The words, though harsh, were spoken with obvious affection. Nic used the context clues skills she’d honed in the third grade. Caila. “What did she do?”
Ava raised two perfectly sculpted brows. “Her email? About shopping for her wedding?”
Nic hadn’t checked her email in a couple of days. “I haven’t seen it. What did she say?”
“She wants to coordinate our dress fittings so we could all Skype in.” Ava frowned and waved a hand. “If you didn’t call about her email, what’s up?”
Nic recoiled in horror. Skype their dress fittings?
“Can you imagine being in the store and having to ask the clerk to hold our phones while we conferenced?” Nic pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not going to happen.”
“We can talk about it after you read the email. But don’t change the subject. What’s going on? Is it work?”
“Kind of.”
She hadn’t told her friends what happened, probably because admitting it to them would be akin to accepting it was a done deal. She planned to rectify the situation and get her fellowship back. Her friends would never have to know.
“You only have a few weeks left. How could you get in—” Ava broke off as the sound of a seagull’s cawing bellowed nearby. She narrowed her eyes and her face suddenly filled the screen. “That doesn’t look like Baltimore to me. Where are you?”
Nic sighed. “Martha’s Vineyard.”
“Martha’s Vin— What in the hell are you doing there?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You can give me the abridged version while I finish this paperwork.” Ava placed her phone on a stand and her image widened to incorporate more of the shelves behind her. “It’ll be like listening to a podcast.”
The short version. How about she’d awakened in the arms of the man she’d come to consider as one of her best friends and now couldn’t stop craving those arms around her again?
“You remember Ben, right?”
“Sure. He’s the guy you rent from?”
This would all be much easier if that’s all he was.
“A couple of his friends are going out of the country for a few years and they’re gathering over the long weekend to celebrate. Like a fancy bon voyage party. He invited me.”
“That was nice of him.” Ava wrote something on the paper in front of her then glanced up at Nic. “How did you manage to get the time off for a long weekend?”
“I had some time coming to me.”
Nic didn’t miss the suspicion in Ava’s tone. She should’ve known the other woman couldn’t be diverted from a topic of interest unless she wanted to be. It was part of what made her an amazing legal mind. Nic would reveal it all to Ava . . . one day. Right now, she needed help with another problem.
She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I think I might like him. Like, like him, like him.”
“Oh sweetie.” Ava’s dark brown eyes softened and she put down her pen. “I know we just saw each other, but I’d be happy to fly you out for a few days. I can rearrange my schedule a little and we can hang out . . .”
Nic was confused. Her confession was important and she’d wanted Ava’s input, but her response didn’t seem . . . proportionate. What she’d admitted to didn’t rise to a level one DEFCON emergency, the kind that would make any of the Ladies of Lefevre drop what they were doing and immediately fly to the aid of another. The way Ava had for Caila during that whole work debacle last year.
“Why would I fly out—”
“You’ve been working so hard and you probably take no time to relax and get out to meet people. When you do have time off, you spend it in the house with Ben. This was bound to happen. But you know it won’t work, right?”
Despite her own similar thinking, Nic bristled at Ava’s frank statement. “Why not?”
Ava’s glossed lips fell open. “Because he’s gay!”
Nic couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing.
“You’re laughing at him?” Ava wrinkled her nose. “You can be harsh, but that seems cruel, even for you and it’s not a good look.”
Nic blew out a stabilizing breath and attempted to speak. Failed, then tried again. “I’m not laughing at him. I’m laughing at you! Ben isn’t gay!”
“He’s not?”
“Fuck no! Why would you think that?”
Ava had actually met Ben last year when she’d visited Nic after spending some time with Caila in Chicago. It had been only in passing; he’d come in just as they were leaving.
But still.
“Because he’s gorgeous, rich, and, according to you, a real sweetheart and until this point, you’ve never expressed any interest in him at all!”
Not one of her brightest moments. How had she gone all of this time not seeing what was right in front of her? It was like learning the secret behind a magician’s trick. She couldn’t imagine how she’d never known.
“Well, I’m an idiot. And trust me, he’s not gay.”
I won’t take it into my mouth until you’re moaning loudly & your hot body is writhing against me.
She shivered.
“And you haven’t jumped on that?”
“He was my friend! But now, ‘jumping on that’ is all I can think about. And I’m scared.”
“Because you don’t want to ruin the friendship.” It was a statement, not a question.
Ava understood. True friendship was extremely important to Nic. It was the reason she treasured Ava, Caila, and Lacey as much as she did. She’d found a really good friend in Ben. Was she willing to risk that for sex?
“When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Six months.”
It had been on her mind a lot lately. It’s why she’d tried to reach out to Carlos last week. It’s why she was in this situation!
I’ll swirl my tongue around them, savoring their feel & taste.
“Damn.”
“I know.” Nic had always had a healthy sexual appetite. But recently, she hadn’t wanted to expend the minimal effort required with her usual lovers. She enjoyed spending her free time with Ben. And she had a drawer full of toys when the ache had gotten to be too much.
