Hotshot (36 page)

Sasha has made several snide comments, referencing the status of my relationship with Bizzy. She thinks she won by chasing her off. It’s written all over her face every time I see her. Her self-righteous attitude is driving me insane. It’s all I can do not to lash out and tell her she’s wrong, but then I think about my son.

I’m not stupid nor blind. Sasha’s trying to worm her way into my personal life. She’s hinted for weeks about being invited on my boat and attending football games with my family. It’s hard to hold my tongue, but I remain quiet, which fuels her excitement.

I’ve turned into that guy… the one who seems spineless, never speaking up or arguing.

When I look in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. The man I was, living with Bizzy in Charlotte, seems like a ghost. All the memories are fading quickly as my days are filled with work and endless calls from Sasha, requesting something else absurd. Each time, I falter, agreeing.

God, Bizzy. I miss her so much it physically hurts. Will she ever forgive me? Can I even ask her to?

I glance at my watch and force myself to stand, knowing I’m already late. The familiar pain in my chest returns as I think about doing this without Bizzy.

Every year, our families, along with a few other volunteers, hand out presents on Christmas Eve to the kids on the oncology floor. It’s a tradition, a tradition Bizzy never misses. Until this year.

“You’re going to be late.”

I jerk my head to see Claire standing in my doorway, along with my mom. Both their expressions are full of worry and concern.

“What are y’all doing here?” I look past them at the darkened office. Everyone went home hours ago.

“We need to talk.” Claire barges in and stops when she hits my desk, leaning in and glaring. “Are you going to make this right?”

“I assume you mean Bizzy?”

“No, you fucking dumbass, I mean world hunger. Of course I mean Bizzy!” She shoots my mom an apologetic look, which earns her a shrug.

“Yes, I don’t know how, but I am.” I point to the ticket on my desk. “I’ve been planning on flying into Charlotte tomorrow. I need to see her, talk to her, try and explain. I’m walking a very tight rope right now. Bizzy doesn’t need to be in the crossfire.”

“You don’t give her much credit. After all you’ve put her through, you’d think this shit would be over.”

“That’s why I’m treading lightly. I think I finally understand what everyone has been saying. My life is changing. Can I bring her down with me?”

“Crenshaw Bennett,” my mom walks straight to me and puts her hands on my shoulders, “you’ve really taken our conversation out of context. I had no idea you’d shut Lizbeth out. How could you?”

I’m too ashamed to tell her everything I’ve been thinking.

“Honey, tell me this. Do you still love her?”

“So much it hurts.”

“What about your son?”

“More than I ever knew was possible.”

“So tell her. She’s not an idiot, Shaw. She knew this was coming. She tried to explain this, but you were so focused on other things that you ignored her warnings.”

“Well, whatever shit is going through your head needs to get cleared up quick. I don’t like the fact that she’s spending Christmas alone. More than that, things are changing in Charlotte, and if you stand a chance in hell, you’d better clean up your act immediately,” Claire seethes.

“What do you mean?”

“Bizzy was asked to stay.”

My heart sinks, but I know how much she loves her position. It’s the only positive thing she tells me about when we speak. “Maybe it’s for the best. Stay for a little longer. I’ll straighten my shit up here.”

“No, you dimwit asshole! She’s been given an offer to stay, as in permanently!”

My heart starts to race, and I fight to clear the spots clouding my vision.

“Bullfuckingshit! She’s not leaving Miami! There’s no way she’s staying in Charlotte!”

“Well, stop being a pansy ass and go get her. I’ll never, ever forgive you if she stays up there.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll have her ass back in Miami if I have to drag her kicking and screaming!” I gather my laptop and barely hear the women through the roaring in my head.

Their chatter is ridiculous, and I snap back to reality.

The Shaw Bennett of the last month disappears when faced with losing the love of my life. I pick up the phone to call Gail then remember it’s Christmas Eve and I really am a bastard. Driving to Charlotte will take too long.

“Gail’s already approved the company jet, and it’s waiting.” Mom giggles through her excitement, reading my mind.

“Great.”

“You need to go.” Claire’s still angry.

So I do the only thing I know to try and get in her good graces. I dig the ring box out of my pocket and toss it to her. She catches it easily and pops it open, and her eyes grow wide then focus on me.

“There hasn’t been a day I haven’t looked at that ring and wished it was on her finger.”

“Well, you’d better be prepared to grovel.”

Her words hit me square in the chest, and I think about Bizzy, my confidence growing.

“I don’t grovel… I persuade.” I wink and yank the box out of her hand, kissing my mom on the cheek and rushing past them. I stop in the doorway and turn, focusing directly on my mom.

“Mom—”

“Get your ass out of here. It won’t be Christmas without you, but the end result will be worth it. Although, you may want to call Bizzy’s parents on the way to the airport. They’re very confused. I’ll handle your dad and brothers.”

“Love You!” I shout and race to the elevator, feeling excitement for the first time in forever. The energy and buzz flows through my veins, and I think about my beautiful girl.

“Crenshaw Bennett!” my mom calls.

“Yes?” I whirl around to see her glaring at me seriously.

“Don’t you come back here without her, and don’t you dare get married up there. I know you and how your mind works. I’ll never forgive you if I don’t get—”

“Got it, Mom!” I shout, cutting her off.

