The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 47

FORTY-SEVEN

Lissie

“ T rust Elliot to like a finger up the bum more than us.” Nina rolls her eyes, smiling around her glass.

“Leave him alone,” Lucy pleads, placing her hand on her chest. “The man is not himself in the moment. It’s as if a switch is flicked.”

“They do say the male’s g-spot is in the ass,” Scarlet adds. “Makes sense they have a secret button.”

“Did you ever put a finger up Lance’s?” Lucy cocks her head behind her in explanation.

“No. We don’t all have a day of the week dedicated to our assholes.”

I sit smiling as I listen to them, not realising how desperately I needed to get out of the house and office this week.

I knew quitting at the club would take some getting used to, but I had Charles. After everything that’s unfolded since, I’ve secretly missed the social side of working in the evenings. Especially Christian and Iona—although I still hear from them.

“I don’t have a dedicated day,” Lucy retorts. “That’s this little slut.” She points at Nina.

“What?” I ask, chuckling.

“Anal Tuesdays,” Scarlet tells me. “I’d say that it’s too much information, but I think we’re past that by now.” She smiles sarcastically at her two friends. “Nina once walked in here one Wednesday morning barely able to sit down. She did it sober and with no lube on this random Tuesday night.”

My eyes widen. “No lube?”

“Iconic,” Lucy snorts, cackling.

“We had lubricant of a sort, thank you.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, that’s too far.” Scarlet tuts, Lucy’s laughter turning silent.

“Sorry,” Nina tells me. “Definitely too much information.”

“Maybe a little,” I tell her, my smile wide and aching.

Lucy waves her hand in front of her. “Sorry. That’s just fully got me.”

“You’d think they’d be over it by now,” Nina tells me. “Especially as fully fledged members themselves,” she grits out, smacking Lucy’s arm.

I’d tell them how much Charles enjoys a finger in his ass, but when I say I don’t want to share my man, I mean it.

Lucy calms down enough to speak. “Oh, I’ve not laughed like that in months. I missed you girls when we were away.”

I look between them, finding them all smiling without really knowing it.

Even Scarlet.

“I hate that Megan isn’t here with us. It’s still weird having her gone,” says Nina.

“She’s happy, though,” Scarlet says. “I don’t think we knew just how unhappy she was before she left.”

“No,” Lucy adds. “I don’t think we did.”

“She seems like an incredible person,” I tell them, not really knowing the girl well enough to offer anything else.

“She’s the funniest, sweetest, most selfless human you’ll ever meet. She just wants a good time,” Nina tells me. “She loved meeting you at the wedding.”

“Oh my gosh, I forgot.” I laugh. “Charlie saw that video of you two.”

Nina frowns and then covers her mouth as realisation sets in. “Megs didn’t delete it?”

“No. It was actually a really sweet video.”

“What was it of?” Scar asks.

“It was Megan and Nina talking about Charlie and me at the wedding.” I smile at Nina.

Scarlet’s eyes go wide. “Nothing bad?”

“No.” I chuckle. “It was all really sappy.”

“It was.” Nina smiles, rubbing her belly. “Between us girls, that singular glass of prosecco really went to my head. I had to go outside for some fresh air.”

“What…that wasn’t…” Lucy snorts another laugh. “It was no-secco.”

Nina’s face drops. “What?”

“Alcohol-free, babe.” She rubs her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you actually feel pissed?” Scarlet asks, laughing.

She looks between us. “Not pissed. But I definitely felt something.”

I cringe playfully at her. “Maybe the bubbles.”

“Fuck off.”

We all laugh, and I reach up, rubbing at my head as it starts to ache.

Lucy isn’t sure she’s laughed like this in months, but I’ve never laughed like this in my life. Not with a group of girls in such an open and almost childish way. There’s no judgement. I could say absolutely anything in this moment, and they’d either find a way to relate or simply find a way to make it light and silly. It’s perfect.

I don’t think they even realise it.

“I know that Sundays belong to you Lowells,” I say, looking between Nina and Scarlet. “But would you all like to come over to the cottage on Saturday night? I could make some cocktails—and mocktails.” I look at Nina, watching as her smile grows. “And we could order in some food, or I can cook.”

I hold my hands together in my lap as I wait, my nerves shot now I’ve put it out there.

“Is that even a question?” Lucy replies.

Scarlet smiles across the table at me.

“Sounds perfect, Lissie,” Nina tells me, quickly squeezing my hand under the table. She lets go when I relax my hands. “Scar, tell the girls your plan for the memorial ball this year.”

I head back to the office with the biggest skip in my step, something inside of me, which I never knew existed until recently, feeling topped up.

I push inside of Charles Aldridge with a smile on my face, heading for my office.

“Lissie?”

