Come Undone - A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Novel Read online

  I downed my glass and let the clear, light bubbles send a little flurry of dizziness through me.

  My four-year-old Nicky could play at being a fairy princess –I on the other hand was far too old and too tired to wait for a prince charming anymore. Prince gainfully employed and emotionally stable would suit me just fine.

  Chapter Three – Kat

  On the morning, he cancelled the mini-golf and suggested a quick work lunch date instead.

  The only other people at the restaurant were small groups of businessmen. I took a seat, checked my watch and pretended to be interested in the menu.

  Jeff and I never used to go out anywhere. We’d do a little dance every year my birthday rolled around: he’d say, “this year I’m taking you to a fancy restaurant!” Then when the day rolled around he’d claim to be too tired, but he’d make a big deal out of cooking for me at home instead. But then he’d mess that up, too, and invite me into the kitchen to ‘help’ him. Then something would grab his attention, he’d run off to check his phone or whatever, and soon enough I’d be serving him, on the couch, just like every other night. But then he’d say, “don’t worry, I’ll do the dishes, promise!”

  Every year.

  Every damn year.

  I tried to unknot my eyebrows. That was the past. This was now. And possibly, this man, this cool and calm Anthony Burgess, would be a sweet, sweet balm to smooth over all of that.

  If he was going to be so straightforward and practical about the possibility of a relationship, well, why couldn’t I do the same? Maybe I too should be upfront about all my dealbreakers. For instance, I wasn’t going to nag anyone to clean up after themselves, I wasn’t going to spell out all the reasons why we needed to communicate with one another …and I wasn’t going to settle for oral sex less than once a week, from now until forever. I mean, a girl could ask.

  I snapped the menu closed. Just as I was starting to wonder whether I should worry, he appeared at the entrance, in beige chinos and a golf shirt, looking a little flustered.

  “Kat! My apologies, I’m late. I’ve had a hellish morning …a supplier of mine has really dropped the ball on a delivery that was due earlier today and …oh, I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about all the gory details,” he said quickly, took my hand in his, kissed it, then placed it back in my lap before sitting down at his side of the table.

  Without making eye contact, he picked up the menu, flipped through it, tossed it back down on the table and then had the waiter at his side in a heartbeat.

  We ordered some coffee.

  When I noticed him briefly check his watch, my eyebrows crinkled up again. I had purposefully shifted three of my own appointments this morning to make way for this ‘date’.

  We chatted briefly about this and that, almost leaping over conversation topics like they were obstacles on a showjumping arena.

  While my lips easily slipped over words about Nicky or the weather or how hellish the office was this time of year, there was a secret, more interesting conversation going on inside my head.

  I looked at the muscles and tendons in his neck and tried to imagine him naked. I tried to decide whether I found his little tics and gestures cute or distracting. I noticed the lines on his hands. The modest cotton of his shirt.

  “Well, let’s get straight to it,” he said, and for the first time raised his pale blue eyes to mine.

  I was taken aback.

  It’s not that I found him attractive exactly …but something about the raw frankness he had in his expression caught me completely off-guard. I tore my gaze from his and laughed, distracting myself with the corner of the napkin.

  “Straight to it, huh? I guess this is the third date…” I said teasingly, and looked at him again.

  But his eyes were stony. The smile fell from my face.

  “I’d prefer we didn’t delve into anything vulgar,” he said sharply.

  Vulgar?

  I felt a little flash of embarrassment.

  “Besides, you’re too refined for that kind of thing, Kat. That’s what I appreciate in you. But I understand, you’re nervous. You’re deflecting. It’s a lot that I’ve thrown at you.”

  My head spun. Was this guy for real?

  “Well, yes, I am nervous, actually. I’m just trying to keep things light…” I said. “It’s not every day that I get proposed to by an almost stranger, right?” I said playfully. But this, too, fell flat. He seemed absorbed by the patterns on the tablecloth.

  “Look, Kat, I won’t pretend that it’s not nerve-wracking for me to have been so open with you, so honest…” he said and looked pleadingly at me “…but it’s taken me a long time to realize what I actually want out of life, what’s important to me. It might seem impulsive to you, but please understand that I don’t take any of this lightly, I know what I want, and I know it when I see it. I don’t want to waste either of our time. It’s from respect that I’m forthcoming. Do you understand?”

  “Sure,” I said absentmindedly.

  I wasn’t even married to the guy yet and I already felt chained to him. But he had a point. How much time had I wasted in life? How many wasted years with Jeff could have been avoided if both of us had just been, well …honest?

  “And I …oh gosh, I’ve made this awkward again haven’t I?” he said and all at once, like he’d suddenly just understood a hilarious joke, he burst into a warm smile.

  I laughed as well.

  “Awkward? Oh, you’re awkward as hell…” I said, and soon we were both smiling and all at once, without me knowing how, his hand was on mine. I looked at it resting there, on the starched white tablecloth, then to him, then back at our hands.

  “Kat, I’m a giant doofus when it comes to this dating stuff, I’ve been out of the game for so long that I--”

  “Please, you don’t have to apologize.”

