Chapter 17
Luke
My hands shake as I hold the bottle and take a swig of the scotch. I close my eyes as I try to steady my breathing, the smell of her still around me. Fuck, she smells like heaven, the smell of a ripe lemon on a sunny day. All I wanted to do was lean into her and smell her one more time.
The minute she turned and asked me to unbutton her, everything in my body came alive. My fingers worked one button after another, and when I finally unzipped her, I looked up and saw that little freckle on her back. The same freckle that I kissed when we were together. My eyes go back to the closed door as I picture her getting out of her dress and standing in the middle of my bedroom almost naked. My cock springs to action, and I bring the bottle back to my lips to calm myself down. The burning hits the back of my throat right away as I swallow the amber liquid. "This is not how I planned to spend the night." I look up at the ceiling, trying to talk myself off the ledge when the door opens, and I don't know why, but I stand up straight.
"That's better," she says, walking toward me wearing just my black T-shirt. The way she swings her hips, I see the shirt sway against her upper thighs.
"That is most definitely not better," I mumble to myself as she walks toward me, and I really hope she is wearing boxers under that shirt. Her long legs look sensational, and all I can do is watch her. She makes her way to the stool and climbs back up on it again, and I'm thankful that the island is covering the fact that I'm sure the shirt has risen, giving me an even better view of her legs.
"I didn't realize how heavy that dress was." She laughs as she sits down.
"I should go," I say at the same time that my head yells this is a bad, bad idea. She looks at me, confused. “I'm going to go and call your sisters and tell them where you are." The pressure in my chest suddenly makes it hard to breathe as my breathing now comes in pants.
"Why?" She gets up on the stool, leaning forward, and grabbing the scotch from me.
"There are a bunch of reasons," I reply. She brings the bottle to her lips, and I don't know why but they seem plumper.
"Which are?" She puts the bottle down after she finishes taking a sip. I should be happy that the gulps have now switched to sips.
"A whole bunch of reasons," I repeat, making her laugh.
"So you said, yet you can't come up with them." She tilts her head to the side. Enjoying that I’m fumbling.
"Well, for one, you just ran away from your wedding." I try to make sure that my words make sense.
"I don't know why that would matter that we are both here." She grabs the bottle again and sips it.
"And here we are, the two of us are alone." I stare at her as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Alone in a cabin. With no one else. Alone."
"I don't think you said the word alone enough." She shrugs. “Not a big deal. What's your next one?" I just stare at her now, all the words are lost from my vocabulary. “You said there are a bunch of reasons, but you've only given me one."
"Two, it's a bad idea." My head spins as I think of reasons I shouldn't stay. Why I can't stay. Every single time she talks to me, my mind goes to mush.
"Right." She giggles. “So far we have that I was getting married and it's a bad idea." She holds up two fingers.
"We are alone in a secluded cabin." My head starts to throb. I reach my hands out, putting them on the counter on each side. “I just don't want people to talk."
"Well, considering I ran from my wedding." She crosses her hands in front of her. “People are still talking."
"But I don't want them to talk about us being here." The look of hurt fills her face, and I don't know why. Then it hits me that my words make it sound like I don't want to be here with her. “I don't want you to have a reputation because of me. Someone could have been outside and saw me carry you to my truck and take off." She rolls her lips. “What if they think I kidnapped you?"
"Relax, no one is grabbing their pitchforks and coming to kill the beast." She claps her hands together. "Get it? Beauty, which is me." She points at herself. “And the Beast." She points at me. “Which is you."
"Yeah, I got it," I say, and I seriously think I'm going to have a panic attack. "You’re hilarious."
"It's one of my many talents," she says, and I miss this side of her. The side where we used to sit down and just talk after we would take care of whatever business we were dealing with. The funny Clarabella who used to just shoot the shit with me and make me laugh every single time she opened her mouth.
"Oh, trust me, I know," I respond, not telling her she has other talents I loved more. "But seriously. I'm going to leave and call your sisters and tell them where you are."
"I just don't know what the big deal is." She grabs the bottle and takes a sip.