I stop and step back as Edna walks from her office.

“Hey, Ed.”

She beams at me. “Oh, well, I’ve missed that.”

“Missed what?” I ask.

“That.” She gestures at me. “That beautiful smile.”

I think I might be blushing.

She purses her lips, seeming pleased. “Could you check your diary for me, love. Mine seems to be down, and I’m not sure where Charles will be at three. I could do with letting Thomas Wakefield know.”

I pull out my phone and check the online diary, but it doesn’t load. “Mine’s not working either.”

I quickly send a text to Charlie.

Where are you?

“Let me go check my emails, Ed. It should be on there.”

“Thank you, darling. Let me know.”

I walk to my office and grab my laptop, carrying it to Charlie’s office, wanting to check his paper diary first in the hope he’s still as anal as he once was with it.

I smile at the word as I flick through the pages, my conversation with the girls at the forefront of my mind.

My phone chimes as I land on today’s date.

At The Montwell. Everything okay?

My smile dies on my lips as my eyes follow his handwriting on the page.

St Mary’s Maternity Unit.

I look up and around his office, my heart feeling as if it’s fallen to the base of my gut.

He’s just lied to me.

I close the diary and quickly leave his office, taking my laptop back to my own office. When I open it again, the shared calendar pops up, Charlie’s day filling the screen.

Or a different version of it.

I could cry. Which is silly because this all boils down to an unborn child.

What right do I have?

I swallow, closing the window, my hand shaking slightly on my mouse.

Things have been good between the two of us. He seems a little more relaxed than he was a couple of weeks ago. So why would he feel the need to keep it from me and then lie about hospital appointments?

My phone starts ringing, and I realise I’ve not replied to his message, his name now flashing on the screen. I want to ignore it. I want to tell him what an asshole he is and how much he’s just hurt me.

But I can’t ignore it.

“Hello.”

“Lis,” he says, sighing. “Everything okay? You messaged.”

I pause, not wanting to lie but not wanting to have this conversation over the phone. “I’m not feeling very good. I’m going to go home for the day.”

“You’re ill? I’ll come back now. I can drive you home.” I hear him pull the phone away from his ear, noise filling the silence. “I’ve got to go. Email this or call me later.”

“Sure. Everything okay?” I hear Mason say.

I fist my hand at my mouth, my eyes filling with tears. Shit .

“Lis isn’t feeling well. I’ll see you later.” Seconds pass and then, “Baby?”

“Yeah,” I tell him, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m here still.”

“I’ll be half an hour, tops. Wait for me, okay?”

“Okay,” I manage before hanging up.

I sit back in my chair with my hands covering my face, feeling like a complete idiot. Feeling like the emotion that’s been bubbling up inside of me for the past few weeks, that I’ve tried so hard to push back down, is threatening to drown me.

I’ve got to be stronger than this. I can’t get hurt over an appointment. Maybe there’s a reason he never told me. He definitely didn’t lie to me, though. He really is with Mason. And now he’s leaving his meeting, finishing over an hour earlier than normal because he thinks I’m not okay.

I wish I could call Jovie.

I know exactly what she’d say.

The lecture she’d give me.

I miss my little sister so much.

“Oh, Lissie, what is it?” Edna asks, walking into my office and around my desk.

She wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“Sorry.” I wipe at the stray tear on my cheek. “I’m okay.”

“Says the crying girl.”

I wave my hand. “Lots of emotions going on up in here at the minute, it seems.”

She hums. “Indeed. A mess, really.”

I nod, the ache in my throat burning.

“But not anything that can’t be fixed.” She pulls back and smiles down at me. “The two of you will make it through all of this.”

“I hope so, Ed.”

“You will. You remind me much of myself and Phil. He has two children, neither of whom are mine.” She shrugs. “Well, they’re kind of mine by default now.”

I chuckle, snivelling. “I didn’t know.”

“You do now.”

I think back to the card she gave me when I first came here, and the fact Charlie said it wasn’t his. “You worked at the club, didn’t you?”

She drops back to the sofa, elegantly crossing her legs. “I did. A long time ago now. It’s where we met.”

“You and Phil met at the club?”

She nods. “Yes. He was eight years older than me, married but separated, and we simply fell in love.”

“That’s crazy.”

“It is. It’s how I eventually met Charlie and started working for him. Bronwyn passed on my details one day.”

“How long have you and Phil been married?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, wow, but it wasn’t—isn’t—without its tribulations. We didn’t make it easy. Navigating a relationship outside of that establishment isn’t easy. I had no idea about his wife and children until I’d given everything up for him.”

My eyes widen. “What?”

“I was a little na?ve back then. But I loved him. And I stuck by him.” She shrugs. “I just knew.”

