Beneath His Darkness (Healing Hearts #3) (19 page)

I wonder if she could ever not look stunning.

“Quite the party the boys have thrown, huh?”

My skin prickles and I feel the hair at the back of my neck start to rise.  Why can’t he leave me alone?  I take a sip of my beer, trying to give off the impression that I’m unaffected before I slowly turn to face the only person who can make me feel fear.

“Cammie seems to be enjoying herself,” I reply.  I make sure to keep my tone even, knowing he’s looking for any little thing he can use against me.  “Where’s Emma?”

He normally brings her to work soirees and spends the night showing off his perfect wife.  Doesn’t that speak volumes about Davyd and the control freak he is?  He has the beautiful, timid wife who caters to his every whim.  She comes to all the functions as his picture perfect eye candy.  Everyone sees them as the ideal couple, but no one knows the sick man he is.  They don’t know the fetishes he has or what she allows.  They have a far from seamless marriage.  I’d say they need a tailor, not a shrink.  The thread holding their relationship together isn’t just frayed or snagged, I think it snapped.

“I’m leaving soon to meet her at another gathering, but I didn’t want to miss this.”

The gleam in his eyes tells me he’s enjoying putting me on edge.  Fuck that.  It’s time I pull his balls out of my ass and gain some of my manhood back.  I came here for Cammie and Cammie only.

“If you’ll excuse me, Davyd.”

I leave him standing at the bar, his mouth wide open, I’m sure.  Damn, that felt great.  With a hell of a lot more swagger in my step than I’ve felt in weeks, I head for my friend with her birthday gift.  Eddie and asshat can be pissed all they want, but I’m stealing her away before part of her gift gets ruined.  It might already be.

I cross the floor in long strides, feeling happier by the moment.  Even Tucker noticing my impending arrival does nothing to sully my mood.  Pretty boy can suck a large donkey nut for all I care.

“Gentlemen.”  They both turn and irritation replaces the smiles they had been adorning for everyone else.  “Would you mind if I steal Cammie for just a few minutes?”  Before they can protest and tell me she needs to continue greeting guests I go on to explain, “Her gift is time sensitive.  I promise to bring her right back.”

“Grant, you don’t need their permission, silly,” Cammie laughs from between them, “and you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, I’d be a terrible bestie if I didn’t.”

She laughs again and the two boneheads know they have no choice but to step aside.  They aren’t happy about it, and doesn’t that just add to my joy.

We walk to a table a few feet away where no one else is milling about and I place the box on the table.  She eyes it and the yellow bow before looking at me with a grin.  She starts to raise her hand to the bow, but I stop her by putting my hand over hers.

“Go slow.”  She glares at me and I have to work hard not to chuckle at her.  “You’ll understand.”

She slowly takes the bow off and un-tapes the ribbon.  I watch as she carefully opens the lid to the box and peeks inside.  Her brow furrows in confusion and she glances at me, trying to understand my hesitation in her opening the gift.

I reach into the box, pull it out, grab one of her hands, and wrap it around the travel mug.  Her eyes go wide when she feels the warmth radiating from inside and then, she smiles.

“Is it?”

“A caramel latte from
There’s Something About Joe
.”

She twirls the cup around in her hand for a minute and I wonder if she’s looking at the design.  It’s pink with white daisies all over it.

“Oh my God, Grant!  What is this?”

I snap to attention, half lost in the thought of the cup, trying to figure out what she’s talking about.  I look at her and see she’s pulling off the gift card I taped to the bottom of the mug.

“Two hundred and fifty dollars?”

“Not enough?” I ask.

“Enough?  Grant, this is way too much.  I can’t—”

“Well, I was going to get us BFF, you know, best friend forever matching charm bracelets, but I couldn’t find any in my size.”

“Oh, you shit!  You’re not supposed to make me laugh and want to accept this ginormous gift.  Thank you, you crazy person.”

She jumps from her seat and wraps herself around my neck.  Without a thought, I close my eyes and squish her to my chest.  A million dots of light burst behind my closed lids, breaking up the darkness I’m so accustomed to bathing in, but I can’t seem to care.  I don’t want to call forth the blackness.  I want to dance in the brilliance, bathe in the radiance, and breathe in the purity.  For her, I want to step out of the shadows and embrace happiness.

