Best She Ever Had (9781617733963) (21 page)

“To hell with what I said! I was lying. I was lying to protect myself, but I'm not lying anymore. I'm putting it all out there. So do the same and answer the question. Do you still love me, Cindy, like I love you?”

Cynthia closed her eyes, feeling her lashes dampen with tears.

Shit,
she thought.
Shit! Shit! Shit!

He was pressing down on her, pressing his weight on her body so that she couldn't move. On the inside, she could feel the same weight on her heart. Korey was squeezing it at all sides to the point that she couldn't think and could barely breathe. He just wouldn't let it go.

Cynthia kept insisting that she wasn't the same girl she had been twenty years ago, but deep down she knew she was. She had just built a brick wall around the girl, locked her away in a tower, and threw away the key. But that girl, who was still innocent and open-hearted, had returned, and she still loved Korey. She always would.

Cynthia slowly nodded.

“Don't nod your head. Say it to me like I said it to you.”

Korey loosened his grip on her arms. He shifted in between her legs, coaxing them open again. She could feel the wet tip of him pressing urgently between her thighs, begging to be inside her.

She wrapped her arms around him and gazed into eyes. “I love you, Korey,” she whispered and kissed him again. Less than a minute later, he put on another condom and entered her. She cried out into the silent hotel room. Her grip around his back tightened.

Cynthia met each stroke with the rise of her hips. She spread her legs wider so that he could fill her completely. Their bodies moved in a steady rhythm—slow and deliberate at first, then gradually picking up the pace. Like she had twenty years ago, she locked this moment in her memory. She wanted to remember every sensation: the warmth of his perspiring skin against hers, the feel of his lips against her mouth and neck, and the swell of him inside her. When her orgasm rocked her body, she cried out again and twisted underneath him. Her toes curled. Her back arched. Her nails dug into his skin.

He came soon after, shouting out her name into the silent room before collapsing on top of her.

They lay quietly for several minutes—she, staring at the bedroom ceiling, and he with his head nestled on her shoulder and buried in the covers. Cynthia suspected that, like her, Korey was deep in thought.

She had just admitted to him that she loved him and he had admitted the same to her. What did that mean for them both? What about her plans to focus on meeting and marrying her next rich husband—the one who had enough wealth to buy a small island? Korey didn't meet those standards by a long shot. He lived in a tiny bungalow, drove a crappy car, and was a mechanic. If she ended up with him, then, just like her sisters, she would be settling for less.

But he's not less,
she corrected herself.

Twenty years ago, he had been everything to her, and she had let him slip away.

No, I
pushed
him away.

But she wasn't going to do that again. Life had thrown her more than just a second chance to roll around in the sheets with Korey Walker. It had given her a second chance at happiness, and damn it, she wasn't pushing it away this time!

She trailed her fingers along his spine. “That was perfect,” she whispered.

He raised his head and pushed himself to his elbows. “Well, perfect—almost,” he said, making her frown and knocking her off her cloud of bliss.

“
Almost?
What do you mean almost? What was wrong with it?”

“Well”—he leaned down and lightly kissed her cheek, then her neck, making her tingle again—“you haven't brushed your teeth yet, baby.”

The tingling instantly stopped. Her mouth fell open in shock.

“I mean”—he shrugged—“hell, I love you! I'll make love to you even with morning breath and sleep in your eyes. I was going to say we could take a break so you can get minty fresh, but I didn't want to ruin the—”

He didn't get to finish. His words were cut short by a pillow to the head.

“Did you just tell me I have morning breath? You . . . cocky . . . asshole!” she yelled as she hit him again and again.

He wrenched the pillow out of her hands, leading to another tussle on the bed. They lost their balance and fell to the hotel floor as Cynthia shrieked with laughter.

L
auren gazed out the window, watching as her sister Dawn's cobalt blue Mercedes-Benz convertible pulled to a stop in her driveway. She glanced at her blurry reflection in the stained-glass windowpane, quickly wiped away the last of the tears from the corners of her eyes, and sniffed, not wanting to give a hint to her sister about the emotions that were waging a little battle inside her.

She had slept in one of the guest rooms last night after her argument with Cris and awoke this morning to find her husband had left the house without saying good-bye to her. She was disappointed but not surprised. After all,
she
was the one who had stormed out of their bedroom last night and refused to come back. Maybe he thought she wasn't interested in talking to him, but the truth was that she had lain awake for most of the night, waiting to hear Cris's soft knock at the guest bedroom door. But it never came.

She just wished she could make Cris understand why she had reacted the way she did. It was bad enough that so many people in town whispered about her and seemed to pity him for being married to a woman like her. Why did he have to ally himself with one of those people? He didn't need Marvin Payton to win this election. Cris could easily go against Mayor Knightly on his own, she insisted. All Marvin would do was make Cris second-guess his confidence in his judgment and his confidence in her.

Lauren politely shooed away the housekeeper, who was walking toward the front door. Lauren answered it instead, pulling open one of the French doors just as Dawn's driver-side door flew open. Even from such a great distance, Lauren could hear her infant son bawling. She instantly bounded down the steps toward the parked car.

