Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro (5 page)

Chapter Four

Lars glared balefully at the computer monitor as he swung himself from side to side in the leather desk chair. Half a dozen paces away, the entire Boston skyline was visible through a wall of windows. The storm-gray clouds and choppy water on the bay mirrored his mood.

He hated this office. It wasn’t even his. It was Erik’s. Lars was only filling in at Aasen International while Erik was enjoying some R & R with his wife and their new baby. Two weeks more, and Lars would be able to return to his normal life.

Normal. Yeah, that’s a crock.

It was supposed to be business as usual—return to London and report back to his superiors at Interpol. He’d come to Boston on the pretext of family business, but really it’d been an excuse to follow a lead. With the investigation tied up, and the international human trafficking operation all but dismantled, it was time for Lars to pick up another case and move on.

An IM from the secretary outside his door popped onto the computer screen. Apparently his mother wanted to see him. It was the perfect end to a shit day. He braced himself for impact as the ornate office door flew open.

“Lars, darling!” His mother swept in like the force of nature she was. “You will not
believe
who I ran into this afternoon!”

He stood and kissed her cheek as she paused before him. Caroline Aasen looked like a study in vintage pastels. It was the only color palette she used. Today her pencil skirt, suit jacket, blouse, and handbag were all some variation of green. When he was little, Lars had once compared her to an Easter egg. His father found the description hilarious, but Lars had gotten in trouble for it anyway. Being an only child sucked. It had been him and his parents at every meal, every day until summer holidays. Then he’d come to Boston where he and Selena had been inseparable troublemakers.

“Aren’t you going to guess?” Mother demanded.

Lars stifled a sigh and forced a smile. “I didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

Mother was already beckoning to someone hovering just outside the open door. “Surely you remember Isabel Adams-Channing, Lars? The two of you were practically joined at the hip during your undergraduate years.”

What an understated way to bring up a past engagement.

This was why Lars needed to get the hell out of Boston. When he only spent two or three weeks in a city while working an investigation, there was very little chance of coming face-to-face with specters from the past.

“Hello, Lars.” Isabel minced forward on her fashionable high-heeled sandals to offer her hand.

He took it and felt…nothing at the contact. Time had altered whatever chemistry had once existed between him and Isabel. She looked like a doll with her perfect blonde hair and blue eyes, and her casual skirt and blouse flattered her willowy frame. It was an ensemble that obviously passed muster with his mother. Not so much with Lars. She was a great girl, but she was completely lacking in staying power when it came to weathering life’s storms.

“I didn’t realize you were still living in Boston, Ms. Adams-Channing,” Lars said with a subtle attempt at formality.

Isabel lowered her eyelashes in the perfect pose of a demure lady. “I’ve just gotten back from a tour in the South of France with my mother.”

Obviously she hadn’t changed. Isabel was every mother’s dream daughter-in-law. She didn’t have a single ambition of her own beyond a home and family. Or if she did, they were buried so deep she couldn’t reach them. Lars had been young and clueless as to what kind of woman he really wanted when he dated Isabel. Since he’d been nothing but a horny twenty-two-year-old, the fact that she was willing to share her body at his whim had meant everything. Then his father had gotten sick, and the rest of his world had imploded. Isabel had withdrawn almost instantly when life became more than champagne and roses. In all the turmoil, whatever dregs remained of their relationship died quietly.

“Isabel is attending the reception at Hampshire House this Friday night.” His mother was alive with excitement. “Since neither of you has a date, I thought you could escort her.”

Oh shit
. There was no way he could bow out of this with Isabel present. Not without making a complete ass out of himself and hurting her feelings, which would make him an even bigger ass. He could only hope she was as horrified at the idea as he was. “I’m sure Isabel would rather go with someone a little more into the social scene than I am, Mother. I’ll be tying up things here in the office before I return to London in two weeks.”

Isabel lifted her gaze just long enough for him to see the eagerness in her eyes. “I know you’re busy, but I’d love the chance to catch up on old times.”

