Page 19 of Van Cort
I lean over, pick up my phone and read the last few messages from April that I didn’t read last night.
“Ughhh.” I drop my head back to the pillow and contemplate the day.
Run. Reset. I’ll forego any more wine.
Crawling out of bed and going for a run seems like a step too far, so I detour and shower first. And thank God, I feel more alive after being pelted with hot water.
My hair is damp from the steam, so I plait it to keep it from flying everywhere on the run. Next is the sports bra and leggings before heading out.
And as I open the door, I nearly run into Everett.
“Oh, hi.” My throat constricts in shock.
He looks deep in thought, like I’ve caught him off-guard. It’s an odd look on him. But then, seeing him in an open-collared shirt and chinos isn’t what I’d imagine Everett to ever dress in either.
I blink a few times.
“These are for you.” He presents a bouquet of lilacs and cream roses, all long stems and tied with silk ribbon. They are exquisite and spear right to my heart. As I take them from him, I feel the anger and irritation drain away.
And then I remember that he snuck out on me and hasn’t made any attempt to contact me for days.
I stare at him, waiting for more than those four words.
The heat in his eyes is there again, but I don’t fold. He’s in the wrong. He knows it, or he wouldn’t be here with flowers as an apology.
“You’re angry,” he offers. Yes, but it doesn’t stop the corner of his mouth from tipping up. “You must have missed me for that.”
“Your arrogance isn’t helping your cause, Everett.”
“Not even a little? I like this look on you.”
“Thank you for the flowers, but I’m heading out.”
He stares, spending far too much time on my legs and ass. “Running, I assume. Could you make time for a coffee first? It’s a beautiful day.” Screw the beautiful weather.
“You think that showing up here with flowers as an apology will make up for ghosting me for days? Tell me, was your plan just to get me to sleep with you from the start, and when I turned you down, it was just a challenge?”
“Perhaps.” I cross my arms. I knew it. “Listen, if you take the flowers inside and put them in water, we can talk over a coffee. If you’re not satisfied with the end result, I’ll leave you in peace to get hot and sweaty on your own. If you’d prefer that.”
God, he needs to stop speaking because everything out of his mouth sounds far too good. I was meant to be forgetting all about Mr Van Cort, not struggling and facing a total abandonment of my willpower.
“Wait here,” I snap.
I go back inside and take a deep breath, holding it for three seconds before exhaling. Why am I even thinking of saying yes? It’s his voice. Or his way with it. It could have something to do with the way his hands felt on my body, too.
I place the flowers in the sink with some water and go back out to face him. “This better be good, Everett.”
He crooks his arm like he did on our date, although I don’t feel sorry for the suit this time, because instead, I get to admire his forearm.
“Come on. I know a place.”
“There are plenty of places around Green Lake.”
“It won’t be far.” He leads me to his car and opens my door, and then his, and gets in behind the wheel. I look over the plush interior of the black Range Rover, unsure if this is what I thought he’d drive. Seems too big and brash for his style, despite his wealth.
“No Andre, today?”
“It’s Saturday. I’m not a complete megalomaniac.”
