Here for You (2 page)

Now I know I definitely have had too much to drink because I’m finding I need to close one eye to type and read my texts so I can see them straight.

From: Quinn

Girl, I’m always there for u. No matter what. And quit the stupid talk, u know I will break up with Francis before we land or within a day of being home. But I do have to say he has been an excellent distraction from my real life.

From: Ashley

Please, NO details over text! I’ll talk to u when u get home. Love u!

From: Quinn

I will save them for our first break-up drink together. Love u too!

I slide the phone in my pocket and pick up my plate along with the empty bottle of wine. I’m so going to feel this tomorrow, but at least I’m not feeling anything right now.

First things first. Pain killers. From there I can move into the regular routine of my Saturday. The only difference this morning is that I have to remind myself that I’m single and I need to remember this for later. My typical night of sex this week was taken away from me yesterday. In a good week, I might have had sex multiple times. Now, this is not to confuse multiple times of sex with multiple orgasms. Hardly. I was lucky if I got one ‘O’ a week. For some reason I was really looking forward to it this week. I guess instinctively I knew I was going to be deprived of it.

After swallowing some Advil, I click away responses to some of the most important emails. Too many to get through as always, but I have to finish what I can to make my life easier come Monday. They never stop, which normally I don’t mind, but right now I actually would welcome a little peace and quiet.

Knowing it will help me, I call my assistant, Lizzy, and give her a few things to do over the weekend. She will receive comp time for the hours she’s working this weekend. Oh, who am I kidding, there’s no time to take comp time, so most likely she’ll never get these hours back. But before you think I’m still in bitch-mode, she gets paid very well for what she does, and she will be up for promotion much earlier than she ever expected. She does a fantastic job for me, and I honestly don’t want to give her up as my assistant, but it’s more important to me that I don’t lose her completely. I need people with her drive and passion.

I force myself to eat something, and I’m proud when it stays down. I never should have drunk so much last night, and I deserve to feel worse than I do right now. Thankfully, I manage to get through a few more hours of work before I decide it’s time to go for a run. I came to the beach house to get away from the city and enjoy the weather.

I slide on a pair of black running shorts and grab one of my favorite bright pink tank tops. At this moment I can really use anything that makes me feel better about myself. Seeing your fiancé in bed with another woman doing things he’s never done with you is a serious hit to the ego.

Second knot done, I pat the top of my shoes before standing up to grab my iPod. Earbuds in, I set the music to one of my running playlists. One that’s on the heavy side and sure to encourage the brisk pace I need to clear my head of all other thoughts.

My mom’s house is about an hour and a half north of San Francisco. The drive along the coast is peaceful, and more importantly, it’s a safe distance between the city and me. Being on the beach is therapeutic, and I now understand more than ever why my mom spent so much time here.

There are a few miles of uninterrupted beach and the ocean breeze feels perfect today. When I take off, no one is outside the house next door. Maybe they were renting during the week and have already taken off, which would be a shame for them. In my opinion there’s nothing like a lazy weekend on the ocean.

I turn around about two miles in as my breathing is already labored and my legs feel like they each have a twenty-pound weight attached. I only have myself to blame. I know this. If I hadn’t consumed mass quantities of wine, I would be feeling a million times better. But I’m not sure how anyone could expect me not to drown my sorrows. I know it wasn’t the only solution and not my usual go-to, but it seemed like the easiest quick-fix last night.

Sadness starts to creep in as I near my house. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in shock for the last twenty-four hours, which is why I wasn’t myself last night and, to be honest, not as broken up as I should have been. I rub my eyes to keep the unshed tears in. If I can at least hold them in until I’m inside my house, I’ll feel better. Safer to cry in solitude. Never in public.

Caught up in my thoughts, I almost miss seeing Mr. Hottie on the beach in front of his house. He’s not wearing a shirt again, but the vision of him holding his young son is thankfully enough to dampen any inappropriate thoughts. As I near my deck, he unexpectedly turns toward the water and the smile on his face at whatever he’s telling his son is almost enough to take me down. My legs feel weak from the beautiful smile. That, combined with the extra forty pounds I feel like I’m carrying forces me to use all of my focus to make the last few strides up the beach to my deck.

I know the smile is not intended for me but rather for the benefit of his son. However, it’s nearly impossible to look away. He must notice me staring at him because he lifts his hand to wave, and I honestly almost turn to see if he’s possibly waving at someone behind me. Rather than make either one of us feel stupid, or at least me, I give a half-smile and a small wave in return as I climb the stairs to my deck.

Once inside, I practically run to the master bath to jump in the shower. The overwhelming sadness is hitting, and I need to call Quinn. I was naïve to believe that I was going to be completely immune to what happened yesterday. I need to talk to her again and hear the words that only Quinn will know to say. She’s my rock, and I’m starting to wish I had asked her to come back. I need to get myself in a better place by Monday morning so I can walk into my company with my head held high.
Shit
. This is going to be harder than I originally thought.

“Sounds good. Do you want me to come with?”

“No. You go on up and take that bath you’ve been dying to have since you got here.”

“You got it. You certainly don’t have to tell me twice.”

Monica walks over to give me a hug, and as I’ve become accustomed to doing, I wrap my arms around her for a good five seconds. I know that during those seconds she feels comfort and security. It’s the least I can do, and I have given up feeling guilty about it. At first I just didn’t think it was right to hug my brother’s wife that way, but now I understand it’s what she needs.

“Don’t stay up too late.” I start to walk to the patio door and turn back over my shoulder. “Remember, I leave early tomorrow morning, and I’m on the road for the week. Are you going to be okay here by yourself?”