The last thing he wanted to do was screw up his personal life any more than it already was. Isabel wasn’t the kind of girl to take as a casual date. She had expectations he couldn’t come close to fulfilling.

I’ve already screwed up with Mattie and now Owen. No need to add another dissatisfied lover to the list.

“I’ll be looking forward to Friday, Lars,” Isabel said, her tone hopeful. “It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Aasen, but I need to go so I can meet my mother in an hour.”

Isabel turned and walked out of his office like a meek little mouse, and Lars wondered if she ever got tired of playing by the rules.

His mother barely waited until Isabel was out of sight to give a squeal of joy. “She’s just perfect, Lars! Perfect!”

“Don’t start planning the wedding, Mother.” Lars sank back into his seat and laced his fingers behind his head. “We’re really not compatible, remember? We’ve already been through this once.”

“You’re thirty years old, Lars Aasen!” Mother snarled. “You’re not getting any younger. You have a duty to settle down, marry, and raise the next generation of our family. Besides, I want grandchildren!”

Years ago Lars had tried to do what she wanted. He knew what was expected. Marry, pop out a few kids, and dedicate his life to making more money for Aasen International. Basically he was supposed to follow along in Erik’s footsteps. Only Caroline intended her son to make a socially acceptable match as opposed to his cousin’s choice to marry for love.

“I’m not ready to settle down,” Lars protested. “My job—”

“Your
job
is to broker investment deals. You were supposed to pick up the reins of the European portion of the company when your father passed away.” His mother’s tone was like an arctic blast. “This insanity with Interpol was fine when you were young and sowing your oats. I always thought you took such a dangerous job because you were heartbroken over Isabel finding someone else after you ended things during you father’s illness.”

That particular misconception was his fault. He’d been so adamant Isabel conceal the real reason she was ditching him that he’d gone along with whatever story she’d concocted at the time. The fact that Isabel had almost immediately found herself another trust-fund baby to latch on to hadn’t bothered him in the least. He’d been too wrapped up in his own concerns to worry about petty emotions like betrayal and heartbreak.
Living
had been the only thing on his mind.

His mother wasn’t done. “Now it’s getting ridiculous! You need a home, a wife, and a family.
That
is what every man needs to make him happy.”

He loved his mother. He wished he could be the son she wanted. Hell, she deserved a daughter-in-law like Isabel and a dozen grandchildren to spoil. He wondered what she’d say if he told her the truth. It wasn’t as simple as she made it sound. Not for Lars. Nature had already screwed him over when it came to achieving that particular brand of happiness, and his own tastes had done the rest.

He couldn’t turn off the need he felt for a life that didn’t fit within the bounds of society. So since the traditional white picket fence and 2.5 kids were out anyway, he wanted things like the no-holds-barred sex marathons he’d shared with Mattie and the sensation of Owen tunneling into his ass. He kept hoping he’d “outgrow” those wants. Too bad he ached for them.

“Lars, I’m so glad I caught you—” Selena burst into the office. “Oh, hello, Aunt Caroline.”

“Selena.” Caroline Aasen didn’t hide the disapproval she felt for her niece.

Mother hadn’t gotten over Selena’s decision to shun traditional relationships and commit to two men while raising a daughter that wasn’t hers. Another reason Lars loathed the idea of telling his mother he was bisexual…among other things.

A prickle of unease made Lars rise from his chair. He didn’t like his cousin’s wary expression. “What’s up, Se?”

She glanced sideways at his mother. “I was just going to ask a…favor.”

It wasn’t like Selena to hedge. Lars didn’t care that his mother was standing a few feet away. He wanted details. “And?”

“Mattie had a rough customer this afternoon. I just wondered if you’d mind looking in on her. That’s all.” Selena beamed at his mother. “It can wait if you’ve got plans with Aunt Caroline.”

Mattie could wait? Not in Lars’s world. And what did Selena mean by “rough customer”? Lars snagged his keys from the desk drawer and his suit jacket from the chair back. “Where is she?”

“Home.”

