“Well… I-I…” He sounds as if he doesn’t like it and is looking for a logical reason to dislodge me from Britta’s place. “It’s almost nine thirty. Isn’t Jamie in bed?”
“Yep. Now I’m just hanging out in case he has nightmares. I put Britta in the master bedroom so that if he starts screaming, she won’t hear. The doctor told her to get plenty of rest. I’m making sure she gets it.”
“If I had known she was truly that sick, I would have taken care of her.”
Who is he lying to, me or himself?
“Sure. I’m going to sleep now,” I brush him off. I just can’t talk to this dude anymore. “In the morning, I’ll tell Britta you called.”
“You’re staying the night there?”
He hadn’t gotten that picture yet? I try not to sigh. “Yeah. In the room next to Jamie’s. I’m there when he needs me.”
“Oh. Well. Yeah, if she’s really that sick. All right. I’ll…um, see them tomorrow.”
Hopefully not. “Bye.”
I hang up before Makaio can say another word. He’s an ass and I don’t like him. And yes, I’m jealous as hell knowing that Britta has had sex with him. I can’t admonish her for having a life after I left her. I’ve had plenty since our split. Doesn’t mean I like it.
It does mean I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure the rest of her life is with me.
Tomorrow, if she feels better, it’s so on.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday afternoon, Maxon and I are conferring in his office. I swiped the carseat from Britta’s car, and daycare allowed me to drop Jamie off with a phone call from his mother. But I have no idea how I’ll pick him up again at the end of the day. I’ll have to work that out with Britta soon, but for now I refrain from calling to check on her in case she’s asleep.
“I have a hunch who our potential buyer might be,” my brother says, barging into my thoughts.
“For the Stowe estate?” At his nod, I shrug. “Let me have your brilliant speculation.”
“Well, the buyer’s representative said she was previewing for a wealthy, high-profile client who’s been living in Dallas, but he wants to return to his home state and is looking for privacy.”
This is the first I’m hearing of this conversation, but immediately one name springs to mind. “Noah Weston.”
“Yes. Exactly. He just retired from the NFL.”
“Hall-of-Famer, for sure.” I nod. “You’re right. He’s originally from Honolulu, isn’t he? But he’s been playing in Dallas for most of his career. The guy gets hounded by the press everywhere he goes, so naturally he would want privacy.”
“And I doubt money is an object,” Maxon drawls. “Holy shit. I always wanted to sell this place, but to a guy like Weston?”
“The cherry on top,” I agree. “Any chance he’s coming along to view the house, too?”
My brother shakes his head. “His rep is flying out alone next week. She’ll let us know exactly when. But apparently, her client just sold his house in Texas and will be ready to make the move quickly. I know the Stowes are eager to unload this place. If the rep likes the property…this might work out.”
I’m salivating at the thought. “Hot damn. I’d like the paycheck. And I’d love to meet that guy.”
“Me, too. Both would be epic.”
We meet celebrities from time to time when they decide Maui would be a great place to keep a getaway. But… “Noah Weston is a man’s man and a stud on the field. From what I hear, he’s not a douchebag off the field, either.”
“Right? He seems cool.”
I laugh. “We sound a little like fan girls at a Bieber concert.”
“Yeah.” Maxon grins. “Good thing Rob took the day off. He, like, worships the guy. He’d be leg humping us for even the suggestion that he might get to meet Weston someday.”
“Watch…” I say cynically. “This buyer will be some old oil executive who’s had enough of corporate life and wants his slice of paradise.”
Maxon chuckles in return. “You’re probably right.”
A noise at the office door has me whirling around. I’m stunned to see Britta coming in. She’s wearing black yoga pants, a tank top with a Shaka sign that reads HANG LOOSE, and some flip-flops. Her hair is in a ponytail. Her face is white as a sheet, except her nose, which looks red from blowing it.
I jump to my feet and rush over to her. She looks even frailer up close, and it’s all I can do not to put my arms around her. “What are you doing here, angel?”
She won’t meet my gaze. “Just grabbing some work to take home and Jamie’s carseat before I pick him up.”
“I would have brought it and him out to you.” If she’d let me. I frown her way. “You should be in bed.”
“I feel a lot better this afternoon. I couldn’t lie around anymore. And you don’t need to make another trip out to the house. I appreciate everything you did, but I’ve got it under control now.”
“It was my pleasure,” I assure her. “I’m happy to spend the evening with you two tonight. I’ll cook something more exciting—”
“Makaio is back.”
And she let him in. After he failed to take care of her? After he left Jamie to get sick because he didn’t want germs? Yep, I see she’s wearing her engagement ring again.
Goddamn it.
“Can I see Jamie this weekend?” I won’t last a whole weekend without him, and when I visit, Britta will have to see me, too. Maybe she’ll remember how good it felt to spend time together over the last few days and decide that Banker Butthole isn’t for her.
“I don’t think that’s going to work out.” She swallows nervously. “Iolana, Makaio’s sister, is going to keep him this weekend. Um…Makaio wants to take me away since we missed Valentine’s Day.”
I see red.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her if the way I took care of her and Jamie over the last two days mattered at all. I can’t, even if I think it did mean something to her. That’s why she won’t quite look at me. She feels guilty. But the bottom line is, she’s still engaged to Makaio Kale. Until that’s off, she’s going to choose him every time.
“Am I supposed to be happy?” It’s kind of a dick reply. Since I’m feeling like a deeply pissed-off dick, it fits. “I love you and he’s not right for you.”
She flinches. “That’s not your decision.”
“I think you still have feelings for me.”
“You’re wrong.” Now her voice is shaking, like she’s more nervous than before.
“So what did that kiss on your bed mean, Britta? What was that about?”
“You confused me for a few minutes. But I’m going to marry the man who, despite whatever conclusion you’ve drawn from these last few days, will stay with me.”
I grit my teeth and hold in my temper. The old me would have blown up and walked off, waited for her to apologize. And if she didn’t, I’d have needled her until she did because her words hurt me. The me now acknowledges that I shredded her heart and put her through hell. Just walking back into her life because I claim to be a good guy who’s gotten my shit together now is unreasonable.
But, fuck, my patience is wearing thin.
“Tell me something I can do to prove I’ll never leave you again. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
She shakes her head. “He came to see me after his presentation this morning, took off work to check on me. We talked.” She draws in a shaky breath. “He wants to get married on April fifteenth. I agreed.”
Her words seize the air from my lungs, then take a sledgehammer to my heart. “Of this year?”
“In eight weeks. Yes.”