Donut Swipe Right Page 4
But I have no right to intrude on her life.
I have no claim on her.
As much as the man inside of me wants her to be mine, it’s not what she wanted.
One night.
That’s all she asked for.
No names.
She couldn’t have made it any clearer she wouldn’t want anything to do with me afterwards.
Just sex.
While the act of sex is intimate, it means nothing between two complete strangers. If that were true, then why am I still feeling this way? Why can’t I stop thinking about her?
Why? Why? Why?
Mine.
The thought surfaces for the first time in a week, and the urge it creates inside of me is just as it was before. Primal. Animalistic.
I want to claim her, mark her, make her mine in all ways. I don’t want another man touching what is mine; the thought of it happening nearly sends me into a blind rage.
Fuck, Will, get it together.
I slump to the floor, feeling defeated because there’s no way I can continue like this. There’s only one thing that will make it go away. One thing that will make it right.
Her.
My Lizzy.
I type the message into my phone, not caring any longer about her terms, because I have terms of my own.
They include her in my bed every night, even if I have to tie her up to keep her there. And it’s not just sex I’m after. I want it all.
For the first time in my life, I can say it without cringing. There’s no wild panic or doubt.
I want it all, and I want it with her.
Mine.
MrDarcy: Have you recovered?
I press send, and my phone pings instantly, causing the blood to freeze in my veins.
[ERROR: CaliGirl24 user account no longer active]
My heart sinks. What the fuck?
She didn’t block me like I thought she would. She closed her account instead.
Why would she do that?
Did she find someone else?
No, fuck that. There’s no replacing what we have.
There has to be another reason.
At my limit of this app and the bullshit that comes with it, I hit the speed dial on my phone.
I’m going to get to the bottom of this one way or another, and I am going to get my girl.
Will Darcy always gets what he wants.
She’s no exception.
The line rings once before the soft voice comes on the line, “Cole Securities.”
“Annabel, this is Will Darcy. I have a job for Sneak. Is he around?”
I might not know who she is, but I have people who can find out for me. No matter the cost, I will have her name by the day’s end.
9
Elizabeth
“What do you mean, you don’t want to talk about it?” Dee screeches from her spot on the stool. This time I’m the one powdering the fresh tray of lemon-filled donuts.
I’ve been doing whatever I can around the bakery to keep busy and keep my mind off Darcy. Since Dee had no deliveries for me this morning, I pushed her aside and decided to take my frustration out on the donuts.
“Exactly what I said,” I reply coldly.
There was no sense in hiding what happened between Darcy and me from her. She knew something had happened when I walked into the shop later than usual. It didn’t help that I walked stiff and slow for days because of the soreness between my legs. But it didn’t mean I had to share any of the sordid details about my night with him.
I haven’t, but if I’m honest, it’s killing me not to.
The last thirteen days have been the absolute worst. I thought leaving Miles was hard; it was nothing compared to the way I felt walking out of the hotel room, leaving him behind.
“Something’s bothering you,” she points out, crossing her arms. “You need to talk about it.”
“I’m not ready, Dee,” I snap. Powdered sugar flies out of my hand, landing all over the counter and the floor. “What happened was a mistake, and I’m not ready to talk about it, so can you please lay off?”
“A mistake? It didn’t look like one when I saw you the next morning… or the days following. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing.”
“Maybe you should talk to him, have it out.” Normally, I’d agree, but the option isn’t on the table.
“I can’t.”
“Why not? Just call him. I’m sure he would love to glaze your donut again.”
I roll my eyes, ignoring her innuendo. She’s always coming up with some way to make what she does for a living dirty.
“I can’t call him. I don’t have his number,” I say, hoping she drops it. The last thing I need right now is a lecture about how stupid I am for coming up with the terms of my agreement with him.
“So, text him on the app.”
“I closed my account.”
She frowns, trying her hardest to decode what I’m saying, but it’s not difficult. “What the fuck is going on?”
I stop sifting the sugar and set it down on the counter. I knew I should have called in sick today.
“Fine, but I don’t want to hear anything from you about it, okay?”
“Deal.” She nods.
“I can’t call him or message him because we agreed it was a one-night thing. Just sex,” I finish, looking down because I don’t want to see her reaction.
“A one-night stand,” she sums up.
“Yes, only…” I trail off, unable to say the next part because I haven’t been able to admit it to myself.
“Only what?”
“Only I didn’t expect to connect with him the way I did. I don’t even know his real name, Dee. Yet I felt something so deep with him I can’t explain it.”
“Must’ve been some phenomenal sex.”
“It was earth shattering, but it was more than sex. When we first started talking, I honestly thought he was some arrogant prick, but when he didn’t press me for sex, I realized I was wrong. He was honest. He was genuine. It’s hard to explain, but there was something about him that called to me.”
