“Oh, I know it’s your house. And this is your dress.” She slapped her hands at her skirt. “And you got my car fixed and forgave my dad’s loan. It’s all yours, Trevor. What do I bring to the table?”
He did reach out then and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to him. “You make me feel human.” He kissed her, hard. “And you make me laugh.” The next kiss was tender. “And you keep me from killing my parents.” He showered her face with tiny pecks, her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. Then abruptly, he let her go. “But I won’t stop you from leaving if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I want.” She put her hand over his heart.
It skipped a beat. He wondered if she felt that through her palm. “What do you want, Miss Campbell?”
She looked up at him with those impossibly blue eyes. “I want—”
There was a quiet knock at the door. “Mister Blake, Miss Campbell, is this a convenient time, or shall I come back?”
Allie leaned her head against Trevor’s chest and gave a little laugh.
Trevor groaned. “Come in, Arnold.”
Allie spun to face the door, and Trevor wrapped his arms around her waist. “Yes?”
“Miss Monica is leaving. I thought you should know.”
“Where’s she going?” Allie asked.
“I’m not sure, but she’s packing as we speak.”
“Thank you, Arnold,” Trevor said. After the butler left the room, Trevor rested his chin on Allie’s shoulder. “Damn, I was hoping for makeup sex.”
***
Trevor wanted her to stay. Did that mean he cared about her? She shouldn’t get sidetracked, thinking about Trevor and his feelings. Monica was leaving—probably going back to Brad the Douche the minute he snapped his fingers.
As she left the office and made her way upstairs, Trevor shortened his stride to match hers. Allie stood outside Monica’s room, Trevor at her side. Peering down at her, he reached out and caressed her cheek.
Wanting wasn’t the same as loving, she reminded herself, and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Allie entered the room, but Trevor remained in the doorway. Clothes were strewn over every surface. How it could get like this in one day?
“You’re leaving?”
Monica wadded up a shirt and shoved in her duffel bag. “What was your first clue?”
“So, I take it you’ve heard from Brad?” Trevor asked, lounging against the doorjamb.
“Yeah. He said he’s sorry. He only cheated because I came here after being in jail. He was scared he was going to lose me, and he made a mistake.”
That’s what all the drama was about, Brad cheating? That was the dumbest excuse Allie’d ever heard. And her sister was moron enough to believe it. Did Monica get dropped on her head as a baby—what else could explain this level of stupidity? Allie literally had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from trying to talk Monica out of it. Minding her own business was hard.
“Call me this week if you want to get together and have lunch,” Allie said.
Monica froze and glanced up. “What? No, ‘Monica you’re ruining your life’ speech?”
Allie shrugged. “As you’ve pointed out many times, you’re an adult. You can make your own decisions.” Mistakes was the word she was looking for.
“Oh.” Monica looked a little deflated before she resumed tossing her things in the bag. “By the way, I need to borrow some money for a lawyer. The court said they would appoint one, but Brad said to get a real one.” She paused and looked from Allie to Trevor.
“Sorry, Mon, I don’t have it, and if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you.”
“What? Since when?” Her brow furrowed as she glared at Allie.
Allie walked further into the room and fisted her hands to keep from taking everything out of that duffel bag and refolding it. “Since you want to make your own choices. Choices have consequences.” Just saying the words about killed her. She wanted to go with Monica to pick out the best lawyer they could afford—which wouldn’t be much, but she still wanted to help. And she wanted to lecture Monica on the stupidity of dropping out of school and dating losers. But what was the point?
“You’re just mad because I said you’re fucking Trevor for the clothes and shit, aren’t you?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Allie saw Trevor push off the doorjamb. He strode forward, but she placed a hand on his forearm. She felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers. But when she squeezed his arm, he relaxed a bit.
“Aren’t you always talking about being a family? What good is family if you won’t help me out?”
“I’m always here to listen, Mon. Call me any time.”
“Is Brad coming to pick you up?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah.” Monica looked under the bed and snagged a bra, shoving it into the outer pocket of the bag. She rose and slung it over her shoulder. “Thanks for letting me stay. Let me know if you change your mind about the lawyer.” She moved past them and walked out of the room.
Allie watched her go and sat on the bed. Monica had zero self-awareness. How did you save someone from themselves?
“If she ever says anything to hurt you again, she will never be welcome in my house.” Trevor sat down next to her. “But you did well with her. I was about to rip her to shreds, but you kept your cool.”
Allie opened her mouth to speak when Arnold suddenly popped up in the doorway. The poor man looked frazzled. Well, frazzled for him—his tie was slightly askew.
“Miss Monica is having a rather loud discussion with a young man at the gate and Carl wants to know if he should call the authorities.”
Trevor sighed. “Thank you, Arnold. We’ll deal with it.” Trevor rested his forehead against hers. “Am I ever going to get you alone?”
Allie patted his knee. “It’s not looking good, English.”
Mags and Nigel strolled into the room.
“Trev, who is this yob at the gate?” Nigel asked.
“I’m going to go straighten it out.” Trevor stood and walked past his parents.
“Not without me,” Nigel said.
Allie followed the two men out of the room. “I guess I should make sure Trevor doesn’t kill Brad.”
Placing a hand on Allie’s arm, Mags stopped her. “What happened? Did the two of you argue?”
“We’re fine,” Allie said.
“Is this Brad Monica’s young man?”
“Yep.” Allie sped down the stairs and out the front door. Raised voices floated on the night air. Without hesitating, she ran to the gate.
When she reached them, Nigel stood with his finger in Brad’s face. Carl stood to one side, ready to intervene. The embedded lights in the yard as well as the security lights by the guard house illuminated them.
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Nigel said. Allie had never heard him use such a forceful tone.
“I’m just here to pick up Monica, and I wanted to meet Trev. What’s your deal, old man?”
Trevor stepped forward, his chest almost touching Brad’s. “That old man is my father. And you will speak to him with respect. Understood?” Ice dripped from Trevor’s words.
Brad stepped back and held up his hands. “No prob. Don’t get all bent.”
“Monica, you may stay, but this wanker needs to go.”
“You’d do well to be rid of him, love,” Nigel said.
“Shut the fuck up.” Brad puffed out his chest and held his hands out to his sides. “You want to go, old timer?”
“Anytime, you bloody git.” Nigel leaped forward, but Carl stepped between them.
Allie placed her hand on Nigel’s back. “Calm down. Mags would kill us if you mess up that pretty face.” She turned to Monica. “Take your boyfriend and go, before I call the police.”
Monica placed her hand on Brad’s arm. “Let’s just go. Please?”
Brad pulled out of her grasp. “Shut up, Monica, and get your ass in the car. I’m trying to have a conversation with Trev.”
“Call me Trev one more time and I’ll kick your sorry ass all the way back to North Las Vegas. Now, get the fuck out of here.” He turned to Monica. “Are you sure you want to go with him?”