Page 98 of Love Unspoken

Someone honked, and I realized that the light had changed from red to green, and I was still parked, analyzing the mess my life had become.

Green for Go, Amara.

Go.

TWO

LUCAS

I looked at my phone. Amara had not responded to my text messages. I wondered if her flight had been delayed. She was supposed to have arrived a half hour ago.

I stood on the balcony of my suite and looked at the vast gardens of the Covington estate. My conversation with my mother had jolted me. Kath was single again. She wanted to come back to me. It felt damned good to hear that. For years, I had to swallow my pride whenever I saw her with Mercer, feeling the sting of her choosing him over me.

Kath had told me several times in the past five years that she wasn't happy but didn't know how to leave Mercer without hurting him. Was I in that same place with Amara?

Fuck no! I was happy with Amara. I was content with her. We had fun together. The sex was amazing. The only problem I had with her was how she didn't seem to be interested in being Mrs. Covington. Kath had been groomed for that job. She worked at LPC, the Covington family business since we'd bought Bellamy Foods, Kath's family business. She'd come in as the CFO for LPC, the role she'd held at Bellamy Foods. She was smart and knew our business.

No one could say Amara wasn't intelligent. With a PhD in communications, she taught and researched women's health communication. She was just a different kind of brilliant.

We talked about our work together, but it wasn't the same as when I spoke to Kath about LPC; after all, she knew our company inside out.

I hated mentally comparing Kath and Amara. I had no right—no business—thinking about my ex when I was living with my loving and affectionate girlfriend.

I tucked my hands in my slacks and saw Shelby, my sister, in the garden with Kath. They were close friends.

They were laughing, and my heart beat just a little faster.

When Kath was with Mercer, she'd been untouchable. I worked with her every fucking day, and I hadn't gone there. But she was mine first. Ours was a love story that got derailed because—my jaw clenched—Kath had chosen to do so.

But now, she'd left Mercer, or maybe he left her, and did that really matter? I'd spent the past five years watching her, feeling a fire burning inside me—hate, love, affection, aggression—she drew out all my extreme emotions.

With Amara, I felt content and peaceful. I knew I was loved. She took care of me. All my life, I took care of everyone: my mother, my sister, the company, Kath—but Amara took care of me. She catered to me. I had no idea how calm life could be until I met Amara. I hadn't planned on dating her, but after a difficult day at work, I met her by accident and found myself not only distracted but also recharged, ready to face my problems with more energy the next day. So, I kept seeking her out.

Before long, I was seeing Amara all the time.

The first time we had sex, I was fascinated by how wonderful it was to be with a woman who wanted to please me—who asked me what I enjoyed. I couldn't stop touching her. I wanted her all the time. I wanted to bury myself deep inside her, where there was nothing but satisfaction.

That wasn't how I felt about Kath. Passion was a driving force with her. I couldn't sleep for wanting her, and I couldn't stand it if she talked to another man. Amara's closest friend was a professor she worked with, Basil, and I never felt jealous—I was always certain of her devotion to me.

Kath spun around at something Shelby said, her white dress twirling around her gorgeous legs. I remembered the feel of those legs wrapped around my waist. Kath was full of life and energy, her eyes always bright, lighting up every room she entered. She riled me up, while Amara always made me feel calm.

I missed Kath every fucking day since she left me. Would I miss Amara?

What was I thinking?

You're thinking of leaving Amara. That's what you're thinking.

I felt like a cold-blooded ass. Amara didn't deserve to be hurt. She was sweet and kind. I couldn't do that to her. Hell, no!

"Mister Lucas." I turned to look at Jerome.

"Is she here?"

Jerome's eyes narrowed, and he looked angry. He'd been in my life since I was a child, and I held him in high regard. He'd been a better role model than my father. I hadn't seen him look at me the way he was since I made fun of a girlfriend when I was sixteen, and he told me to learn to respect women, or he'd beat the shit out of me.

"She was here two hours ago." He clenched his jaw.

"What do you mean?"