Finding Him: Second Chance Billionaire Romance (Finding Love Book 1), page 9
As he passes them to me, I rinse the plates and stack them in the dishwasher. It’s been nice having company, and if I’m honest, I’m not ready for him to go yet.
“Do you mind if we hold off on dessert for a bit? I’m stuffed,” I say, placing my hand on my stomach.
“Wow, dessert too? You’ve really gone all out.”
“A bit, but I’ve missed cooking for others,” I say, wiping my hands on a tea towel.
“There’s been no one else since Jake?”
“No.” I see a small smile tug at his lips when I say that, though I don’t know why he finds that pleasing. “What happened with him has put me off relationships for now.” My words come out a little sterner than anticipated, but it’s the truth. Having my heart broken by someone who meant the world to me, isn’t something I can get over easily.
“That’s understandable. I went through something similar years ago, so I can relate.”
His reply surprises me. “Your wife cheated on you?”
“No, I’ve never been married.” He chuckles as he leans up against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d been dating this woman for a while—well, two years, actually. We met at uni, and I thought one day we’d get married.” That’s where Jake and I met, but I don’t tell him that. “My father had me working ridiculously long hours. He was getting ready to retire and thought it was imperative I learn the ins and outs of the company before taking over.” He uncrosses his arms and his fingers grip the edge of the countertop. “Anyway, to cut a long story short, I felt bad for not being around as much as I would’ve liked, so I surprised her with tickets to see her favourite band, but then something came up last minute at the office, and I couldn’t make it. I asked my best mate to take her, which turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”
I gasp when I realise where he’s going with this. “Something happened between them?”
“Let’s just say they’re now married with two kids.”
Reaching out, I place my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry that happened to you … and with your best friend of all people.”
“In hindsight, he was a player, so I should’ve known better. We’d been friends for fifteen years though, so I thought I could trust him.”
“That’s awful. I can’t believe either of them did that to you.”
He shrugs before pushing off the bench. “Would you like another drink?”
“Sure.”
I follow him back into the main room. Talking about it obviously still bothers him. I guess I can understand that. Reliving my situation with Jake is something I avoid at all costs, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get past the betrayal.
He pours champagne into both glasses before picking up his and downing it in one gulp. Reaching for my own drink, I take a seat at the table.
“So,” he says, joining me, “where did you learn to cook?” He’s changing the subject, and I’m okay with that. Sometimes the past is better left just there.
I run the tip of my finger around the top of my glass as I speak. “My mum worked in a lot of restaurants when I was growing up and taught me all the basics, but Miss Jones, the old lady who cared for me while my Mum worked her many jobs, taught me how to bake. She was old school and did everything from scratch.”
I smile when I think of her. She became like a surrogate grandmother to me over the years. She was also the one who taught me how to play the piano. She was so patient and kind, and I miss her so much. She died when I was fourteen. Even though we were close, her death did nothing to prepare me for losing my mother years later. That’s a grief I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.
“She was obviously a good teacher,” he says. “Your cooking skills are very impressive.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes meet mine across the table, so I lift my glass towards my mouth. There’s something about the way he looks at me that’s unnerving—it’s not creepy, but it’s a look that says I need to be wary around this man. My heart will be in danger if I’m not cautious.
“You know a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Placing the glass against my lips I take a drink to avoid replying. “If you keep cooking for me like this, I’m going to have no choice but to marry you.”
His words have me inhaling too much air, causing me to choke on the liquid in my mouth, which has the champagne projecting out and spraying all over him. My hand flies up to my face. “Shit,” is all I manage to squeeze out between my coughing.
He throws back his head and bursts out laughing.
Picking up a handful of the paper serviettes from the table, I quickly stand. I’m still trying to regain my composure as I desperately wipe the champagne from his face. “I’m so sorry.” He’s still laughing, but I’m mortified. “Please forgive me.”
“Stop apologising.”
“Things were going so well …” I feel tears sting the back of my eyes as I speak, so I retreat a step and bow my head.
“Hey,” he says, standing and closing the distance between us. Logan places his finger under my chin to raise my face to meet his. “Things are still going well. It will take a lot more than a champagne shower to ruin it. This is the best evening I’ve had in a very long time.”
I see the sincerity in his beautiful green eyes as he speaks. “Your life must be pretty boring then.” When he smiles, I do the same.
“I don’t get out much,” he says, with a shrug. “All work and no play, so they say.”
“I can relate to that.”
I take in a sharp breath as his thumb tenderly glides across my cheek. “I’m so glad I ran into you again.”
“Me too,” I reply, but it comes out more like a whisper.
We stand there for the longest time, and a part of me wishes he’d kiss me, but I can’t let that happen. Breaking the moment, I pull back, making sure to put some distance between us.
“My bathroom is at the end of the hall if you want to clean up. I’ll go and get dessert ready.”
“Right,” he says.
