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The dainty little ankle bracelet he had bought her while they were dating graced her ankle. She smiled with a mocking little twist of her lips as she clasped a silver necklace around her neck, and attached the silver armband to her upper arm that he had bought her just before the son of a bitch “died.”
“Bastard,” she muttered. “Has to leave to sort some things out, does he? Screw it.”
It wasn’t like she had asked him for the truth. She’d asked if he was staying. That wasn’t uncalled-for. It wasn’t wrong and it sure as hell wasn’t pressure. He was her husband.
She stared at the gold wedding band she had taken off only months before. She had to blink back her tears as she picked it up, stared at it. Inside, go síoraí had been engraved. Celtic for “forever.” She had finally looked it up. It meant “forever.” His vow to her.
“Forever didn’t last long enough.” But she slid the ring on the ring finger of her right hand.
She was a widow, right? That’s where widows wore their rings. Her husband was indeed dead. Because her husband would have never told her he had to leave, to “sort some things out.”
She inhaled roughly, trying to ignore the sense of comfort the ring brought her, even on the wrong finger.
Pulling on snug jean shorts and a sleeveless blouse, she clenched her teeth, forcing herself to go through with this little girls’ night out Sienna was so determined to have. She tucked the shirt into her shorts and threaded the leather belt through the loops.
She slid a toe ring on. Something else he had bought her. She wiggled her toes, eyeing the cherry-red polish critically before sliding her feet into stylish leather sandals.
She spritzed herself with the softly scented cologne she had always favored then headed back downstairs. Striding into the kitchen, she heard the Harley and went to the window to watch as its headlight cut through the darkness and sped away from the garage.
Where was he going? Another fight?
He was here for a mission, she reminded herself. She knew he was, she just hadn’t figured out what it was. And she hadn’t asked. That was dumb of her. Because she hadn’t wanted the inevitable question to come up. What happened when the mission or assignment was over? What happened when he no longer had a reason to be in Alpine?
And now she knew. He’d have to leave. To sort some things out.
She shook her head, picked up the phone, and called a cab. She didn’t want to drive tonight. She intended to enjoy this little outing Sienna had guilted her into. She intended to dull her senses just enough to laugh with her friends, to be a girl again.
It had been a damned long time since she had been a woman, just for the sake of being a woman. Too many years since she had felt a sense of—freedom. And that freedom hurt. It hurt like hell.
She shoved a credit card and her house keys in the back pocket of her jeans and went out to the front porch to await her ride.
Sabella knew she was too damned pissed to be leaving the house. Too hurt. She should face Noah with what she knew, scream and demand the truth, but pride held her back. Who wanted a man who stayed simply because a woman reminded him that he was married?
As the cab drew into the driveway, she watched Rory step out of the convenience store, staring up at the drive.
“Pull down to the garage first,” she told Art Strickman, the young man driving the cab that night. His daddy owned three cabs, and they all kept up a steady business. Especially on a Friday night.
“Yes, Ms. Malone.” He flashed her a smile before turning and driving to the front of the convenience store.
Rory was waiting on her. “Where the hell are you going?”
Rory took one look at her and barely managed to keep his mouth from dropping open. Holy hell. Noah was going to explode.
This was the Sabella he knew. This woman standing in front him of looking like a damned goddess. Her hair all fluffed around her face, her eyes smoky in the dim light, legs a mile long, and nails painted cherry red.
“Girls’ night out.” She wagged her brows. “I’ll be back late, so make sure you lock up tight and take the bank bag with you. I’ll get it in the morning.”
“Hell, umm, Belle.” He swallowed tightly. “Hang around a bit. I’ll go with you. I close up in an hour.”
“Girls’ night out, Rory.” She patted his cheek with a mocking little laugh. “Sienna and Kira Richards are waiting on me. I’ve just put away a bottle of Nathan’s eighteen hundred and something French wine, and I’m heading out to have a little fun. You can survive without me.”
Shit. Shit. He pushed his fingers through his hair and stared around the lot as he heard the door open behind him.
“Ms. Malone. Wow. You’re hot,” Toby almost cackled. “You’re going out tonight?”
“Ain’t he sweet?” Belle wrinkled her nose back at him. “Girls’ night out, Toby. Make sure you get a ride home, no walking. Promise?”
“You betcha.” Toby laughed. “Tell me where you’re going. Maybe we’ll join you.”
