One to Take (Stuart & Mariska): Sexy Cowboy (One to Hold Book 8) (15 page)

My friend studies my reaction. “What now?”

“Now we go shopping,” I say with a nod. “I need new clothes.”

Her slim brows clutch, but she picks up the keys. “I’ll drive.”

We spend the rest of the day at the mall. I buy slim-cut khaki pants and a short-sleeved cotton blouse. I pick up another pair of jeans that are tapered at the ankles and tan heels. A few off-brand polos, a black cardigan, and a boxy purse complete the look. At my apartment are canvas sneakers and black ankle boots I can continue to wear.

“Everything else can be bagged up and donated to Goodwill,” I say, pulling floral tunics and handkerchief skirts off hangers and tossing them into a pile in the center of my bedroom floor.

“You’ve been through a lot.” Kenny sits on the bed eating my leftover Pad Thai. I didn’t eat another bite after last night’s painful discovery. “Maybe you should wait a month or so before you trash it all?”

“I don’t feel comfortable in these clothes anymore. They’re not who I am.”

“Are you still going to find that recipe for Matcha tea smoothies for me?” She picks up the brown journal I left on the floor and opens it.

I’m not paying attention to what she’s doing as I evaluate a black bodysuit. “I’ll keep this. I can wear it with jeans under a blazer.

“Mare?” My best friend’s voice is shaky. “What is this book?”

Realizing what she’s holding, I jump forward and snatch my grandmother’s journal out of her hand. “What are you DOING?”

She blinks fast, and the carton of food is placed on my dresser. “I’m sorry! I thought it was one of your recipe books! I didn’t mean to—”

“You had no right!” My hands tremble as I turn my back to her and throw the journal in that box as hard as I can.

“Is this why…” Her voice is tentative. “Is this why you wanted to cut your hair? Is this why you’re giving all your stuff away?”

“You need to leave. NOW!”

“Mariska!” A swirl of warmth, and she throws her arms around mine, holding me tight. “I’m your best friend. I’m not going anywhere! You’ve got to tell me what this is about!”

My shoulders collapse as my whole body shakes. Dropping down onto the bed, I put my forehead in my hands. “I don’t know,” I cry, breaking down.

I can’t shout at Kenny. I can’t throw her out. I need help.

“I don’t know anything,” I shudder, wiping my face, feeling more lost than ever. “I found that journal and a medical chart in Yaya’s things. I’ve never heard this story before.”

Kenny goes to the box and takes out the book, carrying it to the bed where she sits facing me. “You’ve never seen this?”

“It’s been here all the time, but I guess I never dug that deep.”

Her eyes move to the book again, and she hesitates several moments before continuing. “I’ve heard of things like this—viruses causing symptoms that mimic mental illness.”

“It doesn’t sound like there was any mimicking. It sounds like I had it. Or have it.”

The journal is between us on the bed. Her red lips press together, and she pushes both sides of her hair back at once, the classic Kenny sign of frustration. “Well, you don’t have it now!”

“Don’t I?”

“NO!” Blue fire is in her eyes, and she stares at me with such determination, I almost believe her.

Instead, I shake my head. I remember my dreams. “I have to find this Doctor Endicott and get the whole story. I don’t want a ticking time bomb in my head. I don’t want to go along thinking I’m fine when I’m not.” Inhaling a shaky breath, I speak the horrible truth that drifted through my mind as I sat on the floor with my butchered hair… “It’s probably best I lost the baby. If I’d had post-partum I might have done something. I might have…
Oh, god
—”

“STOP!” She’s on her knees now, holding my hands. “You would not have done anything! You would have been the best mother.” Pulling me to her chest, we hug each other as my fear returns. “You’ve had a traumatic experience, and you’re grieving. This journal is scary, but it is not you. We’re starting grad school in a few weeks, and we’re going to do what we always said we would. We’re going to get our degrees, and we’re going to get teaching jobs at the same school.”

“Maybe,” I say softly. I can go back to school, and I can continue working. I can get my degree and my teaching certificate, but I can’t go back to how I was without answers. I can’t risk having a family. That part hurts me the most.

Her phone buzzes with a text, and she picks it up. “Slayde,” she says, touching the screen. “Do you want me to spend the night? We both have to work tomorrow.”

Shaking my head. “I’ve managed to hold it together this far. I’ll be okay. I don’t want Slayde mad at me.”