I huff a laugh of disbelief and shake my head. “I remember Bronwyn telling me it had happened before at the club. Like with me and Charlie.”

Edna smiles. “Bronwyn had a front row seat at my wedding. One of my dearest friends to this day.”

“And if it doesn’t blow over? What’s the other side of this?”

“A new pair of shoes.”

I look up at Edna as realisation sinks in.

“You’re going to figure this all out. I promise,” she tells me.

It’s with that very hope clinched in my hands that I shut down my computer and go home with Charlie.

Charlie

There’s been some very specific moments over the past five or so years where I’ve watched my friends do life and have had to stop to recognise the contentment they’ve brought me. The birth of the kids, the weddings, the day Lance asked me if he thought the ring he’d bought for Scar was as over the top as he did whilst wearing the biggest fucking smile.

I chuckle at the memory, and Lissie tilts her head back. “What?”

We’re on the back porch in the hammock, the rain drizzling. I smooth my hand up her back. “I was just thinking about Lance.”

“Oh, I thought that was a little bit of happiness slipping free.”

“It was.”

Her lips twist.

“I was thinking about how content I am right now.” I narrow my eyes on her. “My friends come with baggage. Some left behind and some they still carry, but I think that’s why watching them find their happy has always been so satisfying.”

Lissie rubs at my side, over my ribs, just listening.

“I think it’s why this here with you now feels the way it does. Because even if things aren’t always perfect, this can be. You and me.”

She is my own contentment.

It’s not borrowed or observed—no matter how happy it makes me to witness it for my friends—it’s felt. It’s mine, and mine only.

I feel the need to thank her for it. To let her know how grateful I am that she wants to be a part of my life.

I kiss her hair. “Has your headache gone?”

She sits up a little, her hair a mess.

I smile, just watching her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I tell her, leaning in and demanding her lips.

She pulls away after a moment, her face full of guilt. “I had a headache earlier—I still have a headache now. But that wasn’t the complete truth.”

I frown.

“Edna’s diary wasn’t working—nor mine.” She shakes her head as if muddling through her thoughts. “Long story short, I checked your diary in your office and saw the appointment at the hospital at two p.m. When you texted to say you were with Mason, I thought you were lying to me.”

My heart sinks.

“Which you weren’t, obviously, and I’m sorry for…well, for not trusting you in that moment, I guess.”

“I had a phone call with the hospital,” I explain. “I wanted to make sure it was suitable with everything…”

She gives me a small smile and nods. “And I love you for that. For the way you care so much.”

I search her face, my heart thumping. “I upset you.”

“I upset myself.” She swallows, contemplating something. “I think I feel a little like you don’t want to tell me things that relate to Emily and the pregnancy. Which isn’t information I’m entitled to, but just knowing when you’re meeting with her or even just talking to me when you’re going through things would help. I want to be here for you, Charlie.”

I upset her.

I thought talking about the hospital could potentially hurt her—I’m still certain that it would have—and yet this has too. It’s a lose-lose situation.

“Charles,” she whispers.

My gaze transfixes on her.

“I’m tired and emotional. I miss Jovie more than ever, and I overreacted. It’s okay.”

I lock my jaw, knowing she’s hurting. Knowing she’s still hiding it from me.

I’ve never had a Lissie. Never had this feeling. This contentment. And it’s threatened. I can feel it being strangled by everything that’s transpiring around us.

My insides heat to a point I go cold, my heart racing. I search her face, the panic clawing at my throat threatening to strangle me .

I cannot lose this woman.

It’s inconceivable.

She thinks I’m this good, caring man, but I’m not. I’m selfish. Because right now, I’d give anything for all of this to go away. I don’t want to be a dad, I want to be the love of Lissie’s life. I want to wake up every day, until my heart grows too tired to recognise hers, and see her face. Just her and me and the dogs, here in this house we’ve built.

If I’m the dad to this baby, I’ll be devastated.

I blink, looking off to the decking, hating myself for finally acknowledging the fact. Hating myself for the man it makes me.

“Charles,” she says, her tone confused. “Have I said something? I’m sorry if I’m being too much by asking to know these things, I just?—”

My eyes snap back to her. “You’re not too much.” I frown. “God, Lissie, you’ll never be too much.”

I hate the people in her life that made her believe she could be.

Because she can’t.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I swallow the remnants of the lie, knowing I don’t really mean it.

“If you’re comfortable, I want to share this with you. To be in this with you and here for you when you need me. Just please don’t keep me in the dark about things.”

I nod, not managing the words.

Still not wanting to mix the two despite what she says.

Her, and the one thing that could take her from me, a baby.

“I feel like I need wine in the bath and my boyfriend.”

I let out a sigh, the weight on my chest easing. A little. “Sounds perfect, Lis.”