Hidden in Lies (20 page)

“Alright.”

I hear him talking to someone away from the phone in a muffled tone. “Elizabeth, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.” The phone disconnects before I can respond.

“Looks like it’s just you and me until later tonight,” I say to Alex as I slip my phone back into my purse.

“What do you want to do?” His eyes remain on the road.

I give it some thought. What I
want
to do and
should
do are two different things. “Let’s go home and have a drink.”

“WHAT DO YOU
want?” I ask as we walk through the front door.

“I’ll just have a beer.” I walk to the fridge to get a beer for him and a glass of wine for me.

“Here you go.”

“You sure you’re okay? You’re limping.”

“I’m fine, it’s just a little sore.” I wave him off hoping to convince him that it’s not a big deal. Truth be told, it hurts quite a bit and I’m sure it’s going to have a nice bruise. But I don’t want to make him feel bad.

“You’re lying. Do you want me to look at it?” Surprisingly, there’s no flame of desire when he asks this, just concern, worry, and affection. Still, my cheeks redden at the thought of him examining my ass.

“No, I’ll live. I’m just going to run upstairs and change real quick.” Today was definitely out of my element, but it was the most fun I’d had in a while. It would’ve been better if I hadn’t been shot, but it was a neat experience nonetheless. I was able—well, forced—to step out of my comfort zone and I love that Alex made me do it.

Stripping out of my clothes, I walk to the full-length mirror in my bra and thong to get the first glimpse of my wound. A gasp comes out when I take in the red and purple welt marking my skin. “Shit, Elizabeth, I’m so sorry.” I spin around, startled by Alex’s presence and very aware of my half-naked state.

I try to cover my body with my hands, but my attempts are in vain. “Jesus Christ, what are you doing in here?”

He holds up an icepack. “I came up to give this to you. Thought it might help, but now I feel like shit.” His shoulders sag, emphasizing his guilt. “I didn’t realize you’d get hurt like that. I’m so sorry.” Walking closer to me, he cups my face in his hands while searching my eyes. He does this a lot, always looking into my eyes for something. It used to be unnerving, now I find it comforting. The idea that he sees into me, into my soul, a welcomed difference from the passiveness and disregard I receive from Cal.

“I just bruise easily,” I say with a shrug. “It looks worse than it is.” Neither of us speak or break eye contact. Lust and desire slowly cloud over his baby blues as a throbbing pulse starts up in my core. It dawns on me that this is a very bad idea and I’m playing with fire with a bed sitting directly behind me. When we’re locked into each other like this, the sexual current flowing freely, things tend to get out of hand. I don’t trust myself to stop whatever might happen once the first move is made. “Let me finish getting dressed and I’ll join you downstairs, okay?” My voice comes out in a whisper. He nods, but doesn’t let me go. A few moments pass by before he shakes his head infinitesimally as if pulling himself out of his trance. He leans forward and kisses the tip of my nose before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.

I can’t get over the tenderness of what he just did. That kiss was something different. It wasn’t about raw need, passion, or attraction like when we’ve kissed before. This was gentle, kind, and sweet. It may be the exact opposite of what we’ve shared before, but it affects me just the same, maybe even more. When we’re frantic, I could attribute our behavior to lust. But when he does things like that, it makes me feel like I mean more to him, like I’m cherished.

Once I’m downstairs, I find Alex on his trusty barstool drinking his beer. “You love that barstool, don’t you?”

Looking over his shoulder at me, he says, “Huh?”

“It seems like you’re always sitting there. There are more comfortable places to sit in this house.” I lean my hip against the island and grab my wine before taking a sip.

“If I sit here, I have a clear view to the front and back door.” That’s right, he’s working. It’s strange that at times I forget the reason he’s here is to protect me.

“Ah, I see,” I say on a slow nod. “The whole reason you’re here.”

“Maybe at first it was,” he says in a low voice. He looks down at his beer bottle appearing conflicted as he lets those words hang in the air between us. What does he mean by that?

Trying not to analyze what he said, I try for a change of subject. “So, you were really in your element out there today.” I nudge him playfully, causing a grin to turn up the corners of his mouth.

“Eh, I did alright, I guess.” He shrugs, trying to downplay

“Look at you being modest. What happened to the cocky guy I know and love?” The word is out of my mouth before I can take it back. My eyes go wide at the same time his snap to mine. “Well, I didn’t mean—what I meant to say—” I stop stuttering when I hear my cell phone ringing. Oh, thank God. Dashing to my purse to dig it out, my relief floats away when I see Cal’s name flash across the screen. Swiping my finger across the screen, I answer. “Hello?”

“Hello, Elizabeth. I’m calling to let you know I won’t be home tonight. We’re going to be here for a while trying to get this budget bill passed.” My ears perk up when I swear I hear a woman’s voice in the background, but I’m distracted when what he says sinks in. Budget? The fiscal year starts in October. It’s November. Wouldn’t a budget have already been passed?

“I thought budgets were passed before October, it’s mid-November.”

The line goes quiet and I have to check to make sure the call didn’t drop. Finally, he responds. “Not that I have to explain anything to you, but a budget never passed for this fiscal year. It was only an extension. That extension is set to expire in a few days, which means the government will shut down unless we pass something. Is that okay with you?” I hear his restraint with every word he grates out. This isn’t an explanation, it’s a warning. A warning not to ever question him again.

“Yes,” I reply meekly.

