Addicted to Love (Bayou Devils MC Book 2) Page 6

  Still giggling, we sit down and Ivy nudges Dottie as she passes the mashed potatoes to her. “I can’t believe you fall for that every time, Dot.”

  “Please, girl. I still have nightmares about the two of you in your teenage years,” she teases and Ivy rolls her eyes.

  “Oh, we weren’t that bad.”

  Dottie quirks an eyebrow and pins Ivy down with a stare. “My eardrums would suggest otherwise. Sometimes, I swear I can still hear you two screeching at each other.”

  “Oh, whatever,” Ivy grumbles before sticking her tongue out at Dottie as she scoops green beans onto her plate. I peek over at Dottie and hold back a giggle at the grin teasing her lips as she passes me the chicken. We’re quiet as we get our food and once all our plates are full, Dottie turns to Ivy and smiles.

  “So, you’re seeing someone?”

  “Um…” Ivy hums, trying to think of a lie but it’s already too late.

  “Who is he?”

  My phone buzzes and I sneak it out of my pocket while Dottie's gaze is locked on Ivy.

  Chance:

  What is it that’s holding you back?

  I look across the table where Ivy is pushing her food around on her plate and trying her best to dodge Dottie’s questions before blowing out a breath. There is no way in hell I’m ready to tell him about why I am the way I am. The truth is I barely know him, no matter how good it feels to talk to him and flirt with him.

  Me:

  Holding me back from what?

  “Good gracious, girl. Just tell me,” Dottie exclaims and Ivy sighs, peeking up from her plate. She knows her time has run out and she has no other option than to spill her guts.

  “Julian Henshaw.”

  Dottie is quiet for a moment then recognition dawns on her face and the sober look in her eyes spells out disaster for my sister. “I see. And how did you meet him?”

  “We met at a charity thing Mother dragged me to and then we kept running into each other.”

  Dottie’s face remains tight and Ivy sets her fork down, reaching across the table to lay her hand on Dottie’s.

  “I know what you're thinking, Auntie, and I thought the same when I first met him but he’s different. He’s not like Mother.”

  “I don’t like it,” Dottie says, pursing her lips and Ivy’s face falls. I know that this was Ivy’s biggest fear, but Dottie has every right to feel the way she does. She’s known our mother since she was a teenager and she watched her change because of her greed. My phone buzzes and I slip it out as Ivy pleads her case.

  Chance:

  Us.

  Me:

  There is no us. I just met you a week ago.

  I barely know you.

  “Please, Dottie. Just give him a chance and you’ll see he’s not like the rest of them. He’s kind and considerate and humble.”

  Dottie shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Ivy, but I don’t like this. You can’t trust those people. The money, it goes to their heads and corrupts them.”

  “Aren’t you the one that taught me not to judge anyone and now you’re casting judgment on a man you don’t even know,” Ivy fires back, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Look at how money changed your mother and look what her leaving did to your daddy. He lost his entire world to her need for wealth and then he lost his life. Look at what those little shits did to your sister. They’re all the same.”

  Our mother moved to New Orleans when she was ten years old and three years later, she met our father. The way Aunt Dottie tells it, it was love at first sight and they were inseparable. She said you’d never seen two people more perfect for each other than they were and they got married as soon as our mother turned eighteen. Things between them were good, great, for a long time and then they weren’t. I have no idea what changed and my mother refuses to talk about it at all but as far as Dottie is concerned, money was at the root of it all. I glance up just as a tear falls down Ivy’s face and I suck in a breath as my phone buzzes again. My heart aches but I’m thankful for the distraction as I pull up his text.

  Chance:

  Hence the date. Just give me a shot.

  I’m a nice guy.

  My first reaction is to immediately tell him no, but I can’t even make myself type the words. Blowing out a quiet breath, I stare down at the phone for a second before replying.

  Me:

  I’ll think about it.

  “I know you think he’s different but how long have you really known him?”

  “Four months,” Ivy mumbles.

  “Good heavens, girl. Anyone can lie for four damn months. You don’t know this man at all and you have no idea what his intentions are.”

  More tears stream down my sister’s face and my stomach knots, wishing I could make this easier but I know better than to cross Dottie, especially when she’s just trying to protect us. Plus, that little voice in my head agrees with her. Four months is no time at all and it would be so easy for Julian to trick her into moving in with him before she knows who he is. I’ve also never seen her happier but what do I know? My experience with relationships is minimal and even that’s pushing it.

  “I know him. He loves me, Dottie, and he treats me better than anyone else I’ve ever been with.”

  Dottie shakes her head. “Sweetie, it’s so easy to be the perfect man for four months when you’re not living with someone. You’ve never seen him angry or scared. You don’t know how he reacts when he’s stressed out. These are things you should know.”

  “We are living together,” Ivy declares and Dottie pulls her hand away, staring across the table at my baby sister in shock but I see the pain in her eyes, the worry she’ll lose someone else she loves.

  “You can’t… what are you thinking? I will not allow this to continue!”