“Then why did you close your account?”
“Because we both agreed to the terms.”
“Were these his suggestions?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“They were mine,” I mutter softly after a moment of silence. There isn’t a reason to keep it from her. After all, I was only taking her advice.
“Lizzy, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She laughs.
“You’re the one who told me I needed a one-night stand to clean out the cobwebs—”
“Not if you connected with the guy on some deeper level.”
“It’s a hookup app, Dee. How was I supposed to know I’d feel like this after everything was said and done?” I lift the tray of half-sprinkled donuts and add them to the rack. I take another tray and place it onto the counter, picking the sifter back up and repeating the process.
“How long did you talk to him before you hooked up?”
“A few days.”
“Well, fuck, no wonder you did it wrong. Sis, you don’t talk to a hookup for a few days before the act of hooking up.” She shakes her head, trying to hold back a smile.
My face burns with shame because she’s right.
I fucked up.
Big time.
“What do I do?” I ask finally, feeling emotionally drained.
“For starters, you can reactivate your account and reach out to him,” she explains like it’s no big deal.
“What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if this is all me and reaching out to him makes me look like a clinger?”
“Then at least you’ll know, and maybe I can get all my donuts powdered instead of half a tray,” she snorts, looking at the sugar mess that covers every surface but is somehow missing on the majority of the donuts. “This is the third tray I’m going to have to fix.”
I place the sifter down and take a deep breath.
She doesn’t answer, and when I look up at her, I don’t like the way she’s studying me. It’s like she knows the reason and is waiting for me to recognize I got it, too, but I don’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be in this pickle. Before I can call her out and demand she let me in on it, the phone on the wall rings.
“Saved by the bell,” I say before she looks away with a smirk. Yes, she knows something, all right.
Dee slides off her stool, her belly more prominent now, and hobbles over to the phone, answering it with her coined business phrase. She takes the phone out to the front, speaking to the customer about a delivery.
Good, I think with a sigh. Maybe some fresh air will do me good.
I take off the apron stamped with the bakery logo and hang it up before heading to the restroom to clean up a bit.
10
Will
A smile falls onto my lips as I read the file Cole Securities emailed me this morning.
It’s everything I need to know about her, CaliGirl24.
Or should I say, Elizabeth Marie Bennett, age twenty-five.
The fucking irony of it all.
Her name. My name. It’s like a fucking fairy tale, and I don’t do fairy tales.
Until her.
Fuck.
I wonder what she’ll think when she finds out my real name. Better yet, I wonder how she’ll react when we’re standing face-to-face again.
Which should be soon.
I have a special delivery on the way.
Her.
Elizabeth
My delivery is downtown.
Which, if I’m honest, hasn’t happened before. Especially considering how far from downtown Dee’s bakery is. It’s confusing as fuck, too.
Thankfully, I found a parking structure not too far from the delivery site; the only problem is, it cost me eleven dollars to park there. I hope they at least tip me something for coming all this way.
The street is filled with people, and the tall skyscraper buildings loom over us like giants. I never liked downtown, not even as a kid. It’s like walking into a foreign land, one I have no business visiting.
Checking the delivery slip for the third time since climbing out of my vehicle, I compare the street address to the large building in front of me.
“Finally,” I breathe. It wasn’t a long walk, but in Southern California weather like this, nearly triple digits, it’s like walking in a sauna. Only you can’t escape it.
I walk through the revolving doors of the building and am hit by a blast of cold air.
Thank you, baby Jesus.
I shift the vibrant-pink package in my hands and approach the receptionist desk.
“Hello, how can I help you?” a slender man with a fancy headset greets me. I offer him a smile and slip him my delivery order form.
“I have a delivery for the fourteenth floor.”
He reads it before handing it back to me and pointing toward the right and security.
“You’ll need to go through security, and the elevators are just beyond their station.”
“Thank you.” I shake my head and turn toward security.
The receptionist picks up his phone and says something hurriedly into it before clicking over to one of the ringing lines. “Fitzwilliam Jefferies Financial, how may I direct your call?”
After making my way through security, they call an elevator for me, and I board alone. Despite the groups of people standing around, no one follows behind me. Which is weird because I feel like everyone keeps staring at me, almost like they’ve never seen a delivery girl. Even security was quick to process me and kept giving me curious looks.
The elevator doors close on the lobby, and I ride it all the way to the fourteenth floor. When the doors open, I’m taken aback by the view. With windows from floor to ceiling, all of Los Angeles can be seen from way up here. It stretches for as far as the eye can see.
“Hello, are you here for a delivery?” a voice calls, pulling me away from the view before me and reminding me why I’m here.
“Yes, um, for Fitzwilliam Darcy.” I frown, remembering the name of the building the receptionist downstairs greeted a caller with. I hold out the box, expecting her to take it from me. Anytime I’ve gone into a place of business, I’m not usually allowed past reception. “I’m from Delilah’s Delectable Desserts.”
