Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

LEIGH

Anxiety makes a permanent home in the base of my stomach as I glance at the baby monitor on the kitchen island for the millionth time. If Zach moves—just a little bit or even whimpers—then I have an excuse to go to him and not make this call.

Of course he doesn’t.

The freaking traitor.

Doesn’t he know his mom is on the verge of a panic attack and could really use an out right about now?

As swiftly as the anger hits me, guilt slices just as deep.None of this is his fault, and it’s not his job to save me. He’s an innocent bystander in this mess.

But also, I didn’t ask for this.

Sure. Some people would argue I had sex with Luca, so it’s my own damn fault. To them, I raise a silent middle finger and say I didn’t know antibiotics could negate birth control for a number of days after finishing them. Was that irresponsible of me? Maybe. But I did my best to make sure this didn’t happen.

I’m not saying I don’t love my son. That sweet little boy who is obsessed with horses and afraid of his own shadow is my freaking world. That doesn’t mean there aren’t moments that brand me as human and make me feel like a horrible mother.

This is one of them.

The kicker is, I know one day he is going to grow up and ask about this. And when he does, I need to be able to tell him I did the right thing. I told the truth. I admitted my mistakes and owned my downfalls.

For him.

I’m doing this for him.

But not without a little liquid courage.

I swivel off my stool, round the small island, and grab the bottle of Zinfandel from the fridge. For a split second, I contemplate drinking straight from the bottle. Then I remember the last time I did so and immediately grab a glass from the cupboard.

Hangovers suck when you have a toddler.

Pouring myself a generous amount, I return to my spot and double check that my son still hasn’t moved.

He hasn’t.

The clock on my phone reads eight, which means it’s five o’clock in Los Angeles. Maybe if I wait five more minutes, he’ll be out of the office for the day, and I can just leave a message.

Dread coils inside me, like a snake lying in wait, as I hover my thumb over Luca’s number.

I could make excuses all night if I needed to, but that doesn’t help me, Willow, or Zach.

It’s now or never.

Forcing my finger down, I wait. It rings three times before Luca’s deep, velvet baritone echoes through the speaker.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to call.”

Like a Pavlovian response, his voice takes me back to that night and all the filthy things he uttered while I was on my knees.

Fuck, Little Thief, you take my cock so well.

The whispered praises in my ear as I came all over his thick cock.

You’re such a good fucking girl.

Nope. I can’t do this.

Because this is the part of the truth I conveniently left out when I told my friends about Luca—mostly because I’m ashamed to admit it even to myself. As much as I hate him for what he did when I was young, the moment I hear his voice, I can’t forget the way he made my body sing. It was the same when I saw him at spring training this past March.

Panties instantly wet.

Which is a problem, because even if what started as a hate fuck turned into the kind of passion you only read about in romance novels, none of it was real.

It can’t be.

Not then. And not now.

I swallow hard past the knot in my throat and clench my shaking hands in an attempt to ground myself and remember why I called in the first place.

Monarch Hearts.

Not my cobweb filled pussy.

Make a plan.

Don’t give in to his devilish charm.

End the call.

Simple as that.

“Hello, Mr. Donati,” I say, proud of the way I’m able to keep my voice steady despite the overwhelming urge to vomit.

“Mr. Donati, is it?” Luca chuckles. “I’m fairly certain we’re past formalities, Ms. James.”

Why? Because I know what you sound like when you come?

The snark is on the tip of my tongue, but I somehow manage to keep it to myself. “I’m calling about setting up some time for us to meet and discuss the Monarch Hearts’’ chapter. Your assistant let me know you’d be handling it directly, and I should coordinate with you.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I think maybe the call has been disconnected when Luca finally speaks. “Okay. Then let’s figure out a time you can come out here after the first of the year, so we can get everything set up.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work,” I snap, followed by a wince as I remember this is my job, and he is the owner of the Monarchs, not just my maybe-baby-daddy.

I sip my wine and let out a weary sigh. “The commissioner wants everything on his desk by the thirty-first. I don't need to come out to Los Angeles. Most of the other chapters I was able to get squared away over a few phone calls. The in-person stuff will come later when we get the rec centers built.”

“Hmm,” Luca muses and I brace for what I’m sure is going to be a bullshit answer. “Unfortunately, that’s not going to work for me. I’m already out of town, and I won’t be back until after the holidays.”

“You won’t have access to your phone or email?” I ask, grasping at straws. “I could just coordinate with your assistant.”

