by Adrian, Lara
“I’d love to.”
~ ~ ~
The youth recreation center is an impressive community campus situated on a residential block in the heart of Chelsea.
Although it’s clear the beautifully designed complex is relatively new construction, the grounds are bursting with mature shade trees, lush green spaces, and plantings abloom with a rainbow of summery flowers. A group of boys are playing basketball on one of the outdoor courts. In another area of the sun-filled yard, a Tai Chi instructor leads a class of young people through a series of fluid, meditative moves.
“What an amazing place,” I remark as Jared parks the Aston Martin in the side lot of the large, inviting brick-and-glass building at the heart of the property.
He nods. “Wait until you see the inside.”
With his hand resting warmly at the small of my back, he walks me to the building’s entrance. Beneath our feet in the spacious lobby, gleaming tilework is inlaid with an inspiring quote about overcoming adversity. Above our heads in the soaring rafters, colorful kites give the impression of open sails carrying us somewhere exciting and full of promise. A cheerful, welcoming children’s mural knits the entire room together with hand-painted, random vignettes of nature, friendship, and community, obviously created by an army of small hands.
I glance at Jared and find him watching me. “Is this something that came out of your art project?”
“No. That’s all Nick. He had a vision for what he wanted this center to be. True to form, he exceeded it.”
I nod in agreement. “It’s magical.”
The sound of an opening door to our right draws our attention. A stunning blond in slim-fitting beige jeans, flats, and a crisp white blouse steps into the lobby, her smile as bright as a ray of sunshine.
“Jared, there you are!” Her megawatt smile grows even warmer as she approaches us. “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”
“I didn’t get your text until we’d touched down after a day out at Sagg.”
“You were out at the studio?” At his nod, her curious gaze flicks toward me for an instant. “Well, I’m glad you came. Both of you.”
Emerging right behind her is an arrestingly handsome man in dark suit pants and rolled-up shirtsleeves. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, a dark-haired force of nature with eyes the color of tropical blue water. Although I’ve never met Avery Ross or Dominic Baine, their energy alone leaves no doubt who this power couple is.
“This is Melanie Laurent,” Jared says, making introductions as he and Nick shake hands and Avery greets me with a hug as if we’re already friends.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell them.
Avery smiles. “You, too, Melanie. I understand you’re friends with Evelyn Beckham.”
I’m not sure how she knows that, but I suspect the brief look exchanged between Jared and Nick helps explain it. “Eve’s my best friend. We’ve known each other for years.”
“Then you probably know she’s designing the lingerie for my upcoming wedding and honeymoon in a few months.”
I nod. “I’ve seen some of the pieces. They’re absolutely gorgeous.”
“They are. Eve’s designs have blown me away.” She gives me a conspiratorial smile. “I have photos from our last fitting on my phone, if you’d like to see them.”
“Hold on,” Nick interrupts, one black brow winging up. “Why have I not seen these photos?”
Avery pivots toward him, placing her palm on his chest. The huge diamond on her engagement ring catches the light, sparkling like a star on her finger. “If you see them before our wedding night, it’ll ruin the surprise.”
He makes a low, appreciative sound in the back of his throat. “Seeing them early won’t ruin a thing for me. I’ll still be the lucky bastard who gets them off you.”
Their heat is almost palpable. So is the depth of their love. It radiates between them as they look at each other, a thousand silent promises in that brief moment their eyes hold.
At my side, I feel Jared’s hand brush mine. That subtle stroke of his fingers is our own private communication. That’s all it takes for my senses to quicken, every fiber of me tuned solely to him. When I glance over and meet his gaze, the connection sends a spiral of longing through me.
“Have you been to the rec center before, Melanie?” Avery asks, her attention returned to me.
“Um, no. This is my first time.”
“Then, follow me. Nick and I will give you a tour on our way to the art center.”
The four of us set off together, Avery leading the way and pointing out all of the fascinating details and thoughtfulness that went into the facility’s design.
“Nick wanted to create a true gathering place for the kids of the community,” she tells us as we progress from one end of the modern, beautifully laid out building to the other. “The goal was to offer not only a place for them to come and relax or exercise their bodies, minds, and imagination, but also provide a safe shelter for the ones with nowhere else to go.”
I nod, awestruck by the care that went into every aspect of the center, from the motivational words of encouragement and strength that decorates each room and common area, to the spare-no-expense equipment and supplies.
“I grew up dirt-poor,” Nick adds, a surprising statement coming from a man who built one of the most formidable business empires in the country, if not the world. “For kids like me, having somewhere to go, somewhere safe, could’ve meant the difference between having a reason to live or just praying to make it out of a bad situation alive.”
I remember that Jared explained his feelings regarding the center’s role in similar terms. I could tell then that he was reflecting on his own past, too. He’s gone still beside me while his friend speaks, and I wonder how much these two powerful, wealthy men had to overcome to get where they are now.
I sense it took some courage for Dominic Baine to reveal this much of his personal life and struggles, particularly to me, someone he doesn’t know. I don’t have to wonder where he gets his strength.
