by Katy Evans
I hold it together as I take the elevator to the lobby and head home with my box. But I fall apart with my grandma’s queen of everything pillow.
I don’t feel like a queen now, I don’t feel like anything amazing now.
Tahoe drives me to the airport.
I’m hiding my weepy, swollen eyes behind a pair of sunglasses, quietly staring out at Chicago.
“Carmichael came to talk to me.”
I think I hear my heartbeat faltering. “Oh.”
“He talk to you yet?” He seems very curious.
“No. I mean, we said goodbye yesterday. We’re friends and on good terms. We’re texting each other next month if he manages to stop smoking.”
A silence, then a soft chuckle. “Okay then. Call me and tell me how that goes.”
I don’t know how my brother can sound so amused when I’m sure that I won’t feel amusement or true joy for a long time in my life again.
“You going to be okay?” he asks as I step out of the car and Tahoe comes around to hug me.
“Yes.” I look into his blue eyes, so like mine. “Don’t get into any fights.” I scowl at the fading bruise around his left eye.
“Don’t make me,” he warns, then he grins and wraps me in a bear hug. “You tell him you love him?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. It’s better this way. I don’t want to pressure him into anything and I belong in Texas.”
“Do you?” is all he asks, his lips half curled even as I nod emphatically and board his plane.
I feel an odd sense of loss. I smile and wipe a tear from my eye and clutch my vomit bag as I fly in my brother’s jet back to Texas, though the feeling in my stomach doesn’t seem to be related to my fear of heights at all.
I just don’t know if I’m flying in the right direction.
This was the plan. Callan just wasn’t in it and now that he is, I’m struggling to believe what my nana once said, that maybe I could have both. I’m transported to the terrace. Olivia. Callan. To his teasing smile. His expectant gaze when he pushed me. To the way he lost control in bed. To the cigarettes we shared. The stolen looks and the forbidden touches and the talks.
The talks.
The slow, irrefutable, irresistible smile of his. It was perfect.
He was perfect.
Callan
Lovely girl.
Lovely fucking infuriating girl.
She’s a fucking lovely infuriating girl and I’m behind my office desk, staring at her fake ring, rich beyond measure and as miserable as they come. My whole life is as fake as this ring Livvy wore.
Jesus.
I let her go.
Despite every inch of me screaming to grab her to me and never let her leave. I could see her begging me to let her go. This is her dream. I won’t hold her back.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
I’m not fucking buying it, not even for a dime.
I’m not this guy. I’m the guy who wouldn’t get it. Why my friends would go balls deep for just one. I do now. This is me now.
I call T.
“I’m all in.”
I hang up then I grab my keys. First thing on my mind—a meeting at Carma for some much-needed restructuring. Second, I’m getting a real ring to replace the damn fake one on her finger.
I’ll give her a month. But that’s all she’s getting. I’m not taking no for an answer. This is my girl—all that’s required is for the stubborn, irresistible little Miss Roth to see it.
Livvy
I’ve heard it too many times. Be careful what you wish for. But still millions of people are out there wishing. I got my wish. I got a kick-ass internship, a kick-ass recommendation from Callan Carmichael, CEO of Carma Inc., and Daniel Radisson scooped me up like a football for the touchdown.
It should feel absolutely great—I’m climbing the ladder of success, step by step.
I could think Callan’s recommendation might have been influenced by my bed skills, but I know that man too well: he wouldn’t endorse anything or put his signature on any paper that he didn’t fully believe in.
And he fully believed in me, right from the start—he gave me a shot. Taught me the ropes. He even let me go so I could chase this dream.
The satisfaction I should feel isn’t there, though, because somewhere along the way I started thinking of other possibilities for my life. I should be proud I stuck with the plan. Instead I feel like there’s this giant vacuum in my life and nothing can fill it.