“As Roy told you, I’m going to be handling this myself, and no, reception will be spotty here at best.” I don’t miss the hint of smugness in his tone. “You’re lucky I was able to take this call at all.”

The bastard knows what he’s doing. I’d bet money he’s retaliating because I didn’t answer his call the week after we hooked up. Then again, after he saw me at spring training. Or the ten other times he’s tried since.

Shit.

Willow’s going to kill me.

Our first big partnership and I’m already fucking it up.

“Please, Luca.” I soften my voice, apparently no longer above begging. “I need to get this done for Willow by the end of the year. You know how important this is to her.”

“I know exactly how important this is to both of you. Which begs the question, why have you waited until the last minute to do this?”

“You just happened to be the last team on the docket,” I lie, hating the way it’s become so easy to do so, but I also don’t like the way he emphasized the word both . Like he’s trying to make sure I know this is about me too.

If only he knew the truth.

“I’m sure.” Luca’s voice drips with sarcasm, and I can picture the sexy way he cocks his brow when he’s caught me in a lie.

Tell me you want me, Little Thief.

I hate you.

Which only makes you want me more.

Damn it.

I can’t think about that right now.

“Listen,” I implore. “What can we do so this gets done in time? Willow can’t afford to be in hot water with the commissioner after the scandal with her father this past year.”

He hesitates and I picture him chewing his lower lip the way he did just before he told me I could leave or hate fuck the shit out of him.

“Meet me in Telluride.”

I blink, convinced I’ve misheard him. Because there’s no way he just asked me to go with him on vacation. “Colorado?”

“You said you need to get this done by the end of the year. I’m in Telluride with some friends for the holidays. Come here.”

“I can’t just crash your vacation with your friends. Nor do I want to. You hate me, remember?”

Luca doesn’t miss a beat and fires back. “I absolutely do not hate you. And don’t think of it as crashing a vacation. Think of it as a work trip with a little tinsel.”

“What is it with everyone and tinsel? It’s not even a good Christmas decoration.”

“I didn’t know you were a grinch, Ms. Bennett.”

“It’s James and you know it,” I snap. “Plus, you might not hate me, but you absolutely don’t like me.”

“My dick says otherwise,” he mutters, and I get the feeling it wasn’t a sentiment meant for my ears.

Which is too damn bad because at this point the gloves are off, and I’m not about to let it go.

“That’s what this is about?” I screech, immediately regretting my choice when I see Zach stir on the monitor.

Five painfully slow seconds pass, and I watch to make sure he isn’t about to wake up and choose violence. When I’m sure he’s still asleep, I lower my voice and whisper yell into the phone. “You want me to come to Telluride for a freaking booty call?”

“No,” he whispers back. “I want you to—Fuck, why are we whispering?”

I roll my eyes. “My son is asleep, and I don’t want to wake him.”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I fucked up.

Even more so when Luca’s voice perks up. “You have a son?”

Damn it. This isn’t how I meant for him to find out. Not that I had a plan. Hell, I barely decided today that I might consider telling him. And that’s only because Willow made some good points about Zach deserving to know his dad, and I have a guilty conscience.

“Leigh,” he presses with privileged impatience.

I huff in frustration and force a professional, per-my-last-email tone. “Yes. Which is why I can’t come to Telluride just because your dick likes me.”

Okay, so maybe professional went out the window a long time ago.

Luca lets out a long breath, mumbling a curse as he does, and I imagine him rolling his eyes, trying to find some semblance of order to this conversation.

Welcome to the club, buddy.

I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to be a total clusterfuck.I’m also realizing it’s far too easy for my mind to fill in the blanks of what he looks like on the other end of this phone, and I don’t think I like what that implies.

“That came out wrong.”

I tilt my head for no one’s benefit but my own. “Ya think?”

“Listen, I want you to come to Telluride so we can get everything set up for Monarch Hearts. My friends and I rented a place and there’s plenty of room. I’ve been hoping to see you. We can get Monarch Hearts all dialed in…” His voice trails off like there’s more he wants to say.

When he doesn’t, I offer him a resounding, “This is a bad idea.”

For so many reasons. Primarily because I don’t trust him, but I also don’t think I can trust myself around him.

And what does he mean by he’s been hoping to see me?

No. I stop myself from going down that rabbit hole.

Professional is best. We can meet in his office. At the stadium. Anywhere that isn’t a vacation home in the mountains. With snow. Real snow. Not the stuff we get here in New York City that covers the spaces between buildings. Snow like back in Michigan that sweeps across fields and mountains, sticking to every towering tree.

