Page 15

Chapter 15

Juliette

I fiddled with the radio as Constantine pulled into traffic, landing on a song that had my fingers going still.

A country worship song playing. The lyrics were about forgiveness and redemption. Based on Constantine’s white-knuckled grip of the wheel as the words were belted out, it was best that I just turned off the radio.

I rested my hands in my lap as an awkward silence filled the space, and it stayed that way for a few blocks until Colin came to the rescue, breaking it.

“You ever return that locket I bought Mom?”

“No.”

“What are you planning to do with it?”

Constantine checked his rearview mirror before changing lanes. “I’ll have you give it to her as planned on her birthday next weekend.”

“No, I can’t accept that.” I waved my hand between our seats.

“You can and you will.” His authoritative tone wasn’t lost on me.

Colin poked his head between our seats. “Good.”

“How’s your eye? Looks like it’s getting swollen.” My question sent Colin backward, stealing my chance to get a better look at him.

“Stop being such a nurse. I’m fine,” he complained.

“I’m being a mom.” My hands settled back on my lap as I gave up on nurse-momming him for the time being.

“Can you turn the radio back on?” Colin asked a moment later. “If not, I’m going to start asking more questions.”

Constantine beat me to the controls and turned on a pop station. “This good?”

“Country,” Colin requested, and Constantine quietly obliged him, clearly willing to do anything to dodge talking about himself.

I didn’t blame him. The whole morning gave new meaning to “a lot.”

“Max McNown. Good singer. Dope song,” Colin said.

Relief washed over me as we sat there in peace for the rest of the car ride.

It wasn’t until we pulled up to a beautiful building that Colin spoke again. “Whoa, this place is sick. You live here? Let me guess, on the top floor?”

Constantine didn’t answer, and I took that as a yes to both of Colin’s questions.

Once we parked, he rounded the Maserati to open the door for me and offered his hand to help me. A girl could get used to this, which was sad since it was really only the bare minimum. But it was still rare among most guys I’d dated in the past.

Constantine pulled his hand from mine once I was on my feet and handed me my purse before ducking into the backseat.

He tossed his laptop in a messenger bag and insisted he carry all of our things for us. I knew when to pick and choose my battles, so I didn’t push back.

Constantine gestured with Colin’s duffel bag toward a golden door off the side of three other silver ones. “This elevator is only for our use.”

For us. Are we now an us?

He punched in a code without sharing the digits. Did he intend to never let us out of his sight?

As Colin had called it, we went to the top floor.

Constantine stepped forward and set his right hand on a small screen that lit up, and only then did the doors open.

“What in the rich-people-hell is that?” Colin murmured, and I noticed a slight tug at Constantine’s mouth. Was that an almost-smile? “This whole floor is yours, isn’t it?” he asked as Constantine stepped in front of the only door in sight.

He set down our bags and unlocked the door. “Maybe,” he said with his back to us before opening up. He killed the alarm, picked up our bags, and allowed us to go in first.

Colin wasted no time checking out our temporary living quarters, and I quickly followed him, worried I’d lose him in this mansion.

“Holy shit.” Colin slapped his hands together, doing a three-sixty in the living room, which was open to the kitchen area. “This place is on another level.”

Constantine left our bags in front of a hallway and joined us alongside the windows overlooking the Hudson River to the left and the city at our right.

I did a three-sixty myself, dropping my purse on the floor while keying in on the fact the man didn’t like color. Gray. Gray. More gray. A little black and white, and a splash of one red pillow to really liven up the place (noted with all the sarcasm in the world).

“So, this is how the one percent live, huh? Or is it more like the point one percent?” Colin made a beeline for the kitchen. The fridge blended in with the cabinetry, and it took Colin a moment to locate it. “What, no milk?”

Constantine removed his phone from his pocket and began typing. “I don’t drink milk.”

“That sucks.” Colin banged the fridge door shut with a little too much force.

Please don’t break anything.

He then proceeded to open every door and pantry in sight. “Zero junk food. You some health food nut?” He faced his father, a look of disgust on his face.

“Milk will be delivered later. Some semi -unhealthy snacks as well.” Constantine returned his phone to his pocket. “Satisfied?”

Colin snapped his fingers. “Just like that? Poof. Food will magically appear.”

“I don’t do my own shopping. Someone does it for me.” Constantine shrugged as if that was a perfectly normal response.

For an apparently rich guy, according to my son’s internet search, it’d probably be abnormal if he did push a grocery cart down the aisle. And I doubt he found the price of eggs offensive.

“When was the last time you were in a grocery store?” Colin grinned.

“I don’t know, maybe five years.”

Ah, the last time you shopped is the last time I’ve been on a date. Thank God my overtired brain didn’t let that slip out. Also, note to self, do not drink alcohol around this man. One drink, and I’d truly go with the flow. I’d word vomit my deepest thoughts. But two drinks, and my control might snap. Who knows what?—

“Why don’t you go to your room and get some rest?” Constantine suggested, interrupting my spiraling thoughts that had no business being in my head. “None of us have slept.” He casually checked his watch. “It’s already after zero eight hundred.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Civilian time, man.”

I was impressed by Constantine’s ability to not fight fire with fire when it came to our son, which wasn’t always easy to do with teenagers.

He let that “man” slide and translated, “It’s after eight o’clock.” He had to have known Colin was well aware of the time, but he was polite to respond to our son’s attitude anyway. “Your bedroom is upstairs next to the game room.” He pointed toward the hall where he’d set down our belongings.

“Games up there, too?” Colin asked, eyes lighting up like he’d won the lottery.

“Pool table. Poker. Sure.”