I see disappointment flash through his eyes before I turn and head into the kitchen. The moment I’m alone, I blow out a puff of air. As much as I’ve enjoyed his company tonight, I’m going to need to keep my distance from this one … he makes me feel things I shouldn’t.
Chapter 14
Logan
After washing my face in the basin, I place my hands on either side of the porcelain sink and stare into the mirror. It’s been years since I’ve opened up about my ex, but I wanted her to know that I understood what she went through. To be honest, what happened with Amanda turned me off relationships, that is until Brooke came into my life.
I knew before coming here tonight that I’m attracted to this woman, but the sheer volume of just how much scares me. Never in my life has someone had me so captivated. I wanted to kiss her so badly just now, and for a moment I thought she wanted that too.
“Damn it,” I mumble, tightening my grip on the sink. I let her walk out of my life once; I won’t make that mistake again. I need to play it cool, to give her time. Rushing in is only going to scare her away.
For months I’ve thought about her. After a while, I tried to convince myself that it was only pity I was feeling, sympathy for all she went through that night. But now that we’ve reconnected, I can no longer lie to myself. I want her in my life. She may not see it, but there’s something special here. I’ve been with enough women in my time to know that. She’s not only beautiful, but incredibly sweet, and so easy to be around. And I’m in awe of her strength and the new life she’s forging for herself, despite the odds.
Picking up the hand towel, I wipe my face. Do not blow this, Cavanagh. Shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans, I head back into the main room. The champagne bottle is empty, and I’m wishing I brought a second one because I need another drink.
Pulling out the chair, I go to sit, but as I do, something crashes in the kitchen. Without hesitating, I dash in that direction. I come to a grinding halt in the doorway when I see the look on her face. She’s as white as a sheet. My eyes follow her line of sight and a smile tugs on my lips when I see the plate she must’ve been carrying shattered on the floor. Looks like dessert is ruined.
“Let me help you with that.” Her eyes dart to me as I step into the room and crouch down in front of the mess. “As amazing as this looks, I’m still full from the other two courses,” I say, trying to put her at ease. When Brooke doesn’t speak, I look up at her, and I’m surprised to see tears welling in her eyes. “Hey, it’s nothing to get upset about.” I see the other dessert still sitting on the counter. “We can share the other one if it means so much to you.”
“I’m not upset about the dessert.”
I stand to my full height, extending my hand to help her up. “But you look like you’re about to cry.”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” she says, turning away from me.
Is it me? Maybe our little moment earlier has spooked her. “If I’ve done something to upset you, then, of course, I’m going to worry about it.” Her back remains to me, so I lightly grip her upper arm and turn her around. “Hey.”
When I see the tears cascading down her pretty face, I pull her into my arms.
“Who’s doing this?” she whispers.
I draw back to meet her eyes. “Doing what?”
She turns her head and points to the floor. I see her phone lying near the cupboard. Letting her go, I walk towards it and pick it up. The screen is cracked, but I can still read what the message says.
Unknown: I’m watching you, YOU FUCKING BITCH!
I swing around to face her again. “Did someone just send you this?” She replies with a nod as she wipes the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Probably the same person who threw a brick through my window two nights ago.”
“Someone threw a brick through your window?” I ask, my eyes widening.
“Yes. The word ‘bitch’ was written on it. The police said it could’ve been a case of mistaken identity, but after this …” She shrugs and points to the phone in my hand, and I see red.
“Go pack some stuff. You’re not staying here.”
“What? No.”
“Brooke, I’m not leaving you here while some lunatic is throwing bricks through your window, and sending you messages like this.” I hold up the phone to prove my point.
“I can’t just leave.”
“You can and you will. Now go and pack some clothes, or I’ll pack some for you.” She crosses her arms over her chest, but I’m not intimidated one bit. I raise an eyebrow when she opens her mouth to speak again. “I’m dead serious,” I threaten.
When she turns in a huff and storms from the room, her sass has me rolling my lips together to hide my amusement. Pulling out my phone, I text Chris.
Logan: I’m ready.
He replies straight away.
Chris: Be there in ten.
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I go in search of Brooke.
After bundling her into the backseat of the limousine—under duress—I search the perimeter of her house. Either the perpetrator has already fled, or wasn’t even here to begin with. Either way, I’m not comfortable leaving her here.
When I climb in beside her, I can feel her body trembling next to mine. Sliding my arm around her, I pull her towards me.
“It’s going to be okay,” I say, placing a kiss on her hair. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I hope so,” she whispers.
“To the penthouse, Mr. Cavanagh?” Chris asks, starting the ignition.
“No, to the police station.”
I can’t let this slide. It could be someone trying to frighten or intimidate her, but there’s a chance it’s something more sinister, like Jake, so I won’t rest until this person is caught.
I turn my attention back to Brooke. “Do you have any idea who would do this? Do you think it’s Jake?”
