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I blamed Jason, Abe, and Cori.
Cori.
I had never wanted to hit a woman before, but I’d wanted to last Friday night in Charlie’s Lounge. I should have known my world would come crashing down on me in one fell swoop. I should have known no matter how much I tried to shelter Miranda, I would fail.
In my refusal to see what was right in front of me, I failed her.
Miranda had stood stock-still in the restaurant, humiliated in front of hundreds of strangers, when she saw me with Cori. Her stunned silence blared at an agonizing pitch as Cori bitched about it beingher night.
I could have choked Cori. But what good would that have done other than silencing her? She had only been doing her job, so I thought, and I had veered off course at that moment with Miranda.
Cori’s complaining had been an attempt to reel me back in, but how could I flip back into pretend mode with Miranda inches away from me?
I couldn’t.
Somehow, I had to save her. Lessen the blow. Preserveus.
But I failed.
When she had returned to the beach house Saturday night with a guarded expression and minimal words, it pulverized my heart. Remarkably though, our raw, unhindered love took over. I had ignored the gnawing in my gut that it might be the last time I would ever touch, kiss, or make love to Miranda.
An insurmountable passion had caressed our flesh into submission and demanded our hearts embrace what might be fleeting.
We’d given in to our desires, but Miranda had done the unexpected, throwing caution to the wind. She had stripped herself of her fears and anxiety when she got on her knees and loved me. She’d declared her love and devotion in the only way she believed I desired.
I had heard the pleading wails of her heart, begging me to stop the affair and choose her.
But none of this was about choosing her. I’d chosen her the first day I saw her in Club R, when the universe had sealed our destinies. I would choose her an infinite number of times, and it angered me she would think otherwise.
While in Vegas, I had been in a constant state of inebriation to play my part and numb the searing pain of my ruptured heart.
I needed to find Miranda. Nothing would soothe or heal my brokenness other than her.
I stalked toward our bedroom. I couldn’t sleep in here, not in our bed without her. Quickly, I changed into fresh clothes, grabbed my keys, and headed to her office.
Hopefully, Lily and Tate would show me mercy and tell me where I could find Miranda.
8 Will
THE SECOND I entered LA Premier, I was taken aback by Miranda’s essence. It danced around me, teasing and torturing at every turn. I inhaled the scented candles she adored while admiring the greenery and floral arrangements she said brought the outdoors in.
Miranda was everywhere in the building, from little knick-knacks and bridal magazines and books to a glass bowl filled with truffles. It all nearly brought me to my knees.
Gina eyed me nervously as I approached her desk.
“Hi, Gina.” I kept my voice even and calm. I didn’t want her freaking out on me. I wasn’t there to cause trouble.
“Hi, Will. She’s still not here.”
“I know. Is Lily?”
“Yeah, one sec.” Gina walked back to Lily’s office and returned not ten seconds later. “She said you could go back.”
“Thanks.” I walked past her and noticed Miranda’s office door was wide open.
My heart broke into a gallop as I poked my head in to see if she was inside. The room smelled like her, a soft floral scent with coconut and shea butter. I pressed my lips together in a firm line, noting the sweetness in the air was fading. It hadn’t been replenished as it would have been if she’d been in the building daily.
I backed away, feeling colder than when I entered LA Premier, and made my way two doors down to Lily’s office.
