Filthy Rich, Wild with Lust

Chapter49

I stare at Rebecca. “How do you feel about this?”

“Heartbroken.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Can we kill him?” Chloe chimes in from the sideline. “Let’s kill him and bury his body in your backyard, Jules.”

I giggle. “Tempting, although Barry would probably dig him up.”

“Good old Bazza.” Chloe smiles. “He can chew on his bones and shit.”

“He told me he fired her from work,” Rebecca says.

“Is that true?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been into his office, obviously, but I would assume she would have resigned in case I did go in there.”

“True.” I sip my drink. “What must the other secretaries think of her?”

“They probably all knew. I feel like such a fool.”

“Don’t,” I snap. “He’s the fool. You remember that.”

“And then he did something that really broke my heart,” Rebecca says sadly.

“What?”

“He said that he hadn’t seen her since I found out and that he was never going to see her again.”

My eyes hold hers. “Why did that break your heart?”

“Here we are, laying our hearts out on the table, discussing his infidelity in great detail, anal and all. He’s telling me that I’m the love of his life, apologizing and telling me it’s the biggest regret of his life, and yet... he’s still lying about seeing her. I know for a fact he is staying at her house. I’ve driven past and seen his car there.”

My heart sinks.

“And then while he was talking and begging for forgiveness, I had an epiphany.”

“What was it?”

“He’s always going to lie about seeing her. Even in a conversation about saving our marriage, he’s still lying. I can never trust him again. We can’t save this. It’s too far gone.” Her eyes well with tears. “My marriage is officially over.”

“God, Bec.” I take her hand over the table and hold it in mine. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Chloe says sadly.

The waiter arrives with our new round of drinks. “Thanks.” I smile.

Rebecca takes one and holds it up for a toast. “Tonight, we’re celebrating.” We smile and hold our drinks up to hers. “To new beginnings.”

Wednesday morning

I walk down the corridor of the nursing home. I’m just about to clock out from the night shift.

I’m on autopilot now.

Nothing could surprise me anymore. My faith in the male s*x has been utterly and irrevocably ruined.

Rebecca’s heart is broken. My heart is broken.

The whole world is f*****g broken.

I get to Bernard’s door and glance through the window and stop still on the spot.

My heart breaks all over again.

Henley is lying on his back in the hospital bed. His father is lying beside him. Bernard’s head is on Henley’s chest, and Henley’s arm is protectively around him. Henley is watching television as his father sleeps.

My eyes well with tears...

I know he doesn’t love me, but he sure loves his dad.

Lucky him.

They say time heals all wounds. I don’t think that’s necessarily true.

But it sure gives you some perspective.

It’s been four weeks since Henley and I last spoke, three weeks and six days since I felt swept away and in the moment.

Five minutes since I’ve thought about him...

But I don’t care because I am completely and utterly over him. Henley who?

I mean, it’s not like we had a grand love affair. It was a few weeks. I got up, dusted myself off, and got over it.

It was the best grand love affair of all time...

Stop it... focus!

Barry runs to the front door, and then I hear a gentle knock, knock. I open and step back in surprise when I see him. His dark hair just messed up, still wearing his suit from work, he is the epitome of fuckable.

Why does he always smell so damn good?

“Henley.”

He gives me a lopsided smile. “How are you?”

“Good.” I look out into the street. Is he here alone?

“I... ahh... I just...” He’s tripping over his words and clearly nervous.

“Yes.” I act brave. “What is it?”

“I bought you some new—” He gestures to six potted plants lined up on my front porch.

I cut him off. “Weeds?”

“Apparently they’re plants.” He smiles, as if relieved at my joke. “Who knew?”

You did.

I roll my lips to hide my smile.

“Anyway, I wanted to apologize for calling your house names.”

“Anything else you want to apologize for?”

“A lot, actually.” He shrugs. He tries to continue, but I cut him off.

“What else do you want to apologize for?”

“Aah.” He swallows a lump in his throat. “My...”

I widen my eyes as I wait.

“The way you told me to sleep with Mason?”

He winces. “Yeah... about that...”