Avery gives him a gentle, yet proud look. “And now you’ve given that chance to hundreds of kids, Nick. You’re making a big difference, not just here with this first center, but with all the others you’ve built since.”
Jared nods. “I think it’s a great idea to expand the concept nationally. Hell, take it worldwide.”
Avery’s blond brows lift. “Does that mean you’re ready to sign on to help bring art programs to all our centers?”
He chuckles. “Like I’ve told you, I’m on board for whatever funding or advice you need. You want additional artists to commit to lectures and instruction? I’ll make it happen for you.”
“There’s one artist in particular who’s proving to be quite the challenge,” Avery replies, slanting him a wry look. Then she glances at me. “I’ve been working on him for months, trying to persuade him to come in and teach sometime. We have some really gifted students in the classes, and I think they could learn a lot from Jared. Besides, the kids adore him.”
“I’m not surprised.” I glance at him, unable to curb the warmth I feel toward him.
I’m not about to comment on the idea of Jared instructing a class. As wonderful as I think he’d be, I won’t add to the tension I feel coming off him right now. He’s obviously close to Nick and Avery, but I know they’re unaware of the neurological disease he’s been grappling with the past couple of years.
It’s a secret he entrusted to me, and I’ll keep it for him as long as he wants me to.
I’ll protect it, and him.
I know he hears that promise, even though I don’t speak it aloud. Our hands brush again, and this time he threads his fingers through mine.
“Let’s have a look at the new classroom equipment,” he says, his deep voice casual and nonchalant, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to be holding my hand in front of his friends.
We follow Nick and Avery to a large art classroom that’s currently in use by
a dozen teenage kids. Bright and spacious, it’s set up with easels and workstations for twice as many students, with skylights overhead and lots of windows providing beautiful natural light.
The kids aren’t painting today, but are instead raptly listening and watching a tattooed female artist who’s demonstrating how she works with metal sculpture.
Avery signals to the instructor with a friendly wave. “Sorry to interrupt, Lita.”
“No problem,” she says, setting down the piece of hammered metal she was displaying for the class. “We were just about to break for a few minutes, anyway.”
Some of the kids file out as we step inside, offering smiles and chatty greetings to Avery, Nick, and Jared. I’m a bit taken aback when one of the girls in the class, a petite, curvy brunette with big doe eyes and a sweet, crooked smile walks straight up to Jared and wraps her arms around him.
Immediately, I recognize the affectionate embrace is simply that. Jared chuckles, releasing my hand to return the girl’s brief hug.
“Hey, Alyssa. What’d I do to deserve this?”
When she draws away from him, tears shimmer in her eyes. “The restraining order was approved. I just found out around an hour ago. Chad isn’t allowed to come anywhere near me again or I can have him arrested.”
“That’s great news.”
She sniffles, giving him a jerky nod. “Thank you for doing it for me. If you hadn’t helped me through all the legal stuff, Chad and his stupid friends might’ve never left me alone.”
“No.” Jared rests his hands on her shoulders, looking at her intently. “You understand it wasn’t me who made this happen, right? It was you. It took real guts, Alyssa. I’m proud of you.”
She hugs him again as if she just can’t help herself. Belatedly, she notices me standing beside Jared and gives me a shy smile.
“This is Melanie,” he says. “Melanie, this is Alyssa.”
I smile back at her. “Hi, Alyssa. Jared tells me you’re a wonderful artist.”
“He said that?”
“Yes, he did. He also said he thinks you have a great future ahead of you.”
She glances at him, then smiles down at her weathered sneakers for a moment. “Okay. Well, I gotta go get some water before the class starts again. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Good kid,” Nick says after she’s gone.
“They all are,” Avery adds. “All they need is a chance, and someone to show they truly care, that they can be trusted.”
“Isn’t that what we all need?” I ask, my gaze returning to Jared.
He nods, but doesn’t speak, his expression pensive and somehow distant.
In silence, he takes my hand again as Avery and Nick bring us into the art room to review the newly arrived equipment and supplies.
28
MELANIE
After an amazing day spent with Jared, and a restless night alone in my bed at home, I’m practically giddy when he calls me at work the next day to invite me out for dinner.
Rather than going somewhere trendy or exclusive on a busy Friday night in the city, he surprises me with an intimate rooftop table at a quiet little French restaurant in the Meatpacking District. We spend three unhurried hours talking and laughing over five delicious courses and a dessert of chocolate soufflé that’s so heavenly it makes me moan almost as blissfully as I do for the impossibly sexy man seated across from me.
As far as perfect evenings go, I’m hard-pressed to think of anywhere I’d rather be than caught in the smoldering, fathomless heat of Jared’s eyes. If I’ve tried to stop myself from falling for him, I realize now that there’s no use in denying it.
I’m already halfway in love with him.
More, my reckless heart corrects.
And if being together feels so right, so effortlessly natural, this soon, I can only guess at how good things between us have yet to be.