Radisson Investments in Austin wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. Even with me living with Mom and Dad only an hour away and Nana’s grave so close, I’m not as motivated. Daniel leaves me alone and just says, “Good job.” Always “Good job.” I wonder if he’d say that even if I were putting in only a halfhearted effort. I almost am.
I crave Callan’s voice telling me, “You can do better.”
I’m thinking of veering off on my own a little earlier than expected, but I know I’ve yet to sharpen up my investing skills a little more.
Daniel isn’t a corporate raider. He couldn’t pull it off if he tried. After working at the massive Carma headquarters in Chicago, I feel like the smaller offices of Radisson—no uniform, casual, easygoing surroundings—really don’t inspire me to step up my game and get sharp.
It doesn’t help that I heard about the Alcore deal. Callan once again surprised me—he holds majority now but allowed the previous stockholders to retain their seats on the board and a larger percentage of stock, and he’s injecting capital for an expansion that will take Alcore to the next level—one where millions of sales will become billions. The debt will grow, temporarily, but only until the huge new deals with high-tech companies start bearing fruit.
I applied for a real job, at Carma. I don’t feel at home here anymore, even though my parents are amazing and I love seeing my friends. What I got in Chicago may not have been what I wanted for myself. I realize now that life gave me better, so much more than I imagined. I fell in love in a way I never thought I could. I never thought I could have both a career and him. I want nothing less.
Fuck the plan, it’s not what I want anymore.
I want Chicago and I want for the hottest man in Chicago to be as crazy about me as I am about him.
My new plan is: Do anything for career except give up the man you love.
I keep refreshing my email all day. It’s been a week since I submitted my application, but I’ve received nothing yet. I’m even considering calling Tahoe but maybe Callan doesn’t want me there anymore. I’m home after a full day of work and refresh my calendar to verify it’s a month mark. I want a cigarette. I really do.
Me: Month mark tomorrow. Did you make it? I almost didn’t. YOU?! Did you stay away?
Him: Hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m ready to cave in.
Me: Me too. I’d have one if I had any. I’m too lazy to get some.
Him: I got you.
Me: Haha. Please do. I’m waiting. Make it fast.
Him: Fast enough for you?
I don’t understand the message until I see movement on the front porch as I walk up to the house. Standing before me is a vision—a complete hallucination—of Callan in jeans and a black crewneck T-shirt that clings to his muscles and has him looking his hottest.
He’s only a few feet away—instead of a whole bunch of states away. And he’s hot, amazing, right fucking here—his jaw a little shadowed by stubble, his hair rumpled by the wind—and he’s never looked as real.
As adorable.
As bad-boy sexy and as fucking good.
I swallow the lump that seems to immediately well up in my throat.
I want to sprint to him, climb him like my tree house, and move into him as my permanent home.
I want to crawl on him and touch him all over, kiss him all over. My fingers itch at my sides and my mouth dries up. I feel the attraction crackling between us. The air around him is testosterone-laden and my whole body feels it, senses it. I s
ee it in his eyes as he looks at me the way he used to—with a touch of amusement, and a whole lot of interest, and just a gleam of admiration too.
“Callan,” I gulp.
“Olivia.”
His voice, oh god.
Oh god oh god.
It sparks up a sea of tiny goose bumps across my arms and I laugh at my own reaction, marveling at his effect on me—always his effect on me—and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear with a shaking hand.
I’m shaking all over as I walk up to my front porch, catching my breath when the air I breathe begins to smell of his cologne.
I take a seat, and he sits beside me.
“Thanks to your recommendation, I got the job at Raddison.”
He shifts to his elbows, looking at me intensely, his lips hiking up at the corners. “That’s a pity.”
I’m surprised by his comment. “Huh? Why?” I scowl at him.
“I’m opening a new division at Carma. I’m allocating a percentage of our investment funds to partner with small, struggling companies. I wanted you as head.”
I blink.
I draw my eyes away.
“I couldn’t take the chance of you saying no—so I gave you some time.” He takes my chin. “I can’t take a chance of you saying no.”