“Cammie, more guests are arriving.”

Eddie’s voice is like putting your dick into a bucket of ice.  I’d like to put his head in a bucket of ice and leave it there until his lips are too numb to form words.  Fucker.

Cammie unwraps herself from my neck and gives me a smile before shoving her gift card in her jeans pocket.  “Not taking a chance of someone else trying to run away with that bad boy,” she jokes.  “I’ll be talking to Joe.  He needs to get some buttercup mugs.”

I smile at her as she grabs her latte.  She takes a sip as Eddie ushers her back toward the entrance where Tucker is watching me like I’ve thrown acid on everyone here.  He can go fuck himself.  He smirks at me before he turns to greet the next guest.

Here I sit, alone, watching the girl I know I’m falling for, with two men I can’t stand.  Her crack about the buttercup mugs and watching her with them has me thinking of my altercation with Joe and knowing the things he said were right.

“What are you doing back in my shop?”

He’s not screaming this time, so at least we’re not the spectacle of the place, but anger seeps from every word.

“I just need to get a birthday gift, Joe, and then I’ll be on my way.  Is that possible without all the attitude?” I ask, irritated.

“Doubtful, but the quicker I get you what you need, the quicker I get you out of my sight.”

I shake my head at his blatant bad treatment of a customer.  Just because he pissed me off, I stare at the travel mugs for a few extra minutes.  I already know which one I’m going to get, but I want to make him squirm a little.  None of them are what I really want.  I want one with buttercups on it—yellow flowers, at the very least—but the closest he has is white daisies with yellow centers.

“How much can I get put on a gift card?”

He rolls his eyes like I’m stupid and I have to grit my teeth.  Every restaurant, store, café, vendor around here is different.  I don’t assume anymore.

“Can I get two hundred and fifty dollars on one card?”  Let’s try a new approach.

“Oh shit, you actually like this one.”  His face lights up and I know I don’t like this.  Him smiling at me cannot mean anything good.

“I don’t know what you mean and I’m on a time schedule here.  Can you answer the question?”  Why the hell is this the one time a customer doesn’t come through that damn door?

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he sneers.  “You, Grant Andrews, are not the kind of man who can give with all of your heart.  There’s a piece of you that’s missing.  I don’t know if you were even born with all of it.  But the fact that you’re trying…that’s going to be quite the show.  I want to sit front row so I can watch the explosion.  I want to see them scrape up the pieces of you after she sees you for who you are and you get left with nothing.”

“You done now?  I need that gift card and is there any chance you can wash this mug for me and fill it with one of those caramel lattes you’re famous for?  She really likes them.”

I try to pretend his words don’t bother me, but I fear exactly what he’s saying.

“Sure thing.  I don’t normally do that, but I’ll do anything to help you butter her up.  The harder you try, the worse you’ll fall.  It’s what you deserve after Vic.”

I roll my eyes, knowing it’s going to stoke his fire.

“Why her?  What did she ever do to you?”

I sigh and decide to give him a piece of the truth.  “Look at Vic now.  Is she a simple piece of arm candy?  Does the world look at her as Tucker Stavros’ accessory?  No, they don’t, but they did and so did he.  She was better than that and she needed to see it.”

“But you broke her down even more.  You let her believe you loved her and then tossed her aside like trash.”

“I’m sorry for that.  There are reasons and someday I’ll tell her.”

“You harass her on the show.  She tells me what you say to her.  It’s horrendous,” he spits at me.

“I do that shit on purpose,” I growl, low enough for just him to hear.  “I know there is a warrior in that woman and if I have to be the biggest son of a bitch in the world to bring it out of her, I will.  One thing I won’t do is let her go back to being some man’s rug to be walked all over.  Think what you want of me, and you’re probably right, but Vic is better than who she was with Tucker.  Now, get me my fucking order.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just simply nods.  I run my fingers through my hair as he goes to the sink and washes the mug.  My mind races while he prepares the latte for Cammie and I want to kick my own ass for being so damn honest.  I should know better.