“Laurie!” Dawn shouted as she hopped out of the convertible. The usually impeccably dressed woman looked absolutely frazzled in her jeans and wrinkled T-shirt. She rounded the car and swung open the back passenger door, where Crisanto Jr. was crying and flailing in his car seat. “I have no idea what's wrong! He's just been crying and crying, the poor thing!”

Lauren rushed toward the car and removed her son from his car seat. She held him in her arms and gently rocked and shushed him. “What's wrong, honey? Tell mommy what's wrong.”

She then patted his back a few times, and he let out a tremendous burp that made both women's eyes widen in amazement. Suddenly, his tears ceased.

“Oh, that was a big one, buddy!” Lauren gushed. “Do you feel better?”

He looked up at his mother and gave her a gummy grin.

Dawn whipped off her sunglasses. “You have
got
to be kidding me! That's all it was . . .
gas?
”

Lauren laughed. “I'm afraid so.”

Dawn's shoulders slumped. “Oh, to hell with it!” She reached inside the backseat of her car and grabbed the diaper bag that Lauren had loaned her. She slammed the car door shut. “I give up. I'm just not cut out for this mommy thing, Laurie, and I told Xavier as much.”

The two women walked toward the mansion's front door.

“But he's still gung ho about having a baby,” Dawn moaned. “We're not even married yet. I told him he'd have to put a ring on my finger before I would even
think
about getting knocked up. He told me no problem, give him my ring size, and he'll have the ring by tomorrow.”

Lauren burst into laughter again as they mounted the stone steps.

“It's not funny, girl! Doesn't he realize I'm an old woman? My body probably couldn't even take a pregnancy right now!”

“Dawn, you're thirty-seven years old! You are not, by any estimation, an ‘old woman.' ”

“Tell that to my gynecologist,” Dawn muttered as they entered the foyer. Dawn closed the door behind them. “She told me that the clock is definitely ticking.” Dawn tapped the invisible watch on her wrist for illustration. “I asked her if I could just freeze my eggs and try in a few years. She said—and I quote—‘Most of your eggs aren't really that viable to begin with.' ” Dawn continued in a snippy voice. “ ‘I would advise any woman at
your
age to start trying to have a baby as soon as possible. ' ”

Lauren shook her head. “I'm sorry that you have pressure coming at you from all sides.”

Dawn shrugged as she followed her sister into the great room. She looked around the yawning space, designed to resemble a Viking hall with its timber-beam ceiling and massive stone fireplace. “It's okay. It's hard to explain to Xavier that it's not that I don't
ever
want to have kids. I just never envisioned myself being a mom. You know? It's still a concept I'm trying to get used to. I never thought I'd fall in love! I never thought having a family was a possibility! I'd thought I'd get married and divorce, and live off my big alimony settlement. That's what the women in our family are supposed to do! But now it's all”—she took a deep breath and fell onto one of the love seat cushions—“complicated.”

Lauren nodded as she felt her son drift to sleep in her arms. “I can understand that.”

Like Dawn, she had been raised to have certain expectations from life. She never thought she'd now be in a situation where she loved her husband so much that it ripped her apart that they weren't speaking to each other.

“But enough about me and my
old
womb!” Dawn turned to her sister, fluffing a pillow behind her as she adjusted on the sofa. “Have you had any updates from Cindy?”

“Nope. Not one. She hasn't even responded to the text messages I sent today.” Lauren bit down on her bottom lip. Her brows furrowed. “I hope everything is all right.”

“I'm sure she's fine,” Dawn said with a wave of the hand. “She's just too preoccupied with finding Clarissa right now to give us a call. So how are things with you? Did you guys enjoy being a childless couple for one night?”

“Oh, things are good.” Lauren sat down on the facing leather sofa. She laid Crisanto Jr. on the baby blanket resting on the cushion beside her. She gently patted her son's back as he slept. “We . . . uh . . . we enjoyed ourselves. We had a good time. It was . . .” She grappled for the right word, the right lie. “It was nice.”

“Nice?”
Dawn eyed her sister. She cocked a finely arched eyebrow. “Okay. What's wrong?”

“Why do you think something is wrong?”

“You're being vague and evasive. That's not a good sign. Plus your nose is puffy and your eyes are a little red.” Dawn squinted. “Have you been crying?”

Lauren sighed and looked away.

Damn it,
she thought. Was she that transparent? “Come on. Tell me what's wrong! You and Cris didn't have a fight, did you?”

Lauren hesitated then finally, nodded.

“
Why?
What happened? Most of the time the two of you are so perfect together it's sickening.”

“It's about the election. Cris is hiring a campaign manager and didn't tell me.”

“I didn't know you were involved enough in his election campaign that you would care. You guys really fought over that?”

“It wasn't just that! It's not just that he wants to hire someone to be his campaign manager; it's
who
he wants to hire. Dawn, the guy he's considering is such a kiss-ass, and it's obvious he doesn't respect me. His wife acted like she wanted to toss me out of their house.”

Dawn held up her hand. “Wait, Cris hired that guy anyway after you told him about that?”

“Well, no. I didn't tell him.”

Dawn frowned in confusion.

