Just One Night Page 2

  I rub at the sudden ache in my neck while begging my mind to forget, to stop feeling something every time I see him. Hell, every time I think about him. It’s always hate laced with desire.

  We were two lonely and heartbroken souls who connected over a night of drinking our pains away. When the alcohol proved not to be potent enough to heal, we tried to fuck it away.

  Fucking and feelings do not go together like macaroni and cheese.

  I used him. He used me. I thought I was okay with that until reality smacked me in the face when he kissed me for the first time. That was the moment I turned greedy and wanted more than just a quick fuck. The problem is, he didn’t.

  As if he senses me watching him, his deep-set charcoal eyes move in my direction, and my back stiffens. I hold in a breath when he scoots out his chair, gives Maven a quick peck on the top of her head, and walks toward me.

  Oh, shit.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  The first few buttons are undone on his chambray shirt, exposing the top of his broad chest, and the sleeves are tight around his muscular arms. He’s not fit from spending seven days a week at the gym. No, he’s naturally buff, and the manual labor he does now only amplifies it.

  Was driving me crazy his goal tonight? No doubt Hudson told him I’d be here.

  I move my gaze from one side of the room to the other, desperately searching for the nearest exit, as he gets closer. I’m his chosen target. I bite my lip at the realization that I’ll have to walk past him to leave. The determination on his face assures me that I’m not going anywhere until he gets what he wants.

  I shove the remainder of the cupcake in my mouth and silently give myself a pep talk to make it through this conversation without plowing my heel into his balls. I stupidly run my hands over my dress after swallowing down the last bite and then cringe at the pink frosting smear.

  Real smooth.

  So much for appearing cool and collected.

  This hot-mess look won’t make him regret kicking you out of his bed.

  I tense when he reaches me, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, staring at me with affliction. The thread around his shirt buttons stretches when he leans back on his heels and waits for my response.

  “Willow.” He releases my name like an announcement, and the familiar scent of him drifts up my nostrils, a mix of regret and whiskey with small notes of cedar.

  It’s comforting at first since I’ve always felt a sense of security when he is around, but then I remember what he did.

  I settle my hand against the wall to keep me from falling on my ass. “Dallas,” I reply with a sneer. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “It’s my brother’s engagement.”

  My mouth slams shut, and my gaze drops to the floor at my stupidity. “Oh, yeah … right.”

  Silence passes.

  I don’t look at him when I lift my head back up. Instead, I avert my attention to the people dancing, laughing, and having a good time in the room, wishing it were me.

  Hell, three months ago, that would’ve been me. I cast a glance to his mom and dad. Do they know what we did? That he screwed my brains out one night?

  He clears his throat to gain my attention again. I give in and focus on his broad-jawed face. He’s staring at me in gentleness, almost pity, which surprises me.

  “How long are you in town for?” he asks.

  “Two days.” My initial plan was to fly in and out within the same day, but Hudson begged me to stay longer for Stella.

  “Get breakfast with me in the morning.”

  His question startles me. The breakfast offer is a little too late. That should’ve happened on our morning after.

  “I’m not much of a breakfast person.”

  He scratches his cheek. “Grab coffee?”

  “I don’t drink coffee.” This is the truth. Never been a coffee fan. Never will be.

  “What the hell do you do in the morning then?”

  “Sleep.” Get sick. Roll around in my sheets, wishing I could turn back time.

  He pulls his free hand from his pocket and slides closer into my space.

  Way too close.

  His steadfast eyes meet mine. “Please. I want to make shit right. My brother is marrying your best friend. I’m the best man. You’ll no doubt be the maid of honor. We need to be civil and stop dancing around each other if we don’t want everyone to know something happened between us.”

  There’s the answer I was looking for. I wince, unsure if he’s more worried about our tension ruining the wedding or that people will find out about our one-night stand.

  I wave my hand through the air, careful not to hit him in the face. “Consider that night forgotten. I already have.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. We’ve known each other long enough for you to be honest with me.”

  I hold up my hand in anger, the need to spew out something terrible snapping at me. I want to strike him with pain that consumes him like he did me. “In case you’ve forgotten, you kicked me out of your bed. What do you want from me? A friendly hug? A casual conversation with fake smiles? Not going to happen, so quit wasting both of our time. You stay out of my way. I’ll stay out of yours. Agreed?”

  “I didn’t kick you out of my bed,” he hisses. “You ran out my front door faster than a speeding bullet.”

  I forget we’re not alone and edge closer until my chest hits his. “You jumped out of bed like you were dodging a speeding bullet.” I grit my teeth to gain control of myself. “That was before you said that what we did was a mistake, over and over again, like your lips were a broken record.”

  His face burns like I didn’t just hit him with the verbal truth, but also a physical one. He lets out a hard sigh, giving me a small sampling of the whiskey and frosting lingering on his lips. Tightness forms in my throat, and I clutch at my stomach. Just like his cologne preference, I’m sure the taste of him hasn’t changed.

  “I’m sorry. I overreacted,” he replies. “I tried calling to apologize, but you wouldn’t take my calls.”

