Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5) (25 page)

“I’m quitting, Walsh.”

No. “You can’t quit.”

She smiled a little. “I just did.”

“I don’t accept.” He tried reaching her, but the huge-ass instrument stood in the way. “I won’t allow it. You can’t—”

“You’re not the boss of me. That was just a game. It’s over now.”

“What? Why?” Frustrated and suddenly angry, he forked his hands through his hair. “I don’t get it—”

“You will.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m in love with you, Walsh.”

“You’re what?” He jerked back, the sound in his head now like that of dishes breaking.

“And we both know that means I can’t work for you.”

The plates and saucers and cups were still falling in pieces, clattering and crashing, as Honey walked out his door.

The next morning, Walsh fumed, pacing the hallway at MadSci. Unbelievable. Honey didn’t have the courtesy to come to the fucking office and clean out her desk. Even more unbelievable was that she’d actually gone through, apparently, with her threat to quit MadSci.

Quit him.

He checked his watch. At any moment York Featherstone would arrive, and there was no second brain—Honey—to help Walsh run through the details of their deal. She would have made sure he didn’t forget something important. And he and the other man were at a crucial point in their negotiating. It all had to be ironed out today, because York had made clear that he was leaving for Seattle that afternoon. If this didn’t go well, the whole plan could blow up in their faces.

Because he’d not entered into a partnership like this before, Walsh could tell the other man found it frustrating as hell. He understood the feeling.

How the hell could Honey be in love with him?

Pulling out his phone, he called her again. Straight to voicemail. Since he’d already left messages, he shoved the device back into his pocket. His mood turned darker.

Coffee
, he thought suddenly, heading toward the elevators. He’d pick up one for himself and York and maybe pick Melody the barista’s brain. Wasn’t it odd that Honey hadn’t at least stopped by? Called to set up an exit interview?

Phoned him back after the several messages he’d left?

Ten minutes later with two coffees in hand he was only more stymied. Melody didn’t know anything except she’d exchanged texts with Honey the night before—after she’d left Walsh’s it seemed by the timing—and she had agreed to loan the barista a special cake pan she owned. They’d planned she’d hand it over first thing this morning.

It was already past Honey’s usual “first thing.”

Concern began to overtake irritation. But before he could do anything more, York arrived, and Walsh could only show the man into the conference room. They started to flip through paperwork.

Every time someone walked past, Walsh looked up, hoping to see Honey in another of her adorably dowdy suits. But he only caught glimpses of Nancy the receptionist or one of the tech team heading to and from the lunchroom.

“Are you all right?” York inquired as noontime approached.

“Fine. Great.” Walsh made some meaningless notations on a scratch pad, trying to appear as if he had his head in the game.

“I thought I might see Honey here today.”

“No,” Walsh mumbled. “She had something come up.”

Like what?
The more he thought about it, the more he became convinced she would have at least made contact with him. A snippy text with one of those emojis that had its tongue sticking out. She was mad at him because they’d slept together last night, outside of the bubble, but come on, wouldn’t she get over it? A complete radio silence was just not her way.

I’m in love with you, Walsh.

He hadn’t asked for that! He didn’t want that in his life. When he found the woman he’d marry, all he’d ask for was respect and consideration. A mutual interest in the same goals.

Like he’d had with Honey as his admin.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pushed up abruptly from his chair. “Excuse me,” he told York. “I’ll be just a minute.”

Even if it wasn’t Honey on the other end, he needed to get out of those four walls.

It wasn’t Honey.

Walsh pounded the wall of the stairwell with the side of his fist and put the phone to his ear. “What’s up, Payne?”

“Hey, I know you do some outreach with the area high schools, right?”

“Yeah…” He didn’t have time for this, but he’d answered the call. “I go out on Career Days to speak to computer science and physics classes. Why?”

“I don’t want to put off finding replacements for Jeb and Lucy at the salvage yard. I didn’t ask them if they had any suggestions because they had enough on their minds.”

A feeling like a cold hand gripped the back of Walsh’s neck. “What are you talking about?”