“Wonderful, you’re just in time.” She ignores the box, stands, and motions me to follow her. “Mr. Darcy is expecting you.”
Every ounce of blood freezes in my veins, and my heart stops. The woman looks back over her shoulder at me and frowns.
“Miss, are you okay?”
I open my mouth to respond, but I’m without words. Did she say what I think she said? Surely, she didn’t. But if she did, it’s simply a coincidence, right? There’s no way the Mr. Darcy she’s referring to is my Mr. Darcy.
It’s impossible.
I think back to every word and fact he gave about himself. It all slowly begins to add up, and my heart leaps into action as each piece falls into place.
How did he describe himself as? A successful money man. I guess having your own building and company inside of it is what you could call success.
The real kicker is his handle. His beautiful fucking handle turns out to be his name after all.
Mr. Darcy and Lizzy.
Lizzy and Mr. Darcy.
I curse my mother for saddling me with the name of her favorite fictional character because she prayed I’d one day meet my Mr. Darcy and live happily ever after.
Finding my voice again, I hold out the box to her. My heart feels like it’s going to burst, but I don’t know if I can see him like this. I’m a freaking delivery girl, for crying out loud.
It’s temporary, my head argues with my heart, but standing here in this building, knowing what I know about him, I’m nowhere near his class of people.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t go in there. I have another delivery, so if you’d be so kind and take this, I’d really appreciate it.”
She steps back, wide eyed, almost like I’ve somehow insulted her. “I can’t. I was given strict instruction to show you into his office.”
“Wait, what?” I blink, the words penetrating my brain.
“Mr. Darcy is expecting you. I’m to escort you to his office,” she explains. “So, if you will please follow me, his office is right through here.”
How can he be expecting me? Maybe it’s not me she means but the delivery itself. Maybe he won’t even recognize me. Maybe seeing him will right this thing inside of me, and I can move on. Maybe it’s not even him.
I look down at my feet as they start to move, like I’m being pulled by some magnetic force. Each step sends a jolt of electricity through me, and as much as I want to believe this isn’t him, I know deep down inside my soul that it is.
The woman stops in front of two large mahogany-colored doors. She knocks before opening one side and all but pushes me in. The door closes softly, and I blink trying to adjust to the dim lighting. This room is nothing like the rest of the building. It’s dark and brooding. Much like the man I know it belongs to. Covered in mahogany-colored wood, it even smells like him.
I walk toward the center of the room and turn, taking everything in. I don’t know how or why, but fate has brought me here for a reason.
And that reason presses against me from behind and wraps his arms around me.
“My Lizzy,” he murmurs into my hair, the same two words I’ve dreamt of hearing night after night, in his voice.
“Darcy,” I whisper back, dropping the box of donuts at my feet and turning around in his arms. He claims my lips, demanding with the flick of his tongue for me to open to him. I do with a moan, his taste exploding on my tongue.
Everything abou
t him and this moment feels like a dream, one I’m expecting to wake up from any moment, only to be let down.
Only it isn’t a dream.
I’m here in his arms, and he’s kissing me.
The hows and whys begin to muddle my brain, and I struggle to make sense of it all.
How is this happening?
11
Will
I feel her tense in my arms as the spell is beginning to wear off, and I find myself wondering when everything is revealed, will the magic disappear?
She pushes at my chest, breaking the kiss. I release her, even when the animal inside of me argues. I finally have her. I’m not going to lose her.
“You planned this?” Her golden eyes pin me in place, and I realize she’s happy to see me, as much as I am to see her.
“Yes,” I admit, cupping her cheek with my hand. “I had to see you again.”
“How?”
“I tried messaging you through the app, but it said your account was no longer active.”
“I closed it the morning after we met. We had an agreement,” she whispers, casting her eyes downward.
“We did, but we made it before I realized the connection we had,” I tell her truthfully. She’s the only person in the world I want to bare it all to, starting with the way I feel about her. “I tried to stay away. I tried to forget you, but you’re pretty unforgettable.”
“Darcy,” she whispers, giving me her eyes again. A shimmer of tears dances in them, tears she struggles to hold back.
“If you don’t feel the same, say the words, Elizabeth, and I will let you walk out of here.” I can see the wheels turning behind her beautiful eyes as she tries to wrap her head around what’s happening. I’ve truly surprised her today. “But if there is the possibility you might feel what I’m feeling, then stay, and we’ll figure it out.”
“Am I dreaming?” she asks as one tear escapes and slides down her cheek.
I shake my head. “No, baby girl, this isn’t a dream.”
“I was talking to my sister about you today, right before the call came in for this delivery order—wait, how did you know I worked there? How did you find me?”