Oh yeah, this is going to be fun. Bizzy has every right to fight me… and I hope she does. I hope she fights like a wildcat, because I expect nothing less.

The minute I let myself into the apartment, I feel relief. It smells like Bizzy, Claire, and evergreen. I look at the enormous Christmas tree in the living room and make another mental note to thank Nick. It’s perfect.

She’ll be home in an hour. That’s not nearly enough time, but it’ll have to do, so I get to work.

I drop my only bag—my laptop—in the sunroom and start the preparations. Several times, I grit my teeth and have to text Claire, but she turns into my saving grace. Finally, it all looks perfect, and the only thing I need to do is find the words.

The key in the lock turns, and I brace myself, ready for any response, as I stand next to the lighted Christmas tree.

“Shaw, I know it’s a little late, but I’d love to hear about the gift exchange. No one is answering their phones. It’s worrying me. If you can’t call, I understand, but maybe text me? Let me know things are okay?”

She drops her phone on the counter, still unaware of my presence, and I soak in the vision of her.

I’m an asshole.

I’m a dipshit.

I’m everything Claire thinks of me…

But I’m also a man in complete love with this beauty in front of me.

“No need to worry, I asked them not to answer,” I say quietly, hoping not to scare her.

She jumps back, falling against the door. “SHAW!!!” she screams so loudly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors heard her. Her hand flies to her chest, her breath coming in pants. Her eyes move wildly around the room, taking in the flickering candles and the glowing tree. When they land back on mine, she lets out a tortuous sob.

I go to her, dropping to my knees, and yank her into me. She feels smaller in my arms, but it doesn’t stop the familiarity and warmth flooding through my body. My head drops to the curve of her neck and I inhale deeply, smelling limes, coconut, and citrus. The constant ache that’s been consuming me starts to disappear.

She trembles against my body, still in shock, and I can’t stop myself from kissing every inch of skin my lips can touch.

“What are you doing here?” There’s a quiver in her voice that stops me cold.

I lean back and swallow the lump in my throat when I meet her eyes. The vibrant glow is gone. Her beautiful, icy blue-grey eyes are flat, dull, and swimming in pain.

“I got a really long overdue kick in the ass and woke up. I’m here to claim what’s mine. After tonight, there will be no room for uncertainty when it comes to us. I promised you that once, and I monumentally failed.”

I see her confusion and a spark of anger. She opens her mouth, but I move quickly, sealing my lips over hers and threading my fingers through her hair. She resists at first then fists my shirt and swirls her tongue against mine. Our mouths move desperately together, both of us fighting for control.

My head screams at me to slow down, cherish her, worship each taste, but desire takes over. “Mine,” I growl into her mouth and tilt her head gently, taking control possessively.

She whimpers and moans, driving me harder. My body comes alive with need.

Her hands unclench and travel up my chest and neck then cup my cheeks, her finger gripping at my beard. I make a move to lean us back and she freezes.

“Stop!” she chokes out against my mouth and physically breaks us apart.

Neither of us moves for a few minutes; the only sound is us trying to get our breathing under control. She drops her head to her chest for a spilt-second before raising her face back to mine.

“What exactly does all that mean? Swift kick in the ass? Claiming what’s yours?”

“Claire told me about the job offer, opened my eyes to how close I am to losing you for good. I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that.”

Her eyes narrow into slits, the air in the room turning ice cold. She leaps up, shoving me hard on my ass, and stalks to the living room. When she turns back to me, I barely stumble to my feet.

That spark of anger from a few minutes ago turns into an inferno. “Let me get this straight. You’ve blown me off for over a month, after leaving here the day before my birthday with promises to return. Twenty-four hours later, you basically shut me out. Months of promises of love, futures, and life-long commitments disintegrated into ashes. I’m forced to deal with scraps of time you threw me late at night or early in the morning, which never really amounted to more than a casual conversation that felt like strangers.”

Her hands fly through the air as she shouts, fury radiating with each word. I know I should feel terrible. I should drop back to my knees and worship at her feet, but instead, the blood starts to sizzle through my veins, energizing me. This is what I wanted. I imagined nothing less from her.

“I’ve asked you, begged you to talk to me. I’ve been available for any measly scrap of attention you’d throw my way, telling myself you were going through a tough time. I berated myself to the point of being sick because of the loneliness, all the while trying to be supportive and give you time to come to terms. Every minute you were with Sasha, I questioned whether it would be the day she finally got her claws in you, and I was only a memory. Nicky told me to give you time when I was at the point of giving up. So I did, because I love you that much.

“You knew I was alone on Christmas. You know how much this holiday means to me, yet you never offered to be with me. Out of nowhere, you sneak your way back, in the middle of the night, because you hear I have a job offer? The most lucrative and exciting job offer of my career, I might add, and say you’re CLAIMING ME!?!”

That’s all it takes, and I’m moving. She doesn’t have time to turn and run before I haul her over my shoulder. She struggles, beating my lower back, shouting obscenities then squeals in a high-pitched voice as she flies through the air and lands on the sofa. She scrambles to move, but I’m quicker, pinning her arms above her head and her lower body between my knees.

Her eyes lock with mine, burning in defiance. She kicks and squirms beneath me, fighting hard. I have to struggle to keep hold of her arms while fighting my own battle to control my now raging hard-on. There’s no doubt she’ll deck me for the timing.