Page 47 of Best Laid Plans

"You want some fire and ice, baby?" Trevor wiggled his eyebrows. "We have ice at home, and I'm sure I can find something that's like a flogger."

Katya cocked an eyebrow and made a face. "You use a flogger on me, buddy, that's the last time you'll use your hands. But if you want to use your hands…now…."

Trevor kissed her lightly on her lips. "You're nuts, baby, but you're all mine."

"Argh, stop it," Mike protested. "I'm just about ready to throw up due to all this excessive PDA."

"That's ‘cause you like your sex transactional in a club," I teased.

It was a lovely evening with friends and a potential date. This was my life now. The poor and orphaned Nova King was sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Savannah, drinking a craft cocktail in the company of fine people. I had come a long way from Sentinel. And yet, when Anson was around, I felt like I was back again in my gray diner uniform, desperately wanting to be seen.

Just as I was finally being seen by those in my life, Anson walked in and painted me as a poor, desperate, conniving woman, everything I worked so hard to prove I wasn't.

The universe was cruel to allow Sentinel Heights to land at my feet.

Since Anson and I kissed, I'd been debating if I should ask Nina to replace me with someone else. I'd hand it over now in the early stages so I wouldn't have to see Anson and that leech he called fiancée. And by the time the project was done, Bailey would probably be Anson's wife. I didn't know if my heart could handle that.

Regardless of the impending hurt, I knew I would stay on the project, even though I told him I'd wouldn't.

I could lie to my friends and to Anson, but to myself, I had to tell the truth.

I wanted to be in his presence.

The universe had given me time with him, and....

When did you become this pathetic love-sick fool, Nova? And what the hell are you expecting?

I was expecting a fairytale.

But this was real life and not a fantasy. Anson would never love me the way I wanted and deserved. And when it came to him, my first and only love, I was and would always be a pathetic love-sick fool. I'd just have to shore up my defenses so he never found out, because he'd take advantage of that and destroy me more than he already had.

Chapter 19

Anson

We had a full house for dinner the Saturday after I got back from Savannah. Apparently, Alma and Tyler were still together, though it was obvious to anyone who saw them that Tyler would rather be anywhere other than with my sister. I couldn't understand either of them. Tyler should grow a pair and marry the girl he loved, and Alma should respect herself enough not to be with a man who only paid attention to her because his daddy forced him to.

I had talked to Conner Henderson, Tyler's father, who was adamant that he'd disinherit his son if he didn't marry Alma. My sister would make a terrific society wife—she'd wear that mask to perfection, and since I knew Conner was planning on running for governor, he wanted the Larue name behind him.

In Georgia, our family name carried weight. We'd been in the state for generations, and even though some of our histories were sordid—such as a governor who was vocally pro-lynching, a judge who was pro-segregation, and a senator who had fought against every equal rights bill that ever came across his desk—we were still powerful.

My uncles and cousins who were part of the Larue family tree were established businessmen, lawyers, state senators, and mayors…and we even had an NFL pro. Generations of playing in the upper echelon of Georgia society made Alma Larue an attractive candidate for a daughter-in-law for a man with political ambitions.

Also at dinner were Pete and his wife. I'd asked Mama to invite them.

I intended to find time with him after dinner to talk about what Nova had revealed. I didn't believe her. I couldn't. I knew Pete. But I had to hear his side of the story, and give him the opportunity to defend himself.

The voice inside my head, the one I presumed to be my conscience, reminded me that I never heard her side that night, seven years ago, and never gave her a chance to speak for herself. I shook the guilt away.

Bailey was being extra affectionate because I'd spent the previous night alone. She'd wanted me to come to her place or let her come over and stay at mine, but I'd declined both possibilities. She took it as what it was, me wanting distance from her.

"Darlin', you want me to freshen your drink?" She rubbed my arm.

I smiled and nodded. It wasn't Bailey's fault that I'd agreed to get engaged to her. She'd always had a thing for me—ever since forever, and she'd pursued me relentlessly. I'd finally given in. It had made me feel good to have a woman as beautiful as Bailey chase me down. Then it had given me a shit ton of pause that beneath the beauty, there didn't seem to be a whole lot of…anything.

Most of the women I'd dated were as tedious as her, but they were transient. A few months of fucking, and we'd move on. But I was supposed to marry Bailey. I'd have to spend my days and nights with her for endless years.

It was becoming more and more apparent to me that I'd be breaking off my engagement to her. I'd hurt her, my sister, and my mother. I'd hurt Bailey's mother and sisters. I'd give the gossipmongers a whole hell of a lot of fodder.

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