Chapter 23 Dexter My knuckles ache like hell .
Its a good ache , born from exertion , sweat , and the deafening impact of the punching bag .
After the day Ive had , its the type of hurt I need .
A way to forget about the check , the deal , and playing dirty .
Most folks see pain as something to cope with and minimize .
I decided early on I wouldnt do that .
I chose to use it as a coping mechanism instead .
What choice do I have ? About as much as I did the minute I walked into that bakery and realized Juniper Winkleys iconic grandmother was standing there .
Yes , Ive done my homework .
Ive dredged up the articles about the amazing Jo Winkley , how she took an unremarkable bakery and turned it into a temple of all things cavity inducing .
Its an impressive story .
Im not such a stone hearted bastard that Im immune to admiring her rave success , especially at a time when women entrepreneurs had every obstacle stacked against them .
If the sugar addicts in this city still worship the elder Winkley , then that goes a hundredfold for her own granddaughter , whos clearly trying to fill grandmas very big shoes .
Juniper Winkley wont forgive me easily for the shit I pulled , thats for sure .
If she hadnt played so damn hard to get , maybe Id regret it .
I circle the punching bag , my chest heaving and sweat pouring down the back of my neck in rivulets .
Ive had the same bag since I came back to Kansas City .
Its showing its age , along with about a million impacts .
-The frosty light in my gym highlights the scarred material , the way its suffered over the years for my sanity .
So maybe I have a soft spot for this old thing .
Mainly because when I punch it , it hits right back.
The pain snaps up my arms as I keep going with bone jarring force , pushing my body to the limit , straining until my muscles scream .
Again .
Harder .
Fucking faster .
My arms are numb mush when the intercom buzzes and I stagger back to catch my breath .
Stopping to wipe my face with a towel , I glare at the screen .
Who the fuck could that be ? Its past nine .
Patton and Archer always call or text to say theyre dropping by first .
No one else typically comes except my cleaner , and thats never at night .
Im used to my solitude and I like it that way .
But the damn thing buzzes again and I swear loudly as I cross the room to answer it .
Yeah ? Who is it ? Can you open your gate ? a womans voice says , oddly cheerful .
What for ? I frown , suspicious as hell .
By now , everyones heard about the scams where some schemer comes to the door asking for help .
They always show up with three beastly guys on standby , ready to split your skull open and steal everything youve got the minute theyre through the door .
Delivery for Mr.
Dexter Rory , she says .
Does it sound a little like shes trying not to laugh or is it just my imagination ? Im sorry its so late .
I have paperwork from a Mr.
Hautes office .
High priority .

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16:43 Love Betrayed : A Journey of Separate Path 25.3 % Chapter 23 Shit , shit .
I shouldve known Forrest Haute would find a few more ways to be a massive pain in the ass .
Ill be right up , I mutter .
Groaning , I punch the button to remotely open the gate as I climb the stairs to the ground floor .
Paperwork .
At this damn hour .
The man should really tell his people that some things can wait for morning , no matter how urgent .
Im practically snarling as I see a small figure standing behind the front door , the privacy glass currently set to frosted .
If this is from Mr.
Haute personally , I start as I throw the door open , you should tell him he can wait until- I freeze .
This isnt one of Hautes lackeys , not unless Ive tripped into a parallel universe .
Its her .
All cinnamon red hair and evil green eyes and slightly flushed cheeks .
She tilts her head and looks me up and down , assessing my every movement .
Slowly .
Like she has all the time in the world .
Goddammit .
And here I am , sweating like a horse and dressed like a gym rat .
Expecting someone else ? she asks as she steps past me into the foyer , without an invitation .
Sorry to intrude but not really .
I just thought I should check out our home , sugar .
A breeze blows in with her like Satan himself laughing .
I slam the door with enough force to rattle the house .
What the hell are you doing here , Miss Winkley ? Oh ? She quirks an eyebrow at me .
You mean you dont like unexpected visits ? Thats a shame .
Teeth , meet tongue .
-Shes got me there .
I want to rip into her , machine gun reasons why this is inappropriate , rude , and just fucking weird .
Only , its not when Im the asshole who went there first .
I targeted her family as a means to an end .
Im sure youre upset about earlier , and for good reason .