A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Did Mattie need to go to the hospital? Was she hurt? Had some asshole assaulted her?

Rage made him light-headed as the blood rushed through his veins. He hadn’t treated Mattie the way he’d wanted. He’d been a coward, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about her. Waking up beside her had been one of the most gratifying experiences of his life. It had also scared the shit out of him. He couldn’t give her the things she wanted in life.

“Lars, calm down.” Selena’s gaze cut to his mother. “I just asked if you could look in on her. She’s fine.”

It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he saw the truth for himself. He’d left Mattie without a word months ago. She would be well within her rights to rip him a new one for showing up on her porch out of the blue.

“Mother, I’ll call you later.” He pecked her cheek as he breezed by.

“Lars!” she called. “Don’t you dare run off. We’re not done discussing this!”

* * * *

Mattie wondered if she was headed for another heartbreak or a padded room. Either way, at least she’d gotten to have amazing sex first. It was twilight outside. The light coming from her narrow bedroom windows cast long shadows. The faded chintz chair draped in Owen’s clothing looked like a beast crouched in the corner.

“This is not normal behavior for me,” Owen commented. “Be honest. Did you spike my coffee?”

She laughed. His tone was so matter-of-fact, yet he was lounging against the white wood slats of her headboard without a stitch of clothing on and looking very comfortable—and totally hot.

She snuggled up against his side and brushed her fingers over the circles inked across his collarbone. “Does that mean you’re going to cry rape? I do have kind of a thing for guys with tattoos. I suppose you could claim I ravished you.”

His dark gaze was impenetrable, but somehow Mattie didn’t need to know what he was thinking to feel comfortable with him. In that way he reminded her of Lars. She’d never been able to read Lars. It had pissed her off at first. He’d seemed like a useless playboy. Then one night he’d shown up out of his mind with worry for her best friend Selena, and Mattie realized his nonchalant exterior was just a smokescreen.

She had a feeling Owen and Lars would have gotten along pretty well. They both had the smokescreen thing going for them. As if they hid behind jokes and sarcasm to make light of their feelings.

Owen gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Who are you thinking about?”

His perceptiveness unnerved her. What was she supposed to say? That she was reminiscing about her last boyfriend while Owen was naked in her bed? There was no way in which that statement did
not
make her sound like a skank.

“Mattie,” he chided. “I’d rather you be honest. We both come complete with pasts. I’m not arrogant enough to think a few hours with me erases every memory of your previous life.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re pretty mind-blowing.” She was only half teasing. The guy could play her body as if fate had created him for that specific purpose.

He brushed her lower lip with his thumb. “Nice try, but I still want to know who put the sadness in your eyes.”

Hiding her connection to Lars from him was pointless. She didn’t know much about Owen, but she knew that. “Just a guy I dated.”

“The one you mentioned before who never called you back?”

“It was a little more complicated than that.” Mattie wished she’d kept her mouth shut. It was actually a
lot
more complicated.

“Meaning?”

She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart. Would Owen be like Lars? She didn’t know him. She didn’t know a thing about him. She should’ve taken one look at the scars on his arms, shoulders, and abdomen, and run the other way. He looked the part of a bad boy, and at this point he was just some guy she’d decided to screw. Why was she making more out of their connection than that?

Owen gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “You loved him.”

“I think I still do.” The words tumbled out before she could swallow them back. She thought she’d cried herself dry when Lars walked out, but the pressure in her eyes grew unbearable, and tears coursed down her cheeks. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I wanted to tell him how I felt.”

Owen’s arms tightened as he scooped her up and held her close. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead as he rocked her against him. “It’s okay to be upset when something good ends.”

His words soothed, though they seemed almost nonsensical. How could it feel so right? How could it feel as though he understood when he couldn’t possibly fathom what it had felt like for her to confess her hopes and dreams to Lars, and then watch him walk out the door and never come back?

Desire and angst twisted in her gut, and Mattie wished it were possible to just let it go, even if it was only for a little while. “I want you inside me, Owen. Make me come. Make me forget.”