I’m blown away by the offer. I’m blown away by the way Callan is looking at me now, as if I’m exactly what he’s been looking for, for a long, long time. “There are other people who can do that job a thousand times better,” I whisper.
“I doubt that.”
He holds my gaze.
Love doesn’t lie. Everything I’ve never known I wanted, I see in his eyes. It’s taken time for me to look past my fears and my plans, and now here he is. Here I am.
“Whatever you want to do, do it now—there are no guaranteed tomorrows, Olivia,” he says, jaw clenched as he looks at me.
“Life goes by in a blink, Livvy. Here we are, trying to make sense of it. Stop thinking and just live it. I don’t want another second without you. Not one.” He shakes his head, then pauses and takes my chin again, leaning closer. His voice drops to a low, deep rumble. “I once told you I didn’t know if I could love anyone deeply. I can and I do. More than I ever thought I could.”
I’m speechless. For the first time in my life, really. Everything I never knew I wanted sits next to me in six-feet-plus of muscle and man. My friend and my mentor and my lover and my . . . love.
“I told you I loved you,” he says, softly, when I don’t respond.
My voice sounds soft as cotton. “I remember. You just said it.”
“Any chance I’ll ever hear you say it back?”
I nod frantically fast, trying to find my voice.
“Climb the terrace we’ve built and come to the edge, and take a look, Olivia. I’m standing right there.”
I croak out, clenching my fingers into my palm, “What are you doing standing there?”
“Waiting for you, you adorable, infuriating, irresistible girl.” He thinks about it, then laughs as if at himself, then eyes me meaningfully. “I want you pregnant with my children. I want your DNA permanently woven with mine.”
He waits. Then . . .
“Remember when I told you the worst things are never planned?” he asks. “In my case, I think it’s the best things in my life I never planned. I never thought I’d own my own business one day. I never planned for my friends, Saint and Roth. I never planned for my brother. You are one of those things. The thing. I never planned for you in my life, Olivia,” he says, watching me. “I guess you can say I had a thousand small business plans, never a personal one. You know me. I don’t like leaving things to chance.” His lips quirk a little in amusement. “It always felt too iffy. For twenty-eight years, I was proven right not to have planned for it. But then, there was this lovely little blonde on the terrace of Carma, and she asked me for a hit, and I wanted all of her like I’d never wanted anything. Those wide, scared eyes, that mouth running away from you.”
I’m melting and yet I’m still sitting here but I don’t even know how. I feel so much love that it suddenly infuses every pore of my body and enlivens every particle and atom of my being.
If I was strong enough to fall for him—for a man like him—I’m strong enough to be with him. He won’t be easy. And the realization that I don’t want him to be, that the challenge excites me, brings out the best in me, fills me with excitement and relief.
“I don’t want you to work for me, Livvy. I want you to be my partner in every way, in every sense. I want to plan good things with you. A future with you. And I’ll ride it even if some things don’t go our way; all I know is that I want all of it with you. You make it better. You make me better.” He cups my face and squeezes gently as he looks into my eyes. “I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you I’m drowning here. I’m fucking drowning here.” He shakes his head. “I blinked my eyes and you were gone. It went by so fast, I don’t want to blink a second time and find you gone again, not for a second.”
I take his jaw and press my lips to his. He groans and grabs the back of my head, angling it so he can kiss me harder.
“I wanted to stay,” I breathe as I rain loving pecks on his mouth. “I wanted to say I loved you and I was afraid.”
“Say it,” he gruffly commands.
“I love you. You fucked up my plan and I’m glad you did.” I laugh when his lips hike up at the corners and his hand clenches convulsively around the back of my head. Callan couldn’t look prouder if he’d taken over the galaxy. “It’s the first time I’ve said it to your face. It feels good to tell you.”