I close my eyes as the thumping of my head comes on. “Are there any other reasons you shouldn't stay here?" She waits for me. “You really should know that when you say a bunch, it's not two. Two is a couple." She holds up her two fingers. “A bunch is more than five."
"Says who?" I put my hands on my hips.
"Google," she says, rolling her eyes and then taking another sip.
I want to reach for the bottle, but I know that if I'm going to drive, I shouldn't touch another sip. "We shared something," I finally say out loud, and the funny Clarabella is gone, and in its place is the Clarabella you don't want to fuck with. Her whole demeanor changes, and all she does is glare at me. Idiot, my head yells at me. At the same time, I want to tell her to forget it, but now that it's out there, I can't put it back in the box.
"Did we?" She folds her arms over her chest, and I regret even saying a word. "You don't say." I'm about to say something when she holds up her hand. “Wait a second. I believe what you said is ‘this was a mistake.’" She looks at the ceiling. “Yeah, from my memory, which is foggy right now, but I’m pretty certain you looked at me and said ‘this was a mistake.’"
"Clarabella," I say her name through clenched teeth, but it doesn't seem she is done speaking.
"Yes." She nods her head, putting her finger to her chin and tapping it to pretend she is thinking, but you know she doesn't have to think about this. "That is exactly what you said to me." She slams the hand that was tapping her chin on the island. “One minute, we were in bed together. You were all up in me." My teeth clench when she says that. “And then the next, you are sitting on the side of the bed while I lay there naked, telling me that it was a mistake." I'm about to speak, but she just glares at me. "I would choose your words very carefully, Luke."
"I have no excuse for that but to say I was scared." I swallow the lump in my throat.
She laughs, and I know she's not really laughing. Actually, come to think of it, it's the sound one makes before lunging for a person to choke them. “Okay, maybe that word isn't right." I hold up my hands. “I just didn't want anything between us to change." She just shakes her head. “What we shared was more than just a one-night stand." I run my hands through my hair, wanting to rip it out for her. "I'm not explaining myself well."
"Oh, you’re definitely fucking this up to the tenth degree," she admits. “One minute, we were a mistake, and the next, you were gone." She laughs bitterly at me. “Fun. Good times." She takes a sip. “Also would not recommend."
"Are you done?" I ask. And if I thought she was glaring at me before, I was wrong. I've always heard the saying if looks could kill, but for the first time in my life, I'm given that look. "I had no choice but to go. It was an opportunity of a lifetime. When Francois called me about the place in New York, I had no choice. It was my dream to have a restaurant in New York City. Not only was it my only chance but he also gave me six hours to get to him. I didn't know what to do."
"And you couldn't pick up the phone to call and tell me?" she shouts and then throws up her hands. "Imagine that, picking up a telephone and calling." She brings her hand up to her ear with her thumb and pinky out, putting it to her ear. “It's barbaric, I know, but that's the way people communicate."
"What was I supposed to say?" I put my hands on my hips, my whole body now filled with nervous energies as we throw words at each other from each side of the island.
"I wanted you to say anything!” she yells. “Anything would have been better than nothing."
"What did you want me to say to you, Clarabella?" I look at her, and this time, I'm the one who doesn't give her a chance to say anything. “You wanted me to call you after you stormed out of the house and be like ‘last night was amazing.’" My voice goes louder. “Best night of my life, but I'm leaving, so catch you on the flip side." I stare into her eyes. “Is that what you wanted?"
"It doesn't matter what I wanted," she says, and I can hear the hurt in her voice.
"Clarabella," I say her name again, this time soft, this time with a plea for her to look at me, but she doesn't. Instead, she looks to the side, and I see her blinking away tears. The fact that I made her have tears after everything she's been through today just pushes me over the edge. She deserves so much better than whatever it is that I have to offer. The fact that I brought her to tears breaks me, and I don't think I've ever felt this broken inside. The pain in my chest and the need to want to pull her to me is one that I will never be able to explain.
"You made your choice," she says, her voice low. “And I wasn't worth a thirty-second phone call. Instead, I had to find out from Mikaela."
I was wrong before. This right here shatters me. That she would think that she wasn't worth a thirty-second phone call is the dumbest thing she's ever said. "You are worth more than that."