She pulls back from me as her eyes meet mine. “He did cross my mind, but I haven’t had any contact with him in eight months. And this doesn’t seem like something he’d do. Wouldn’t he just knock on my door or approach me in the street?”
“I don’t know him as well as you do, but if he’s still taking drugs, who knows what his frame of mind is.”
“Jake doesn’t take drugs,” she scoffs. “He’s always been against them.”
“Well, maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. When I had his office cleaned out after I fired him, cocaine was found in his drawer.”
She pauses and looks down at her lap. “I had no idea,” she eventually says. “But if it’s true, it explains so much.”
“I’m not making it up.”
“Wait, you fired him?”
“I did.” She sighs as she turns to look out the window. “Brooke, I had no choice.”
“I know,” she says, looking back at me. “I just feel bad, his career meant everything to him.”
Her comment pisses me off. “Obviously, the drugs meant more to him than his career, and his secretary meant more to him than his wife.” I remove my arm from around her when she gasps, and scrub my hands over my face. “I’m sorry. That comment was uncalled for.”
“You’re probably right,” is all she says, as she wraps her arms around herself before gazing back out the window.
Tilting my head back and resting it on the seat, I rub the palms of my hands down the front of my jeans. I feel like an arsehole now.
No words are spoken on the drive to the police station. It’s a short commute, but it feels like an eternity. Her comment caught me off guard because I can’t fathom why she’d have any empathy for him, especially after what he did to her. I exhale a long breath. I guess I need to understand that Jake was once her husband and probably meant the world to her. Either way, he doesn’t deserve her compassion, but she’s probably not as cynical as me. My job has hardened me over the years. I’ve dealt with enough scum in my time and stopped giving a fuck a long time ago.
“You okay?” I ask as I extend my hand, helping her from the vehicle. She just shrugs. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
She squeezes my hand before mumbling, “Thank you.”
We have to wait for a while to be seen, and Brooke’s on edge. When I ask, she assures me that she’s okay, but the consistent biting of her thumb nail tells me otherwise.
Eventually, someone comes to greet us, and I learn he’s one of the officers who attended her home the other night. I’m glad it’s someone who’s already familiar with the case.
“Take a seat,” he says, leading us into one of the interview rooms. “I believe you received a threatening text message?”
“Yes,” Brooke answers, taking a seat. I take the chair beside her as she proceeds to pull out her phone and pass it to him.
“A restaurant was vandalised down the street from your place the same night as the brick went through your window, so we presumed it was just some punk being a dickhead. Now I’m not so sure.”
“I actually work at that restaurant,” she says, bowing her head.
“I see,” he replies, leaning back in his chair. My jaw ticks as I listen.
“I know we spoke about this the other night, but do you have any idea who could be doing this?” She shakes her head. “Have you ever received messages like this in the past?”
She pauses briefly before answering. “Yes, but that was months ago.”
The officer picks up his pen and jots something down. “Do you know who sent the other messages?”
“Yes. My estranged husband.”
“Were they threatening in any way?”
“Mostly, yes. But then I changed my number and they stopped. As I told you the other night, I’ve had no contact with him in eight months.”
“Has he ever been violent towards you in the past?”
Her eyes dart to me before falling to her lap. “Once—the day I left him. He tried to strangle me.”
Keeping my composure and trying not to react to everything I’m hearing is imperative, but in this instance, I’m struggling. Pushing my chair back, I stand and start to pace as I analyse her words. The day she left him was the same day I let her go home to face that animal on her own. Fuck.
Chapter 15
Brooke
My head is spinning as we leave the police station. Logan barely spoke a word the entire time, which concerns me. Is he upset with me? I know he said I wasn’t in this alone, but I’m okay if he’s changed his mind. After all, this is my problem, not his.
The moment we step into the night air, he stops and turns towards me. I can see the anguish marring his features as his eyes scan my face. Is this where he sends me on my way? I wouldn’t hold it against him if he did.
I open my mouth to speak, but before the words are even out, I’m bundled in his arms. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t more insistent about taking you home from the hospital that day.”
“What?” I say, looking up at him confused. “Is that why you were pacing back and forth like a caged animal in the interview room?”
“As soon as you mentioned what he’d done to you that day, I felt like I was going to burst an artery.”
“Why?” I ask. “None of that was your fault.”
His hands move to my shoulders as he draws back to make eye contact with me. “Don’t you see? I could’ve stopped it from happening.”
“How? If I’d pulled up outside with you, knowing what I know now, I think it would’ve made the situation worse.”
He wraps me in his arms again, holding me tight. “I’m an arsehole. I feel like I let you down.”
“You are the furthest thing from an arsehole. You saved my life, remember?”
He doesn’t let go for the longest time. I’m not going to lie—it feels good in his arms. It’s been so long since I’ve been held like this. I inhale through my nose; I could drown in his manly scent.
