“Finley?” He looked confused. And just as rock-hard as before.
I tore my eyes away from the huge bulge in his jeans. “Y-you should go.”
He blinked, forehead creased. “Why? What's wrong?”
“It's just...it's best if you go.” Please, I added silently. Before my willpower runs out.
He gave me a long, careful look, but I kept my eyes trained on the floor. “All right,” he finally said.
I didn't get up as he put on his coat and shoes. He could see his own infuriatingly tight ass to the door. The last thing I wanted—oh God, the only thing I wanted—was a repeat of last night.
But he paused with his hand on the doorknob and I tried not to growl with frustration. “Would it be okay if I come see Maple this Saturday? I know it's not our usual thing, but I saw something on TV about a special aquarium show, and she loved the fish today, so—”
“No,” I said more sharply than I meant to. “She'll be in Florida all weekend. My in-laws are coming to get her.” Some ugly voice inside me, something I didn't like at all, prompted me to add, “She’ll be visiting Marcus's family.”
I instantly regretted emphasizing that detail. It was cruel and totally unnecessary. But Grey only nodded, his expression unruffled, as if I hadn't just tried to cut his heart out. “Sure thing,” he said. “Maybe next weekend.”
Grey shut the front door quietly to avoid waking Maple. I buried my face in the couch's threadbare pillow, unable to meet Marcus's somber eyes. Grey's touch still burned under my skin.
Chapter Seven
Greyson
The information that Finley had given me – that Maple would be out of town visiting her grandparents – played through my brain all week. Not just because I wouldn’t get to see Maple this week, but because it meant Finley would be alone, child-free, and able to spend some adult time with me. By Friday at lunch, I couldn’t take the suspense any longer. I needed to know her schedule. Needed to know if there was any hope of seeing her. The last time at her place only made me more desperate for her. To show her all the ways we could make this work and heal together.
Parking my SUV in a spot near the club entrance, I killed the ignition and headed inside. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, and my nostrils filled with the scent of perfumes from countless women. The place was relatively dead this time of day. A half dozen lonely old men sat stationed at the bar, another handful were down in the lounge chairs closer to the action. The redhead I recognized from my last visit was performing to a heavy metal song, and using the pole like it was her own personal jungle gym.
Damn, that looks like a good workout.
Looking away from the action on stage, I sought out my target. Eyes sweeping first left, then right, I cleared the space. But Finley was nowhere to be seen. Fine by me—I didn’t particularly want her to know I was here on this recon mission at all.
I spotted the bald, grumpy-looking man that Finley had pointed out last time as her boss. He was wearing a different suit today, but it was just as gray and just as ill-fitting.
I approached him. “Great club. You the manager?”
He smiled crookedly, one gold tooth in the front glinting as it caught the strobe light above. “Thank you. Yes, I am. Can I help you with something?”
I shrugged like his answer wasn’t important, but really, I wanted this information more than I wanted my next breath. I didn’t know Finley’s stage name, and didn’t want to seem suspicious. But I figured that pretending to be an enthusiastic customer would be the best approach. This guy would be all too happy to see me come back and spend more money in his club. “I was hoping to see a dancer that I met here a couple weeks ago. Blonde, shoulder-length hair. Petite. About five-foot-five. I was wondering if I’d be able to see her here this weekend.”
“Sounds like Stormy. She’s getting pretty popular around here.”
Stormy? The name certainly matched her mood. There had to be a story there …
He grinned at me again, and I fought off the irrational urge to punch him. “She’ll be here tonight, but she has Saturdays off.”
“Thanks, man.” I tipped my head at him and shoved my hands in my pockets.
“See ya ‘round,” he said as I retreated.
I sure as hell hope not. I’d be over the fucking moon if neither me nor Finley ever stepped foot into this dump ever again. Oh, excuse me, I meant Stormy.
Climbing back into my SUV, I made my plan. Saturday night. I would prove to her this could be a good thing. I had to.
* * *
West’s Watering Hole was owned by my friend West, a tough-as-nails former SEAL. It was just the kind of casual place you came when you wanted a stiff drink and no one up in your business. It was popular amongst the local twenty-somethings for exactly that reason.
And tonight it was perfect. A not-too-rowdy Friday night crowd, and my two good friends Nolan and Lacey seated with me at a table in the corner. The huge diamond on her left finger was hard to miss. “Damn, girl. How do you walk around with that thing?” I asked.
Lacey laughed and fingered the large rock with an adoring look in her eyes. “He went a little overboard.” She pretended to smirk at Nolan.
“I'd say. But I always knew you were the one.” I smiled back at her.
“Even with that Daniella business?” she asked.
Nolan took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
His rocky past should have been a sore spot with his new fiancée. But it wasn't that way. Not with Lacey. She saw his faults and raised him, with a few of her own. Namely, hiding her identity from him when they first met. But neither had faults so deep that they couldn’t be overcome. Hell, maybe unconsciously I was hoping for something similar to bloom between me and Finley. I’d never hid that fact I’d fucked up. I only wanted her to be able to see past it, see me for the man I was on the inside, just like Lacey had done with Nolan.