“And he hasn't hired him—yet,” Lauren further explained. “He said he was only thinking about it.”

“Well, if you didn't tell him what happened and he hasn't hired the guy, then what's the issue?”

Lauren stopped patting her son's back. “I'm just . . . I'm just tired of being treated like a side piece and not a wife. I'm tired of being seen as a liability. For better or for worse, I'm Mrs. Crisanto Weaver.” She gritted her teeth. “No, I may not be the ideal wife, but I'm
his
wife. I deserve some respect!”

Dawn sat in silence as she listened to her sister. Finally, she asked, “Has Cris ever treated you like you were a side piece? Has he ever called you a liability?”

Lauren paused. “Well, no . . . but I know everyone else sees me that way.”

“So who cares what everyone else thinks? Look, Laurie, I know you're not a fan of everything Mama says, but she's right about one thing: You can't base your life on other people's opinions or expectations. You certainly can't build a marriage on it.”

“I'm not basing my life or my marriage on their opinions!”

“Then why are you angry at Cris for what other people say or think? Why did you have a fight with him when it sounds like your beef is really with these people whispering about you?”

Lauren's mouth clamped shut. She had no response to that one. She thought she had long ago given up proving herself to the people of Chesterton, that she had been at peace with knowing she was a woman with a tainted past but a brighter future. Unfortunately, Cris's mayoral run seemed to be bringing back all those old feelings of inadequacy, shame, and self-doubt. And she had taken out those feelings on Cris.

“Damn,” she muttered, dropping her face into her hands.

Dawn nodded. “Damn indeed. I don't know where your man is, but you need to find him and go apologize.”

Lauren grudgingly nodded just as her phone rang. She rose to her feet and walked to the cordless that sat on one of the end tables.

“Weaver residence. Lauren speaking,” she answered as Dawn walked to the other couch to sit beside Cris Jr.

“Are you near a computer?” Stephanie yelled, making Lauren cringe and pull the phone away from her ear for a second.

“Huh? Why do I need to be near a computer?”

“Who's that?” Dawn asked.

“Steph,” Lauren said over her shoulder.

“Oh!” Dawn grinned. “Tell her I said hi. And I will remind the both of you that we still need to settle on a menu for her engagement party.”

“I know. I know. I've just been a little . . . preoccupied lately.” Lauren held the phone back to her mouth. “Dawn said hi and that we still need to settle on a—”

“Wait! Dawn's there? Tell her to get to a computer too! She's on there with the rest of us.”

Lauren paused. “On where, Steph?”

“The Web site!”
Stephanie shouted, making Lauren pull the phone away from her ear again. “Girl, here I was thinking that I was going to have a tranquil day and just take one of my clients to look at a few houses and I had to see this on my phone screen! I am three months pregnant and the sleep-deprived mother of an infant. I don't need this today!”

Lauren inwardly groaned.
Oh, Lord, what now?
She turned to Dawn again.

“Hey, do you have your cell or iPad on you?”

Dawn looked taken aback. She nodded. “Yeah, in my purse. Why?”

“Steph wants us to see some Web site.”

A few minutes later, Dawn and Lauren were huddled in front of the coffee table. Dawn's new iPad sat in the center of its wooden surface and she had pulled up the Web site in question on the screen. As she did, her and Lauren's jaws dropped simultaneously.

“What the hell is this?” Dawn said breathlessly.

“My thoughts exactly,” Stephanie muttered on the other end of the phone line. She was now on speakerphone.

Cris Jr. had already woken up from his nap and preoccupied himself by idly playing with his feet while his mother and aunts commiserated.

The Web site they were staring at was low budget, with stark fonts and minimal pictures. It looked like someone's teenaged son could have built it over the weekend. But the poor quality wasn't the issue. What had Dawn and Lauren's eyes practically bugging out of their heads was the site's subject. Under the heading “Chesterton Scandals” were a series of blurbs about the exploits—both real and fictional—of all the women in the Gibbons family. It talked about past husbands, boyfriends, and affairs. It named names and put on the screen the gory details about the family that had been gossiped about in Chesterton for decades.

“Xavier and I are on here!” Dawn exclaimed. She scrolled down the screen and scanned a few words. “According to this, I seduced him away from my half-sister, Constance. I also secretly drugged my father and talked him into adding me to his will.” She balled her fists in her lap. “
None
of that is true! None of it!”

“You're not the only one being lied about,” Stephanie said. “The site says that I cheated on my ex-husband, which is a damn lie! That asshole cheated on me with that twenty-year-old bimbo at his dealership! That's the chick he married after he treated me like last season's Manolos and handed me off to Goodwill.”

As Lauren read the Web site, her heart rate increased. The site alleged that she had gotten her position as head chef of Le Bayou Bleu only because she'd slept with the former head chef, Phillip Rochon. It also said she was playing Cris for a fool by having affairs with numerous men around town. It even speculated whether her son, Crisanto Jr., was really Cris's son at all.

When she read that line, she almost saw red. She understood what Dawn had said earlier about not letting other people's opinions have such an impact on her, but how was she possibly supposed to ignore an allegation like that? She wanted to find the person who made the Web site and beat them to a pulp!