Page 31

Bailey

In the week that follows my heart-to-heart with Charlie, I begin to notice a peculiar sensation. Something akin to walking on clouds. Never in a million years did I think the deal between Charlie and I would turn into something neither of us could control, but here we are.

While there’s no title, no public knowledge, nothing to let anyone know that we’ve been secretly sleeping in each other’s beds every night, there’s a connection between the two of us when we’re in a room together. It feels like I’m being pulled to him by some kind of invisible rope.

We spend the next week getting to know each other in a long, drawn-out form of twenty questions. I learned that his favorite color is blue and the way he said it while brushing my hair out of my eyes made my stomach do a somersault. I also learned that he loves dogs, and he’d had one until a couple years ago when it passed. The thought made me sad. Losing a family member is shitty. Losing a parent is devastating; but losing a pet, something that loves you unconditionally, is the closest thing to death that I’ve ever experienced.

I told him about my dog Lucky, whom Dad had gotten for me at seven when I fell in love with him at the animal shelter. He’d also passed when I was sixteen, from a heart condition, and I was heartbroken. I could barely leave my room for months.

Charlie and I cook together and I manage to not burn the house down. He teaches me jambalaya, gumbo, crawfish étouffée — not quite as stress relieving as full crawfish, but still good. We spend the evenings curled up on the couch or in bed, watching old movies. He tolerates the old slasher films, even sitting through countless chick flicks with me, though I often catch him falling asleep.

It’s all so domestic. The only thing that isn’t is the way he fucks me at night. If I’d thought the sex would wane as time wore on, I was wrong. He kisses me endlessly, until my lips are chapped and swollen. He gives me countless orgasms, and even finally christens the pool with me.

When he’s at work during the day, I work on my novel, but find myself checking the clock until he comes home. I’ve noticed he’s started going in a little later than usual and leaving on time. Even Andi notices something is different. During the rehearsal, when Charlie and I walk down the aisle, she makes a comment about how good we look together, thoroughly embarrassing me and making Charlie chuckle.

One night, he was going over invoices for the bar. I leaned against the side of his desk and he wrapped an arm around my hip, pulling me to sit in his lap .

“Tell me what you’re looking at,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“This is how much money the bar made last week.” He points to the paperwork in front of him.

My eyes bulge at the large number. “Holy shit. That’s a lot.”

He points to another, smaller number. “That’s how much we have to put back into the business to cover the cost of the next week. That cost is based on what last year was, plus the week previously.”

My head hurts trying to make sense of it all.

I grin at him. “No one told me I was sleeping with Einstein. You’re really smart.” I let my finger trail down his bare chest to lower, stopping just above the waistband of his sweats.

He grabs that finger, raising it to his mouth and nipping at the pad. My breath hitches when he does so and he smooths the bite with his tongue. “And you’re really fucking beautiful.”

As Andi’s wedding nears, I find myself able to come help out in the restaurant less and less. My days are now filled with meeting the wedding planner, organizing the flowers, making sure all the bridesmaids dresses fit their respective woman. It’s exhausting work, but knowing I can spend my night with Charlie somehow makes up for that.

Drew never cared about making sure we had time for each other. If we did, we did. If not, oh well. That was his motto. Charlie is adamant about seeing me, kissing me the moment he gets home and not stopping until dinner is burning and we are in danger of setting the house on fire.

Saturday brings about the final meeting with Astrid, the wedding planner. She agreed to meet us at the restaurant, later in the evening, so that Charles can be present, at least some of the time. I’m thankful that Sarah has chosen to sit this meeting out, as I’m trying to turn over a new leaf of kindness and I know she will mess that up.

“Now, the cake will be dark chocolate champagne with white raspberry vanilla frosting. The caterer is set to have it there by five, so right before you arrive from the ceremony.”

I don’t know anything about cake, but I do know the samples I tried last week were unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before. If I ever manage to find a man fucked up enough to marry me, I want to have a cake specially flown in to wherever the wedding is.

Charlie catches my eye from the bar and I look him up and down. He’s been distracting me tonight and I’m already thinking about what I’m going to do with him when we get home. Discretely, I check the time on my phone. Two hours till close. I can handle that. I think.

His black button-up clings to his abs and my mouth waters. His eyes shoot to mine and flash with something dark and primal. Possessive. My skin feels like it’s been dipped in molten silver under his gaze. His lip quirks up and I know he’s remembering last night when he’d ventured lower, again, making me come until my legs shook and my heart was racing.

“Also, the florist will have everything ready at one, so that should cover the room for any guests that decide to arrive early.”

“What flowers did we even settle on, Bailey? I can’t remember.” An elbow hits me in the arm and jerks my attention back to the table. “Bailey.”

“Sorry,” I murmur, shaking my head as heat blooms up my neck. “Light pink roses and white lilies.”

Andi nods, happy with her choice. “I thought the pink would look good against all the white curtains in the venue.”

The planner launches into more details about the wedding, but my eyes lock on the back of a brunette head as she saddles up to the bar.