  “Nor will I ever.”

  “Fuck, Willow, how many times do I have to say this until you forgive me? I was in a dark place and was out of line.” His voice lowers even more, and I barely make out his next words. “I didn’t regret that it was you in my bed. I was pissed at myself for even letting it happen, for putting you in that situation.”

  His answer doesn’t make me feel any better.

  I slide against the wall to move away from him. “It’s done. I’m over it.”

  “Twenty minutes and a pastry,” he pleads. “Give me that, and I promise I’ll never bring it up again.”

  I take a deep breath. This is Dallas Barnes. A man I worked alongside for five years. A man whose job was to protect Stella and me. Tragedy changes a man. Loss changes a man. This isn’t the Dallas I knew. This is a new man, a man who lost himself when he lost his wife.

  I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’ll be civil for Stella’s sake, but I won’t spend a minute longer with you than I have to.” This is for the best. I want him to hate me. I want him to want nothing to do with me in case he ever finds out what I’m keeping from him.

  The anger in my words shocks him, and he runs his hand over his face.

  “Daddy!”

  He stumbles back at the sound of his daughter’s voice. She’s barreling our way, and her brown pigtails soar through the air. She runs right into his leg with a humph and giggles when he catches her.

  “Come dance with me!”

  Affection fills his face when he peeks down at her with a smile and twirls a pigtail around his finger. “Give me a second, sweetie. I’m talking with Willow, and then I’m all yours.”

  “But this is my favorite song ever.” She pouts.

  I force a laugh, seeing my perfect escape plan. Dancing seems to be my savior tonight. “You can’t deny a dance with a girl that adorable,” I say, shooing them away. “Go. I need to make a call
anyway.”

  Maven jumps up and down, clapping her hands in excitement, and Dallas stares at me with concern before leaning forward.

  “I never had any intention to hurt you,” he whispers.

  But you did, I mouth back.

  Damn, did he.

  “Daddy!” Maven whines. “The song is going to be over!”

  He gives me a nod before walking away.

  I don’t let the tears fall until I see his back.

  The fuck?

  I’m not this overly sensitive chick.

  These hormones are messing with my hard-ass persona.

  I brush them away, sniffling, and dash toward the exit. I need to get out of here and away from these people. I need silence, a moment to sulk about how I made a stupid decision for the millionth time.

  I’m almost out the door when I nearly trip on my feet. My arm is grabbed, and I’m pulled down a dimly lit hallway. I attempt to swat the connection away, but it doesn’t work, and I’m not released until we land in a small utility room.

  “What in the flying fuck is going on with you?” Stella demands, crossing her arms. “And don’t you dare try to feed me some new diet bullshit. Diets don’t make you cry.”

  “Nothing,” I stutter out, wiping my warm cheeks in an attempt to rid myself of the evidence.

  “Bullshit.” She pauses, waiting for me to let out my secret, but I stand my ground. “I’ll keep us in here all night.” She narrows her smoky eyes my way. “Do you want to be blamed for keeping a girl away from her engagement party?”

  Guilt trips. Stella excels at giving them.

  “I’ll tell you later. I promise.”

  She shrugs, pops a squat on the carpeted floor, and stretches out her legs.

  I let out a dramatic breath. “Fine. But you have to promise, it won’t leave this room.”

  “All of your secrets are safe with me. Always have been.”

  “This is bigger than hacking into Brett’s phone or when I pissed myself after we drank too many Skinnygirl margaritas.”

  “You could’ve killed Brett, and I wouldn’t blab.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Jesus, Willow, did you kill the bastard?”

  My heart thunders in my chest. I’m on the verge of passing out, so I sit down across from her. I can’t take these words back. The secret won’t be mine any longer, and she’ll be thrown into a difficult position.

  “Someone you care about will get hurt if I tell you.”

  Her voice fills with worry as she hunches forward. “Is it about Hudson?” She relaxes when I shake my head. “Then, what is it?”

  “I’m pregnant.” The words feel heavy when they fall from my lips for the first time.

  She silently stares at me, stunned at my response, and then her face brightens with fake excitement. “That’s great! Congratulations.” She’s won an Emmy, but even she can’t fake enthusiasm about this. “I didn’t know you were back with Brett.”

  Brett. My asshole of an ex who’s out on bail and awaiting trial after driving drunk and hitting a family of four.

  “We’re not. I haven’t seen him since we broke up.”

  “Then, who’s the father?”

  I wait for her to come up with the answer, so I don’t have to give it to her.

  Her mouth drops open, a gasp escaping her. “Holy shit. Dallas is the father?”

  “Yep, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “I take it, you haven’t shared the news with him?”

  “Nope.”

  Her gaze lands on me in expectation. “But you’re going to before you leave, right?”

  “Not exactly. I was, uh … thinking about, say, never?”

  “What?” she screeches. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “You can’t do that.” She leans forward to take my hand in hers. “Don’t see this as me being unsupportive, but that’s fucked up. And that’s coming from a girl who faked a relationship with a douche bag for months.”

  “It’s for the best. I’m going to raise this baby on my own.”

