Last Chance Seduction

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It would truly make a better day for all involved if Mr. Darcy would stop glaring at me. That attitude of his was nothing new, but for once, it would be nice if he’d blink at some point.

I stared down at my all-black cat, and knew if I blinked first, it would be all over. I would have to get up from my desk, walk to the back door, and let my lovely cat out on the catio. Not that catio was an actual word, but I went with it anyway. Because my beautiful, darling, adorable son, Mr. Darcy, needed to be outside, but I wasn’t about to let him roam through the neighborhood to either get hit by a car, eaten by an animal, or adopted by another family. Hence the catio was where he was usually allowed to be. My beautiful porch was now screened in and an oasis for me considering the mosquitoes during certain times of the year.

“Mr. Darcy, I have to get back to work. I can’t be outside with you. And the last time I left you alone on the catio for too long, you learned how to unlock the door.”

Mr. Darcy finally blinked, but didn’t stop staring at me as he lifted one paw and licked it. Then he proceeded to bathe, leaning back so he could lift his back leg and show me exactly how annoyed he was with me.

“Really? That’s how you’re going to play it? We both know I’m not that flexible, and seriously, gross.”

I shuddered as he continued to clean himself and went back to my paperwork.

I needed to get in the booth soon, as I had a deadline coming up. And other than speaking with my cat, I hadn’t used my voice for most of the day. Vocal rest was important in my line of work. I opened my notebook and highlighted a few starred items that would be needed later.

“This shouldn’t take long,” I muttered to myself, keeping my voice calm.

I only had to record a short story today, and with the amount of effort I had put into the prep work, I should be able to have it down as long as my mouth didn’t get tongue-tied on a few words that I usually messed up. And they were never difficult words. My mind just decided to be a little silly when it came to reading a book out loud.

I grinned, thinking how I’d had the same issues when I had been a drama student back in college—a theater kid at heart. I always tangled myself up over the easiest things, focusing on making sure I was perfect on the most difficult words and themes.

I was sure there was probably some psychological explanation to that, something I didn’t want to get into too deeply. After all, I read books for a living, as well as a few other voice acting skills. I didn’t need to dive deeper than that.

Mr. Darcy immediately jumped on my desk, startling me.

“Are you serious right now?” I asked the cat as he delicately pawed his way over my desk, knocking my pen to the ground and proceeding to lay on his side half over my notebook, his other paw dangerously close to my hot tea.

“Oh don’t you dare,” I warned, narrowing my gaze at him.

I wasn’t quite sure when I had become the woman who merely spoke to cats for a living. But here I was, alone in a home that I had bought with my own money, as well as the bank’s, and spoke to cats more than I spoke to people.

Yes, one of my good friends came over occasionally, but she was also a voice actor, and both of us in the same house doing the same work wasn’t physically possible. Not when I needed to get in my booth and start working.

“Okay Mr. Darcy, I’m going to have to set you on the ground. You know I hate doing that, as you deserve everything in the world, but come on.”

He leaned forward, moving his paw to press something on my keyboard.

The computer made a sound, and I looked up at the screen, hoping he didn’t email my client something or somehow send money to his own special bank account off in the Cayman Islands.

I snorted, wondering exactly when I had lost my mind, thinking that my cat had somehow siphoned money off from me.

“You need to get more sleep.” I glared through the side window, knowing the source of my irritation wasn’t exactly my cat, or my new working schedule.

No, it was them.

And as if they knew I was talking about them, the sounds of hammering echoed through my home.

My beautiful, peaceful, quiet home.

Or rather, formerly quiet.

Workers spoke and shouted to one another, laughing with one another, as they continued to do their jobs. I didn’t want to hate them for doing their jobs, after all, they seemed to know what they were doing and were efficient about it. But why on earth was my new neighbor deciding to expand his beautiful home already?

Of course, it wasn’t as if I had met the new neighbor. No, the elderly couple who had lived in that home for most of their lives, had moved out to be closer to their children, and the new person had found their way in. I hadn’t lived here long, but long enough for me to feel as though I’d finally found my home. But I hadn’t met this new person.

And whoever this person or family was, decided to make my life a living hell.

Because even though the booth that I had spent far too much money on was soundproof, it didn’t block as many sounds as one would like.

Namely the sounds of a jackhammer breaking through whatever stone happened to be in the ground back there. Part of me had wanted to research that stone, to figure out what could possibly be making that terrible racket, but I had work to do.

Work I now had to do in the evenings and nights, because I couldn’t very well narrate a book with construction going on.

This was not what I signed up for when I had bought this home. And whoever had moved in next door was going to rue the day they had ever decided to build onto their home and restore it without asking any of the neighbors.

Jason and Nancy on the other side of me were also perturbed because they had two-year-old twin girls who still needed their nap time, and of course the construction went on. However, apparently, they had spoken with the neighbor when I had been out of town and had known ahead of time that the construction was happening.