I never thought I’d be homesick for a place that ruined so much of my life.

“Leigh, I also wanted to apologize for...” He stops himself, searching for words, and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for him to finish. “...for what happened back home.”

My jaw drops. You could tell me pigs were flying outside my window, and I’d believe you sooner than I’d believe the words coming out of this man's mouth.

I sit up a little straighter on my stool, anger coursing through me to the point my body feels like it’s vibrating. “Donatis don’t apologize.”

Those were the words he told me ten years ago when I was nothing but a scared fifteen-year-old, trying to get her life back to normal.

“Please, Leigh.” Desperation, like a prayer, laces his tone, and I loathe the way it pulls at my heartstrings.

“If you have something to say, you can say it right now,” I declare, standing my ground .

“It’s really something I’d rather do in person.”

“Luca,” I snap, my rage getting the better of me. “I can’t just leave on such short notice. I don’t have a sitter, and even if I did, I can’t leave my almost two-year-old just because you want me to. We have to work together, but that doesn’t mean we have to fix everything between us all in one go.”

“He’s two?”

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Panic grips my spine and I worry my lower lip, knowing damn well Luca isn’t stupid.

Why do I keep slipping up with him?

My mind scrambles for something, anything, to say that isn’t yup , with a sarcastic pop of the P at the end, but nothing formulates.

“Bring him with you,” Luca offers, his tone even and giving nothing away.

“You—you want me to bring my son to a work trip in Telluride?” I stammer, trying to work out how much he’s figured out and what he’s thinking.

“If that’s what it takes to get you here, then yes.” He pauses and I hear the faint sound of people cheering in the background before he continues, “I’ve spent far too many years regretting my actions, and the last time we spent more than a few minutes together, there wasn’t exactly much talking going on.”

I wince. “Please don’t remind me.”

I’ve already relived it multiple times during this phone call and will likely have to take care of myself later.

“The house is big enough that you’ll have your own room,” he continues, ignoring my protests. “We can work on getting Monarch Hearts set up. Then we can talk, and you and your son can leave and be home for Christmas.”

“This is insane,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

“Please, Leigh,” he rasps.

Fuck.

Why do I have to be a sucker for guys who beg?

Still, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I can’t, when my eyes fall to the little boy cuddling with his stuffed horse.

What if Zach is a Donati?

Was Willow right? Do I need to give him a chance?

What if Luca really has changed, and this is him making amends?

I know the right answer, but fuck if that’s what I want to do.

“Luca, if I do this, there’s something you need to know?—”

“Leigh,” he cuts me off, “I was an accounting major. I’m good with numbers.”

“I know but?—”

“We’ll talk about it in Telluride.”

His voice gives away none of his emotions, but mine does. It wobbles as I try to confess. “This isn’t…You might?—”

“In. Telluride.” Luca punctuates each word, and this time I can hear every bit of the agitation he’s trying to hide.

I chew my lower lip to the point of breaking skin, the copper taste of my blood flooding my tastebuds. I can’t believe I’m considering this. It’s crazy. Insane. The exact opposite of everything I’ve ever done. I’m not the impulsive one. That’s Indie. Nor am I the whimsical one. That’s Willow. I’m the logical one. The one that holds our little group together with reason and calm. I always have a plan.

This is not part of the plan.

Then again, neither was Zach, and he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

“Fine.” I sigh, praying I don’t regret this manic moment of bravery on behalf of my son. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Zach and I get our own place to stay.” If I’m going to do this, we need a place that we can retreat to the moment this all becomes too much—for me or for Zach.

“Done.”

“Really?” I ask, my voice cracking. “That simple?”

“I meant what I said. I want to apologize.” The sincerity in his voice makes me think he’s serious. “And it seems we have more to talk about as well.”

Then he goes and ruins it with snark.

I roll my eyes and sigh with hardly any confidence left.

Because he’s not wrong.

“Okay,” I agree. “But for the record, this is strictly business. No more talk about your dick.”

Luca chuckles. “I swear not to mention my dick unless it’s you who asks about him.”

“I won’t,” I grind out.

“Good, because I don’t fuck thieves.”

My jaw drops as he ends the call.

The fucking audacity of this man.

But as his words sink in, I’m smacked by the weight of them.

Fifteen years ago, I might not have been the thief he accused me of being, but if Zach is his son, I’ve become the worst kind of thief.

Because, unlike jewelry, time can never be replaced.