To be fair , I never invaded your home and private space .
I wouldnt dare , I say gruffly .
The Sugar Bowl is public and open to anyone .
Not when its closed , she snaps , turning those green eyes on me like jade knives .
She walks around , checking out the dark Madagascar flooring , the open plan kitchen housing high end smart appliances , the large Japandi style lounge with the mounted TV on the wall , and a fireplace set in immaculately handcrafted woodwork .
Jeez , dude .
Can you save some real estate for the rest of us ? My lip curls .
Miss Winkley , Im warning you .
I dont need this tonight .
Oh , yeah ? Thats a shame .
Her voice is hard .
I kinda know the feeling .
Its such a drag when youre ambushed after a long day , isnt it ? Damn her to hell and back .
When I decided to be an idiot , I knew shed be pissed , but coming to my house is some next level fuckery .
I left you a number .
Call it , I growl , following her through the kitchen as she walks through my place like its an art gallery .
My plates still there from dinner , half a large enchilada sitting on the counter , waiting to go in the fridge .
Oh , but darling , I thought we were engaged ? Isnt it all the rage now to play house the minute theres a ring involved ? She sends me a long look over her shoulder , eyes hooded .
Besides , fairs fair .
16:43 Love Betrayed : A Journey of Separate 25.7 % Chapter 23 Fine , I snarl , leaning on the kitchen island .
Fucking fine , you win .
You want to come here and see where I live ? Have at it , sweetheart .
Help yourself to a drink and stay a while .
Her mouth hardens like shes sucking citrus .
For the faintest second , my mind goes other places , wondering what she could really do with those lips .
But she just strides toward the stairs .
Wheres the basement ? Id better make sure there arent any dead bodies down there , and you can bet Ill be rummaging through all your closets God , I bet theyre enormous just to check for skeletons .
I know you dont trust me- She pins me down with another glare .
Dont trust you ? After all this , you expect me to just settle and take your word for anything ? She finds the stairs leading down and flicks on the light .
Theres so much repressed anger in her movements Im surprised she doesnt combust into a pile of ash .
Nothing but a couple guest rooms , a reading area , and my home gym , I explain .
If youve never seen a gym before , knock yourself out .
Her eyes flash hellfire .
Shit , I didnt mean it like that .
I open my mouth to apologize , but she shoots first .
Mr.
Rory , lets get one thing straight .
Youve already insulted my intelligence .
Thats bad enough , but I can deal .
She strides forward , her teeth tucked into a sharp smile .
But listen , if you think Ill just stand here while you insult anything else- I didnt mean it like you think , Winkley .
Theres nothing wrong with your looks nothing at all .
I slipped .
Uh huh , she says tightly .
You do that a lot , dont you ? You could try some speech therapy .
Woman , I told you I fucked up .
I dont need this shit .
And I do not need any sarcasm from you , Big Fish .
Im fucking speechless .
Again .
How is she so good at turning my tongue into a useless sponge ? Can we get on with this interruption ? I fold my arms , matching her gaze with mine .
She glances down my chest again , at the worst of the sweat , then looks at the equipment .
You were working out ? When you showed up ? Yeah .
Evening routine .
Im not surprised .
She wrinkles her nose as I follow her downstairs .
It doesnt take her long to find the exercise room .
This whole place smells like money and ew , man sweat .
I didnt invite you down here .
Or to my house at all .
If you have a problem with the smell , leave .
Actually , no .
I have a problem with you .
She shoves the note I sent her and the check straight into my chest .
The shock of it makes me stumble back a step .
How dare you , she mutters .
Oh , fuck .
My eyebrows go up .
Now youre pissed when I offer you money ? Yes , No.
Maybe .
Ugh ! You know what , screw this .
She runs both hands through her hair and storms back upstairs .
If she needs space , I get it .
Theres something almost fragile about her now .
Like this experience simultaneously fired her up and knocked the wind from her lungs .
When I follow a minute later , I find her waiting in the hall , slack against the wall like this leggy sagging doll .
Miss Winkley ? Are you okay ? Not at all .
She lets out a pained laugh .
God , you just dont get it , do you ? Im pissed because you gave me something you know I cant refuse .
26.1 % Chapter 24 Chapter 24