Promises We Meant To Keep: Chapter 12

SYLVIE LOOKS the best I’ve ever seen her—and I’ve seen so many versions of her throughout the years, the number feels infinite. I’ve seen her younger and older, and skinny and frail, and lush and brimming with health, and everything in between. Mostly the in between is the version of Sylvie I’ve witnessed the last couple of years.

Now she’s the lush and brimming with health version. Her face is flushed and strands of untamed blonde hair waft across her face, thanks to the cool breeze coming from the unseen ocean. She keeps batting them away, her little scowl adorable.

She’s wearing a white T-shirt covered by a deep brown, oversized cardigan and jeans. Not a lick of makeup is on her face. She’s the plainest I’ve ever seen her.

And by far the most beautiful.

“I can’t believe you found me.” She keeps shaking her head, her eyes dancing with mischief. I think she fucking loves the fact that I found her. “How did you do it?”

I tap my temple with my index finger. “Used my brain.”

“You’ve always had such a big one.” Her tone, her smile is suggestive, and she laughs at my scowl. “Take off your sunglasses,” she demands. “I want to see you.”

I whip them off for her, slipping them into my jacket pocket. She stares at me for a long time, her gaze roving. Drinking me in. I don’t move. I let her look her fill, until she takes a step forward and pats me gently on the chest.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmurs.

I catch her hand, my fingers circling around her delicate wrist bones. It would take nothing to crush her, not that I would ever do that. She’s so finely made, so easily crushable.

The flare in her bright blue eyes tells me she’s stronger. This girl isn’t going to let anyone push her around anymore.

Hopefully.

“I’m still mad at you,” I admit, deciding to be truthful.

“I’m still mad at you too,” she returns just as truthfully, and I’m taken aback.

“Why are you mad at me?”

“You were mean to me at the wedding.”

She’s right. I was.

“If you’re so mad, then why are you here?”

“Whit asked me to find you.”

The hurt in her gaze is unmistakable and she jerks her hand out of my grip, taking a step back. “So you’re here for my brother. You found me at his request.”

Only Sylvie would be insulted by her family being worried about her and coming to me for assistance.

“No.” I shake my head. “I turned him down. I didn’t want to be involved. He told me you’ve been missing for weeks and I said it wasn’t my problem.”

Sylvie lifts her chin, ever defiant. “Then why are you here?”

I could lie, but there’s no point. I’ve always been truthful with Sylvie. She’s the little liar in this relationship.

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and wondering where you were. I went on a deep internet search and eventually figured it out.” I don’t tell her I figured it out only last night. Or that I never told her brother I actually found her.

I wanted to see her for myself first.

She relaxes at my words, her lips curved in a barely-there smile. “And how did you find me?”

“I went through the various court documents that involved your husband.” She flinches at the word husband, but otherwise, doesn’t say a word. “Finally came across a few deeds on properties he owned in the city. Started digging for more and stumbled upon one in California that he transferred into your name.”

I can tell by her expression that she’s impressed.

“It was a surprise to me too,” she admits. “I didn’t know he even owned this house. Neither did his children. He never brought me here.”

“Were they pissed?” I raise my brows.

“I asked my lawyer the same thing.” She shakes her head. “I suppose not. They never knew about it, so it’s hard to be mad over something you never thought belonged to you in the first place. I guess he owned it for a very short time. It’s almost as if he planned for this to be here. For me. My own little sanctuary.” She glances around, breathing deep. Her henchman still stands by her side, his arms crossed and his glaring dark eyes all for me. “I love it here.”

“You’ll have to show me around.” I pause. “If you’ll let me stay.”

Sylvie contemplates me, tilting her head to the side, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulder. I’m filled with the urge to bury my hands in the silky softness. Press my face into her hair and breathe in her scent. My senses are buzzing, fully awake and attuned to this woman, and I understand completely why I came here. Why I sought her out.

I’m still in love with her. Like a complete dumbass.

“I’ll let you stay for the day,” she concedes. “I’ll even give you a tour.”

I incline my head toward her. “How generous of you.”

She looks over at her groundskeeper. The guy had a fucking shotgun clutched in his hand when he stopped me earlier from progressing any farther down the driveway. He’s lucky I didn’t pull out the handgun I tossed in the glove compartment box when I first slid into the car after renting it, and aim it at his fucking forehead. “You can go back to your house, Roland. I’ve got this.”

“Who is he?” Roland flicks his chin in my direction, his arms crossed, legs spread wide in a bracing stance. Like I’m coming for him at any second and he’s ready for it.

He’s bold, I’ll give him that. Asking her who I am. I’ve known her longer than him and he acts like he’s her damn father.

“My first love.” Her gaze seeks out mine. “The boy who first broke my heart.”

I snicker. “More like you broke mine.”

We stare at each other in silence until Roland breaks the trance with a snort.

“So it’s like that then.” Roland shakes his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’ll leave you two be. But if you need anything, Miss Lancaster, anything at all, you give me a call, okay? It will take me less than two minutes to get here.”

The threatening glare he sends in my direction almost makes me laugh.

“I will, Roland,” she says. “I promise.”

“I’ve known her for years, Roland,” I tell him, my voice gruff. “Nothing is going to happen to her.”

He points a gnarled finger in my direction. “You make sure of that, young man. You’re too rich and fancy for my blood, but then again, so is Miss Lancaster. I’m guessing you two might be okay for each other.”

Before either of us can say anything, he’s striding off the porch, moving fairly fast for an older man. Maybe he’s not as old as I thought.

Within minutes, Roland is back in his beat-up old Ford truck and driving away, kicking up dust once he comes off the circular driveway. We watch him go, the roar of the truck’s engine growing more and more distant, until I can’t hear it any longer.

