Page 21 of Ripple Effect
As for a beginning, it was perfect—the dying heat of the day drying my tears at my front as Calhoun Sullivan supported my back. I could feel his smile against my hair when I told him something amusing. But the best was when I made him laugh. His whole body would shake along the back of mine as he held me cradled against his chest.
I don’t remember how long we sat there talking. But by the time the stars lit the path back to the house, Cal was holding my hand and my heart was beating a little stronger in my chest.
13
Calhoun
Twelve Years Ago from Present Day
Knowing I’m going to be working stateside for at least another six months is suddenly exhilarating. I stare at myself in the mirror as I slip the belt through the loops of the dark-wash jeans I paired with a black shirt to wear on my first official date with Libby. I’m meeting her at Deja Vu in a half an hour before we go out to dinner.
My phone pings with a text. Pulling it out of my pocket, I grin when I see it’s from Libby. Then I frown when I read,How close are you?
I quickly type back,My apartment is maybe a ten minute drive from the store why?
Anytime you want to come get me would be great.
I quickly grab my wallet, shoving it into my pocket. Keeping my phone out, I race out of my apartment.I’m on my way.
See you soon.
This could just be that she’s anticipating our date as much as I am, but every instinct is screaming at me to get to her.
It’s been three weeks since her nonna’s been laid to rest. I’ve spoken with or seen Libby every day. Whether that’s because we’ve talked after she was finished with work—even though I’ve still been at the office—or we managed to meet up for a quick lunch, the pull between us that I acknowledged all those years ago is still there. It’s just been dormant while I was a complete dumbass.
Sam and Iris have both cautioned me about being with Libby. “Don’t start something with her unless you’re going in for the long haul.” Sam’s still pissed at me for unintentionally hurting his precious cousin to begin with.
Iris, the damn pit bull, had her say in multiple languages. “Vas tu fouture!” she screamed.
“Calling your boss a fuck isn’t the way to earn a good performance bonus,” I replied calmly.
“I don’t give a shit, Cal. She’s my best friend, and you’re part of reason she went from being…Libby to miserable. If I’d have known that, I’d…”
“What?” I demanded. “Shot me?”
“I’d have considered it,” Iris retorted before slamming out of my office.
Slowly and way too cautiously, the light that shone from Libby before was emerging again. “I just hope she’s all right,” I mutter as I swing into my truck.
Backing out of my space, I manage to shave a few minutes off the time and swing into the reserved parking lot for Deja Vu in about eight minutes. Quickly, I make my way around to the front of the store. Entering, I hear Libby’s voice say, “I don’t give a shit, Kyle. And what the hell do you think your wife would say if I called her to tell her you’re here?”
“Krysta isn’t you, Elizabeth.”
Libby’s laughter is filled with bitterness. “That’s not what you said when you decided to cheat on me with her. Now, get out of my store. And let me tell you, if you ever call my assistant and make an appointment under an alias again, I’ll call the cops. As it is, you’ve got one minute before I call my family.”
I’m going to kill him. The thought settles into my mind with such a comfortable ease. As I turn the corner, I prepare for anything. What I don’t expect is to find Libby standing with her arms folded over her chest in a sexy as fuck black dress that hugs every curve and a pair of black high-heeled boots.
The man in question is practically on his knees when he pleads, “No, Elizabeth. Please don’t call your family.”
Libby snorts. “Like that’s not happening.” She uncrosses her arms and begins to dial.
Suddenly, Kyle whatever-his-name-is surges to his feet and grabs her wrist. “Elizabeth. Drop the phone. Let’s talk this out.”
Not. Happening. “Let her go,” I growl, my hands fisting and unclenching at my side. Kyle immediately drops her wrist and steps back.
A flicker of relief crosses Libby’s face. “Cal, I seem to have a bit of a situation.”
“Want me to handle it for you?” I lean up against the jamb and cross one ankle over the other.