“Maybe it’s not Ben,” Ava offered helpfully. “Maybe you’re just horny and any old dick would do?”
Nic stared across the yard to the spot where they’d stood yesterday. Before Davis had appeared, she’d wanted to climb Ben the way he’d described scaling that grand oak as a teen.
“No. It’s definitely Ben.”
“Then you win the group’s award for self-discipline. I don’t know any of us who could’ve lived with a man like that for three years without adding a little bonus to the rent,” Ava said, adding a sassy shimmy of her shoulders.
“But what do I do?”
Ava sighed. “What do you want to do?”
That was easy. “Him. I want to do him.”
“Does he feel the same way?”
God, my skin is tingling & I’m so wet.
Can I feel?
Nic licked her lips. “Yeah.”
“Then what’s holding you back?”
Frustration tightened her stomach as a confusing brew of conflicting thoughts whirled through her mind.
“Let me ask you this,” Ava said. “If you fuck and it’s . . . not good, do you think he’d be an ass about it?”
She couldn’t imagine either scenario being true. “No.”
“Then this is the perfect time to explore your attraction. If it doesn’t work out, he’ll still be your friend. And if you can’t go back to being friends, you’re leaving soon. There’s nothing he can do to negatively affect you.”
Except not ask his parents to talk to the head of the Duke fellowship on her behalf.
Nic dismissed that thought as soon as it entered her mind. That wasn’t the kind of man Ben was. It may have been better for her if he was. It would give her an easy excuse to keep him in the friend zone.
“I have to go,” she finally said,
unfolding from the chair. “We’re leaving for dinner soon and I need to get dressed.”
Ava nodded. “Have fun. And we’ll deal with this Caila thing later.”
“Sure.”
Despite what Ava said, Nic knew they would all end up doing exactly what Caila wanted.
“Oh! Don’t forget Lacey’s out here for her audition. We’re all on call in case she needs us.”
Nic pinched her lips together. She had forgotten. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“You call or text if you need me.”
“I will.”
“And Nic? Listen to your gut. Whatever you decide is what will happen.”
“How do you know that?”
A soft, loving smile tilted the corners of Ava’s mouth. “Because you’re the most determined woman I know.”
“I thought that was Caila?”
“No, Caila is driven. Some may say obsessed. You are determined. When you set a goal for yourself, you let nothing stand in your way and I’ve always admired that about you. Just . . . consider the repercussions. Make sure you truly want it, all of it, before you decide to go after him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ben knocked on the closed en suite bathroom door. “Are you almost done?”
“Stop rushing me!” Nic called back.
Rushing her? She’d been up here at least an hour before him. In fact, when he’d gotten back to the room, he’d had to grab his stuff and get dressed in Davis’s room because she’d been in the bathroom. The only reason he knew she hadn’t been in there the entire time he’d been gone was the missing dress that had lain on the bed.
“You have ten minutes and then we’re leaving, with or without you!”
“Like I’d ever believe that, Van Mont!”
She knew him well.
Still— “You don't have to believe it, but you better listen,” he called back, before sliding open the patio door and stepping out onto the balcony.
“They never listen.”
Ben froze, recalling the words he’d thought he’d heard and the disturbing mixture of resignation, anger, and disappointment that had poured off Quentin Miller. He knew that pain, that sense that you were screaming for something as loud as you could and no one seemed to hear.
Let alone care.
And he hadn’t been any better. He’d leaped to conclusions about Quentin’s life, having the man broke and retired before he’d even played his first professional game.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled out his phone and accessed the player’s files. Finding Quentin’s number, he placed the call.
“Quentin?”
“Yeah?”
There was music and the sound of people talking in the background. Shit!
“This is Ben Van Mont from Reed Financial Services.” He spoke loudly to be heard over the commotion. “Do you have a moment?”
“Make it fast. I’m having dinner with my family.”
Ben could hear the impatience in Quentin’s voice. He was grateful the man had even taken the call, considering the way their initial encounter had ended.
“When we met in my office you said, ‘They never listen.’ If you don’t mind me asking, who were you referring to?”
“People like you. The money people. Usually white.”
“And what don’t we listen to?”
Quentin sighed the sigh of someone exhausted by dealing with people who didn’t understand him. “To me. To why those names were on the forms. To why I need to take care of them.”
“All of them?” He didn’t bother hiding his skepticism.
“You and I may have gone to the same high school but we come from different worlds,” Quentin said. “I lived in a rough neighborhood only a few miles from your office, if you can believe it. Football was my way out of there, for me and my family. Some of the people on that list made sure I got to school safely. Some of them ran interference, kept the bad element off me. Some of them gave me a place to crash when things weren’t great at home. Yeah, it was my talent on the field, but I wouldn’t have made it without them.”
Ben admired the fortitude Quentin had to have possessed to triumph in the face of those odds. He understood why the player would want to share his success with those who helped him. But—
“I’ve seen these relationships. They never work out. People get resentful.”
