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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JACK
“What’d you say to her?” I paced the library, tearing my hands through my hair. “Camila, damnit, tell me. Charley’s pale. Hiding something from me. So, tell me.” I slammed my palm to the wall by the bookshelf, trying to get a grip. But no one was in there to see me spinning out of control.
“I just told her I’m sorry for . . . well, for everything.” Camila’s voice broke as if she was barely hanging on herself. That wasn’t like her, and it was incredibly sobering. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll see you when my team arrives. We’ll be at the house in two hours.”
The call died, and I nearly chucked the phone across the library.
Charley had refused to talk when I had pushed for answers after she’d returned from the sunroom to give Carter back the phone. After she’d left the room, I’d pretty much snatched the phone from Carter’s hand to call Camila myself. The team had quietly left for the kitchen to continue their work there. But with our limited resources, we were all feeling fairly fucking useless and on edge.
I took a second to regroup, then a few more just because I was failing, and as I started to leave the library, I spotted the book Charley had been holding earlier.
Picking it up, I eyed the cover of what appeared to be a collector’s edition of Call of the Wild. I took the book with me, holding it tight in my hand like a roadmap I’d be lost without.
Lucy was near the stairs, and she lifted her chin as I approached. “Charley’s taking a nap upstairs. She asked to be alone.”
“Even from me?” I frowned, my shoulders dropping to match how defeated I felt.
Lucy nodded, then started upstairs without another word. She had to be sensing something was wrong. Well, beyond what was already wrong.
I joined Mya in the kitchen a few seconds later, handing her the phone. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Gray’s making a call in his room upstairs. Probably finally changing, too. Not sure where Carter and Gwen disappeared.” Mya looked up from the laptop. “And Jesse, Oliver, and Mason are still outside ensuring we don’t get any uninvited guests.” Her eyes fell to the book, and she added, “Go to her. Trust me, she doesn’t need space. She needs you.”
“Mind reader, too? I think we have enough of those on our team right now.” I’d meant that as a joke, but my words sounded more asshole than snarky comic. “Sorry.” My shoulders dropped a little more, like I was Atlas struggling to hold up the world. “I don’t want to bother her.” But I really do.
“Charley looked like she saw a ghost after that call.” She flicked her wrist, dismissing me. “So, go.”
Without saying more, I set down the book and left the room. Mya was right. Fuck space. I had to make sure she was okay.
I took the stairs two at a time, rushing to get to Charley, only to halt just outside the second bedroom when I overheard Carter grating out, “Regardless of what Camila ordered, you shouldn’t have kept secrets.”
I was prepared to bust into the room and defend her, confused why he was lecturing her right now, but Gwen’s clipped response stopped me. “But I’m good at keeping secrets. I’ve kept what happened between us last month to myself.”
What. The. Fuck? My hand hovered over the doorknob, unsure what to do. Listen first and then storm in, or storm in and ask for forgiveness?
“That should never have happened,” Carter snapped out. “I should have kicked you out the second you walked in on me. Not let you stand there frozen in shock, watching—”
“Watching some woman deepthroat you while you sat naked on your office couch casually sipping whiskey,” Gwen tossed back. “You just stared into my eyes while she . . . And I . . . can’t get it out of my head.”
My blood was damn near boiling, but I was apparently as frozen in shock as Gwen had been when she’d walked in on Carter getting serviced by a woman last month.
“You need to stop with all this,” Carter said after a curse. “And no more teasing. It’s going to give the guys on the team the wrong impression about us. And let me be clear when I say nothing will ever happen. Not with you, and not with . . .”
As his words trailed off, Gwen asked, “Since when do you care what people think? I know you’re not truly scared of my father, let alone anyone else on the team.”
“It’s not about fear, it’s about respect.” After a tense moment (for all of us), he went on, “But I lost the last bit I had for myself when I let you stand in my office for sixty seconds too long.”
I bowed my head to the door and closed my eyes, trying to get a handle on my breathing and heart rate. I wanted to go in. Tell Gwen to back the fuck off. That Carter wasn’t good for her. But from the sounds of it, Carter was doing a decent job himself. As much as I hated eavesdropping, I had to be certain he didn’t falter and change his mind, falling into the temptation of a beautiful woman staring at him during a stressful-as-fuck operation.
God, I might puke.
“You know, for a man who tries to come across as heartless, you’re far from it,” Gwen said, her tone softer this time. Less fight there than before.
“Please don’t mistake the fact that I won’t fuck you because I don’t want to ruin my relationships with my teammates and your father for me having a heart.” Carter’s words were crisp but cutting. “Now, let’s put this shit behind us so things are no longer awkward.” When Gwen didn’t speak up, he added, “You have your whole life ahead of you, Gwen. You’re still figuring out who you are. Trust me when I say I don’t belong in your life as anything other than a—”
“A friend?” I barely heard her whisper.