He stands and lifts me, his hands on my ass, anchoring me to him. “I brought you something.” He shifts me on his thigh and reaches into his back pocket.
He hands me a box of cigarettes, and a melty sensation runs along my spine. I open it and, to my disappointment, there’s nothing inside. “What kind of gift is this?” I complain.
I turn it upside down, as if magically a cigarette will appear, and out falls a heavy diamond ring onto the center of my palm.
I’m in shock. All I’d asked for was a cigarette. Really. Just a smoke.
“I’m all in,” he whispers, looking down at me, his eyes brilliant with happiness as he tips my chin up. “Are you?”
My throat starts closing as he takes the ring and slides it onto my finger. The perfect fit. “This one’s as real as it gets.” He taps the huge emerald-cut diamond in its center.
I’ve had flutters, palpitations, and weird feelings in my heart since I met him, but the leaps my heart is doing now have no precedent! “You’re going at warp speed, Callan, I . . .”
“You wanted a nudge, this is more than a nudge. I’m taking control of our futures. I want everything. Are you in?”
I clench my lips together and spread my palms on his hard jaw, cupping the face of my Hot Smoker Guy in a way that tells him I’m never, ever letting him go. “I’m in. I’m all in.”
He strokes his fingers through my hair as he plants a hard, fierce kiss on my earlobe.
I press closer to him. I’m smiling so hard my face hurts. “I’m crazy in love with you.”
He’s smiling too. His hands like vises around me. “Because you’re a crazy girl. Half mad, really.”
“Mad for you,” I counter.
He leans over and captures my lower lip with his, then nibbles on my top one. “Back at you.”
I flick my tongue out and taste him. God, I’d missed his taste so much. “Come upstairs with me. No one’s home. It’s too hot to go out to the hill,” I say.
I take his hand and tug him inside, and upstairs, to my bedroom.
I shut the door behind me and head to the bed, looking at him wantonly. “You with your reputation for womanizing, are you sure you’ll have enough with me?”
He walks forward. “Got my hands full with you.”
“Good, because I’m too stubborn to let anyone else have you.”
“No one has me, but I�
��m having all of you,” he says, grabbing me and pulling me to him.
“I get nothing? That’s not a fair trade.” I scowl.
“A little bit of me. This, though?” he says softly as he touches my lips. “I’m definitely having this.” His eyes heat up as he lowers his hand and cups my pussy. “Definitely this.” His voice gets gruffer by the second as the heat in his eyes swirls around me in a sea of bronze. He touches my eyes with two fingers. “These. I’ll take both of these.” Then, he spreads his hand on my forehead. “I’m taking this too.” He brushes his fingers over my breast, my left breast, right over my heart. “This. Most of all.”
“And in return, I get . . .?” I prod.
“An eye for an eye, like they say.”
“My whole heart for your whole life?” I dare him.
“We’ll see. I want a bonus.”
“Like what? I’m giving you everything!” I cry, laughing.
“Like . . .”—he tugs the sleeve of my top downward to expose the back of my shoulder, pressing his smiling lips against my skin—“this cluster of freckles.”
I groan.
Shivery.
That’s how he makes me feel.
He kisses the back of my shoulder and I tilt my head, enjoying the feel of his lips on my skin as my chest swells.
When he lifts his head and our gazes meet, I’m done playing around.
I love the playful sensuality in his eyes—like he doesn’t take anything too seriously. Except maybe sex with me right now. Because there, right under the playful sensuality, is the heat of a thousand suns trained on me. I can’t even breathe.
I’m wearing this guy’s ring, on my finger. He loves me and I love him.
He’s panting as his eyes give me a quiet command to get naked.
I unzip my slacks and shove them off, on a mission, not able to get naked fast enough, then I stare at him, delicious and stunning as he unbuttons his jeans, and his beautiful cock stands out. Callan takes it and strokes, watching me, and I lean over and kiss the tip, then open my mouth, taking everything I can, the whole shaft. He groans.
