Tease (Cloverleigh Farms #8)(81)

Had my performance been perfect? No. I sweated profusely for five straight hours, struggled to breathe normally, and battled the urge to bolt for the exit sign when it was my turn to be questioned.

But I’d gotten through it. I’d faced the lions and won, or at least hadn’t let them win.

It was enough. And it was her victory too—why wasn’t she here with me to celebrate it?

“Dude, come on. Let’s go get drunk.” Wade came up behind me in the hallway and shouldered me forward. “This smokin’ hot intern told me where she and her friends hang out after work. She said they’ll be there by five-thirty.”

“I’m not interested.”

Wade groaned. “You’re never interested. But you killed it in there, don’t you want to celebrate? One drink. Come on.”

A drink did sound good. My nerves were totally shot. “Fine, one drink. But I’m not going to some bar crowded with interns. Let’s just grab a drink somewhere close, then I’ll go back to the hotel.”

“You’re such a fucking old lady. But fine.” He slung an arm around my neck. “Let’s go.”





“So what’s the deal with this engagement?” Wade asked after we’d rehashed the hearing. “You really gonna marry this chick?”

I took a swallow of whiskey. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

He laughed. “Trouble in paradise already?”

I remained silent. Took another sip.

“Listen, I get it. Women are a fucking pain in the ass. They’re never satisfied. You give them one thing, and then they want more. They say they don’t want you to change, but they do. They claim they’re happy if you’re happy, but that’s the biggest fucking lie of all.” Wade finished off his drink and put his hand up to order another. “They don’t want you to be happy. They want you to be miserable, and they go at it like it’s their job.”

“Felicity isn’t like that.”

“Well, she’s not like that now. But it changes once that ring is on your finger. Mark my words.”

“I’ve known her for fifteen years. She’d never want anyone to be miserable, least of all me.”

Wade shrugged. “If you say so. But think about it—marriage is fucking permanent. You can’t just get out of it. One woman until the end. One body. One piece of ass for the rest of your life.”

I frowned at him. “You’re a dick.”

He laughed and picked up his second drink. “I’m just trying to be a good friend, dude. Warn you about what’s ahead—but if you like eating the same meal every night until the end of time, be my guest and get married. Because that’s what it’s like. Even if the steak is good, you get bored. And I can’t help it if I sometimes want to taste something else.”

“If you don’t stop talking, I might actually punch you in the face.”

Wade looked at me in surprise. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that I love this woman you’re talking about like she’s a fucking piece of meat. And I can’t think of anything better than having her to myself for the rest of my life. The thought of being with someone else is absurd. The thought of her being with someone else makes me want to put my fist through the wall. The thought of losing her because I’m a fucking idiot is unacceptable.”

Wade shrugged. “Okay. Then get married. But don’t blame me when it all goes to hell and you wish you were banging hot interns instead of getting your ass chewed out.”

“I have to go.” I pulled out my wallet and threw some cash on the bar.

“When are you back in the office?”

“I don’t know.” I stood up, stood taller. “Maybe never.”

“Huh? What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means I did what I came here to do, but it doesn’t matter as much as I thought it would—or rather, the reason it matters has nothing to do with HFX, and everything to do with me realizing I might fail but taking the risk anyway, because not taking it would have been the greater failure.”

“Dude. You lost me.”

“Never mind.” I was already heading for the door.

Losing Wade, I could handle.

Losing Felicity, no fucking way.





In the car on the way back to the hotel, I changed my flight so I could get out of D.C. tonight. Then I packed in a hurry and raced to the airport.

It was late when I got home, after midnight, so I wasn’t surprised that all the lights were off. I let myself in, dumped my bags at the door, and rushed into the dark, silent bedroom.

“Hey.” I sat down on her side of the bed and put a hand out. “I’m home.”

But she wasn’t there. I felt around for a few seconds, then panicked and switched on the lamp. The bed was empty.

I jumped to my feet. “Felicity?”

No answer.

Frantic, I checked the bathroom and noticed all her things were gone. I looked in the guest bedroom across the hall, even out on the deck. I went downstairs and looked in every room. I went into the garage—her car was gone.

“Fuck!” I pulled the door shut and went into the kitchen, my heart racing.

That’s when I saw the envelope on the island. It was white, and my name was written on it in her loopy, girlish handwriting.