I grumbled to myself, because it seemed whoever this new neighbor was, had spoken to nearly everybody on our cul-de-sac, giving them a baked good, as well as a thank-you-for-welcoming-me-to-the-neighborhood present, to explain there would be construction.

I attended a conference and had missed out on meeting the new guy. And I wasn’t grumpy at all that I didn’t get a baked good or welcome gift. No, instead I got the sound of hammers hammering themselves on my brain and making my job twice as hard.

Mr. Darcy rolled onto his stomach, then stood up before stretching to his heart’s content, yawning as he did so.

“Ooh, good stretch,” I said and rolled my eyes.

Why did I say that every time my cat stretched? And I knew I wasn’t the only one who did it. It was like a reflex at this point.

My phone chirped beside me, and I smiled down at the readout, grateful for the distraction. Because there was no way I was going to get actual voice work done until they were done hammering whatever the hell they were hammering today.

“Hello Posy,” I answered.

“I was going to ask how you were doing, but I can hear the hammering from here,” my closest friend said with a laugh.

I paused at that thought, wondering if Posy was my closest friend. Maybe she was my closest friend locally, I had a huge group of friends online, because I hadn’t lived in Colorado for the past couple of years. I put my hand over my heart, rubbing at the sharp pain there, thinking of why I had moved away. But no, I wasn’t going to think too hard about that. I was better now. Breathing, finding my happiness.

And I was building a local community. With my neighbors who weren’t annoying the hell out of me, and with people like Posy, who made me smile.

“It’s never ending.”

“Have you met your neighbor then? I mean, has he even explained what he’s doing? The houses aren’t that old. What could he be adding?”

“I have no idea. He hasn’t said a darn thing to me. Which is very annoying. So I have no clue what he’s doing over there. But it’s not like I have a choice in the matter. He didn’t have to tell anyone or ask.”

“I’d say you can come over here and work, but I’m on as many deadlines as you. I shouldn’t be upset that we have work, but it is a little overwhelming.”

“I am grateful for the jobs, but you’re right. I’m just having to become an owl now.”

“I’m sure there’s a ‘whoo’ joke in there, but I’m tired after finishing that fantasy novel.”

“How many words did you have to ask the author to pronounce for you?”

“I’m not even going to count at this point.”

We both laughed, and I shook my head, petting Mr. Darcy as he found his way onto my lap.

“Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you. Because I have to go back into the booth.”

I leaned into my chair, comfortable for the first time in a long while. “Thank you, I’ll get back into the booth once the hammering ends.”

As soon as I spoke the words into existence, the sound of a saw whirling echoed through my home, and I groaned. “And apparently saws.”

“You know, if you go over there, maybe you could ask the contractor or owner what’s going on. I know that they have a job to do, but you never know, you could find a window during the day to work.”

“We all know that construction crews never work on time.”

“Maybe this one does. I know that the one Cullen works for is usually decently on time.”

“So how are things with you and Cullen?” I asked, teasing.

“We’re having dinner tomorrow.”

“And is dinner all you’re having or are you just calling yourself dinner at this point?” I asked dryly.

“What do you mean?” Posy asked, truly not understanding the innuendo. I swore the two were already dating, though I knew Posy and Cullen didn’t believe so so I didn’t even bother answering the question. Posy was more of a hermit than I was and rarely left the house. If she did, it was sometimes with me, but more often than not, it was with Cullen. But if the two wanted to remain friends, and be each other’s safety, I wasn’t going to complain or say anything about it.

“I should at least get some work done, even if it’s not voice work. And rest.”

“Okay then. Maybe we can do coffee at Lattes on the Rock in a couple of days?”

“That sounds perfect.”

We hung up, and I once again ran my hand over my chest. Because Lattes on the Rocks happened to be in the same building as Montgomery Ink Legacy. And from what I could tell, Montgomery Security, and the gallery owned by the Montgomerys. One huge family, so many opportunities to see the people I hadn’t kept in contact with in the past two years.

It wasn’t that I was hiding from my former close friend, it was that seeing him reminded me of the day that changed everything.

When being left at the altar wasn’t even the worst thing that could happen in those few moments.

I shook off that melancholy note and pulled away from the desk.

Mr. Darcy immediately jumped off my lap and proceeded to prance over to the back door. He looked over my shoulder as if ready to roll his eyes, exasperated with me.

“Fine. You win. I’ll garden and pull out whatever weeds have decided to annoy me today.”

Even though it was winter in Colorado, with Christmas and New Year’s and every other holiday squeezed into a three-week period coming up, there were still a few plants I needed to deal with. Ones that hadn’t gone dormant. They would soon, but if I didn’t take care of the plant bed now, it would be terrible by the time spring came around. I pulled on my jacket, slid my feet into my old worn gardening shoes, and opened the back door. Darcy jumped onto the catio, sniffing around for any new scents, before jumping onto the outdoor couch I had out there, and proceeded to make biscuits as if it was his only thing in the world.