Jared pays for dinner, then leads me out to his car waiting with the curbside valet. A nod and a large tip pressed into the attendant’s palm sends the young man away. Jared opens the passenger door for me, but I’m not ready to get in yet.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him right where we stand, a soft summer breeze stirring the skirt of my red dress and the sounds of the city buzzing all around us.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his lips. “Not just for dinner tonight, but for yesterday at the beach and at the community center . . . for all of it, Jared.”
His mouth curves, his dark eyes so tender on me it sends a pang of yearning straight to my soul. It’s not only his body I crave right now, but this—the connection I feel toward him when he looks at me, as if I’m the only woman in the world.
The only one for him.
There is a part of me that’s desperate to believe that.
If I’m only imagining our bond—or worse, if it’s only me who’s feeling it so profoundly—I don’t want to consider how much it will break me if I’m the only one falling.
“You belong to me,” he says, his deep voice vibrating with solemnity as well as demand. “You’re mine now, Melanie.”
Maybe he senses the fear bubbling up inside me, the uncertainty that I can trust everything I’m feeling. Maybe he reads it in my eyes. God knows he’s been able to tune in to my feelings, good and bad, ever since we met.
His gaze burns into mine. “Let me hear you say it.”
“I am,” I whisper, barely staving off the emotion that swells inside me. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, and with no one else, Jared. I’m yours.”
Pulling me into his arms, he kisses me with a sweetness that rocks me even more than the explosive passion I know he’s capable of. I sway against him on the sidewalk as he holds me, our bodies moving in a slow rhythm all our own.
A low, rolling sound builds in his chest, somewhat like a purr. “I love the way you feel like this in my arms. I should take you dancing sometime.”
“I’d like that.” I lift my head and smile at him. “How about now?”
“Tonight?” He chuckles. “I had a different kind of dancing in mind, Ms. Laurent.”
He kisses the tip of my nose, and even that sweet gesture stirs a growing heat inside me.
“I do like how you think, Mr. Rush, and I intend to take you up on that very enticing offer. But first, I want you to take me dancing.” I look at him from under my lashes. “As I recall, there’s a hot new nightclub not far from here.”
He frowns. “Muse?” He shakes his head. “There are plenty of other places I’d rather bring you. Muse is for a different crowd, not you.”
Grinning at his sudden uncomfortableness, I give him an arch look. “Are you afraid I’ll ask you to take me into one of your VIP rooms?”
He stills. “Is that what you want?” His voice is gravel, dark interest flaring in his serious gaze.
“I want you, Jared.” I trace my finger along his beard-shadowed jawline. “I want all of you tonight, even your wildest side.”
His answering growl is pure animal. I love it. I also love the heat I see in his gaze, so blistering it practically melts my panties off my body.
“I’ll give you anything you need, Melanie. All you ever have to do is ask.” He kisses me again, his mouth carnal and possessive. It’s a wonder my knees don’t crumble beneath me. His big hand palms a handful of my ass. “You want to go dancing? Get in the car, baby.”
He speeds us to the packed club, parking in a reserved space near the door. Music throbs from inside, strobe lights flashing behind the top-floor windows of the multi-story building.
Jared links his fingers through mine as he smoothly leads me past the beefy bouncers checking IDs at the entrance. The men greet their boss with friendly deference, giving me respectful nods of acknowledgment as we pass.
Once we’re inside, Jared pulls one of his staff aside and tells the muscular man in the dark suit to prepare the owner’s suite for us. I probably should feel embarrassed by the request, but all I feel is excited.
And so in love with Jared Rush it makes my heart feel as though it wants to leap out of my chest.
“Come with me,” he says, bringing me out to the crowded dance floor.
The song pouring out of the sound system is a slow, sexy one. Jared pulls me against him and cages me there with his arm around my back. The feel of his hard body pressed to my curves ignites every nerve ending, all of that hot energy pulsing in time with the music.
“This was a great idea,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear. “You feel so good in my arms, and you’re fucking scorching in that dress. I’m the envy of every man in here.”
“You say the most charming things, Mr. Rush. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were just trying to get under my skirt.”
He chuckles, the dark, rich sound of it vibrating deliciously everywhere we touch. “Oh, I have every intention of doing that. But I’m serious, too. I’ve been wanting to feel you dancing against me since the night I saw you on this dance floor.”
Confusion scrapes through my rising desire. “I was only here one time, a few weeks ago with my friends.” Although he continues to hold me, his body still swaying against mine, I sense an edge of tension in the muscles that surround me. I draw back. “Were you here that night, too?”
He’s silent for a moment. Something in his eyes makes my pulse race. He shrugs, but the movement seems anything but nonchalant. “Muse had only been open for a week. I was here every night making sure operations went smoothly.”
“Jared,” I say, expelling a confused laugh. “Why didn’t you ever mention to me that you saw me?”
I’ve never seen this utterly confident man look uncertain until now. “I’m sorry.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I guess it just never came up.”
And just like that, I am jolted back to a different moment, with a different man.
Daniel said something similar when I questioned him about his gambling, the secret he’d been keeping from me for the entirety of our months-long relationship.
