The One You Can't Forget by Roni Loren
Now she was here, looking at him like she wanted to turn tail and run. Great. Now awkward would escalate to full-out uncomfortable. “Sorry, I thought you were closed.”
“Sorry, ladies. My younger brother apologizes for his language.” Marco sent him a look.
“Your brother?” the blond woman said. She turned a beaming smile on Wes. “The one who helped Bec out the other night?”
“That’d be me,” Wes said flatly.
“Well, hi there.” The woman gave him an evaluating look. “And don’t worry about us. We’re not that easily scandalized.”
Rebecca gave him a grim smile.
“Rebecca wanted to stop in and check on our patient,” Marco added.
“Hi again,” Wes said, hoping he sounded casual. “Marco, I need your key so I can put some of this stuff in the fridge.”
Marco jabbed a finger at a table that had handouts about pet care on it. “Just set them there for now. I’m heading up right after I finish this. Rebecca’s going to foster our canine rescuer once he’s healed up enough. Isn’t that great?”
“Fan-frigging-tastic,” Wes muttered as he set the bags down.
Marco frowned his way, letting him know that his mutter wasn’t so quiet. “Why don’t you take her back to visit him while I process this paperwork?”
Wes straightened. “What?”
Marco cocked his head. “He’s in the big kennel on the far end. Walk her back.”
“Oh, he doesn’t have to—” Rebecca started.
But her friend cut her off. “Oh, you should go, Bec. This is bonding time…with Bartholomew.”
Rebecca closed her eyes as if she was counting to three to keep her cool. “That’s not his name, Kincaid.”
Her friend smiled and shooed her. “Go on. Go visit. I’ll keep the good doctor company.”
Marco glanced up at the woman, Kincaid, and smiled this goofy-ass smile. Wes had to swallow back a snort. Was his big brother blushing? God help him. That chick talked like she was made of honey and sweet Southern sunshine, but those were the type who could take you down before you knew what had hit you.
Rebecca, on the other hand, sent Wes an apologetic look as she walked over.
Great. Pity. How fun.
He tried not to notice how good Rebecca looked in her fitted white pants and pale-blue sleeveless top. She still had a few Band-Aids covering some of the damage from the other night, but he hadn’t seen this polished version of her yet. Makeup subtle but covering her freckles, long auburn hair twisted into some kind of knot. All class and sophistication.
No wonder he wasn’t her type. She looked like a woman who threw garden parties in the Austin hills and hired men like him to cater them and bring her wine.
And blue. Of course she was wearing blue.
She didn’t speak until she was close enough for only him to hear her. “So we meet again.”
“Fate has a sense of humor.”
She glanced back at her friend. “So it seems.”
“Come on. Your doggy friend awaits.” He motioned for her to come with him and walked quickly down the hallway, ready to get this over with, but he had to pause at the door to the kennels when he realized she hadn’t kept up with him. He turned to see what the deal was, but he didn’t have to ask. There was a hitch in Rebecca’s gait. She gave him a tight smile. “I’ll catch up. Just lead the way.”
But he didn’t move. “Did you hurt your leg in the attack?”
Her gaze flicked away. “No.”
“But…”
“Not this attack. An old injury got aggravated.”
“Not this att—”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. Where’s the dog?”
Her tone snapped him back to reality. “Right. This way.”
The cacophony of dog noises increased as they stepped into the kennel area and the residents discovered there were people present. Most of the animals in the front part were pets staying while their owners were out of town. So they were all eager to get out and play or go home. But as Wes led Rebecca to the other side, the noises became quieter, more whimpers than barks. The infirmary area.
Rebecca glanced around, frowning.
The big, black dog that had saved her was in one of the larger kennels in the corner. Wes walked over there and squatted down. “Hey there, big guy.”
Sad eyes looked up at Wes, and the dog let out a little whine. The pup’s leg was bandaged, and he had one of those cones on his head to keep him from aggravating his injury.
Rebecca stepped up behind Wes, her breath whooshing out of her and tickling the back of his arm. “Oh God, he looks so pitiful.”
She crouched down next to him, and the vanilla scent of her shampoo or perfume cut through the dog smells for a moment, making Wes want to lean closer and inhale. He gritted his teeth, mentally berating his body’s natural reaction to this woman.
She reached into the cage and brushed her fingers over the dog’s muzzle. “How you doing, sweetheart?”
The dog’s tail thumped hard against the floor as he wagged it, and he whined.
“I know, baby. Shots in the leg are a bitch. Are they treating you well in here?” she asked. The dog licked her fingers.
“Of course they are,” Wes said. “He’s got the best doctor.” He reached out to scratch behind the pup’s ear. “But don’t tell him I said that, big guy, or I won’t sneak you treats.”
Rebecca sent Wes a half smile. “You have any pets?”
He sat back on his heels. “Nah. I can’t even remember to do laundry. I definitely can’t be trusted with living things.”
