A Tragic Wreck (Beautiful Mess 2)
Page 50Alexander grabbed Kiera’s arm, spinning her back around to face him. Raising his left hand, he growled, “Do you see a fucking ring on this finger?!”
Kiera gasped, not speaking for a moment while her brain processed what he had just said. “What do you mean, Alex?” she asked quietly.
“What do you think I mean, Kiera?” he replied, lowering his voice and releasing his grasp on her arm. “I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t go through with it.”
“Why do you want to know where Livvy is?” Mo asked, wanting to protect his friend. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea, telling you that.”
“Please, Mo. I’m begging you. I know I’ve been such a prick these past few weeks. I should have stopped all this foolishness the second she walked back into my life, but I didn’t. I pushed her away because I was scared of getting hurt again and losing control. I knew that it was the same thing Olivia did so why was it okay for me to do it and not her? Earlier, as I was watching Chelsea walk down the aisle, all I could hear in my head was my mother’s voice, saying to follow my heart and not my head. And when Chelsea’s father pushed back her veil, all I could think about was how I wished it was Olivia standing next to me. And then the minister started going on and on about Adam and Eve, the first woman and man…”
Kiera gasped.
“I think it surprised Chelsea, too. She looked at me and just knew that I was about to walk out. It was almost like it was a sign. Olivia is my Eve, and she always will be. So please, you need to tell me where she is. I’m begging you both.”
Kiera looked up at Alexander, and could see how upset and sincere he looked. “She’s back in Florida,” she whispered.
Alexander’s eyes lit up and he kissed Kiera on the cheek. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
He ran from the room.
Alexander laughed as he leapt out the front door into the snow storm, speeding to his waterfront penthouse, hoping that the airport had a runway clear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SOLACE
AT MIDDAY ON SUNDAY, Olivia pulled her car into the sandy driveway of her little beach cottage. The air was thick with an early season humidity as she hauled her luggage from the trunk into the house, making sure Nepenthe was comfortable with food and water before unpacking her belongings.
Everything looked just as she had left it, including her piano. It was still there. Nothing had changed, but everything was different. Alexander was now married. It was over. She lost him. Trying to subdue the lump that had formed in her throat at the thought of Alexander and Chelsea spending the rest of their lives together, she raided the cabinets, hoping that she had left some liquor behind. No such luck.
Grabbing her purse, not caring that she looked like hell from driving for the past twenty hours with barely any breaks, she headed out her front door, slamming into a tall, hard body wearing a wetsuit from his hips down.
“Jesus!” she exclaimed before looking up. “Cam.” She inhaled sharply when her gaze met his intense silver eyes. “What are you doing here?” she whimpered, unable to avert her eyes from his naked chest and sculpted body, thinking that it was sinful for a psychiatrist to look that good. Damn it, Libby! Get your head out of the gutter!
“I guess I can ask the same of you,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “But I know the answer.” He lowered his eyes, brushing a wayward curl out of her face. “Are you okay?”
She searched Cam's gentle face, his kindness overwhelming her. After everything she had been through the past several months, after everything she had put Cam through, she was surprised to see him standing on her deck, still worried about whether she was okay.
“Hey, Libby,” he said, lowering himself and pulling her into his arms. She exhaled through the sobs, savoring the comfort of his embrace. She needed him at that moment.
“I’m not going to say that it will be alright because I’m sure you don’t want to hear that right now.”
“I couldn’t stay there, Cam. I just cracked,” she cried. “I had to leave that city. Everywhere I turned there was another reminder of how I ruined everything. I couldn’t bear it anymore.”
Cam soothed her tears as he held on to her fragile body, worried about how much weight she had lost. “Libby, when was the last time you ate anything?” he asked after several long minutes.
She wiped her face, the tears finally subsiding. “I can’t remember. Maybe Friday?”
“Jesus, Libby. It’s fucking Sunday afternoon. We’re going to get some food right now,” he growled, standing up and pulling her with him toward the Wrangler that she had failed to notice was parked in front of her house.
“Cam, please. I just want some liquor to dull the pain. That’s all. I’m too much of a wreck to be out in public.”
He sighed. “Fine. Then I’ll take you to my place and cook for you. No argument. If I have to kidnap you, I fucking will, Libby.”
Her eyes grew wide as she listened to his voice full of anger and passion. It reminded her of Alexander. Her Alexander, except he wasn’t hers anymore and he never would be again.
“Fine, but I need to shower.”
“You can shower at my place while I’m cooking. If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight right now, you’re crazy.”
She went inside and packed a small bag of things that she would need to shower at Cam's. When she emerged, he snaked his arm around her too small waist and led her down her deck to his Wrangler.
She stepped up into the Jeep and closed the door, admiring the view of the beach. It was her solace from the pain. It was exactly what she needed to get through this rough patch in her life. And maybe Cam was what she needed. Maybe she had been looking at things all wrong. Maybe all the troubles she had with Alexander were meant to lead her to Cam.
“Hey, Libby?” Cam said, pulling Olivia out of her thoughts as he drove away from the beach.
“Yes?” She glanced across the car at him, admiring his wayward sandy hair blowing in the wind.