  Ivy gasps and blinks at Dottie in shock. “You can’t stop me. I’m an adult and I can make my own choices.”

  “I do not accept this,” Dottie says, almost like she’s talking to herself and I can’t imagine how hard this is for her.

  Ivy stands up from the table and tosses her napkin down as she locks eyes with Dottie. Tears stream down her face and the pain in her eyes kills me. I hate seeing my baby sister like this. “I love you, Aunt Dottie, and I really hope you change your mind.”

  Without another word, she storms out of the house, slamming the door behind her and my eyes burn with unshed tears as I look over at Dottie. She meets my eyes and shakes her head.

  “Help her. Make her see. Those people will only hurt her.”

  A single tear slips down my cheek and Dottie stands without waiting for my reply. I watch her disappear down the hallway before standing and setting my napkin down on the table. Her bedroom door slams shut and I’m sure she’s crying but Dottie would never admit that to me. She doesn’t let anyone see her pain. My phone buzzes and I pull it out with a shaky breath as I turn away from the hallway.

  Chance:

  That’s all I’m asking.

  I scoff and slip the phone back in my pocket. No, that’s not what he’s asking at all. I can’t help but feel like he’s asking me to hand over my fragile heart and hope he doesn’t take a sledgehammer to it.

  Chapter Five

  Carly

  My mind is a mess today. Between Dottie and Ivy’s fight, Chance trying to get me to go out with him, and the date I’ve been avoiding all day, I’m about to fall apart. Blowing out a breath as I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and stare out at the road in front of me, I focus on the fight between Dottie and Ivy. It’s the most manageable problem of the three.

  Dottie has always been the one person in this world who is there for us no matter what and we’ve never argued with her—not seriously, anyway—so it feels weird to know Ivy and Dottie aren’t speaking. I hate the tension. I may not be the one fighting with Dottie, but I’m still stuck in the middle, trying to repair the rift in our family. It’s especially hard when I think they both have valid points. Dottie shouldn’t have reacted so strongly wit
hout at least meeting Julian first, but Ivy has to see where she’s coming from. Our mother’s greed and desire for status destroyed our father until he felt like he had nothing left anymore and Dottie lost her brother so suddenly. It’s hard to heal from that.

  With the bluetooth connected in my car, I dial Ivy’s number and wait for her to answer, as it seems to ring endlessly.

  “If you’re calling me about Dottie, you can hang up right now,” she snaps without so much as a hello and I smirk, shaking my head as I pull into the parking lot at my apartment complex.

  “I’m not.”

  “Liar,” she shoots back, her irritation dying down with each word.

  “Actually, I’m just calling to see how you are.”

  She sighs. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, now who’s the liar?” I ask, pulling into my designated spot and putting the car in park.

  “I don’t want to talk about Dottie,” she replies but her voice betrays her, telling me how badly she wants to vent about their argument last night. “It’s just… I didn’t expect her to be so hateful.”

  “Vi, she wasn’t being hateful. She’s just worried about you.”

  “I know what I’m doing, Carly. Julian isn’t like the rest of them,” she fires back and I nod despite the fact that I’m alone in my car.

  “And I believe you, but you have to take a minute to look at it from her perspective. Look at what Mother’s need for money did to Dad and look at what happened to me. She just wants to protect us.”

  “So, what? I’m just supposed to throw away this man I love and be miserable for the rest of my life for her?”

  I scoff, annoyed by her dramatics. “Of course not, Vi, but you could start by bringing him to Sunday dinner and letting Dottie get to know him a bit. She’ll see he really is different if you give her the chance.”

  “You really think she would give him a chance?”

  “I’ll talk to her, okay? Just bring Julian to dinner on Sunday and I’ll make sure Dottie keeps an open mind.”

  “You would do that for me?” she asks, her voice hopeful.

  “Vi, you’re my sister. I’d do anything for you. Just give her a chance, okay? She wants the best for you.”

  She’s quiet for a long moment and I wonder if she got cut off when she sighs. “I know. Thanks, Car. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “You know I’m always here if you want to talk. I love you.”

  “I know and I love you, too. I’ll see you on Sunday, okay?”

  I agree before hanging up, grabbing my things, and climbing out of the car. As I open the door to my apartment complex, I try to prep myself for my phone call to Dottie. She’s stubborn as hell and it will be like trying to push a rock up a hill to get her to agree to give Julian a chance but I’m hoping she’ll do it for Ivy. If he’s as great as Ivy says he is and she can just see them together and get to know him a little, I truly believe she’ll come around.

  Stepping off the elevator, I sigh, happy to be home and more than ready to relax for a bit. Once inside my apartment, I toss my bag on the counter and look down at my phone, still a little nervous to call Dottie. The last thing I want to do is argue with her, too. Instead, I sift through the mail in my hand and pause when I get to an envelope with my name handwritten on the front. There is no return address and I flip it over, looking for any clue before I rip it open. Inside is a card with a bouquet on the front and when I open it, something falls on to the counter. Glancing down, I freeze at the sight of the check laying on my granite countertop and my hand shakes as I pick it up, reading the name three times before the check falls out of my hand.