Her blue eyes narrow, and she stands. “No more haircuts. Call me first.”

“Okay,” I say, watching her pull on a black hoodie. “I’ll eat something, read a book, and go to bed. No haircuts.”

She nods and steps forward to hug me. “I’ll ask Slayde to track down this Doctor Endicott. If the guy was in Bayville, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.”

“Just don’t… please don’t tell him what it’s about.”

Her blue eyes fill with emotion. “Oh, Mare.” Our hands are clasped, and she gives mine a squeeze. “You forget. I knew your grandmother. I know how much she loved you. She was certain you had a gift.” Releasing my hands, I follow her to the door as she continues. “And why not? You were right about Slayde. You were right about Stuart. You’re sensitive to people’s needs. Is that too much to believe?”

Stuart
… Speaking from my heart, I say the thoughts that have been swirling in my head since I returned from Montana. “I’m not sure what I believe.”

N
ikki is
behind the front desk when I arrive at the Princeton office Monday morning. Her eyes go wide, and she lets out a little shriek, hopping out of her chair and circling the reception desk. She stops in front of it, in front of me, wringing her hands as if she wants to give me a hug but is unsure whether it’s allowed.

“I didn’t think you’d be back!” Her voice is breathless, and I notice her usual too-tight wrap dress has been replaced with tight pants and a long sweater.

“Derek and I are discussing how long I’ll stay,” I say, noncommittal. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

Nikki and I had a one-night stand years ago. It was a stupid mistake on my part at a time when I thought I was returning to Saudi for a very long time, possibly forever. Needless to say, it put a strain on our office relationship and caused some friction between her and me and Mariska. Supposedly it’s all behind us now.

“I’m here working with Slayde. He’s running the satellite office here.”

“Right,” I say with a nod.

Slayde Bennett is a young guy Derek hired to help with research and surveillance. He’s a good worker, from what I understand. Thorough. He’s also the boyfriend of Mariska’s best friend Kenny.

“Is Slayde here?” I look around the office, but Nikki shakes her platinum-blonde head.

“He’s out today, had a meeting with some doctor in Bayville.” My brow lines at the mention of that familiar location, but she quickly adds. “I don’t think it’s anything serious.” Motioning toward the back office, she leads the way. “Your things are still in Derek’s old office.”

“I’m not planning to stay long.” I follow her, looking away from her ass. I only want one ass… “I just stopped in to make a phone call then I’m headed to the condo.”

“I’ll leave you alone then.” She stops at the door and smiles. “It’s great to have you back.”

I only nod in response, and she closes the sleek wooden door. The entire office is dark wood, glass, and stainless steel accents. It’s all very masculine and professional. Going behind the enormous desk, I experience all the same sensations as the last time I stood here in an expensive suit looking out the window of this office. My shoulders are tense, and my thoughts fly to a place far from here.

The phone cuts through my discomfort, and I reach out to touch the button for speakerphone. “Stuart Knight,” I say.

“Let me guess, you’re already searching for a reason to leave.” Derek’s voice is a good, familiar sound, and he’s exactly right about how I feel.

I have to laugh. “You got me.”

“At least knowing your ass this long has some perks. I confess I was surprised when you said you were coming back. I thought Montana had won this time. What happened?”

Exhaling, I drop into the soft leather chair. “Too much to go into here, brother. I’ll have to tell you another day.”

“Over scotch at Mediterra. I’ll drive up tomorrow.”

Derek relocated to North Carolina when he and Melissa got married. So did my little brother with his wife Elaine, who was already living there.

“Anything pressing you need me to handle?”

“Not really. Slayde does a great job handling our business in Princeton. I’ll go through my files and see if there’s anything that might interest you. We can chat about it all tomorrow evening.”

“Sounds good.” I hit the button to end our call. I take a moment to look over the files sitting out on the desk.

Alexander-Knight LLC specializes in online security for several of the largest banks in the country. It’s all about keeping the hackers out and maintaining online security. We get notices of threats pretty regularly, which we do our best to follow in the hopes of arresting minor criminals before they commit major crimes. It’s good work, but to me, it’s as boring as hell.

I flip through a few documents, open a few windows on the computer. From what I can tell, nothing is outstanding. Shutting the computer down, I collect my keys and head out the door.

Back a month with no sign of an engagement ring is all the encouragement Pete needs to start leaving me little gifts again. The first was a beaded hemp bracelet wrapped in purple tissue.

