Ten Reasons to Stay ((The Risky Hearts Duet) Book 1)

  It was a perfect moment.

  A forbidden moment.

  A moment broken by the crackling voice of an old man. “Hey. You two. Are you gonna buy a tree or not?”

  Silent chuffs of laughter passed between each other’s lips. His eyes were bright with merriment as he helped me up, dusting the snow from my jacket.

  “We want the sad bachelor,” Cole said.

  “In the back,” I added. “He’s the loneliest of them all.”

  The man pulled the cigarette from his lips and blew a plume of smoke out. “Whatever you say,” he said with an eye roll, and then he disappeared within the trees.

  “What is your favorite color?” I asked as we made our way through the Christmas section at Macy’s. It had been so long since someone had fancied my whims. I loved decorating. Loved this season. I felt alive. Heard.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, picking up a large pinecone dipped in glitter with a confused face.

  I giggled. “How can you not know your favorite color?”

  Shrugging, he set the pinecone down. “I’ve never needed to pick one.”

  “My favorite color is blue. But not regular blue. More of a teal blue,” I admitted. “Like the ocean. One day, I want to live near the ocean.”

  He picked up a plate with Santa Claus painted on it. “Well, if I choose based off something that is my favorite, then my favorite color is red.”

  My skin heated up. I knew why.

  He was watching me, waiting for my reaction.

  “Red is pretty,” I said, poking at a bag of potpourri.

  “Alone, yes, pretty is an accurate word. But on you… red is stunning. Passionate. Moving.”

  The side of my mouth lifted. I found a bin filled with ruby-red ornaments of assorted sizes. “How about these?”

  He came around the corner. Took my hand in his, and then held an ornament against my skin. “Perfect,” he said.

  “Can I help you?” an elderly woman asked, a pleasant smile to her lips.

  “You can,” Cole said, letting go of my arm. “I want to spruce up my place, and I’d like to do it based on this ornament.” He handed her the shiny red orb.

  “I can definitely help you with that. Do you have a budget in mind?”

  When he pulled out a black AmEx, her face lit up.

  An hour later, boxes filled with an array of Christmas delights that made my veins rush with excitement were being shipped to his apartment.

  “You know I don’t know what I’m doing, right?” Cole asked as we stood in the middle of his living room, surrounded by tons of packages. The sad bachelor tree leaned drunkenly in the corner next to the wall of windows, waiting for a woman’s touch.

  “That’s why I’m here,” I said, hands on my hips. Sleeves pushed up over my elbows. “First things first, we need to get that poor tree into its base, and then give it a good drink of water.”

  Cole clapped his hands. “Right. The bachelor needs a drink.”

  Once the tree was in place, I started unboxing things, giving out directions. Placing lights, and then ornaments on the tree. Wreaths on the doors. Dishes in the display cases. Christmas lights strung along walls and the mantle. By the time I was done, his minimalist black-and-white apartment pulsed in various hues of red and green.

  The sad bachelor tree didn’t even resemble the one we’d picked out. He was alive with color. The bare spots given a heartbeat.

  Cole pulled me into his arms, twirling me around the room to the sounds of Christmas. Pressed me closer against his body, the fire that’d been simmering since the morning roaring with life.

  He took me right there, on the floor beside the tree, surrounded by a tangle of red shimmering lights.

  “Today was amazing,” he said.

  In his arms beneath a fur blanket, I yawned. “Good. I wanted it to be.”

  He paused a moment, eyes naked with emotion. “You’re amazing.”

  I traced the line between his pecs, trying to catch hold of my heart fluttering away from me. “So are you.”

  The clock on the wall ticked loud within the warm silence. Our skin was bathed in moonlight, our hearts straddling each other’s, pretending nothing existed outside the bubble we had created. It was strange—how quickly I could fall for another. How easily synced heartbeats could become offbeat, only to synchronize with another’s.

  I had an hour before midnight. Before I had to leave his side. I usually left by now, tip-toeing in my shame back to my empty apartment, wondering when Jack would return. I liked to be showered before I went to bed, but tonight was different.

