“Thanks.” I snap them up like they’re Halloween candy. “I didn’t know you were packing.”
“Yeah, well, you never know when you’re going to shoot a few off. Baya keeps me on my toes. You should get one of those industrial sized boxes,” he teases. “The way you and Sawyer used to look at each other, you’re going to need it.”
“Duly noted, and we will most definitely need it.”
Bryson nods into me. His expression grows somber, and I think I know where this is headed.
“So are things going to be different this time around?” The smile slips right off his face. He’s gone from a dick-sock wielding buddy to Laney’s over protective big bro in one easy bound.
“I’d never hurt her.”
“I never said you would. How about your family? You think anyone might try to put her heart in the blender and serve it up with some mint leaves on the side?”
I nod, completely transfixed on some invisible horizon behind him.
“I’ll talk to my mother. But I don’t think I should wait for the first sign of bullshit to protect Laney. I’m afraid I need to cut my mom out of my life for a while. Maybe for good.” I shake my head at the idea. “I hate it. But last time she went too far, and Laney left me. I can’t go through that again, not for twelve seconds let alone twelve months.”
“Let her know how you feel. Make sure she realizes how serious you are. I know your mom, Ryder. She’s going to change her tune about Laney if it means losing you.”
I blow out a breath and thread my hands behind my neck. “You’re right. She means well, but she’s toxic as hell when it comes to my love life. I think I’ll stop by her office and have a little talk.”
“You need some moral support?”
“Nope.” I hold up the twin foil packets. “You did your good deed for today.”
“Rock on, man.” He leans over and throws a knuckle bump my way. “Guard Laney’s heart. She’s a sweet girl. She deserves to be happy, and so do you.”
“Will do, and thank you. It’s nice to see you smiling these days, too.”
“I’m just glad Baya’s safe. Any news about the trial?”
“None that I know of.” My cousin Aubree was arrested last month for trying to kill Baya, and, apparently, there’s strong evidence that suggests she did kill Stephanie Jones, a girl we grew up with. Bryson and Steph were together for a while, right up until she died. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to go through something like that. And I never want to find out. I’d never say it to Bryson, but losing Laney for a year was enough to do me in. I still don’t know how he catches his breath in the morning. I’m glad he found Baya to quell the pain.
“Let me know how things work out with your mom.” He gets up and heads out the door. “We should take the girls out to dinner sometime. I think Baya and Laney would like that.”
“I’d like that, too.”
He takes off, and I shake my head with a goofy grin plastered to my face. I’ve gone from isolating myself at home to double dating—from romancing Rosie Palm to sleeping with Laney Sawyer.
I pinch the glorified love gloves between my fingers.
Soon Laney and I will commence our relationship in the best way possible, and, if last night was any indication of how incredible things are going to be, I’m betting I’ll need two industrial-sized boxes to make it through this week alone.
Laney and I are together again, and nothing or nobody can tear us apart.
That night I attended the show that the drama department put on and sat front and center. My mother had called earlier and invited me to dinner, but I took a rain check. She asked where I was off to so I told her. She responded with one word. Wow. I got the feeling it wasn’t a good wow, so I didn’t push it. I’m assuming it was more of a wow we’re revisiting bad habits. She actually called Laney a bad habit to my face, last year, a few weeks before it all went down, and I let it slide because she’s my mother.
I shake my head at the thought as I make my way to her office under a gloomy afternoon sky.
Laney and I ended up hanging out at her dorm after the show, and I spent the night holding her. One of Laney’s roommates was home, so we decided to hold off in the pleasure department until tonight. But in a few hours, after her show, she’ll be all mine. She says she’ll pack a bag and spend winter break at the penthouse with me, and I cannot fucking wait. I’ll gladly shuttle her to Whitney Briggs as needed. I’d shuttle her to Alaska and back if she wanted me to.
But right now I’m taking on the task of speaking with my mother. Her office is just across the street from Capwell Industries, so I head over and ride the elevator up, rehearsing what I’m going to say like some douchebag. I know she’s going to be hurt. That she’s going to feel threatened. I’m her only son, and she doesn’t want to lose me. She’s said, time and time again, that she only wants the best for me. Why in the hell can’t she see that Laney is the best?
I step out onto her floor and make my way over to the Capwell Philanthropic offices, fully excepting to see Meg seated behind the big mahogany desk as I walk in but thankfully don’t. She’s abandoned her post for the moment. Probably drowning her sorrows now that she knows Laney and I are back together. Maybe she’ll finally call off her stalker-like tendencies. I’d laugh it off, but she was close with Aubree, and come to find out, stalker-like tendencies were her specialty.
I walk over in the direction of my mother’s office, and the sound of polite female laughter lights up the hall. Great. I’m sure my mother will invite Meg to sit in on our private conversation, no matter how hard I try to get rid of her. I catch the reflection of my mother’s office from the mirrored hall and pause when I see them—Roxy, Baya and Laney, all three with bright red Santa hats on.
Holy shit. They beat me to it.
Laney didn’t mention a meet and greet with my mother last night, and Roxy hasn’t said anything. Maybe this doesn’t have anything to do with me?