“I hear you. You know what I did to the basil.”
Wes chuckled and put his hand over his heart. “May it rest in peace.”
Rebecca continued to pet the dog but glanced over at Wes. “Look, I know this is weird. I’m really sorry about how I acted Friday night. I think the combo of wine and the stress of the night made me…I don’t know, react strangely. I was out of line with that goodbye kiss situation.”
Wes swallowed hard, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “I didn’t exactly push you away. I should’ve realized you’d had too much to drink. I used to be a pro at spotting that with customers in restaurants, but I’m out of practice.”
Her gaze darted away. “No, the whole thing was on me. So I just wanted to say sorry.”
He forced a shrug. “No worries. No permanent damage.”
She gave him a tense smile. “Good. And hey, don’t feel like you need to stay back here if you have stuff to do. I can find my way back to the front. I know you had groceries to deal with.”
“It’s not a problem. Plus, Marco wouldn’t want me to leave a client back here alone. Hell, I’m surprised he let me back here. He’s very particular about rules. But I don’t know, maybe I should go up front and keep him safe from your friend. My brother looked ready to propose.”
Rebecca smirked. “Don’t worry about Kincaid. She flirts with every good-looking guy she comes across. It’s her way. She’s harmless. Mostly.”
Wes stood, unsure why hearing that Rebecca considered his brother good-looking annoyed him. Was Marco more her type? Mr. Responsible Doctor. He shoved his hands in his pockets, pushing the old jealous instinct down with them. That was dangerous territory.
“So I’m assuming those guys never showed up at your house?” he asked, changing the subject.
She looked back to the dog, stroking his scruffy head. “No. Not that I’ve been able to sleep, thinking about it, but I’m guessing if they haven’t shown up yet, they’re not going to. And the cops called and said they have a few leads.”
He frowned. “That sucks that you’re not sleeping, but I’m glad the police might be close to catching whoever it was.”
“Me too.”
“Well, if you adopt Scruffy the
“He should. Bastard,” she said, her tone hardening. “And I’m not adopting at this point. Just fostering.”
Wes watched how gently she stroked the dog, how attached she already seemed. “How come?”
She shrugged. “Like I told you Friday night, I’m always working. I wouldn’t be able to give him all the attention he deserves. He should have, like…a bustling household with a family and kids and stuff. Not a single woman who doesn’t get home until seven or eight each night.”
“Maybe he can be what inspires you to end your day a little earlier,” Wes suggested. “Give you something to come home to. A mini passion project.”
“We’ll see,” she said with a resigned tone, as if she didn’t believe that was a possibility at all.
Wes shifted and crossed his arms, fighting hard not to take his fill of the view. The slope of her bared neck, the hint of lace beneath her thin blouse, the narrow strip of skin exposed at her lower back. Look away, Garrett. “I never did get to ask you what keeps you so busy.”
Her shoulders drooped at that, and she let out a breath. “No, you didn’t.”
Something about the way she said it gave him pause. She gave the dog one last rub and then grabbed the cage to hoist herself up. When she turned to face him, her expression reminded him of the way the banker had looked when Wes had gotten turned down for the loan. “I’m an attorney.”
“Oh.” The words registered but also nudged something in the back of his brain. He frowned. “What kind?”
She cleared her throat. “Divorce.”
Divorce.
His stomach sank, flashes of an image coming back to him. A woman with short blond hair preaching to a judge about all of his flaws. A woman with sharp words and biting accusations. Mr. Garrett broke the vows of his marriage. Mr. Garrett can’t control his temper. Mr. Garrett drinks too much and scares his wife. My client deserves half of anything the restaurant’s worth.
Awareness dawned, pinpricks of cold fury breaking over his skin. He stared at Rebecca, switching out the hair color and cut. All his breath left him, and he stepped back. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Her throat bobbed. “Wes…”
“You represented my ex,” he said, voice flat. “Your last name is something with an L…”
“Lindt.”
Fuck. “You know who I am.”
And who he used to be. All those ugly things. Things he wished he could forget. Things he’d been so happy to be free of for a few hours Friday night.
“I—”
A chilling thought hit him. “When did you realize who I was?”
She winced.
“When?”
She sighed. “When I heard your last name at the clinic.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “So the whole time? And you just let the night go on like it did and didn’t say anything? You were… You kissed me, Rebecca. What the fuck?”
She turned her head with a cringe. “At first, I didn’t think it was relevant. The night had been stressful enough. I didn’t want to add to it.”
“But what about after that? All that talk about restaurants and passions and shit? You knew that I used to have a restaurant, how I lost it. You knew the whole time.” He scoffed. “No, you didn’t just know. You helped make that happen. Were you just laughing at me in your head? Was that kiss some sort of game?”
She frowned. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that. I just didn’t know how to undo the situation once it started rolling, and then wine happened and I got caught up in a moment. I thought by saying no to seeing you again, that it would be the end of it, but…here we are.”
