Page 73 of Stick Move

Once again, Allan speaks for her. “Because her mother and the sheik she’s been fucking all these years died in a plane crash and they left everything to Brighton.” He snorts out a pleased sound. “Mommy dearest must have had a conscience after all, but whatever, Brighton is back in black, and can buy you out.”

I stare at Brighton. “Is this true?”

“About my mom, yes. I found out last night,” she murmurs quietly, her face lacking any kind of color. “I had to go see my lawyer today.”

I cock my head, my heart pounding so hard, I’m sure my ribs are going to break. “And you told Allan and not me?”

“It’s not…no…it’s not like that.” She glances down, confused for a second, but confused about what? Hell if I know. What I do know is that I found a ring on my nightstand, she now has money in her pocket, her ex is inside my house, and how he got there without a key is anyone’s guess—or is it?—and people I’ve known forever are all telling me this was all a ploy. Fuck, I wasn’t going to believe any of that shit, until her ex—is he even her ex?—corroborated the story. Apparently, everyone but me knew about her ulterior motives.

“How could you do this to me…to Camryn?”

She stares at me for a second and takes a step back, like I physically hit her, which she knows I’d never do. But Allan is right there to catch her when she stumbles. “What about you, Noah? You…” she sniffs and glances around. “You bought all this.” She waves her hand toward the house, resort and ocean. “Just to get back at me.”

“You heard that from Julie and Gemma?” She nods. “And you believe it because they said it?”

“I…they said something about a French maid outfit and how you all concocted this scheme that day you saw me outside the realtor’s office. How would they know about the outfit?”

“The outfit that you bought.” I don’t even bother asking how Allan knew about it. She frowns and glances down again. “Seriously, Brighton. This is what you think I’m capable of?” is all I can manage to say as my heart grows cold, and I mentally erect walls around the chambers.

“I…I didn’t tell Allan about my mother,” she pushes out feebly, like her brain is rattled and she’s struggling to find her words, but it’s all a little too late.

“How did he know?”

“The family lawyers called me,” he says smugly, continually answering for her. “They couldn’t get hold of her, here at the resort, so they thought they’d try her boyfriend. I gave them her cell number.”

While I can’t wrap my brain around any of this, one thing I do know is she might not have had a relationship with her mother, and I might be as mad as hell at her, but there’s a part of me that hurts for the girl who was abandoned. And, let’s face it. I fucking love her. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

Brighton takes a step toward me. “Noah…”

Allan reaches for her. “Let him go, Brighton.”

“Noah.” She blinks at me, like she’s desperate to say more but I don’t give her the chance. I shake my head, angry that she could think I’m so cruel, and spit out, “We never knew each other at all, did we?”

Hurt fills her eyes and her shoulders sag as the fight drains out of her. “I’ll still be a part of Camryn’s life and her nanny until you can find her a new one. I’ll also get my things and move out as soon as I can.”

“You do that.” I’m about to walk away and stop. “Actually, Camryn and I are leaving.”

“Noah, don’t,” she pleads loudly, as she grabs my arm and I turn around. “I don’t want you moving Camryn. She needs the stability and she’s starting to make good friends at school, and she loves it here.”

Yeah, I loved it here too, but now…

Is this really going on? I didn’t believe it at first. How could I ever think the woman I loved was only going to marry me to get her resort back, and then to find out she believes I’m some kind of monster, who only ever wanted to exact revenge? Why would she ever believe that about me? There must be more going on here. Every instinct I possess tells me to whisk her away to where we can be alone and get behind matters, but if I am wrong, if it was never a ploy on her part, and I blatantly accused her of it, why would she ever speak to me?

Dude, she accused you of going to great lengths to get revenge.

But then here she is begging me not to move, for Camryn’s sake.

“Sunshine,” I begin, and Allan moves in beside her, sneering at me the way Brighton’s clique used to in high school.

He shakes his head, as if to say quit trying. “Once a loser, always a loser.”

Before I can help myself, I grab Allan’s shirt, pull my other arm back and swing with all the hate I have for this man—hate for hurting Brighton, hate for trespassing when she asked him to leave, hate that he’s here now getting in Brighton’s head. My fist connects with his jaw, hard enough to send him flying backward. He lands on the ground with an undignified thud.

“Jesus,” he mumbles as Brighton backs away from me, frightened by my violence. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

I turn my focus to a horrified Brighton, and I’m about to reach for her, until she drops to her knees beside Allan. With my heart lodged somewhere in my throat, I back up, and stumble, trying to find the path through the blur in my eyes. Before I can go get my daughter, I need to get my head screwed on right. I walk blindly until I find myself at the rooftop pool. Melanie takes one look at me as I plunk down on the stool.

She slides a stiff drink across the table and asks, “Want to talk?”

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