  “Let me finish. I just …I have trouble opening up to others. But there’s something special about you, something…” and here, he stopped short, as though something had choked him off mid-sentence. Then I understood. The guy was petrified. He wasn’t strange or pushy or standoffish. He was just scared.

  I squeezed his hand and smiled at him, feeling a little bubble of regret at having told Lily in detail earlier that morning that I think I maybe hated his chinos.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe women are complete idiots and I actually had Mr. Jackpot sitting right in front of me right now, getting choked up telling me how special I was. I noticed how easy it was to feel flattered.

  “It’s not that I’m not interested, Anthony. Like I’ve said already, it’s just that …it’s so fast. We don’t really know each other. I need time.”

  “Of course. Time. I understand that. Of course.”

  Suddenly he was cool and calm again, and we weren’t smiling anymore.

  “I suppose when Jackie died it was so suddenly, and I got such a strong sense of …well, you never really know how much time you have left, you know? We take it for granted. I took her for granted. So, these days if something feels right, I go with it. Life’s too short.”

  I wondered if I was just imagining a faint crackle at the end of his voice as he finished his sentence. It was the most impassioned I had seen him. What if he wasn’t some stodgy middle aged guy with no personality? What if he was actually incredibly deep and romantic? Who knows, maybe this is what a wild fling looks like in your mid-thirties.

  I sighed loudly.

  “I get that. I really do. But I guess you could say my ex made me feel the opposite… that something feeling right sometimes just isn’t good enough, you know?”

  Just when I was sincerely beginning to wish we’d switch to a less serious topic, his phone rung loudly and interrupted me. He looked massively apologetic and held up a cautious hand to me as he answered, frowning into the phone and exchanging some curt words with the person on the other end. He hung up and smiled warmly at me again.

  “Remember I mentioned about my supplier? The one that left
me hanging this morning and made me late?”

  “I remember.”

  “Well, he’s suddenly crawled out of the woodwork, as it were, and now he’s at the showroom wondering why nobody’s there to take delivery.”

  “Oh no …do you have to go?” I said. Surprising myself, I realized that I actually didn’t want him to. It had taken us almost 30 minutes but I felt like he was just starting to warm up, like there was something definitely interesting just a little way off on the horizon, if we just sat a bit longer and exchanged near glances and nervous looks.

  “I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, I really wanted to spend more time with you this afternoon. Unless…”

  “Unless?”

  “Well, my showroom is just down the road from your office, you’re in that business park on Montgomery, right?”

  “Yeah, same place as the Canadian embassy.”

  “I know it. How about you come with me, I can show you around, we can chat on the drive there? Then I’ll drop you off afterwards?”

  “I’d love to,” I said quickly. “I’d better, just in case you bump into some cute girl on the way there and try to marry her instead!”

  He smiled warmly and I realized that yes, plain as day, I was blushing like a schoolgirl. I didn’t know when my life had turned into a quaint Victorian romance novel but the sun was shining so warmly and he was smiling so sweetly at me it didn’t much seem to matter.

  We settled the bill and walked out to his car.

  It felt a little strange, getting inside. It was spotless, but I could spy the pink ear of a stuffed bunny rabbit behind his seat. I buckled up and took the opportunity to ogle him a little more as we pulled out and he merged with the traffic.

  Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad way of doing things. Start off every relationship with the big question, right out of the gate. And perhaps I could get used to this guy, his quiet manners, gently ironed shirts and secret emotions that flittered under the surface like little fish.

  We drove in comfortable silence.

  The phone rang again.

  “Mark, I’m on my way now, just sit tight, OK? Five minutes.” His milky blue eyes scanned the road calmly as he listened, then hung up.

  “The nerve of the man. Makes me wait and now wants me to come running after him.”

  “Story of my life,” I said.

  “It’s so inconsiderate. Seriously, is it really so difficult to manage your time? I honestly don’t know how some people stay in business.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “The guy does brilliant work, I can’t fault him that. He’s been making furniture for our resorts for more than five years. But the man has zero work ethic.”

  We were approaching the office again. I glanced over at him.

  “Anthony, can I ask you a personal question?” I blurted.

  Without skipping a beat he replied, “you can always ask me whatever you like, no matter what.”

  “Well …do you actually find me attractive? This is not just, you know, this isn’t just an arrangement for you? Are you--”

  To my amazement the car almost instantly came skidding to a halt on the side of the road. He turned off the ignition and looked me square in the eye.

  “Oh god, is that what you think? That I’m just looking for some …arrangement?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled loudly, looking out at the traffic whizzing past the now stationary car.

  “Well, yeah, kind of. It’s just that--”

  “Kat, I’m enormously attracted to you. You’re a beautiful woman. Anyone can see that. I’m an idiot. You …you do know you’re more than that to me, right?”

  My hand was in his again, and my heart was in my throat. I swallowed and tried to avoid eye contact, feeling the blush coming on again. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how I felt about all this. But I think I liked it.

