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“I told you. I have my ways.”
I roll my eyes and groan. “She doesn’t trust me. I understand why she didn’t at first, but the fact she still doesn’t, hurts. I’d spend my entire life showing her I’m worthy of every last ounce of her trust if she’d give it.”
“As your mother, I don’t like to see you feeling this down about a woman so I have to know something. Do you trust her?” she asks. I furrow my brows so she explains further. “Do you trust Melissa with your heart?”
With a light laugh, I lean forward. “Mom, this is going to sound melodramatic, but here goes. Being shot in the chest was easier than walking away from her. I don’t trust her with my heart at all because she’s the only one who can break it. That said, I’d risk it. Over and over again. Man, I need to stop drinking.”
She smiles and looks down at her phone, where she seems to be typing. “Well then, this is quite a shame then.”
Before she can finish her sentence, my doorbell rings. I get up and walk to the door. When I open it, it’s with complete confusion.
What the hell is going on?
thirty
WILLIAM
“BRONSON. WILLIAM.”
When I opened my front door to see Kent in his sergeant uniform with a car outside with the lights shining and a pair of handcuffs in his hand, I was floored.
I asked a thousand questions as he read me my rights and hauled me into the backseat of the car like a common criminal.
My charge: breaking and entering into Genevieve’s salon, Illusion Salon and Spa.
It’s all ridiculous. I hoped to get answers, but Kent wouldn’t speak to me aside from reading me my rights. He was silent on the drive to the precinct. I had my picture taken and then was hauled into the cell.
I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes, my arms now free of cuffs and my head going crazy with wondering why the hell I’m in here. My mother should arrive any minute. As I was arrested, she was stunned silent. I’m sure she was calling my father as I was driven away. I was hoping this was some sort of prank, but with each step, it keeps on feeling more real.
When I hear my name being called from the other side of the room, I know this isn’t a prank. This is something … more.
How do I know that? It’s the voice. Sultry with a touch of nerves, Melissa’s tone as she says my name has me standing from the bench and walking over to the bars.
It’s hard to see her at first. The lighting in this room sucks, and she’s cast in an odd shadow, yet from the silhouette of her body, the womanly curves let me know that it is, in fact, my Melissa.
“Did you have me fake arrested?” I ask her in utter disbelief.
She walks forward, and I have to pause. She’s wearing those leggings that hug her body, the kind she wore when we were setting up the wedding. Her eyes sparkle against the silk top she’s wearing, and her long blonde hair is flowing down her shoulders.
“I did,” she says as she walks up to the bars and stares at me. Her gaze stops at my boots, and she pauses for a moment.
“Care to share?”
She closes her eyes and bites her lips, then shakes her head for a beat. “Sorry. Momentarily distracted.”
“Is it possible you could be distracted with me standing on the other side of these bars?”
“No,” she says, and I repeat her, trying to figure out what the hell is going through her head. “You have to stay there because I have a lot of things to say, and I don’t want you … distracting me.”
“You could have called.”
“Seriously, Will? Can you just let me do this?”
“Then, explain what this is—”
“It’s a grand gesture!” she yells in that excited way only she can with her arms outstretched and her eyes wild. “Damn it. You really know how to take the romance out of a situation. When I asked Kent for help, he seemed reluctant, but I had to explain how dire the situation was. Yes, I understand this isn’t the most romantic setting, but it’s where we met … and, well, I just thought you needed to be here, behind those bars, for what I’m about to say.”
I lean back on my heels. “What do you want to say?”
