The Construction Worker & the Billionaire 2 Read online

  But even that hadn’t gone according to plan. In fact, that was simply the day when her entire world had started to slowly unravel.

  “What the fuck was I even thinking?” she muttered to herself, pacing away down the street towards her car. “The man’s a cheater—of course I found a woman in his bed.”

  They were fighting words, helping her keep the rage alive. But even as she said them, a part of her had to admit that they weren’t entirely true. A part had to see the fault in the logic.

  Dylan wasn’t a cheater, because Dylan never had a girlfriend. He made no commitments, had no one steady for him to cheat on. The women were the cheaters, he was merely the willing instrument of their marital destruction.

  But this...this was different. We were together, weren’t we? Did I get that wrong?

  A wave of depression cut through the rage, and she stopped where she stood. Bowing her head as forbidden tears stung the corners of her eyes. There she was, already using the past tense.

  Falling asleep on the porch swing? Making me breakfast in bed, and trying to bake a pie? Those weren’t the things that Dylan did with his mistresses. It was different, wasn’t it?

  Before she could answer the question, there was a sudden noise behind her. Her muscles tensed, and she glanced around to see Dylan sprinting towards her—a look of panic in his eyes. She was sure he was good at perfecting his stories after he was caught. Because that’s what good playboys did. They con. They make women hope there is still a damn chance. Because that’s what they do.

  “Lacy—wait!”

  Just like that, the rage came back. The depression was nowhere to be seen.

  “Leave me the fuck alone!” she growled, storming up the street. She had parked her car here somewhere, she was sure of it. “I’m sure your special friend is waiting.”

  A hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around on the spot.

  “She’s not my friend,” he panted, trying to catch his breath. “I’ve never seen...” He trailed off suddenly, as a peculiar look flashed across his face. A second later, he was back in control. “I asked her to leave. All of that is behind me now.”

  “It’s behind you?” She put her hands on her hips, glaring up into his eyes. “The parade of naked women that climb in and out of your bed are all behind you? You’ll just cancel all future rendezvous? Send a collection tin around the greater Cleveland area to collect your house keys?”

  His handsome face fell with a quiet sigh. One that seemed remarkably out of character for someone like him. One that tugged on Lacy’s heartstrings, no matter what she did to fight it.

  “Look, things are...complicated.” He shifted uneasily, looking like he was dying to reach out and pull her into his arms. “But at the same time, they’ve never been so clear. I want to be with you, Lacy. No one else. Never again. Just...you.”

  There was a heavy pause. Then she looked intently into his eyes.

  “And why should I believe you?”

  His lips parted, but for one of the first times since they’d met, he hadn’t the slightest clue what to say. He simply stared on helplessly, as she proceeded to tear his life apart.

  “Why should I believe the man who has a different girl in his bed every single day of the week? Hmm?” She stood up on her toes, right in his face. “Why should I believe the man who I met when I burst into his house—catching him in the act of destroying someone else’s marriage? Why should I believe the man who thinks that monogamy is a guideline, not a rule?”

  The words rang out between them, laying him bare with each one. It was quiet for a long time. Long enough that she thought he was simply going to walk away.

  But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He stood his ground instead. Saying whatever he needed to in order to keep her in his life. Humbling himself in a way that she didn’t think was possible.

  “You shouldn’t.”

  Lacy blinked at him, convinced that she’d heard wrong. “...excuse me?”

  He bowed his head, eyes tightening with an unspeakable sort of pain.

  “You shouldn’t believe me. You should protect yourself. You should walk away.”

  Her mouth fell open in absolute shock, unable to believe what she was hearing.

  “Is that...is that what you want?”

  “No!” he exclaimed, reaching forward without thinking to take her hands. “Of course not! Lacy...I want to be with you. Just you. Those other women be damned. But I don’t...” He trailed off, staring miserably into her eyes. “I don’t know how to convince you of that. There’s not a reason in the world for you to believe me, and the only thing I want more than to be with you, is for you to be happy. If you can’t be happy with me, then...”