  I looked out over the road and saw a faint wobbling shimmer moving just above the surface of the tarmac. Why not marry him? I didn’t believe in a god, not anymore, but if there was one out there, well, he could send me a sign. He could let me know if I should let this serious, blue-eyed stranger into my life or not.

  He squeezed my hand then released it, and just as quickly as we had stopped we were moving again.

  “I hope you like the showroom,” he said excitedly. “You can tell me what you think of the new cabinets we’ve had made.”

  Chapter Four – Mark

  For all the years I had known Anthony Burgess, we had worked with a tacit agreement between us: I would spare him from having to get his goods from crummy sweatshop suppliers, and in return I got largely free reign when it came to the design. He was my largest commercial buyer but paid like a custom client. It was a good arrangement. Most of the time.

  I squinted my eyes at my watch and waited for him.

  I’d have to get the truck back in less than an hour and I was more than done with him messing me around like this. I had more than six dozen custom made Balinese teak cabinets to offload and a full afternoon ahead of me. I did not need to be waiting like this.

  A white SUV crunched over the gravel and into the far end of the parking lot. He parked, and, to my surprise, stepped out with a tall redhead.

  I raised my sunglasses.

  Yup. Her hair really was that color.

  I watched them both climb out of the car and come to stand in front of it while they looked out over the warehouse. I saw Anthony’s hands gesturing wildly here and there, and the redhead looking around smiling, pale hand shielding her eyes. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could guess. This is where we design each hotel room, right down to the doorknobs. This is where the magic happens. He’d given me the same speech a few times.

  They turned to walk towards me. I lowered my shades and signaled for the workers to start unpacking. Anthony extended a cordial hand and I shook it. We both didn’t feel much in the mood for more than a cursory greeting nod.

  “Mark, this is Miss Lilith, I’m showing her around the premises today.” He gestured proudly towards the woman at his side.

  And what a woman she was.

  Her hair was like polished cherry wood, gleaming pink-red in the afternoon sun. It was almost distractingly beautiful, and it took me a moment to stop gawping and extend my hand for her to shake as well.

  “Mark Cane, pleased to meet you,” I said, and took the small, cool hand she offered me. I gave a friendly laugh and led them both to the truck, chattering away about how the cabinets had all come out perfectly …but she clung to the edges of my vision nevertheless.

  Her almost supernaturally red hair was like a photo negative, like an alien pigment, like I was some kind of insect who had just realized how to see UV light, and she was some jewel colored orchid, humming at some non-human frequency.

  Anthony opened up the main gate and the workers started offloading the cabinets.

  My eyes busied themselves with the task at hand but my mind was still on her. I hopped up onto the back of the truck, strode inside and hoisted up one of the cabinets up onto my shoulders, bringing it down the steps and lowering it to both of their feet. I wiped the sweat from my brow and smiled broadly at them both.

  “Rhodesian teak,” I said. “And you won’t find better quality than that.”

  The woman knelt down in front of the cabinet and traced her white fingers over the intricate carving and reed-work in the door.

  “You did all this?”

  “Yes ma’am,” I laughed. I could see down her shirt.

  Anthony opened and closed the door a few times; satisfied the locking mechanism worked, and then brushed his palm over the counter, giving everything a look over like he knew what the hell he was looking at.

  “They’re beautiful!” she gushed. Two soft mounds of white flesh peeped from the top of her blouse. Beautiful indeed.

  “So you make all the furniture for Anthony’s resorts? That’s amazing. I always thought things like this were made in a factory�
�”

  While she was busy examining the cabinet, I examined her.

  She had high, fragile cheekbones and a little pinched mouth. She was tall, but delicate. She didn’t appear to be wearing a wedding ring. When she finally shot her gaze up at me, the muddy green of her eyes did something strange deep in the pit of my stomach.

  She smiled naughtily and rose to her feet.

  Our eyes were locked. We both smiled at one another like idiots, till she giggled and pulled her gaze away again. There was no question about it. She was the most beguiling woman I had ever seen.

  “Yes, well, Mr. Cane and I have worked together for a long time. I admire his craftsmanship,” said Anthony, trying to catch her eye for himself.

  She stopped smiling now and looked around.

  “Shall we go inside, my dear?” he said. “You should see the office.” He extended his arm to her.

  It was a ridiculous gesture, and she seemed to flinch at the ‘my dear’ part of it. I had always known Anthony to be an uptight workaholic, and had never seen him with anyone since his wife passed. But this woman, she didn’t fit the picture somehow. She wasn’t anyone’s ‘dear’. Her hair was way too red for him, for starters.

  “Of course, that’ll be peachy,” she said.

  We all went inside while the workers hauled the cabinets in.

  “So, you’re a bit like a carpenter,” she asked, smiling sweetly as we walked through the warehouse. “Like Jesus!” Her laugh was electric. I gave her a naughty smile.

  “No, not at all like Jesus…” I said slowly.

  She blushed and let her eyes wonder, but they caught on the crude leather cuff I had on my wrist. I smiled and held it up so she could see it.

  “I don’t think Jesus would make something like this, do you?”