Colin grimaced. “Not what I was talking about.” He went over to his bag and picked it up. “I’m going to be bored here. Can you add a PlayStation to that list with the milk? Oh, and Call of Duty . Fortnite, too.”

I was about to shut down the idea of buying him anything, but Constantine took charge. “Do you really think you deserve a PlayStation after sneaking out while grounded, going to a rave, and lying to your mother?”

I shouldn’t have found him being all parent-y sexy, but I did.

“Come on. Give me a break.” Colin’s shoulders slumped. “You have a lot of birthdays to make up for, don’t you?”

Oh, that was a low blow, and I came to his defense without hesitation. “It’s not his fault he missed out on anything.”

“We’ll talk about everything I missed when the time is right. For now, sleep.” He angled his head, eyes tight on Colin as a sign not to protest, and much to my shock and awe, Colin obeyed.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped about the PlayStation,” he said once it was only the two of us.

“It was the perfect amount of steps.” I smiled. “It gets exhausting always the one disciplining. From the sounds of it, I haven't done the best job if he was sneaking out and lying about a girlfriend.”

“You did an incredible job with him. He made his own choices, and you can’t blame yourself for them any more than you can for the fact that I”—he coughed into his fist—“wasn’t in his life.”

I desperately wanted to absolve him of the guilt he shouldn’t feel, but I doubted I’d get him to that place today. “Since we’re holding off on discussing what happened for now, could you at least help ease my concerns, so I have a shot at sleeping?”

He strode closer but remained outside of my reach. “I can try.”

“How worried should I be about what happened at the rave?” I cut straight to it. “Is this gang situation more like a group of young kids getting into trouble? Or are we talking mob stuff?”

He stroked his jaw, eyes on the floor instead of on me, which wasn’t that reassuring. “I believe it’s a low-level thing, but everything will be okay.” He lifted his gaze and added, “I’ll handle it.”

Something told me he honestly would, which was why I wasn’t panicking.

“Come on, I’ll take you to your room. Just two doors down from mine.” He picked up my purse and offered it to me before going for my suitcase next.

I quietly followed him down a different hall than Colin had taken, passing closed doors and empty walls. It felt sad and lonely, and something about that fact hurt my heart for him.

Are you sad and lonely?

He stopped outside one of the doors, and I nearly collided with him. “Sorry.” I lifted my hands in apology at our near crash.

His gaze dropped over my blue scrubs before returning to my face.

I looked down and back up again. “What?”

“Nothing.” He smirked, lightly shaking his head, then opened the guest room door, waiting for me to enter before joining me.

I was pleased to see that someone who enjoyed color had decorated this room. Soft hues of orange and tanzanite brightened up the space. I set my eyes on the statement piece in the room—a beautiful canopy bed that looked like it’d come from the pages of a travel magazine, beckoning a visit to Bali or . . . well, Aruba.

Why did the room feel familiar? Remind me of that bed, the one we made love in. And the framed photograph of a beach over the bed . . . was that our beach, where the water had crashed onto the shore while we made love?

I was probably reading too much into the room. I highly doubted he remembered what the bedroom even looked like.

Yeah, we’d had sex with the lights on, but what an absurd stretch of the imagination for me to believe he’d recreated this room to remember me?

This had to be one big coincidence. I’d have to do my best not to express my hope I was right when I turned around.

“You like it?” he asked, his voice almost hoarse.

“Mm-hmm.” I set aside my purse, pulled myself together, then slowly faced him. But the nerves in my stomach didn’t dissipate. They kept fluttering, kept what if ’ing their way to a place of hope.

I had to stop these dangerous thoughts, so I reminded myself he told me he’d believed I’d rejected him. Therefore, it made no sense he’d recreate a room to remind him of our time together. That’d be as ridiculous as believing he drank Legacy Ridge all these years, not because he loved the taste, but because he wanted to remember me.

“You okay?” he asked in a concerned tone.

“Yes,” I lied, wishing my face would stop talking on behalf of my mouth. “Private bathroom?” I deflected.

“There is. It should be fully stocked.”

“Guests stay here often?” Shit. My voice betrayed me, cracking on the last word.

“This will be the first time. My cleaning staff just always ensures everything is ready for guests if the time were to come that I have them.”

“Oh. No one has slept in this bed, then?” Stop it, hope. Go away.

“No.” He turned to the side, giving me his profile. “You’ll be the first,” he added while walking to the doorway. “Get some rest.”

“Wait, um.”

He glanced over at me, his hand going to the interior of the doorframe.

“Thank you for saving Colin. I don’t know if I said that yet, but he said you risked your life for him.”

“You never need to thank me for protecting our son,” he responded in a low voice.

“Well, I will anyway.” I swallowed. “And, um, are you okay? This is all a lot for you.”

“I’m . . .” His chest lifted and fell as he looked up at the ceiling. “Processing.”

“Makes sense.” I waited for him to look at me before continuing. “He may bounce back and forth between shock, denial, anger, and happiness. Don’t take offense if he’s ever on the angry side, please. He’s just processing, too.”

“Understandable.” He lightly nodded, then patted the doorframe twice as if about to leave. “Juliette?”

“Yeah?”

“You should know that if the situation at the rave hadn’t happened, I’d have come up with another excuse to have him here with me.”

“Oh.” I was so drawn to the man that I hadn’t even realized I’d closed the space between us and was now standing before him. “Well, you should know you wouldn’t have needed an excuse to have him here with you.” As steadily and earnestly as possible, so he’d accept my words as the gospel truth, I added, “I’ll never keep him from you.”

He squeezed his eyes closed and murmured, “I hope you still feel that way after you know more about me.”