Kenny had pulled it out of my cubby and tried it on her wrist. “Here we go again,” she muttered under her breath.

My eyes flashed out to the gym where my constant admirer was working with a retiree. “Stop, he’ll hear you.”

“He’s fifty feet away!”

“He’ll know you’re talking about him if you’re holding his gift.” She rolled her eyes and stuffed my gift back in my cubby.

Now, following my new haircut and new clothes, the gifts are preppier. Kenny leans on the counter looking at the latest addition, a slim phone case. It’s white with gold stripes and has my initials in a circle on the back.

“Can I be Pete’s forever love next?” she teases. “I need a new phone case.”

I straighten when he walks up beside her. “Hey, Mare.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans forward, flexing his triceps. “Would you mind mixing up a cinnamon bun smoothie for me?”

Blinking away, I dump dark green powder in the mixer and reach for the canister of protein. “It’ll be a second. I’m making Kenny’s Matcha tea, and I’ll need to wash everything so it doesn’t taste weird.”

“You’re the best.” He smiles and steps back dropping his chin and grinning up through his eyebrows. “Sorry for the extra work.”

Kenny exhales a groan. “She has to wash the blender anyway.”

Cutting my eyes at her, I empty half a cup of ice and hit the button. The loud whirr prevents any more discussion, but Pete gives me a wink. His eyes are bright blue, and when he grins that way, a dimple shows on his cheek. He’s actually a great guy. My heart’s just never been in it.

Releasing the button, I grab Kenny’s insulated cup and dump it in, passing the drink to her.

“Cinnamon bun…” I say flipping through my notebook, quickly passing the sketch that always shreds my insides.

“Thanks,” he says, waiting. Kenny is still with us sipping and watching. I can’t tell if he’s waiting for her to leave. I’m silently praying she stays.

“So anyway,” he says with an exhale, looking from my best friend to me. “You know the Cay is still open. Tuesday is ladies’ night. Want to ride over with me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I…” My mind scrambles, and I look to Kenny for help. “I have to go to this… thing.”

“Come on,” Pete says, reaching across the counter and patting my hand. “It’s just a drink. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“But I promised Kenny—”

“It’s okay!” She straightens, smiling. “You can meet Slayde and me there.”

My mouth drops, but I close it fast. If she were on the other side of the bar, I would have kicked her hard.

Pete turns to her grinning. “You’re going to the Cay tonight? Awesome!” Looking at me, he does a little finger gun. “I’ll pick you up at eight. I know it’s a work night, so we don’t have to stay late.”

“Sounds like fun,” I say, jerking the glass mixer off its base and carrying it to the sink. With my back turned, I press my lips into a frown. I can’t believe Kenny tricked me like that. At least she and Slayde will be there.

The space is an upscale dance club in Bayville that’s all brass hardware and red vinyl everything. It still shines like a penny, and defying our initial predictions that it would close in a year, it’s actually buzzing with activity for a Tuesday night. I can’t believe I’m here.

Pete holds my arm as we enter. I’m pretty conservative in a black shift dress that stops mid-thigh. It has a skinny brown-leather belt at the waist, and I wore my matching booties. I almost just wore my khaki pants and a shirt, but ultimately I decided it is a dance club. I should wear a dress even if dancing is the last thing I feel like doing. I’m thankful for the switch, otherwise Pete and I would have looked like twins.

“What can I get you?” He leans forward and speaks in my ear over the loud thumping of the bass.

“Tequila Sunrise,” I shout, scanning the crowd for our friends. I know they’re here because I texted Kenny from the car.

Finally I spot them. Kenny is wearing a filmy red dress that’s thigh-high and has spaghetti straps. Slayde is in his usual jeans and black tank, leaving his muscled arms and ink on full display. I watch a moment as he smooths his hand down her arm. My best friend leans in and kisses him lightly on the lips, and I try not to ache for Stuart.

When she sees me, she waves and skips over on mile-high black stilettos. “Hey! Hey!” She dances up and gives me a hug.

Slayde follows at a slower pace. Once he reaches us, he squeezes my shoulder. “Hey, girl, you ready for tomorrow?”

“I think so. Thanks.” I nod as Pete hands me my drink and take a long pull hoping the alcohol will ease my racing nerves.

Slayde and I have been working on finding the doctor who diagnosed and treated me all those years ago, and he’s pretty sure he has the right guy. Tomorrow afternoon, we’re headed to his office in Seaside Park to try and get some answers.