  He stared at her a moment more, then dropped his head in defeat. “If you can’t be happy with me, then I need to let you go. So you can be happy. Even if it’s hating me. Even if it’s with someone else. I would do anything for you, Lacy. Anything you needed.”

  For a long time, she simply stared at him. Why would he be saying these things if they weren’t true? Given the fact that he was standing on the sidewalk, she assumed that he’d ousted the woman waiting in his bed. Why would he have done that if he didn’t mean it? If he wasn’t willing to give the two of them a try?

  “I want to believe you,” she finally whispered, staring down at their enjoined hands. “I really do. But I just...I’ve seen the way you are, Dylan. You can’t date just one girl. You can’t do it. Even if you want to. Even if you try. Someone else will always be there—getting between us. I don’t want to be missing you, dreaming about you, being in the dumped club, because that’s not how I roll.”

  A look of quiet desperation clouded his face as he shook his head, staring deep into her eyes. “I promise you—that isn’t true. I know you have no reason to believe me. I know it would make more sense to walk away...but I promise it isn’t true. That’s not...that’s not who I am.”

  Anymore. He forgot to tag on that pesky little word. Anymore. Because the truth of the matter was, Dylan Stone was a philandering playboy. Anything he said to deny it was just words.

  Lacy’s heart broke as she stared up at him for a second more. Then she pulled her hands away with a broken sigh. “You can’t change a player. Nobody knows that more than me. And I refuse to get in any deeper. I’m so sorry. But this is over. Don’t call me again. I don’t want to see you. This...this is done.”

  “You’re letting our love get tainted because of my past actions? I don’t care about any other girl I’ve ever dated. I only care about you. There is only you in my life and I swear to you that is the truth. That’s how much you’ve touched my soul. And sure, the road is a little bumpy, but we can get past this.”

  “No...we can’t. Because the road is more than a little bumpy. It’s filled with humongous, giant sinkholes, so damn deep that even you as a construction worker could never fix them!”

  A rush of cold air swept between them, as she turned on her heel and walked away.

  Before he could say a word to stop her. Before he could see her start to cry.

  Chapter 3

  “Hiiiiii—yah!”

  There was a mighty crash, as a giant armless mannequin smashed into the ground. It popped back up a second later, the same solemn expression forever clouding its face.

  “Well done, Lacy!” A male instructor called out from across the room, clapping his hands together and gesturing to the dummy. “Great form!”

  Sitting against the wall behind her, Stella scoffed into her smoothie. “I don’t think it’s great form so much, as massive amounts of rage...”

  Lacy ignored them both, clenching her teeth together as she attacked the dummy again.

  “Just because you’re not acknowledging me doesn’t mean I’m going to go away,” Stella continued, hastily stretching out her legs when another instructor gave her the evil eye. “We have to talk about it sometime or another. You can’t just beat up mannequins forever...”

  Another pun
ch, followed by a sharp kick to the head. The springs creaked precariously.

  “Or maybe you can,” Stella continued cheerfully. “Of course, I’d be pretty pissed off too if I’d let a guy that looked like Dylan Stone slip through my trigger-happy little fingers...”

  The blitz attack came to a sudden pause.

  “Seriously? Is that what this is?” Lacy whipped around, biting loose the velcro that held together her gloves. “You think I let him slip through my fingers?”

  “Your trigger-happy fingers, yeah.” Stella nodded practically, digging a packet of sugar out of her purse and dumping it discreetly into her drink. Technically, you weren’t allowed to sit in the gym without doing anything productive, but as long as she was in the process of nourishing her body, she seemed to think it was allowed. “Not that I’m surprised, you’re always this way when it comes to relationships. Ever since Jeff—”

  “Don’t make this about him.” Lacy flashed her a scathing glare and returned to her workout, trying her best to tune out her best friend’s constant chorus of chatter. “It isn’t.”