“Little Laney,” Mom coos, talking down to the woman I love. It makes me sick to my stomach just hearing it. “If I’ve ever made you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable I do apologize. And I have nothing but the upmost respect for your mother, raising two daughters on her own after her husband so rudely walked out on her.”
Rudely?
Shit.
Mom wags a finger. “I’m telling you, I should never have stayed true to my grandmother’s century old eggnog recipe last year. It called for just a splash of rum, but I’m pretty sure I dumped in half the bottle. I swear I have no recollection of any of these things you’ve accused me of. It must have been the alcohol talking. Let me make this up to you. I’m having a dinner party tonight. I’d like to invite you all.” She extends her hands to the three of them. “Bring dates, bring friends. I think this will be a great way to start things off in the right direction.”
Roxy stands and lunges at Mom with a hug. The love fest begins, so I back the hell down the hall and out the building before they can spot me. It looks like I may not have to cut my mother out of my life after all.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Laney. It’s so nice to see her name light up my screen after one long year. Water finally comes to the desert.
Where are you?
Just getting ready to step back into my office. No lie, just stepped into the elevator.
I have a couple hours before the show. You mind if I stop by?
Come as quick as you can.
And with any luck she’ll do just that.
5
With Bells On
Laney
The Capwell Industries building stands erect as a cosmopolitan symbol among the far more meager structures in the downtown district. The long, mirrored architecture curves at the top, giving it a phallic appeal as it spears into the sky. I soak it all in before stepping across the street to visit Ryder for the afternoon. It’s as if with every step I take the relationship we’re renewing becomes that much more official. It’s strange to practically have Ru
e’s blessing. I’m not sure I’m buying that “alcohol talking” excuse, but if that’s the copout she’s willing to use, I’m fine with it so long as it doesn’t happen again.
“Wait for me!” Baya latches onto my arm. We’re still wearing our matching Santa hats with bells attached to the giant fur ball, so we’ve quite literally jingled all the way here. Baya turns to Roxy. “Why don’t you head back to campus? I’ll catch a ride with Bryson.”
“Will do.” Roxy tugs at my sweater, splicing my attention for a moment. “So, what do you think? It sounds like she was genuine.”
Rue’s face flashes before my eyes. Somehow Rue and genuine don’t seem to go hand in hand.
“Yeah—oh yeah.” I think genuine is stretching it a little too far, but I’m not going there. “For sure she extended the olive branch, and I really appreciate it.”
“So you’ll be there tonight?” Roxy dips her knees when she says it as if she’s pleading.
“Of course, I’m going to be there tonight—right after the show. It’s the final performance before Christmas, and I’ll even ditch the after-party just to make the effort. I really want things to go smoothly with your brother and me. I think this is a great start. And, I want your mom to like me.” I blink back unexpected tears. “To be honest, up until today that wasn’t all that important to me, but I really feel like you and Ryder are my family, and I’d like for your mother and me to feel the same one day, too.”
“You will.” She collapses her arms around me. “See you guys tonight!” She skips off to the parking lot, content in her delusions. Maybe I’m the one lost in my delusions? And negative ones at that. I should try harder, and if Rue is willing to meet me halfway, I’d better make the effort, too. But I can’t shake this feeling she was just putting on an act because Roxy was there.
“What do you think?” I ask Baya as we cross the street.
“I don’t know.” She shakes out her long, dark tresses. “I think she said all the right words—smiled when it was required of her. She even threw in a joke at the expense of Whitney Briggs’s rival.” She shrugs as we walk into the polished building.
A two-story waterfall sits in the center of the foyer, and it takes my breath away for a moment. I forgot how beautiful this place is—how beautiful a lot of things are.
Baya scoots in close. “I say show up tonight and hope for the best.” We step into the elevator and it entombs us with its quiet hush. “But just between you, me, and these four walls, I’d watch my back, Laney. Isn’t she Aubree’s blood relation? I doubt the apple falls far from the tree.”
“Funny, she used that exact same analogy about me and my mother last year.” I leave out the detail of my mother marrying for money when I was younger. About how her husband went into a coma and she was out spending his hard-earned cash when they finally pulled the plug. Word got around the hospital that she turned down the staff’s offer to be there during those final moments when he left this planet. She opted to try on shoes and told the hospital to call her when he was done—like he was a fucking turkey. I still get pretty steamed over the fact my mother was a bona fide gold digger but having my dad walk out on her put her in a tailspin. Anyway—Baya and I step out into the advertising department, and I drop her off at Bryson’s cubicle while I make my way over to Ryder’s office.
The entire area has a black and white motif with mirrors strategically placed to make the space look even more expansive. My heart hammers in my chest as I take it all in. A cold sweat breaks out over me all at once. It’s ridiculous for me to feel this way. I used to work right here in this building, on this floor. These are my old stomping grounds.
I glance over at the black lacquered desk I used to call my own. I was Ryder’s personal secretary once upon a time. But after things ended badly I never came back. Lucky for me, Bryson let me work at the Black Bear, and the rest is waitressing history. I wonder if I’d want my old job back if Ryder made the offer? I remember each and every one of those stolen moments we shared in his office. God knows I’ve played them on a loop while snuggling up with my, “mini Ryder” after the split.