  I didn’t want to go.

  “Stay,” he said, his fingers tracing the curve of my elbow.

  My heart snagged against the sharpness of his command. “I can’t.”

  “Please?”

  My ribs were aching, burning from his plea. “Why?”

  “Because you like me.”

  I propped on an elbow, scolding myself for staying longer than I should have. We were in dangerous territory, teetering between control and insanity. “I do like you, Cole. That’s the problem.”

  Exhaling in a huff, he wouldn’t meet my gaze. I hated this pushing and pulling. This dance with a flame neither of us were prepared for.

  After I kissed his cheek, I stood, reaching for my clothes. Had to fight every muscle that yearned to return to my spot beside him.

  “One of these days you’ll stay,” he said, so sure, his velvet eyes piercing through me.

  I swallowed the fluttering of my heart. “If that day ever comes, then I’ll be yours. One hundred percent.”

  His intensity as he cradled his head in his big palm, elbow on the floor, burned through me like fire. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

  His words sizzled between a possessive threat and a surrendering promise, only stoking the flames higher.

  My smile drooped, matching my heart. “Goodnight, Cole.”

  “Until Thursday.”

  Chapter 16

  Cole

  “How is dinner coming along?” I asked Bianca as I adjusted my tie.

  “It’s right on time, sir,” she said, iPad in hand.

  From the kitchen, the sounds of the company I’d hired assured me. They were finishing setting up the tables I had brought in to my penthouse. The swelling scents of garlic and vegetables pleasantly scented the air. The red sheets swirling onto the rounded tabletops. The room was tickled with productive energy, gleefully laughing as its minimalist space was filled up.

  Every year before Christmas, I held a dinner with all my salesmen. It was the one time of year we let our guard down—talked as average men. When we could enjoy the year’s worth of hard work and discuss our goals for the future.

  But this year was different.

  Corinne would be here.

  When Jack received the invite, I secretly hoped he’d pencil in a plus one. When he did, I knew I’d get the spicy side of Corinne. My favorite side. She hated being in the same room with us both.

  I thrived on it.

  I wanted her to see that I was better for her. What better way to do that than have us stand side by side. To force her to face the truth she knew deep down.

  Her marriage was over… but she didn’t want to let go.

  I admired the fight in her. She didn’t give up. It was one of the many reasons I’d fallen for her. But I couldn’t push her to decide… I just had to wait. Hope. Be there when the cracks splintered even further.

  “Good,” I said, letting out a breath. “Good.”

  The doorbell rang a moment later. The host I’d hired let them in. It was George and his wife Catarina, a rumored mail-order bride. He’d been working for me for years, nearing retirement. I was still trying to get him to pass off as much of his knowledge to the younger brokers as I could before he left.

  After George arrived, the rest soon trickled in, making small talk as whiskeys were carted around the room on gold-rimmed platters. Hors d’oeuvres looped in between the sm
all gathering, carried by waitresses dressed in white. Plucked one after the other, followed by the sounds of fingers being licked and small, pleased moans. The curved, jolly notes from the piano drifted through the large room, filling in the gaps with the holiday spirit.

  The last to show was Jack with Corinne by his side. She wore a lovely gold-sequined dress with a ruby-red shawl draped around her shoulders. Tiny rosebuds were pinned in her hair, matching the shade of red painted on her lips.

  How did she do it? Anything she wore, she glowed in.

  I couldn’t go to her, even though every bone in my body scratched at my skin, begging me to move. Locked in a debate with George and Dennis over a company we’d all tried to buy out at one point, I was on the verge of winning.

  That didn’t stop me from watching her, though.

  She moved around the room, almost tiptoeing, following Jack as he said hello to every salesman in the room. She didn’t focus too long in any direction. In any place where memories of us might surface.

  The room was a trap. Landmines of every night we shared. It was obvious she feared she might step in them. I wanted her to think of our memories. To compare. To realize.