He comes back and surprisingly helps me to wrap up the gift.  I thank him, but know we haven’t mended any bridges in this small tying of ribbons and bows.  I can see he has more questions, but I have no more answers to give.  I’ve already said far too much.

As I turn to leave, Joe says, “You may think you were protecting Vic in some sick way, but you broke her.  What you’re doing now, it’s cruel.  That’s what I mean when I say there’s something missing in you.  A normal person wouldn’t handle things this way.  This new girl seems sweet.  You should let her go before you do damage she can’t recover from.  Vic hasn’t recovered.  Don’t do that to someone else.”

I walk out of his shop with a pretty box in my hands and his words hanging heavy on my obviously lacking heart.

My soaring mood from earlier has deflated.  The memory of my conversation with Joe and having my moment with Cammie interrupted has me scowling at the table, without a beer to sulk in.

Cammie is glowing—the belle of the ball.  And instead of enjoying the moment with her, I’m acting like a toddler in the midst of a tantrum.  I’ve got a full pout on and at any second I might throw myself on the floor and begin kicking and screaming.  It’s quite pathetic.

Tucker and Eddie haven’t stopped smiling since she returned to their side and I can’t say I blame them.  Cammie has a presence that brings joy.  I’ve yet to see anyone who isn’t happy around her.

I scan the room and like stones lifted from my chest, I feel like I can breathe easier.  Davyd is nowhere to be seen.  Maybe I lucked out and he left without giving me anymore grief while I was giving Cammie her gift.  I quickly take another gander around the crowd that has grown significantly and there’s no sign of him.

This may turn out to be an okay night after all.

The DJ starts up and the crowd applauds.  Cammie starts mingling and I take the opportunity to grab another beer and mingle as well.  I’ve never been one to mope and tonight won’t be when I start.  I’ve worked hard to create the character this crowd has come to know and…

I wouldn’t call it love.  They used to like me a whole lot, but they’ve been a tad leery of hanging out since the fallout with Tucker.  It could be that I turn into an asshole the second he steps on the set.  I used to cover my disdain for him, but now there’s no reason to.  They seem to think Vic and I ended our affair because she couldn’t continue to hurt him.  Neither of us corrected that.  Maybe that’s why people dislike her so much more than me.  She’s the bitch who stomped on both of us.

If they only knew.

“Eek!  Let’s go, bestie!”  I feel her hands around my waist as her high-pitched squeal assaults my ears.  I was just about to step up to a group to chat.  They look at us with amused grins on their faces.  I turn my attention to her and it becomes abundantly clear that she’s dragging me to the dance floor.

“Ah no.  I don’t dance and trust me, you don’t want me to,” I say loudly, so she’ll hear me over the music.

“Pfft.  Do you hear that?  That’s
Sexy Back.
  You, bestie, have the sexiest back here, and you’re going to shake it with me.  Let’s do this.”

I run my hand over my face, knowing I won’t deny her anything.

Did she just say I have a nice ass?

She let’s go of my waist, but grabs my hand.  I let myself get lost in the heat of her touch until she pulls apart and starts to move.  This is the moment I was dreading.  I cannot dance.  Rhythm is not my problem, but my feet, hips, and arms all seem to move in the wrong direction.  Picture that kid in high school you laughed at for his horrid dancing skills and that’s me, except I know I can’t dance.  Normally, the kid you were laughing at thought he could.

Cammie watches me for a second and starts chuckling.  Great.  I’m worse than I remembered.

“Finally,” she shouts, “someone who dances almost as bad as I do!”  Her smile blasts to my heart and I know I’m never going to be the same now that I’ve had her in my life.  I actually start to pay attention to her and she’s right.  She’s terrible.  Not only does she have no dancing skills, she has no rhythm.  But she’s having a great time.

I take hold of her hand and start spinning her under my arm while her giggles flitter through the air.  Best way to cover bad dancing is to make it look like you’re trying to get fancy, right?  I pull her into me and sway our hips side to side and then push her out to arm’s length before pulling her in again.  Others join us on the floor and suddenly, we have a group of people disco dancing, break dancing, and many other variations of old school dances.  Cammie and I are, by far, the worst dancers in the crowd, but neither of us mind.