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The cop. He’s cocky. Self-important. It figures. I bet he and Kev Baxter get along swimmingly.
“Everything okay?” Sarah asks as she breezes into the office, her eyes narrowing to slits on Kev Baxter’s back.
I stand. “Mr. Baxter would like to join. He knows Steve Cooke,” I say, rounding the desk and offering my hand, killing him with friendliness. “Sarah will give you a tour. I have somewhere I need to be.”
Naturally, Sarah’s first reaction is to scowl, because she knows wheresomewhereis. I ignore her, and she soon loses her irritation, the potential standing before her irresistible. She plasters a smile on her face, thrusts her tits out, and motions for Kev Baxter to follow. Poor guy has no idea what’s coming to him.
“Have fun,” I call, and Sarah laughs her way out of my office. He’s going to be whipped like a bitch for the inconvenience he caused last night. “Right.” I look to John, praying he’s not going to stall my escape. “I’ll be off, then.”
“Sit down.”
“What?”
“Sit the fuck down now, motherfucker.”
Wisely, I lower my arse to the edge of my desk, sheepish, as John yanks out the chair Kev Baxter just vacated and lowers his big body into it. I wait. Cautious. Worried.
“Talk,” he demands.
“About what?”
“Don’t test me, Jesse.” He leans forward, pulling his suit jacket together before resting back. “With the girl.”
“She’s a woman,” I mutter. Why the fuck does everyone insist on pointing out the age gap? I’m over it. Kind of. They need to get over it too.
“The woman,” he mimics, his bald head glimmering under the ceiling light. “What’s happening with the woman?”
I grin, and I absolutely cannot help it. “She loves me.”
“Fuck me, you should get an award for being so fucking bright.” He pulls his shades off and rolls his eyes, and I pout, injured. “Of course she loves you.”
“Yeah, but she’s said it now.” I’ll skip over the fact that I fucked it out of her. “We’re on the same page.” Finally.
“Does this mean you’ll stop acting like a crazy motherfucker?”
“Totally.” I get to my feet and rest my hand on his shoulder. “I’ve no reason to be crazy because all twenty-six years of her loves all thirty-seven years of me.”
“Oh, so you’ve finally shared that key bit of information with her, have you?”
What’s with everyone taking away my smiles? “Not exactly.”
“Fuck’s sake,” John breathes, shaking his head as he slips his wraparounds back on. “Tell the girl how old you are and be done with it.” He pushes himself up from the chair. “If she loves you, it won’t matter.” He strides away. “Same as your motherfucking history, you deluded motherfucker.” Stopping at the door, he looks back. “You told me you’d tell her everything once you were sure she wouldn’t run.”
I wilt, stepping back. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is. Talk. That’s it.” He gazes around the office. “Look what happened the last time you kept something from her. The girl deserves the truth.”
“Woman.”
“Whatever. Talk.”
I shake my head. Talk about my history? My brother, my daughter, my uncle? Talk about the fact that I betrayed her when I stayed away for four days straight. “I can’t hurt her again.”
“Then you’ll be living on the edge for eternity, and this new, amazing thing you’re feeling won’t ever be truly amazing because it’s a fucking lie. Tell her before someone else does.” He slams the door, and I flinch, not only at the deafening sound.
“Ouch,” I murmur, reaching for my chest and rubbing at the sting. I have to stand by my decision. Protect her. It’s simple. Protect her from everything, but especially protect her from me.
My face screws up, and I exhale, my earlier lightness lost. There’s only one way to fix this despondency, and it’s not here.