He ran a hand over his face. “I can’t believe I bought dinner for the woman who helped take my restaurant from me.”
She stiffened at that. “Are you really going to hold it against me that I did my job?”
He gave her a hard look. “Why wouldn’t I? Brittany didn’t deserve a damn dime of my restaurant. I lost everything in that courtroom because her parents could afford a high-priced lawyer and Brittany could put on a show.”
Rebecca’s cheeks colored. “You cheated on your wife. You flipped out in court. I didn’t do those things. I just represented your wife to the best of my ability.”
His jaw clenched. “So that means you can rest easy at night, right? You did your job. That’s all that counts. It doesn’t matter if your client was lying or not. Or if you helped destroy someone else in the process. Just do your job and collect your nice paycheck. Got it.”
The dog barked at them as if sensing the tension.
“I don’t have to worry about if she was lying if there were pictures.”
A bitter taste filled his mouth. “And that tells the whole story, right?”
She crossed her arms.
His neck felt hot, all the old anger trying to bust through the surface. He wanted to yell, to tell her the whole damn story, to flip tables like he had in the courtroom. But then he’d just prove what she already thought of him. That he was out of control.
And what did it matter anyway? What was done was done, and after today, he would never see her again. She’d already decided who he was. Not her type. Yeah, no shit. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Whatever. Come on. I’m sure Marco is done with the paperwork, and I’m done with this.”
He turned to head back to the front.
“So you’re telling me that wasn’t you in the pictures?”
His fingers curled into his palms but he didn’t say a word. What was there to say? He couldn’t say no.
He needed to get the hell away from this woman. She was stirring up old shit he didn’t want to have to think about again, old versions of himself that he wanted buried. He could feel that treadmill speeding up, trying to knock him back. Thinking about all this was making venom rise up in his throat. Venom and destructive urges.
“Right,” she said, taking his non-answer for affirmation.
That did it. He whirled around, making her pull up short. “No, not right. You of all people should know that there are gray areas, different angles to see things from. Isn’t that what lawyers are supposed to find?”
“I’m not investigating a crime.”
“No, just convicting me.”
She let out a sound of frustration. “No, you’re convicting me. Look, I don’t care what you do in your personal life. That’s not my business. I know you’re not a completely awful person because you helped me the other night, and you seemed like a nice enough guy. But your ex hired me. I used the facts and evidence I had, and I did my job. If you’re going to hate me for that, then fine. But I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He made a sound of contempt. “Right.”
Her eyes held fire, but he turned on his heel and strode away. He didn’t need this crap right now. He just wanted to go upstairs to Marco’s place and get lost in prepping potential appetizers for the charity event. Not think about his Dumpster fire of a marriage. Or everything that had happened after the fall of a gavel in that courtroom.
Or why it bothered him so much that this woman had slapped a label on him and filed him away in the bastard category. So they’d shared a hot kiss. So what?
Rebecca Lindt’s opinion shouldn’t matter to him. But for some reason, the look on her face, that one that deemed him a cheater, a scumbag, an asshole who would step out on his wife got to him.
He couldn’t deny what was in those photos, though, and the truth would put that curl of disgust in her lip anyway. He didn’t know much about Rebecca Lindt, but he’d bet everything he had in the bank that she’d never experienced the kind of reckless dysfunction and drama he’d had in his marriage. In his life.
She was the woman whose house was neat as a ca
chapter
NINE
Rebecca followed Wes, anger simmering, and found Kincaid in the lobby beaming at Marco, her trademark smile at full sparkle. The doc looked totally and completely charmed. If he were a cartoon, he would have little hearts swimming around his head. Rebecca couldn’t blame him. Kincaid was a force of nature.
Rebecca had no idea what that would be like, to have guys fall over themselves to hold her attention. Kincaid had been that way since high school. She was that girl. And Rebecca couldn’t even hate her for it because Kincaid was a genuinely nice person. Rebecca had never seen her stoop to the mean-girl level.
No, Rebecca had been more likely to do that. Rebecca had done that. In the worst possible way. Her stomach twisted, but she tamped the feeling down before it could take over. She had enough to deal with right now. Like getting away from Wesley Garrett.
“All squared away?” Rebecca asked.
Marco glanced at her as he typed something into the computer. “We’re good to go. As long as our friend keeps progressing like he is and keeps showing us his docile personality, you’ll be able to foster him once he’s healed.”
“Great,” Rebecca said, feeling equal parts nervous and excited about the possibility of having a pet for a little while.
“Marco, I need to get these groceries upstairs,” Wes said from her right, the words sharp with impatience.
Rebecca tried to ignore the ire she could still feel wafting off Wes. How dare he blame her for what happened in the divorce? She didn’t make him cheat.
“All right, almost done.” Marco peered back at Wes with a smile. “And I found us some extra taste testers so we don’t have to rely on my steak-and-potatoes palate.”