“Good. I’ve wasted enough time explaining things to you, and now I’ve got to go.” He hangs up. It’s amazing that Cal is able to ruin a fantastic day in the span on five minutes. I’m deflated, no longer floating on cloud nine. When I return to Alex, he must sense my mood change.

“Everything alright?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it was just Cal telling me he wouldn’t be home tonight.” I slump down on the stool next to him before taking a sip of my wine.

“And that upsets you?” He’s trying to hide it, but he seems a little perturbed thinking my bad mood is because I want Cal home.

“No, that doesn’t upset me at all.”

“Then why the sourpuss?”

Exasperated, I sigh. “Cal was just being Cal.”

“So he was being an ass.” I notice he’s not asking. He’s been around long enough to see how Cal talks to me.

“I guess. Anyway, what were we talking about before he called?” The smirk he gives me shows that he knows I’m trying to change the subject. Luckily, he lets it slide and we go back to talking about his prowess on the paintball field.

“We were just talking about how awesome I was today,” he says smugly. I roll my eyes pretending to be annoyed, but I secretly love this side of him.

“I knew you couldn’t hold it in for long.” My head shakes while a smile spreads across my face.

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a man who knows what he’s good at. I’d be more than happy to show you some other activities I excel at.”

“Alex!” I chastise as I swat his arm.

“What? Cards. I was talking about poker. Geez, get your mind out of the gutter, Elizabeth.” He winks and takes a drag from his beer.

Three glasses of wine in, and I’m starting to feel a buzz. I hardly drink and don’t handle my alcohol very well. I’m not sloppy, but I can get a little loud, and a little honest. Hence why I never drink. Honesty is not the best policy in this house.

“How’s that ass of yours feeling?” Alex asks, amusement lighting up his face.

“Fine.” Standing up, I make my way to the wine rack to open another bottle.

“Yes it is,” I hear him mumble behind me.

Spinning around quickly, I lose my balance and stumble slightly. I place my hand on the counter to steady myself. “Why do you do that?” I’ve wanted to ask this question for a while now, but haven’t had the nerve to say anything. I’ve wondered if he knows the affect his words have on me, and if he does, why does he keep torturing me?

“Do what?” His lips twitch and his eyebrow quirks. He’s enjoying this.

Jerk.

“Flirt with me?” My voice sounds stronger than I feel. The rhythm of my heart accelerates, afraid to hear his answer. What if I’ve misinterpreted everything and now I look like a fool? I’ll die of mortification for sure.

“Is that what I’m doing?” He leans his elbow on the counter, seemingly unaffected by my questioning. While my insides are a mess, he comes off cool and collected. It almost pisses me off that he can appear so unaffected.

“Cut the bullshit, Alex. The comments, the looks, the kissing . . . you know what I’m talking about.” We stare at each other seeing who will break away first. The wine has made me bold, so I’m not backing down.

He lets out a sigh and looks away. “The short answer? I don’t know.” He shrugs.

“And the long answer?” I ask quietly. There’s a long pause, and I’m terrified to hear his answer. Afraid of what it’ll do to me. What it will mean to me.

His eyes find mine again. “I can’t help it. When it comes to you, I feel like a magnet, and no matter how hard I run in the other direction, I’m always pulled back. I fought it in the beginning, reminding myself that I was here to do a job. But then you got me with that damn smile. Not that fake shit you give everyone else, but the one you try to hide. I reasoned that we could be friends and everything would be fine, but that’s a lie. I don’t want to be your friend, and it fucking sucks because you’re married to this douche who doesn’t realize what he has. He doesn’t see the beautiful soul you are, or the brilliant mind you have. He doesn’t cherish and worship you like he should.” He scrubs his hand down his face. I’m not sure if he meant for all of that to come out, but I’m feeling very sober all of a sudden. Then he sends a sucker punch right to my gut. “I could be that guy for you. I
want
to be that guy for you.”

The air leaves my lungs and I’m astonished by his admission. But it could never be. I can’t leave Cal no matter how much I despise his existence. I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes. No, he can’t say stuff like this to me! He can’t show me the light when I know I must stay in the dark. I have to push him away. “No.”

He stands up, walking toward me. “Yes.”

“I’m married, Alex. What we did was a mistake.” He looks as if I’ve just slapped him. “I can’t leave Cal. I won’t leave him.” I assert as much confidence into my words as possible. I hold my head high hoping he believes me.

“A mistake? You can’t lie to me, sweetheart. Your body tells me otherwise. I know you feel this connection between us.” He’s right, dammit. My eyes close on their own accord as my mind thinks of all the things Alex made me feel when we kissed. “See? You’re thinking about it now. We’re good together, Elizabeth.” As if to prove his point, he seals my lips with his. I instantly melt into him. I hate my treacherous body, but, like him, I can’t help it either. There is this invisible pull between us. I tried to ignore it, too.

The first day I met him I was taken by his utter sexiness, and each day after that he’s been slowly getting under my skin. God help me, but I like—no love—the way he makes me feel. But at what cost? Am I willing to throw everything away on the off chance that Alex and I will work out?

No.

Reluctantly, I push him away. When he tries to kiss me again, I turn my head to the side to avoid his lips. “Stop,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to kiss or touch me anymore. I’m a married woman and I took my vows seriously. Please, leave me alone.”

He steps back slowly, staring at me the whole time. “Is that what you really want?” His jaw ticks while he waits for my answer. Every fiber in my being is screaming at me to say no, that’s not what I want.