  They’d gotten a shared membership to the local grin about six months ago. Lacy was determined to take some basic self-defense classes, and Stella had decided that there was nothing better to do in preparation for ‘bathing suit season.’ They were lofty goals, to be sure. But in practice, both women took to them a bit differently.

  While Lacy had seized upon kickboxing with a fervor, Stella took one look at the treadmill and decided to visit the snack bar instead. One missed workout turned into two, turned into three, and before they knew it—six months had gone by.

  Now, both women had a tradition. Lacy would come to the gym and beat the hell out of some mannequin, while Stella would slurp a smoothie by her side. Waxing philosophical on life.

  It was a testament to how bad things had gotten, that she abandoned her leisurely position now and came to stand in front of her friend—wrapping her arms casually around the dummy’s armless shoulders, as she leaned down to catch Lacy’s eye.

  “Sweetie, I know you don’t want to make this about Jeff. But the fact of the matter is, you haven’t been the same since...since that happened. You need to deal with it and move on.”

  Lacy pounded her fists together, bouncing from foot to foot.

  “Move—so I can hit it.”

  Stella stood her ground.

  “Not until we talk about this.”

  There was a pause.

  “Move—or else I’ll hit you.”

  Principles be damned—it turned out Stella could move after all.

  “This isn’t going to go away.” She perched lightly on the weight bench next to them, running her fingers along the metal bar. “You really need to deal with it—”

  “And how do you suggest I do that, huh?” Lacy ripped off her gloves, throwing them down onto the floor. “What steps do you suggest I take towards recovery? Oh! I know—how about I go home with my new boyfriend only to find a naked fucking girl in his bed! AGAIN!”

  The gym fell suddenly silent as her words bounced off the walls, echoing back again and again. Fifty sweaty strangers shot her the same look, then hurried to avert their eyes. Even the mannequins seemed to be dodging her gaze.

  “Why does that always happen?” Lacy murmured, as the buzz of conversation slowly picked up again. “Every time we say anything remotely controversial...”

  Stella shook her head, surveying the crowd with a critical eye. “I’ve told you before how I think this whole place is wired. Moments like these only strengthen my theory.”

  Both women laughed briefly, before Lacy went back to her training and Stella went back to her smoothie. They had been friends long enough that they could speak honestly without any lasting consequence. And they’d tested those limits enough to know when to back off.

  But even though that warning light was flashing, Stella pushed the conversation just a little bit further. Lacy Larson had never gotten over her long-term boyfriend’s affair. This had become common knowledge. But it had never been a problem until now.

  “What did he say when you left?” she asked quietly.

  There was a pause in Lacy’s rhythm, before she smashed her fists into the dummy.

  “He said that it was all in his past. That he didn’t want to be with any other woman. That he only wanted to be with me.” Another punch—this one caught the mannequin right in the throat. “Bunch of pandering bullshit, right?”

  Stella gave her a look of supreme pity, before slowly shaking her head.

  “Yeah...he sounds like a real jerk.”

  The incessant pounding stopped, giving the dummy a moment’s reprieve.

  “Why can’t you just be on my side? This is Dylan Stone, we’re talking about. He’s the playboy king of the world. You know all about him. I’ve talked about him for months. His sexcapades, his record—”

  “Yeah, but then I saw him with my own eyes at my birthday party,” Stella interjected. “I saw the way he was looking at you. Sweet, not cocky. And definitely not assuming. He was a gentleman to a fault. I saw how he went out of his way to be nice to all your friends.” She paused guiltily. “Even when they were drunk and falling all over him...”

  Lacy bowed her head with a snort of laughter.

  “You asked me to give him away as a present. Naked.”