“Uh…”

“
Payne!
”

“Geez, settle down. I thought Honey would have told you.”

“Honey hasn’t.” His gut twisted. “Now spill.”

“Well, I guess the Brooks family had a big blow-up at their house late last night.”

“Oh, shit.” She’d gone from his bed to a full-on brouhaha?

“Everyone finally calmed down and sat down. Then Jeb and Lucy’s parents agreed that the twins should go stay with their grandparents who live a couple of hours north. They’ll finish the school year there.”

“Hell.” Walsh heard Honey’s voice in his head.
They’re…they’re all that I have. Before them, no one ever loved me.
“I’ve got to call you back later. Right now I have to track down their big sister.”

“You’ll have to get on the road to do that,” Payne said. “She’s following them in her car to help them settle in. Won’t be back until late this afternoon or this evening.”

Walsh tugged at his hair with his free hand.

“She shouldn’t be alone, damn it.” He knew his admin, and she’d be torn to pieces by this turn of events.
Before them, no one ever loved me.

“Oh, no worries about that,” Payne informed him cheerily. “Brody went with her.”

“Brody?” Fucking
Brody?
That icy hand once again clamped down on his neck. “Half the time he’s lying in the gutter these days. How did this come about?”

“I don’t know exactly. She called him, I think. The twins phoned me this morning and those details are the limit to what I was told.”

Walsh closed his eyes. “All right. If you hear anything else, like how Honey’s doing, make contact, will you?”

“Okay, but you’re sure to get any news first. She’s
your
admin.”

“Not anymore,” he muttered, then ended the call.

There was nothing he could do but take himself back to the conference room. He checked his watch. Nancy had ordered in lunch for about now. They’d be working through the meal, though, to get everything finished by York’s take-off time.

The sandwiches and fruit salad didn’t put him in any better frame of mind. He powered through several fully caffeinated colas in hopes they could help him keep his focus, but the carbonated beverages only served to give him a belly-ache. That then made him think of how Honey must be hurting—her siblings were everything to her.

And what about how he made her hurt, the man who wasn’t interested in her love? He’d enjoyed her body and borrowed her sharp brain, but he’d made clear he was uninterested in her emotions.

Shit! What was
wrong
with her?

Didn’t she realize love messed things up?

York Featherstone’s mouth was moving but Walsh couldn’t make sense of his words. He apparently couldn’t hear, and he could barely breathe. He knew he couldn’t think straight because he seriously wanted to turn this damn conference table over, kick aside the papers and pencils and laptops, and then walk out.

Find Honey.

To explain face-to-face all the trouble she’d wrought with those few ridiculous words.
I’m in love with you, Walsh.

He’d made it to the conference room door before York’s voice penetrated his consciousness.

“Where are you going, Walsh?” The older man looked puzzled and a little pissed-off. “We need to finish this up.”

“Sorry. It’s going to have to wait.”

“
What?
”

Yeah, definitely pissed-off. “Sorry,” Walsh said again.

York half-rose out of his chair. “I thought I explained—”

“If the deal dies, so be it. My admin needs me.”

York’s silver brows rose. “Honey?”

“I’ve got to find her.”

A little smile played around the older man’s mouth, and he settled back in his seat. “Word of advice, son. Persistence pays off.”

Walsh continued out of the room and then out of the building. For some reason that day he’d chosen to drive his new-to-him Karmann Ghia Type 34, the car he’d bought on an odd whim because Honey said she liked the style. But it drove like a dream after Payne had paid it a little attention, and he got to Honey’s neighborhood in short time.

His gaze ran over the well-kept residences as he recalled Honey saying where they lived pointed to their personal differences. She was wrong about that. His penthouse condo had been purchased as an investment—which didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the appeal of this family-friendly area. Thinking of her tucked away in this safe place with its flower pots and nosy neighbors had always pleased him.

But today, the sidewalks stood empty. Honey’s car wasn’t parked in her driveway, but he saw Brody’s on the street nearby. So they’d really escorted the twins and had yet to return. Fine, Walsh decided, pulling in front of her house. He’d wait here until she got home in order to assess her state of mind for himself.