“I’ll pick you up at one,” he shouts as a David Guetta song blasts through the air.

“My jam!” Kenny squeals, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the dance floor.

Her red dress shimmers around her upper thighs, and her deep purple hair swishes in long whips with her movements.

“I have to confess…” Kenny starts. We’re back to back then we turn and face each other for a little shimmy in time with the music. “As much as I miss the old Mariska, I love your new look.
Tres chic
.”

I shake my head, letting my new haircut bounce around my cheekbones. “I feel like I’m in disguise. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Her dark brows pull together, and she does a little frown. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Shrugging, I raise my eyebrows and take another long sip of tequila. “I don’t see how I could feel any other way.”
After all I’ve lost.

Her purple head tilts to the side. “Still, I hope you’re looking for answers and not giving up on finding them.”

“I’m not looking for anything.” My voice sounds strangely cold to me, but it’s the truth. These past few weeks have taught me nothing is guaranteed. I’m not holding onto anything anymore.

We’re at the edge of the enormous dance floor in the center of the bar. A disco ball sends showers of speckled lights all around us, and strobes bounce off every shiny thing. A spray of fake smoke filters around our feet, and girls dressed in fringe twist and churn in dancer cages at the four corners.

A second level houses rows of red-vinyl booths with small tables leading to balconies where patrons can look down on us from above. It’s impressively posh, and it’s steadily filling with Ocean County singles.

We’re in the middle of a crowd of dancers, and they’re all moving and swaying to the beat when I notice a few girls to the right of us by the bar pulling each other’s arms and pointing. One starts to giggle and covers her mouth, and curiosity gets the better of me.

Turning my head, I look for whatever has them so excited. Two men, impressively tall and very well dressed are standing across the bar. Looking closer, I realize Slayde is talking to one of them. Pete is standing beside him looking a mixture of disgusted and uncomfortable.

My throat tightens as I watch them start to walk in our direction. When the tall man steps out of the shadows, I stop dancing. I’m standing on the dance floor facing Stuart.

My heart clenches, and my stomach cramps. I can’t decide which way I want to run—to him or out the door. He studies me for several moments, and I see all the emotions warring in my chest reflected in his eyes.

He’s my man.

He’s not my man.

I need to go to him.

I need to stay away from him.

What is he doing here???

Kenny stops dancing when she sees where I’m looking, and I feel her hand clasp mine. “Are you okay?”

I can’t answer her. I can’t move as Stuart Knight begins moving toward me. Dancing couples part before him like the Red Sea before Moses, and in my peripheral vision, I notice Pete is coming toward me from a different angle.

Stuart arrives first, and for a moment we’re suspended in time so close we could touch each other. My skin is humming, and my head feels light.

“You’ve changed your hair.” His voice is like warm liquid spilling through my insides. I almost close my eyes. Almost.

“I’ve changed a lot of things.” I’m shocked at how calm my voice sounds. My heart is thumping all around in my chest.

“Not everything, I hope.” He smiles, revealing those straight white teeth. My thumb itches to touch his chin.

“I wouldn’t even know how to begin to answer that.”

Another song starts up, and the dancers around us close the gap, twisting and turning to the music.

Pete’s at my side, and I feel him touch my arm. “Is he bothering you?” he shouts over the noise, but I can’t look away from Stuart.

I notice Kenny at my side, taking his arm. “Come on, tough guy,” she says. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

A dancer bumps into me, sending me straight into Stuart’s chest. A wave of cedar-tinged Stuart-smell assaults my senses, and I exhale a little noise. Thankfully, it’s lost in the music. Oh, god, how I’ve missed his scent.

“Can we go somewhere else?” Our faces are so close, and his smoky hazel eyes brim with… something. “Away from the noise?”

I’m afraid to be alone with him. I don’t know if I’m strong enough yet. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be strong enough to tell him to go to hell. I don’t even know if that’s what I want to say. Still, with all we’ve been through and all I’ve learned, I can’t be the person I was before.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

He glances down, and my eyes run all over his face. His hair is longer than he usually wears it. It ends in shaggy curls around his ears. His face is lined and tired, and his body is lean again, like it was when we were first together when he was fighting the drugs.

“You’ve been working.”

“Trying to kill the pain.” His voice is rough, and it moves something inside me.

“The stairs in the back lead down to the beach.” I point in the direction of the DJ booth. “We can walk along the shore if you want.”