With the vehicle gone, I realize it’s unnervingly quiet here, surrounded by the lush, thick forest. The occasional chirp of a bird, or the pine branches gently swaying with the breeze are the only sounds. My gaze goes to the thicket of trees, staring at nothing. It feels as if someone is watching me in the hushed, thick forest and I glance over my shoulder.

But there’s nothing there.

Sylvie is smiling when I return my attention to her, and for a moment, I savor that flash of teeth. The sparkle in her gaze. How good it feels to be in her presence once more.

Did she doubt I’d find her? Did she think of me at all? Probably not. She’s selfish. Self-indulgent.

She doesn’t even have to officially summon me, and here I am, just like anyone else who does the Lancaster bidding. Rushing to get to her without hesitation.

The logical side of my brain tells me I probably shouldn’t have come. My gut warns it could be a mistake. My brain is reminding me of all the shitty things she’s ever done to me.

Yet here I am, and she’s so damn happy. I can see it in the sparkle of her blue eyes, the size of her smile. She gives up all earlier pretense of coolness and throws herself at me, her arms going around my neck as she presses that newly lush body against mine.

“I can’t believe you came,” she breathes, just before she settles her mouth on mine in the briefest, ripest kiss.

I’ve always thought her lips were like the most delectable fruit. Swollen and luscious. Sweet and tart.

My little angel who’s really a devil in disguise. Aren’t the fallen the ones who were the purest to start with? That’s Sylvie. I’m surprised she’s still not sprouting the black feathers she wore for her Halloween costume long ago.

I rest my hands lightly on her waist, keeping her still, so she doesn’t come any closer. “You’re not surprised, Syl. You knew eventually I’d show up.”

She leans back, her eyes on mine, her lips parted. So many unspoken words rest on her tongue and they remain that way. Unsaid. She drives me out of my fucking mind.

I’m a glutton for punishment.

The sun shines upon her hair, spinning it into gold, and she reminds me of a wood sprite. An evil little fairy. She’d delight in giving me pleasure, as well as cutting me with the sharpest knife.

My body grows tight anticipating the pain she’ll bring me.

The pleasure.

“What’s going on in your head, hmm?” Her voice is like a hum, low and vibrating along my nerve endings and I shake my head slowly.

“You don’t want to know.” I set her away from me, proud of my strength. Resisting her is my greatest weakness. “You should make good on your promise and show me around.”

Her gaze rakes over me, taking in my suit. I wear it like armor to protect me from her, and I’m already desperate to shed it. “I can’t give you a tour while you’re dressed like that.”

“Show me the house first.” I point toward the front door. “And after that, if you still want me to stick around, I can change and we can look around the property.”

“Did you bring a suitcase?”

A giant one. I don’t say that out loud though. “I came prepared.”

“My smart, smart Spence.” She laughs. “Okay, come on. Let me show you the house.”

I follow her inside, immediately hit with her scent, mixed with woodsy pine. I blame the walls and the ceiling, which are mostly constructed with roughly hewn wood walls. The interior has seen better days, but it’s rustic and charming, yet also somehow large and spacious. There are windows everywhere, some running floor to ceiling, showcasing the endless acres of trees.

“Where’s the ocean?” I ask as we stop in front of the giant windows that overlook the backyard and the forest beyond.

“Out there.” She points. “Past the trees.”

“You can access the beach from here?”

“Yes, just over the hill. There are trails everywhere, all over the property. It’s like a park. My own little personal park.”

I almost laugh at her using the word “little”. There is nothing small about it. “This property is worth a tremendous amount of money,” I observe. I did some research. He bought it for ten million, but it’s worth all of fifteen now. Maybe even more.

“I’m worth a tremendous amount of money,” she says, that Lancaster ego ringing through her words. “I won’t sell this.”

“I’m not suggesting you should.”

A sigh leaves her and she angles her body toward mine. “When I found out Earl did this for me, that he bought me this, I knew immediately I had to come out here. And I didn’t want to tell anyone. I didn’t want them to know about it.”

“Why not?” I want to hear her actual reasoning for once. Not a bunch of excuses or fanciful bullshit. “Be real with me, Syl.”

She’s quiet for a moment, the only sound the occasional chirping of a bird. The rustle of the trees. I’m not used to quiet like this. I prefer the city with all its noise and people yelling. Horns honking and loud music playing.

“I wanted to escape from my life.” A sigh leaves her and she looks away. “From my mother.”

I say nothing. I don’t know all the details between them, but I want her to tell me eventually. When she’s ready.

“From everyone, really.” She returns her attention to me, her expression fierce. “The city. High society. I’m sick of being Sylvie Lancaster. I just wanted to be…me. Just Sylvie. Nothing else attached.”

That’s impossible, but I understand what she’s trying to say.

“At first, I was scared living in this big house, all alone. Thank God for Roland.” She laughs, and it’s a soft, husky sound that settles in my gut. Stirs my dick. “I’m starting to get used to it though. It’s so quiet. Nothing like the city.”

“It’s unnerving.”

“Right?”

I nod, filled with the urge to reach out and touch her, but I quell it. I can’t be weak. I’m here as a friend. Nothing more.

Ah, the lies we tell ourselves. It’s almost embarrassing, how easily I believe myself when it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

I can never just be Sylvie’s friend. Not when I know the taste of her mouth. The feel of her naked body beneath mine. The way she looks when she comes. The snug sensation of her pussy wrapped around my cock.

There’s too much history between us. It’s painful and it’s rough, but it runs deep. So deep, it’s as if she throbs in my veins. In my blood.

In the depths of my very soul.