She waves her hand at me. “Of course, we’ll be fine. Cameron and I will enjoy the beach and do some exploring around town and nearby.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything. I probably won’t see you in the morning because I have to be out before sunrise.”

“Thanks, Cam. Try to have a good week.”

I nod at her before I turn back to walk out on the deck. Although I’ve sworn off women for the rest of my life—or at least for the next thirty or forty years—I’m intrigued by the creature next door. I want to see her up close at the very least. That tight body she was showing off today would be enough for any man to take notice. From a distance she appears beautiful, like Victoria-Secret-model gorgeous. Even though I absolutely refuse to date one or even get involved with one right now, I can still appreciate the view of a beautiful woman.

I see lights on around her back deck, and I’m hopeful she’s outside so I don’t have to appear creepy by knocking on her door to introduce myself. I remind myself that’s all I’m doing. I want to see if someone will be close by for Monica and Cameron should they need anything while I’m on the road.

As I near the steps I see a figure sitting on some crazy daybed pod that looks like it could be from outer space. Although it does look comfortable with the nearly fifty pillows thrown around on the very cushioned surface.

Halfway up the staircase I hear a small sob.
Shit!
Why do I do these things to myself? The last thing I can handle right now is an emotional woman. I quickly run the options through my head and realize I can try and turn around before she notices me or I have to continue forward. These are my only real choices.

I try to turn around on the step, but it creaks and her head shoots up.
Shit!
I can’t pretend like I don’t see her, and she certainly sees me based on how round her eyes are now. Feeling like an ass for interrupting a private moment, I continue up the last few stairs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to come over and introduce myself.” I glance to her side and see a box of Kleenex along with a very large pile of used tissues. Oh man, this is not good.

Although I want to turn around and run back to the house next door, I’m rooted in my spot when I see the pain and vulnerability in her beautiful eyes. Even though some of the initial fear has left them, they are still quite large. I’m honestly having a difficult time determining if they are green or brown. I know that sounds crazy because they are two very distinct colors, but I’ve never seen eyes like hers. They’re so mesmerizing I almost walk right up to kiss the pain away.
No!
No, I’m not even going to think of doing something so stupid right now.

“Um, it’s okay.” She sniffles, but I notice there are no more tears falling. She appears calmer. “I was just getting something out of my system.”

I chuckle at her light-hearted approach to whatever is wrong. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you getting it completely out.”

She laughs, a soft sound, and shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I’m Ashley.”

I hesitate to offer my hand because I don’t want her to feel forced to shake it if she doesn’t want the physical contact with a guy. I can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s some idiot that hurt her. I know the difference between loss and betrayal. She was betrayed. I’ve had too much experience with both types of pain, so unfortunately, I can get a good read.

Against my better judgment, I take the last couple of steps to be within reaching distance and put my hand out to her. “I’m Cam. Or Cameron. Either one is fine.”

Her eyes shift to my hand and I notice the slight widening of her eyes. Again. Yep, I made the wrong call. She doesn’t want to have to take it, so I quickly drop my hand. This seems to confuse her more but she doesn’t comment on it.

I look at the circle couch-thing and realize that if I sit on the side opposite her there will still be a good three feet of space between us. I hope that doesn’t make her uncomfortable, but for some reason I’m not quite ready to turn and head back to the house. I’m not sure that she wants me to stay, but I’m hoping a few minutes will be okay. I need just a few more to take in the beauty of this woman.

The only description I can think of that would even start to do her justice is an angel. She looks angelic with her blond waves around her shoulders and those large doe eyes staring up at me. I’m afraid to spend any time looking at her lips for fear that I will not be able to stop myself from tasting them. Right now, I know they’re parted and turned down slightly on each side. I want to kiss the sadness away and help her understand that whoever hurt her is an asshole because if I had her, I would hold on and never let go. Ever.

“Do you mind?” I nod my head toward the couch. Without hesitation, she shakes her head. Good. I’m feeling marginally better that she may not feel like I’m intruding on her alone time.

“Is your son sleeping?”

I hear the question, but it takes me a moment to register what she’s asking. I smile. “No. I mean, yes he’s sleeping, but he’s not my son. That’s my nephew, Cameron. His mother is Monica, my sister-in-law.”

Something crosses her face and my eyes flick down briefly to see the corners of her mouth lift up the smallest bit.

“I see. How long are you staying in the house?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning, but Monica will be here for the next month or so.” I shrug my shoulders. “Not sure exactly how long but for a while. Do you live here full-time?”

She shakes her head and then glances down at her phone when it starts ringing. She looks back up at me as she holds a finger up. “I’m sorry. This will only take a minute, but I have to pick it up.”

I nod and bite back my laugh. If nothing else, I have got to see whom the person is that goes along with that ringtone, “Maneater” by Hall & Oates.

“Hey, girl.”

I can’t hear what the other person is saying, but I can tell she’s animated.

“No. Absolutely not.” Ashley is shaking her head even though I’m the only one that can see her. “I promise you I’m fine. Please do
not
get on a plane. Q, I’ll be more upset if you show up here.”

She’s still shaking her head while she listens again.

“I know. I’m sorry I called earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I promise I’m doing much better.” She shrugs her shoulders at me with a guilty look.

Yes, I’m aware that she clearly is not doing better at least as of five minutes ago when I caught her crying.

“Quinn, I love you but I will be very upset if you cut your vacation short to come here and take care of me.”

I get the gist of the conversation. This must be her best friend or at least a very close girlfriend. I gently place my hand on her knee to get her attention again. She looks up at me, confusion apparent on her face.

“Can you put it on speaker?”

She puts her hand over the phone. “Why?”