  Handshakes were exchanged between Jack and the men. Backs were being slapped as laughter pushed from the rowdy crowd. It was all a show. The grandest of them all.

  And, every time, Corinne would have to introduce herself—after the awkward pauses where the curious stares of the other wives became too much. She’d push her hand foreword, chin out, refusing to feel sorry for herself.

  Or maybe she was just used to it.

  My fingers dug into my palms. Heart writhed and twisted, bulking up, pulling out its shield and sword. She should be introduced first. She was the center of everything. The prize on any lucky man’s arm.

  If she were mine…

  “What do you think, Cole?”

  It was Dennis’ words that plucked my attention back to the present. I flicked my attention between the two men, plastering on a smile as they laughed at my momentary mental absence. Dennis turned his head just a fraction, gaze pinging to where I had been staring. When he swiveled toward me, it was there, my truth, mocking me from the depths of his knowledge.

  I swallowed, throat dry. “I’m sorry… Yes. Sounds good,” I said, trying to piece together what had just been said. Avoiding Dennis’ probing gaze.

  A waitress came by with a tray of whiskey. I didn’t hesitate. We all took a glass, cheered to each other, and then downed the fiery liquid.

  “I vant to sit, Georgy,” Catarina said, tugging on George’s arm.

  George chuckled. The sound reminded me of my grandfather. Rich and gravelly from years of smoking. “Okay,” he said, patting her absently.

  Without George’s presence, the circle disbanded. Sally, Dennis’ wife, ushered Dennis to their table. I was grateful, because it gave me a moment to find Corinne and say hi before the dinner began. I’d be gentle with her. Careful.

  She was pinned in the corner near our tree, peering through the window down at the city lights while Jack chummed it up with another company’s CEO near the bar. There was a sadness to the way her shoulders curved forward. A loneliness that didn’t belong.

  I moved in next to her, hands tucked in my pockets. Truths put back where they belonged.

  She attempted a smile—one I barely caught from the corner of my eye—but it never quite reached her eyes. “Your place is lovely,” she said, pressing a champagne flute to her red lips. Her voice brittle but warm.

  I smirked. Playful. Reminding her of our times. “I’ll let my decorator know. She has a knack for picking out the things I like.”

  The air gave a small, relieved exhale.

  “She sounds good at her job,” she said, almost defiant.

  My gaze deepened on her, pulse quickening. “She is. On more than one level.”

  Heat brewed between us, despite our efforts. Thick and sweet, like warmed sugar. I loved our back and forth. Admittedly, I even loved that it happened with Jack right behind us. He didn’t deserve her, and the fact it was me who’d earned the upward curve of those luscious lips, who was turning her on… made my insides feel like a thousand lit-up bulbs.

  “Cole, I—”

  “That’s a nice tree you have,” Jack said, moving in beside her, placing his arm on the dip in her back. “Very festive.”

  I glanced at his hand, fist involuntarily clenching before I forced myself to relax, then lifted to her face. “Thank you. I was just telling Corinne how amazing my decorator is. She’s a gem.”

  Jack’s eyebrows lifted as he regarded us. “Really? Do we know her?”

  “Probably not,” Corinne said hurriedly, placing her hand on Jack’s chest. Gaze fleeing from mine, like a flock of scattering crows.

  “She did the whole place?” Jack asked, surveying the area with admiration. “She must be amazing.”

  A longing stirred in my gut. “You have no idea.”

  Jack stared down at Corinne, rubbing her back. “You should get her name, honey. Maybe she could spruce up our place.”

  Hurt immediately flared in Corinne’s eyes. His words were like a knife, splitting open all the work she had done. All the love she had put into her personal touch. I’d never seen the inside of their apartment, but I didn’t doubt for a second that it was alive with Corinne’s personality.

  “I like how I’ve decorated,” she said a bit defensively.

  Jack noticed the tone, laughed her off. Dismissive. Condescension second nature to him. “It’s nice, but everyone can learn from a little help here and there, right?” He directed the question toward me, wanting me to back him up.