Bianca looks like sex in high heels, with a turquoise tank top that reaches just below her breasts, high-waisted denim shorts and wedge sandals. Her hair cascades down her back, the ends reaching just above her hips and perfectly straight. God, not only is she pretty, she has the best hair, too. She leans over the bar in a way that would press her breasts together — which, might I add, are perfect, too — and Charlie’s unreadable mask slips into place. He says something I wish I could hear and jealously curls in my stomach, making me sick.

I tell myself it’s nothing because the blank expression on Charlie’s face holds none of the heat it does for me. You could have thrown a cold bucket of water on him and you would get more fire.

Bianca reaches out, running a hand down his arm and he doesn’t move away.

That doesn’t look like nothing.

Deciding I can’t watch anymore, I look away.

It’s not until I catch the two of them sneaking to the back that I look again, my gaze following the broad lines of Charlie’s shoulders as he leaves the room.

My gut sinks.

I try to listen to the rest of the meeting, but my mind races, replaying every bad scenario over and over again until I think I might scream. I tell myself to trust him and furthermore, that we aren’t anything official. I’m not supposed to feel these things about him. I’m supposed to not care.

I care, though. More than I can say.

A couple minutes after Charlie left, our meeting wraps up. There’s still no sign of him and I debate on looking for him. Andi leaves to go home to Tom and I circle up to the window beside Lionel.

“Where did Charlie go?”

He pauses for a second, before continuing to cut the chicken he’s working with.

“He went out back with that little girl.”

I bite my lip as anxiety swells inside me.

Sighing heavily, Lionel sets his knife down on the cutting board. “I’ve seen her before. She hung around about a year ago. Even tried to get a job here, but Pops wouldn’t hire her.”

I lean back against the counter, clutching my back to me.

“Staring at that door ain’t going to make it any easier, baby girl.”

I look up at him and he nods toward the back door.

Determination spreads through me and I march toward the door, flinging it open to the empty courtyard. Empty until Charlie walks around the corner from the alley, Bianca in tow. He stills when we lock eyes, but I see the mark of pink lipstick on his cheek.

Pink lipstick that perfectly matches Bianca’s.

Their clothes are ruffled, slightly askew from what they were earlier.

Bianca smiles sweetly at me and waves, though there’s a black glint of maliciousness in her eyes.

Charlie winces, taking a step toward me.

My body responds instinctively to his, though I’m feeling anything but turned on at the moment. Hurt crashes through me like a heavy weight, landing on my chest. Absentmindedly, I run my hand over the spot where my locket should be, feeling even more distressed when I remember it isn’t there.

I have to get out of here.

I spin on my heel and hurry toward the back gate, knowing I can’t take the time to say goodbye to anyone. If I do, surely I’ll break down. I can’t do that here. If Charlie knew how much that single moment hurt me, he would know my feelings had surpassed the deal.

“Bailey!” Charlie snaps as I slam the gate behind me. I don’t stop.

In fact, I don’t stop until I’m home where I can successfully break down and cry like a baby. I cut on the shower and take off all my clothes, throwing them in a wad at the wall separating mine and Charlie’s rooms with an angry groan.

Fuck him for making me fall in love with him.

Fuck myself for making this deal with him in first place.

And fuck New Orleans for even existing.

I sink under the hot spray of the water, letting my tears mix on my cheeks. Water pours from the ends of my hair in a steady stream around my face.

God, I’m such an idiot. Why couldn’t I pick someone who wasn’t on New Orleans’ list of hottest players in the city?

Deciding I’m just too sad to stand, I curl my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on my arms .

“Stupid, stupid girl,” I mutter, wiping angrily at the tears.

A loud bang on the door makes me jump, letting out a squeak.

“Bailey, let me in.”

My heart flutters and I want more than anything to open the door, but I need some time away. I need to capture my emotions and bottle them so that I can get through this with dignity.

“Go away, Charlie.”

“Baby, I didn’t fucking touch her. I wouldn’t,” he bites, slapping what I assume is his palm against the door.

Baby? The only time he calls me that is when some part of him is in some part of me.

I stand on shaky legs, but don’t move from the shower.

“Bull shit,” I snap. “There’s lipstick on your cheek.”

“Let me in and I’ll show you what happened.”

I shake my head, my voice quivering. “I don’t need to see what happened. It was pretty clear.”

“If you don’t let me in, I’ll break this goddamned door down. I’m going crazy out here.”

Good. That makes two of us.

“Bailey,” he warns.

I ignore him, knowing he won’t do it. The door is made of thick, heavy wood. Breaking it would take too much force—

A crash erupts in the bathroom and the door slaps against the wall.

He moves in, stepping around the steam covered shower door and right in the spray of the water. He towers over me, his breath ghosting across my skin, sending goosebumps up my spine as he blocks the water .

“You can walk away after this, but you will hear me out, first.”

His expression is wild, like a hurricane in his eyes and I see something that makes my heart stop. Panic.

“I didn’t fucking touch her.”

“The lipstick on your cheek suggests otherwise. And your clothes were messed up.”