  Stella flushed, then brushed it off all in the same instant. “My point exactly. Even when the guy had every reason to run, he stuck around. For you.” She pulled herself off of the weight bench, tossing her drink in the trash. “Didn’t you tell me that he had standing appointments with different women around town? Couldn’t it be possible that he simply forgot to cancel? Especially given the fact that he let you walk right into his bedroom—like he didn’t think she’d be there?”

  Lacy looked down at the floor. “Yeah, I guess...”

  “And didn’t you tell me that the first time you met him—you know, when you brought a lunatic into his house to kick his ass—he was super cool about it? Not only did he not press charges, but he actually went down to the station just to bail the guy out of jail?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So that’s Dylan Stone,” Stella concluded. “That’s what I’ve seen with my own eyes, and that’s what I believe. The guy’s crazy about you, Lacy. I’m sure he’s trying to break up with all those other girls. You had a profound effect on him. I can tell by the way he looks at you. Give him another chance.”

  Lacy turned her back to the dummy and stared out the window—pushing her damp hair away from her eyes. She wished she simply didn’t care. It would be so much easier that way. She wished she could forget all about Dylan Stone. That charming smile. Those magical eyes.

  She tried to change the subject. “I seen some guy in the shadows watching me. And I swear I saw a flash too.”

  “Like he was taking a picture?”

  “Yes. He was watching me, but I couldn’t see his face.”

  “I’ll check it out for you before we leave.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Her mind returned to Dylan. She wished she wasn’t wondering what he was doing right then. If he was staring out a window like she was. If he was thinking about her, like she was thinking about him.

  But she couldn’t forget him. And she couldn’t trust him either.

  “What would it take?” Stella prompted softly, watching her friend with a patient kind of concern. “What would it take for you to forgive him?”

  Those wistful feelings vanished on the spot, as Lacy picked up her gloves and turned back to the mannequin. “It would take a fucking miracle...”

  Chapter 4

  Sometimes, the universe has a funny way of working things out. When Lacy got up the next morning and headed to the café for her morning latte, she had no idea that her entire life was about to change. That the cosmos had heard her request for a miracle, and had taken it to heart.

  There wasn’t a single thing out of the ordinary. Not a single thing to cue h
er in that something was coming. The birds were chirping. The café was bustling. And no one at all noticed her as she took her place in the back of the line. The hands on the clock moved slowly, as she moved up, person by person. By the time she got to the counter and ordered her drink, she was already lost in thought—contemplating the ins and outs of her day.

  First, she had to close out the Dylan Stone file, once and for all. It was a miracle that he hadn’t decided to press charges against her client, and she certainly wasn’t going to tempt fate by investigating him again. (She certainly wasn’t going to tempt fate by seeing him again either. There was only so long the two of them could be alone, before somebody’s clothes came off.) Quin would be crushed not to see fresh pictures of him, but there was nothing left to be done. Case closed. After that, she had to set up a sting operation for the Mulligan case. The poor woman who’d contacted her was convinced her husband was having an affair, and Lacy had vowed to find out for sure.

  “Your latte, miss.”

  Lacy reached across the counter and took it with a distracted smile—almost running into the man standing behind her at the same time. “Oh—sorry about that!”

  The man smiled kindly, reaching out to steady her shoulders. “It’s no problem.” His eyes flickered down to the coffee in her hands. “Double shot of espresso, huh? Must be a tough day.”

  She laughed briefly and flashed him a parting smile. “You have no idea...”

  The crowd parted before her as she headed back outside, pushing open the door and stepping out into the bright sunlight.

  Now why can’t I meet a guy like that? Simple. Sweet. Polite. Probably hasn’t slept with at least half of the city. Why can’t I fall in love with someone like ‘coffee shop guy?’

  The screech of an electric guitar stopped her in her tracks. Followed by a deafening musical swell. Followed by a sudden silence as the world grew abruptly still.

  What the hell?!

  Her eyes darted around as she searched for the source of the noise—freezing in the middle of the sidewalk like so many other people. Baffled by what was happening. Was it some sort of flash mob? Was everyone about to start dancing?