  No.

  He didn’t.

  Tears threaten to fall and my entire body trembles as I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to breathe, willing my mind to not go there. I’ve made it through most of this day without reliving the worst night of my life and I will not lose it now.

  Fuck Austin.

  Fuck him for what he did all those years ago and fuck him for thinking he can fix it by sending me a check for twenty thousand dollars.

  If I took it, I’d be no better than my mother.

  Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes again and close the card, ripping it in half without even a glance at the note inside. I don’t need to hear what he has to say and I’m sure as hell not going to assuage his guilt. I do the same to the check before dumping it all in the trash. Briefly, I consider setting it on fire but that gives it more power than I’m willing to part with. Going back to the island and sinking onto the stool, I take a couple of calming breaths before grabbing my phone to call Dottie. I scroll through my contacts but before I can find her name, the doorbell rings. I glance up and hop off the barstool as I set the phone on the counter, secretly relieved I have a little more time before I have to call her. I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t even stop to check the peephole before I pull the door open.

  “Chance,” I breathe out, my heart skipping a beat and butterflies flapping around in my belly before I remember I’m supposed to be avoiding him. I stand up a little straighter in an attempt to compose myself and grip the edge of the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Taking matters into my own hands,” he says, a smirk on his face.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He motions to the apartment behind me. “Why don’t you let me in and I’ll tell you?”

  “Or you could just tell me right here.”

  His smile grows and I lose the battle to keep my eyes on his face as they drop down the front of his body, appreciating the way his leather vest shows off his broad shoulders and strong arms. God, I’ve always had a weak spot for guys with great shoulders.

  “Come on, sweetheart. I drove all the way over here just to spend a little time with you, the least you could do is invite me inside.”

  I shake my head and he shrugs.

  “That’s fine. We can have our date like this with me in the hallway, but you’ll need to grab a wine glass,” he says, holding up a bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer I somehow missed.

  “And if I just close the door?”

  His smile never fades as he watches me, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his jaw like he’s deep in thought. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to sit out here and very loudly tell you my life story. Although, I’m not sure your neighbors would appreciate it.”

  Damn him for being right. Ms. Cheryl down the hall is nice enough but she would throw a fit if we interrupted her Monday night shows.

  “You’re trouble,” I say, rolling my eyes as I step back and hold the door open wider for him.

  “Who me?” he asks, glancing down at himself like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing and I resist the urge to roll my eyes again. He steps into my apartment and the entire mood shifts, my spacious living room suddenly feeling much too small. I close the door and move to step around him, but he moves into my path at the same time and we both stop, a breath away from each other as he swallows me up with his enchanting green eyes. My skin tingles and my heart races. The only sound in the entire apartment is our breaths meeting in the narrow space between us and no matter how much I tell myself to look away, I can’t force my gaze from his.

  “Where would I find those wine glasses?” he whispers and I continue staring at him for a moment with a blank look on my face as his words sink in. Blinking once, I look over his shoulder to the kitchen.

  “The cabinet to the right of the sink.” My voice sounds frail and I hate that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to me but it’s like he pulls me in and holds me hostage. A part of me is screaming to run away from this but the fire in his eyes is too beautiful, too intriguing to look away. Even with the certainty I’ll get burned.

  When he finally turns toward the kitchen to retrieve the glasses, I suck in a breath and press the back of my fingers to my cheek to cool down before walking over to the island and sinking onto the barstool. Turning back, he sets a wine glass on the counter and pours a g
enerous amount for me before popping the top off a beer.

  “Trying to get me drunk?” I ask, arching a brow and he grins.

  “It couldn’t hurt.”

  I snort out a laugh as he slides the glass over and I grab it, taking a sip.

  “Nice place,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting over to the living room before coming back to me and my lip curls in disgust as I glance over at my ostentatious living room.

  “I guess.”

  He scoffs and arches a brow. “What? Not good enough for you, Princess?”

  “Princess?” I spit back at him, standing from my barstool so I can throw his ass out of my house. He doesn’t know anything about me and I will not sit here and listen to him make fun of me for an apartment I don’t even like.

  His eyes widen and he holds his hands up. “Whoa. I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear.”

  The sincere look on his face convinces me and I sit back down, taking a long sip of my wine.

  “I’m sorry. The apartment is a touchy subject for me.”

  “And why’s that?”

  My mouth pops open and I almost tell him everything about my Mother and her… “habits” before I stop myself. This thing with him, whatever it is, has gotten out of control and I need to rein it back in. The problem is that throwing him out of my house and never seeing him again sounds just as unpleasant as trying to have an actual relationship with him. I take a sip of my wine, savoring the flavor before turning to him.

  “I have to say, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a wine guy.”

  “I don’t know much but my stepdad, Jerry, taught me a few things and I kind of wanted to impress this woman who seems intent on avoiding me.”

  My cheeks burn and I stare into my glass, my mind at war over everything he says.

  “Stepdad?” I ask, curious about who he is underneath all this cockiness and humor.