He takes a step toward me, his fully clothed body, mere inches from my completely naked one. He holds up his phone, showing a clear picture of the two of them in the alleyway. She trades him something for a wad of what looks like money. They talk for a moment, then she makes a move toward him, attempting to kiss him and he pulls her off, much to her dismay.

I bite my tongue, tasting blood in my mouth.

Goddammit, I’m an idiot.

“Why was she there in the first place?” I snap, my voice low.

He places his phone on the bathroom counter and reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulling out a little velvet black box. Dread wells inside me and the room swirls.

“It’s not what you think,” he murmurs, unclasping the end and opening it. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn’t think she would show up in the middle of your meeting.”

Inside the box is a gold chain, almost identical to the one Dad gave me, with my locket, sparkling like it’s brand new again.

“Why would you do that?” I ask, quietly. Tears burning in my eyes. I take a shaky breath and reach out, but not daring to touch it.

He places a finger under my chin, lifting my face to his. “I saw how upset you were when it broke. Her father is a jeweler. He was able to find the same chain.”

I take a step back, needing to put some distance between the two of us.

“I’m sorry I made you break the door.”

He chuckles, his lips curling up at the sides.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I’d hurt you.”

“You’re at perfect liberty to sleep with whoever you want,” I murmur, though the sentence tastes sour. “Just leave me out of it.”

He shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t do that to you. We made a deal.”

Well, thanks for that.

He takes a step toward me, reaching for me and taking my fingers in his.

“Would it make a difference if I told you I don’t want anyone else?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat.

Again, that makes two of us.

“We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“I think I’m doing a pretty good job of hating myself on my own.”

I smile, despite myself, letting him pull me toward him. I let his safety cage me and, even if just for a moment, I don’t worry about the future. A future where he isn’t in it seems bleak suddenly.

“I know this is going to end,” he says, his gaze darkening. “But I’ll make good on my word.”

End. I don’t know why that hurts me so much. It hits me like a brick in the chest. In that moment, I come to the stark realization that I don’t want it to end. If I could freeze time, I would.

Aiming to lighten the mood, I laugh, taking him in. “You’re soaked.”

He laughs with me — a real laugh. His shirt clings to every line in his stomach and my mouth waters. His jeans — the dreaded wet denim — are dripping wet where the water hits them.

“You did this.” He grabs me by the shoulders and maneuvers me under the spray of water when I shiver. The warmth chases away the goosebumps on my skin. Leaning forward, he kisses me gently, his tongue sliding across mine.

“How did you get out of work?” I ask against his lips.

“Told Dad it was an emergency and left.”

My hands slide down his chest, marveling in every rigid inch of him.

Without warning, I drop to my knees.

His eyes flare and he runs his tongue over his teeth.

“You don’t need to do that,” he murmurs darkly. He caresses my face, his thumb hooking onto my bottom lip and tugging. I nip the pad of his thumb and he lets out a sharp breath.

“How else do I thank you for my gift?” I smirk, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down to free his cock. His erection stands in front of me, painfully hard and a bead of precum oozes out of the tip. I take him in my hand and run my tongue over the slit, tasting him without giving him any time to gather himself.

Charlie’s head falls back and he lets out a deep groan. I meet his gaze, the heat of his eyes spreading down my stomach and into my core. I lave my tongue around his head, watching his abs draw tight through the soaking wet material of his shirt.

And then I slide him into my mouth.

“ Fuck . . . ” he hisses, his eyes boring into mine. “So fucking perfect.”

I moan in appreciation and the sound vibrates through his cock. He fists my hair, not pushing me, but guiding me. I let him, sliding my tongue over the hard vein in the underside of his cock.

Charlie’s face darkens and he looks like an impatient God, all power and sheer dominance.

“Just like that, baby,” he urges as I move him in and out of my mouth. He’s too big, but I let him slip down my throat as much as I can until I choke and have to retreat.

“God, yes,” he grits, his jaw clenched. I can feel the muscles of his abdomen tighten as his cock grows impossibly longer and thicker. “Suck my cock, baby.”

Warmth blooms in my core, spreading through my body like a wildfire. Water drips over my head and slides down my face, but I don’t care.

“You’re so fucking good, Bailey. Such a good fucking girl.”

I mewl in appreciation and he lets out a string of curses. I work him deeper until he’s touching the back of my throat. One hand rests on his upper thigh for balance, while my other hand strokes him.

He holds my face, sliding into me. My eyes water, but I hold his gaze, letting him fuck my mouth. He moves faster and faster, a sense of urgency building. I resist the urge to touch myself, desperate to make him come.

“Where can I come, Bailey?” he asks, his voice pained. I continue to suck and jerk him, not letting up until he’s spilling over into my mouth. Hot beads of come shoot down my throat as he comes with a hoarse cry, leaning over me and collapsing against the wall of the shower.

I release him with a pop and lick my lips.

Charlie’s eyes darken with a look deeper than lust, something I don’t understand. A shiver of fear runs up my spine, but I don’t have time to react before he’s grabbing me and pulling me to him. “Come here.”