  Corinne flushed red, but not the red of passion. The red of anger. Of hurt. She tried to hide it by surveying the crowd.

  Once again, I felt like I was in the middle of somewhere I didn’t belong. Only, this time I didn’t want to excuse myself. I wanted him to see what he had. How wonderful she was.

  Maybe I wouldn’t ever have her. Maybe she’d never leave him, but the least I could do was stand up for her when he wouldn’t. Make him see her, because in the end, my misery didn’t matter. Only hers.

  “I think you’re lucky to have a beautiful wife who cares enough to take care of your home,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral, even, but failing. “Any man would kill to have a Corinne by their side.”

  Her gaze went cold when they plastered punishment onto me. Pleading for me to stop.

  “Well, I… Of course,” Jack said, his laughter laced with discomfort as he pulled her hip against his. “My Corinne is amazing.”

  My Corinne.

  Corinne downed the rest of her champagne in one gulp. Wiggled out from Jack’s grasp. “You boys are too much,” she said, trying to pass us off, but I caught the fear in her words. “I’m going to freshen up before dinner.”

  She left us standing in front of our tree.

  Jack stood still, the silence between us sharp. Punctuated. A single word spoken could be the drag of a knife, ripping open scattered secrets.

  Bianca tapped me on the shoulder, breaking through the tension. “Cole, dinner is ready.”

  I was glad for the save.

  “Thank you, Bianca.” With a nod, I left Jack, feeling a hole being burned into my back.

  Dinner went as it usually did every year. Toasts were made. Jokes were passed around. Business propositions were served alongside the main courses. I was relieved by the time we moved to cocktails, knowing soon everyone would be on their way home, satisfied.

  Jack had wormed his way beside George and Dennis, so I decided to sneak off and find Corinne. I’d let her be the entire night. Kept my attention focused on my guests though I burned to find her. I had taken it too far. I was bordering wrong. I just… I couldn’t get past what I’d discovered about him. What she didn’t know. What he didn’t deserve to have.

  What my heart felt.

  Corinne was nowhere to be found when I made my rounds through the apartment. I
stopped, having an inkling about where she’d be… her favorite spot in the penthouse—the balcony.

  She was leaning against the glass rail, wrapped in a coat, hair flowing in the chilling breeze. Like an angel in the night. The crescent moon peered in and out through the silver clouds.

  “You’re going to freeze out here,” I said, approaching her slowly, cautiously.

  She lifted her gaze, her face shaped in sadness. I thought she might have been crying, but it was too hard to tell in the dim light.

  She faked a smile. Wiped from under her eyes. “I just needed a breather.”

  I wanted to pull her against me. Erase the sadness from her soul. Make her see there was another side to the rainbow, and I could give it to her. I could give it all to her.

  “Same,” I said, stopping beside her. Leaving a safe distance between us, though every inch writhed to be filled.

  She let out a sigh, heavy and dark. “I hate the fakeness of all this.”

  I could feel my brow wrinkle. “What do you mean?”

  She was shaking her head, distress shadowing her features. “No one really cares to know anything about anyone else here. I mean, aside from the information that helps them get ahead, no one really cares. It’s empty conversations in there. It’s lonely. How do you… how do you stand it?”

  “I don’t. Why do you think there’s an unlimited amount of liquor available?” I tried to joke. It fell flat. She didn’t smile. I exhaled. “It’s all I’ve known. Business is business. In that room, we separate our emotions from the corporate life. Personal lives don’t belong.”

  “Then why the show? Why the need to host an intimate party where there’s no intimacy?” she retorted.

  There was more to it than that. Jack made her lonely. Being in a room with the two of us was probably more than she could handle. None of this was fair to her. Guilt sunk like rocks in my stomach.

  “Because it’s all a part of the show, Corinne. To make them feel comfortable. To make things seem more than they really are.”

  She nodded, the real truth beneath those words registering deep in my gut. Jack was the master at putting on a show. It was obvious she knew it, too