“Yes?” I wait.

“That didn’t come out exactly right.”

“It didn’t?”

“No, it was just...” He shrugs.

“You’re terrible at apologizing, by the way.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Carry on,” I reply flatly. Acting tough is fun.

“I just don’t want a relationship, that’s all.”

“Okay, you could have just said that instead of trying to throw me to the wolves.”

He smirks at my analogy. “Mason is hardly a wolf. He’s more like a greyhound.”

“Jealous, are you?”

“Of him?” He screws up his face. “No.”

“Ha.” I tut as if I don’t believe him. Although his story is credible—Mason could totally be a greyhound.

We stare at each other some more as the air does that stupid thing between us, and I want to yell and scream and be a complete drama queen for him not falling madly in love with me because damn it, we have something.

But I won’t... I’m keeping my cards close to my chest from now on.

“I just wanted you to know that I would like us to be friends, seeing that we are neighbors,” he says with a soft smile.

It has been awkward around here with us ignoring each other.

“Okay.” I nod. “I agree. I would like that too.”

“Good.” He smiles as if proud of himself.

“Good.”

“So...” He hesitates. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh... me neither.”

“Okay.”

His eyes search mine. “Okay...”

“Okay.” I fake a smile. “Goodbye.”

His face falls. “Goodbye?”

Why is he repeating everything I say?

“Goodbye,” I say flatly. What does he think is going to happen?

He tells me that he doesn’t love me and to go sleep with someone else, kills half my garden with a lawn mower, and then buys me six crappy plants and has the gall to think all is forgiven?

No, Mr. James, I don’t think so.

“See you later.” I close the door in his face. I lean up against the back of it and smile in relief.

Thank god that’s over with.

An hour and a half later, I’m freshly showered and in my robe.

Knock, knock, knock. At the door, Barry is wagging his tail, so I know it’s someone we know. I open the door.

“Henley,” I say in surprise.

He gives me a beautiful broad smile, wearing navy satin boxer shorts and a white T-shirt. He smells like soap and heavenly man, and I get a vision of my legs around my ears... yeesh.

He’s holding a coffee mug in his hand.

“What’s up?” I try to act casual and not impressed at all.

“I was wondering if you had some spare milk?”

I frown. “What?”

“I want a cup of coffee, but I’m out of milk.”

“Oh...” I shrug. Not what I thought he was here for, but whatever. “Sure, come in.”

I go to the fridge and take out the milk. I go to take the coffee cup from him, and he pulls it out of my reach. “What are you doing?” He frowns.

“Getting you some milk.”

“Not cow’s milk.”

“Huh?”

“I want breast milk.”

He did not just say that.

I bubble up a surprised giggle. “You want what?”

“Breast milk. Happy to extract myself.” His teeth catch his bottom lip in that naughty way he does.

“I don’t have any breast milk.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a lactating mother, you sicko.”

He gives me a slow sexy smile. “In exchange, I could give you some cream for your coffee?”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you have enough?”

“Ample. Two big vats of the stuff.”

I try to keep a straight face. I like this game.

“I don’t like cream in my coffee. It curdles.”

“It’s a delicacy.”

I know.

“Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Positive.”

“Oh... shame.” He gives me a cheeky smile, and it’s all I can do not to drag him upstairs. Playful Henley is so very hard to resist.

“So...” He rocks up onto his toes.

“Actually, I do know where you could get some of the milk you’re after.” I act serious.

“You do?” His eyes flick around. “Where... upstairs?”

“Across the road at Taryn’s. Huge milk factory, full production.”

He looks at me, deadpan. “That’s not the milk I’m after, Juliet.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“I’m after a specialty boutique kind of milk only served here.”

“This boutique is members only.”

“Seems a shame to put a label on the factory, therefore nobody gets to drink it.”

“Oh, you needn’t worry.” I fake a smile. “There’s people lining up for a membership.”

“Like who?”

“My milk is no longer any of your concern, Mr. James.”

He rolls his eyes, and I push his shoulder toward the front door. “I only said that—”

I cut him off. “I know.”

“It’s just such a waste...”