He let himself in with the key on his ring. The front door opened straight into the living room, and he stopped short, his gaze on the disheveled man half-hanging off her short sofa.

Shit! Eating up the floor with quick strides, he leaned over to shake Brody’s shoulder. “What the hell? Why are you here?”

The other man blinked his red-rimmed eyes, showing the bloodshot whites.

“She told me to go into her bed,” he muttered, glancing around. “I didn’t get there?”

“No. And you’re not going to get there.” Walsh shook his shoulder again. “Wake up.”

More mutters and Brody managed to sit up on the cushions. Groaning, he put a hand to his head. “Do you have to be so loud?”

“I thought you were supposed to help Honey get the twins to their grandparents.” Walsh dropped to the coffee table to face the other man.

Brody winced and held up his hand over his eyes. “It’s too bright in here.”

In answer, Walsh jumped up and strode to the windows, tweaking the shutters to let in even more sunlight.

“Sadist,” Brody groaned.

“I’m going to make you my special hangover cocktail next. You don’t want to know what’s in it besides pickle juice, raw eggs, and hot chocolate mix.”

Brody’s complexion paled.

“Green is a good look on you with those blue eyes.” Walsh clapped his hands twice, ignoring the other man’s automatic cringe. “Now, straighten up and tell me what’s going on.”

“Simple. I went out last night…had too much. Was in no shape for a car ride this morning.”

“Fuck, Brody.” Walsh frowned at him, now more ticked off. “You told her to call you if she needed something, and she did. Then you let her down.”

“The thing is…” Brody rubbed his face with his hands. “Last night,
she
needed me, too.”

“She who?”

The other man reached up, finding his phone sitting on the back of the sofa, balanced against the wall. There was a fine tremor to his hands as he manipulated the device. Then a photo bloomed on the screen, and he held it out for Walsh to see.

Oh, holy hell.

A woman was grinning for the camera, but the smile looked drunken around the edges. A slender blonde, she wore a long gown that seemed to be nothing more than flesh-toned stripper mesh and spangles gathered in strategic places. The skirt had a ragged tear up the front that revealed one slim thigh nearly to the crotch. Her hair twisted and turned in a wild tangle and she’d made liberal use of black eyeliner and mascara. Not a little of it was smeared beneath her pale gray, nearly colorless eyes.

She looked both beautiful and somehow tragic.

Oh,
fucking
holy hell.

The good twin had found himself a fallen angel.

Walsh shook his head. He didn’t feel any better when Brody turned the phone around and gazed down at the woman’s image with a tortured expression on his handsome, slightly dissipated face.

Love.

Who wouldn’t want to avoid it altogether?

He stood up, beginning to pace.

“What are you doing here?” Brody asked, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Walsh kept moving. “I heard about the thing with the twins. I know Honey’s got to be upset, so I want to see for myself how she’s doing.”

“Oh.” Brody pulled out his phone again. Frowned down at it. “It’s business hours, right?”

“Yeah.” Walsh walked to the window, stared out at the quiet street.

“Light work day?”

“Huh?” He glanced over his shoulder at the other man. “Uh, no. As a matter of fact…” His voice died off as he thought of what he’d done. “I walked out on a deal,” he said, hardly believing it. “I walked out in the middle of crucial negotiations.”

Brody smiled, and it looked a little sly. “You must have had an important reason, then.”

The most important reason of all
, a little voice said in his head.
The most important woman of all.

Then a certainty welled up from somewhere in his chest to slap his stupid, too-smart brain, which had disguised the truth from him for so damn long.

He was in love with Honey.
My God!
He’d been in love with Honey for…who knew? Since the day they’d met?

But now there could be no more delay, he thought, agitated. He had to find her, hold her, kiss her—get these feelings off his chest.

His gut clenched. What if she never believed him? What if his cynicism had rubbed off on her, and she’d think he was only making this play for business reasons? She’d refuse to take him on—a man who’d never been loved, not really. A man who, for years, had resisted ever feeling that emotion, knowing it would wreak havoc with his control.