  “Why?” She shakes her head, rolls her eyes, and sighs at the same time. “And I suppose you want me to keep quiet?”

  My voice cracks. “Yes. Please.”

  “If I do what you’re asking, I’ll be hurting Dallas. I’ll be hurting the man I love. It’ll ruin my relationship with everyone in their family if they ever find out.” Her eyes start to water.

  This is the first time I’ve ever doubted my trust in her.

  “What they don’t know won’t hurt them. If the truth does come out, I’ll tell them you had no idea.”

  Stella turns around at the same time my attention goes to the door when it opens. Hudson is staring at us with a bloodthirsty expression on his face.

  “Excuse me for interrupting,” he huffs out. “I was searching for my bride-to-be.”

  Did he hear our conversation? The look on his face confirms he heard something, but how much?

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping … at least, not at first,” he goes on. “Some words of advice: when you have a conversation about fucking someone’s life up, you might want to lower your voices.”

  My heart thuds in my chest. “Hudson, please,” I beg. “Please don’t tell him.”

  He moves into the room, closing the door behind himself, and thrusts his finger my way. “Don’t you fucking dare ask me to keep this from my brother.” His piercing stare goes to Stella. “And please tell me you weren’t going to agree to it.”

  Stella’s eyes swell as she throws her arms out toward me. “She’s my best friend!”

  “And he’s your soon-to-be brother-in-law who deserves to know!” he yells. “That’ll be my niece or nephew. Did you even wonder how keeping this to yourself would hurt me and my family?”

  Talk about a fucking loud mouth.

  “Keep your voice down,” I hiss in warning.

  His face hardens, almost appearing sinister, and sweat builds along his forehead. “I swear on everything that I will hate you if you do this. You don’t pull shit like this on a man, especially one who is as good of a father as Dallas. He’s not some piece-of-shit, deadbeat dad.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to not only stop the tears, but to also block out the view of Hudson’s disgust. “It has nothing to do with him. It’s what’s best for me.”

  “Bullshit. It’s you being selfish.”

  “Hudson,” Stella snaps. “Enough!” She pulls herself up from the floor and helps me to my feet. She doesn’t release my hand until I’m stable. “What are you so afraid of, Willow? What’s the worst that could happen?”

  Fear does the Macarena in my stomach. I can’t tell them the truth. “Everything,” I release. “He’s a grieving widower who regrets touching me.”

  Stella’s face softens. “This secret will add to his hurt when he finds out later.”

  “That’s if he finds out.” I peek over at Hudson, the anger still manifested everywhere on his body.

  He locks eyes with me and shakes his head. “Un-fucking-believable. You fucking do this to him, Willow, and I will never speak to you again.” His glare goes to Stella. “Good memories of our engagement night, huh?” He turns his back on us and slams his hand against the wall before opening the door and storming out.

  “He’s going to tell him, isn’t he?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry,” Stella replies. “I shouldn’t have pushed you, but you have to tell Dallas before Hudson does. Maybe this baby will bring some joy into his darkness.”

  “I’ll tell him. Just give me a few days, okay?”

  She nods. “As much time as you need. I can’t say the same for Hudson though. You know how close they are.”

  “Fuck!” I scream, grabbing the ends of my hair and pulling it.

  “That’s what put you in this situation.” She smiles when I flip her off.

  “I need another fucking cupcake.”

  Chapter Two

 
Dallas

  I open the fridge with more force than necessary and snag a beer. My brain pounds when I pop the cap off, take a long yet unsatisfying drink, and set it aside for something stronger.

  Nothing will be potent enough for me tonight.

  But that won’t stop me from trying.

  Maven is at my parents’, so I have no responsibilities tonight.

  To say surviving the party was a challenge is an understatement. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it through and good thing I didn’t have to do it sober. I should be glad my brother found happiness, but I’m an asshole living in a dark hole, avoiding the sunlight. I’m only happy I managed not to stand up and object to him asking Stella to marry him.

  Marriage isn’t the answer, I wanted to scream out. Don’t let yourself get wrapped up in someone so much, you don’t know who you are when they’re gone.

  I pat myself on the back for keeping my mouth shut. The glass bottle feels chilly when it grazes the bare skin of my neck.

  Then, I saw Willow. Hudson gave me a heads-up that she was coming, and even if I had tried to argue about it, nothing would’ve changed. She’s Stella’s best friend … and the only other woman I’ve slept with since Lucy died. Hell, the only woman I’ve slept with other than Lucy.

  I decided I was going to talk to Willow and make things right between us. The problem was, I wasn’t expecting my chest to ache at the sight of her walking in … or my hands to grow sweaty as I wondered how her skin felt underneath that black dress.

  Is it still as soft as it was that night?

  Does she still smell like strawberries?

  Taste as sweet?

  My plan to make shit right went out the window. All I thought about was asking her to come home with me and let me make up for my asshole behavior. I haven’t touched anyone in months, haven’t had the desire to, but seeing Willow made my heart race and my dick stir. Hell, it was a full-time job stopping myself from staring at her every three seconds.