I give a gentle knock to his office door.
Hopefully we’ll create a brand new memory this afternoon, and lucky for me because the real deal doesn’t require a single AA battery.
“Come in.” The baritone of his voice vibrates through the wood.
I step inside and close the door behind me, quiet as a whisper.
A breath gets caught in my throat at the sight of him as he rises from his desk. He’s gorgeous as all hell in his sharp navy suit, his gold tie with crimson threads that pick up the light. His thick ebony hair is slicked back like the feathers of a raven. Those royal blue eyes light up the otherwise monochromatic room. He gives the slightest impression of a smile as his eyes glaze over with lust. His lids hood low while his chest rises and falls at an animated pace.
“What brings you to this side of town?” he asks as his dimples hedge in and out like shadows.
“You.” I speed my way over, and he meets me at the edge of his desk. “Always you.” I land my lips over his, and Ryder takes the initiative, spearing me lovingly with his tongue. He tastes fresh and minty as if he just rinsed with mouthwash, and it invites me to linger right there for another few minutes.
“Just me?” He peppers my face with kisses.
“I had a meeting with some friends.”
“Sounds nice.” He pulls back with a careful smile. “Do I know any of these friends?”
“Baya, Roxy”—I sigh—“your mother.”
His dimples flex. “How did it go?”
I take in his warm cologne, and my panties melt to nothing. I still can’t believe I’m standing here, in his office, with his heated hands secured over my hips. It all feels like a dream—the best dream.
“It went”—I clasp my fingers around his tie and pull him in—“really, really well.” I land another boiling kiss over him. God I love Ryder’s lips. It’s like falling into a cloud, then his mouth opens, and you find that an entire supernova waits for you. I bump my tongue over his teeth before pulling away. “She invited us over to a dinner party she’s having tonight, and I said I’d love to come after the show.” I bounce my shoulders. “What do you think?”
He lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for weeks. “I think that’s great. Are you sure you’re okay with it?”
“I’m fine. I was able to share how I felt, and she apologized. And now we can kick-start our relationship with both our families intact. It’s going to be great, Ryder.”
“Good.” He melts those lips over my mouth before tracking up to my ear. “Because I never want to see you get hurt again.” He pulls back, and a pinch of grief sweeps over his features. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss, but I don’t think we need to go there right now.” He tugs on the lip of my jeans. “Lose the clothes. Keep the hat.” He flicks the ball dangling near my ear, and the bell goes off. “I’m about to make your wish come true.”
“What wish is that?” I haven’t a clue, but whatever the hell it is, it’s safe to say I’m on board.
“You said you wanted to come after the show.” He runs his tongue over the rim of my ear, and my skin lights up in a trail of prickles. “I’m going to make sure you come before and after. Consider it an early Christmas gift from my tongue to your—”
“Whoa, cowboy.” I cut him off with a laugh caught in my throat.
Ryder zips across the room and locks the door. He sweeps the curtains closed, turning the oversized office into a virtual tunnel of darkness, or, more to the point, tunnel of love.
I jump out of my jeans and boots and peel off my sweater, leaving my red lace bra and underwear. Ryder and his prying eyes were exactly what I had in mind when I dressed myself this morning.
He swoops in from behind and lands a searing kiss just shy of my temple. I can feel his hard-on pressing against my bottom, and I reach back and run my fingers over the length of it.
“Since we’re exchanging gifts a little early…” I purr, spinning in his arms. “I have something that I think you might like.”
“I’m liking you.” His lips run up and down my neck, leaving his silky suit pressed against my bare skin. “You’re all the gift I need, Laney.” He slips his fingers in my panties, and they voluntarily fall to the floor. “I’m the luckiest bastard alive. The only thing I want is my body in you.”
I pull off his coat and work the buttons on his shirt.
“Well then”—I slip his belt off, nice and slow, never losing contact with his glowing eyes—“that fits right into my gift.”
Ryder hoists me up onto his desk, and I knock over a glass of water—about a dozen objects go flying in every direction, and the intercom beeps for our attention. He brings his hand down over it before clearing the papers off the surface with a sweep of his arm.
“Is this where you’re going to have me?” I land my legs on either side of him, trying not to wince as my skin adheres to the icy glass laid over his desk.
“This is just the beginning.” His chest rattles over mine with a dark laugh. “I’m going to have you everywhere.” He dots a kiss to my lips. “In every single way.”
I run my fingers down his chiseled abs and a breath gets caught in my throat. “Ryder Capwell, you have been working out like a prisoner this past year, and you can’t deny it because, believe you me, it shows.” I wanted to say that to him the other night. I wanted to say a lot of things the other night, but whiskey and my stubborn ego prevented me from doing so.
I rake his shirt open, and my hands meander further south. There’s a bulge in his boxers that borders on obscene, and it brings a smile to my face.
“I see my gift is waiting to be unwrapped.” I work on his button before plunging his pants and boxers down past his thighs, and his most enthusiastic body part springs out and says, hi there!