“You go there, Mr. Darcy. I’m proud of you.”

I opened the back door and quickly shut it behind me before Mr. Darcy could escape and went to the side garden. It was closest to the back gate that opened to the field beyond the cul-de-sac. I kept a lock on it usually but had unlocked it the day before to bring a few things in the back way. I scowled, reminding myself to lock it again. Most of the homes around us had the same walks, that way we didn’t have to go all the way around the cul-de-sac in order to reach the walking paths that were through the treed area. I lifted my face up to the sky, knowing that the clouds would probably go away soon. It was a little misty, and I was grateful for it. Colorado was so dry, that no amount of lotion could help my skin some days. But the mist was desperately needed. It wasn’t biting cold, just chilly enough that I had my fall coat on in December, rather than my winter coat. I knew that when my friends down south came to visit they would probably be in a full parka at this point, but you got used to the altitude and cold eventually.

I had been in New York for the past two years, so getting used to zero humidity, higher altitude, and less oxygen had taken me a couple of months. But now I’d been home for a little while, and in that time, I had already gotten a new neighbor.

One who proceeded to annoy the heck out of me with all of that sound. I put on my noise-canceling headphones, turned on an audiobook, one actually read by a friend, and proceeded to whack away at the weeds.

I was not a good gardener, but I read books, and I did my best. Sometimes my best wasn’t going to be enough, but I could try.

Emily was always better at gardening. She knew the Latin and English names for nearly every plant we came in contact with. And if she didn’t know, she would by the end of the day.

I wiped a tear away from my face with the back of my hand, knowing that this was a part of grief.

There might be five stages, but you didn’t go in any order. You followed your way through the path, and it circled back numerous times. And, because of the human condition you could go through multiple stages simultaneously.

It was a wonderful experiment, this life of mine. But Emily wouldn’t want me to linger in any stage for too long. So I was doing this for her.

Whatever this was.

Mr. Darcy came towards me, face pressed to the screen, and I smiled up at him, before going back to my audiobook and gardening. I rolled my shoulders back, about twenty minutes into my foray into this new non-talent of mine, when I turned off my audiobook and decided to just let the headache have its due course, considering all I could hear was the damn hammering.

I looked up, and Mr. Darcy wasn’t in front of me anymore, instead he was closer to the corner of the catio, back arched, hissing.

I froze, wondering what he could see, and swallowed hard as something began to slither towards me.

Emily would know exactly what kind of snake this was, but I knew the pattern on that body, and it should not be awake in December. No, they should be hibernating, far away.

But as it slithered towards me, moving a little drowsily, I didn’t think, I did the one thing that I swore I would never do. I screamed.

I staggered back, as Mr. Darcy hissed, slashing at the screen.

“No, no, get away.” I didn’t know if I was talking to Mr. Darcy or the snake, but the shaking in my voice didn’t invoke much confidence.

I didn’t have a weapon, and it was just a snake moving towards me, but it could strike at any moment. And I didn’t know if it could strike my cat somehow through the holes of the screen.

My earbud fell out, and I reached for my tiny shovel, knowing it wasn’t going to be enough. Because I finally remembered what Emily had taught me. The rings on the length of the snake made sense now.

Not just a snake.

But a venomous snake.

“Are you okay?” a deep voice asked as footsteps on grass and gravel sounded towards me from my backyard. I didn’t turn to look who it was, but instead, tried to stand up, and tried not to make it too sudden. The snake came forward again, jerking slightly, and another shout escaped my lips.

“Holy crap, we’ve got this,” a deep voice ordered as a man in jeans and a layered flannel came forward, shovel in hand, and did what I couldn’t do.

I shuddered, shame sliding over me, realizing I had just screamed, not only probably hurting my voice, but doing something that I didn’t want to do. Because I didn’t need help. I could do everything on my own. Why did I react like I had? It was weak. So damn weak.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

I looked up at that voice, that familiar voice, and froze.

Lexington Wilder-Montgomery blinked down at me, those dark blue eyes vivid against his pale skin. His beard was thicker than I had seen it before, covering that strong jawline, but I knew those eyes, that face.

My former fiancé’s best friend, and the man who had held Emily as she had nearly died the first time.

“Mercy?” Lexington gasped, as he leaned forward and picked me up by my elbows as if he had done it a thousand times.

When it had only been a few.

“Are you okay? I didn’t know you were here. Holy hell.”

And then he crushed me to his chest, and I stood there, frozen, hating that I had needed help.

And hating that it had come in the shape of this man.

One of the only people I had never wanted to see again. And not for his actions, but for my own.