“I don’t need a father figure. I had one. I just need a financial manager to take care of my paper and advise me when it comes to getting more. I’ll make the final decision on how to spend it.”
Ben nodded, though the other man couldn’t see him. “I understand. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.”
They disconnected the call. Ben placed the phone in his pocket and headed back into the bedroom. He thought he’d made a decision about Quentin but now he was questioning himself. He really liked the player, but if Ben took him on as a client, he might be stretching his business beyond his solo practitioner capabilities. He’d had no interest in doing that before.
Had that changed?
“Who’s out there with you?” Nic asked through the door.
He frowned. “Nobody.”
“I thought I heard you talking to someone?”
Oh. “I made a phone call to a potential client.”
“Another app creator?”
“No. This one’s in sports. Quentin Jackson.”
She paused for a lengthy moment then asked, “Q-ball?”
He jerked his head back. “How do you know him? You hate football.”
“Yeah, but I watch ESPN and I know sports. He’s really good. He’d be a great catch for your firm.” She chuckled. “‘Catch’? See what I did there?”
His lips twitched. “It appears Tinsley isn’t the only one with bad jokes.”
He couldn’t hear her response, but he was certain it contained a curse word or four.
He gave in to the grin. “We would be fortunate to get Quentin but taking him on would increase my workload beyond what I can realistically manage on my own.”
“Then hire help.”
The same solution Ezra had given. Neither of them seemed to get it.
Ben exhaled and leaned against the wall. “I’ve always wanted Reed Financial Services to remain small.”
Her reply was immediate. “But you’re too good for that. Are you afraid of success?”
He set his jaw. “The firm is successful now. If I take on more clients and employees, running the business will become my life.”
“And then you won’t have time for the type of family you want.” Nic’s sigh was audible through the door. “Ben, you don’t know what the future holds. You have the chance to do more of what you love. Why limit yourself?”
“There’s nothing wrong with placing a higher value on the ‘life’ option in the work/life balance.”
“You know that’s a privilege not everyone can claim, right?”
“What is?”
“Turning down the opportunity to make more money so you can be available for this fictitious family you’re planning.” A clatter, the sound of an aerosol spray, and then, “There, I’m done.”
A moment later, the bathroom door opened and she emerged in a mouthwatering cloud of fragrance.
“Cuteness takes time,” she said, smoothing a hand down the pretty green dress she wore.
His heart skidded to a stop, then began to pound for all it was worth. She’d left her hair free, though the curls seemed more pronounced, more . . . defined. Her lashes looked fuller, her lips redder and poutier.
He couldn’t stop staring at her. His eyes finally left her face and dropped to her body. The top of the dress cupped her breasts, showcasing her pert cleavage, and molded to her torso. The flowy skirt swirled around her legs and the thigh-high slit teased him with the occasional tantalizing peek of skin.
And what the color did to her eyes . . .
He swallowed. “You look . . . incredible.”
“Thank you. I
hope it was worth the wait,” she said with a soft—flirtatious?—smile.
“It was.”
“Good.” She walked over to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of strappy silver shoes. “I had fun this afternoon. Your friends are great.”
He watched her slide into her shoes and suddenly understood how foot fetishes could become a thing. Was there anything about this woman that didn’t turn him on? “That’s nice of you to say.”
“It’s true. They’re all outgoing and interesting, for the most part.”
Except for one. “I’m sorry about Tinsley.”
After she’d left them on the beach, he hadn’t seen Tinsley for the rest of the day. He still didn’t know if she was joining them for dinner.
Nic paused in the act of putting on silver hoop earrings. “Jesus Christ! I wish everyone would stop apologizing to me for her. She’s not your responsibility. She’s a grown woman.”
“She’s not acting like it.”
“Your other friends have been lovely. Especially since I’m sure my presence has thrown off the dynamic.”
“No it hasn’t.”
She gave him a knowing look. “One year, Lacey invited a woman she’d met dancing in a master class to join us.”
That was news to him. “You allow guests to come on your vacations?”
“Not anymore,” Nic said, her eyes wide. “It’s taken years to work out how we like to do things. A lot of trial and error. And the woman, as nice as she was, wouldn’t make an effort. She didn’t want to spend any time with us and kept sneaking off on her own when we weren’t looking. She even brought some rando dude back to the house where we were staying. By the end of the vacation, the rule was no more invitations.”
“Ouch.”
She winced. “I know. That sounds horrible. We’re not some cliquish group, I promise. We all have other friends—”
“Clearly,” he said.
She smiled. He loved her smile.
“—but our annual trip is our time. To catch up, reminisce, celebrate our accomplishments, mourn our failures. It’s like an annual rejuvenation. And it requires trust and privacy.”
He knew of her trips; she’d gone on one each of the three years she’d lived with him. But he’d thought of them as simple vacations. The way she spoke made them seem almost spiritual.
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