to go to the doctor to talk about medication and therapy, and I asked her to consider talking to you and Xan.

Not even about this, just in general. I think it would be helpful for her—and the two of you—to process all the shit with your parents together.

I know you have Maggie and Liam, and Xan has Kami, but Rose…

She doesn’t have anyone other than me.” And she only has me for a little while longer, I think, trying to ignore how much the thought makes me want to shut down completely.

Jazz is never going to forgive me when she finds out we’re getting divorced. Especially not after this conversation.

“That all sounds like the best way to handle it,” Jazz agrees, sitting back against the couch, her brow pinched. “I won’t tell her you’ve told me, obviously, and I agree with taking it slow, but promise me you’ll tell me if it gets worse, Sierra.”

“I promise.”

And if she hates me forever for it… Well, I guess it won’t matter once we sign the papers.