by Tara Lain
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Love in Laguna, book four
Tara Lain
Tara Lain Books
Published by
Tara Lain Books
www.taralain.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Lord of a Thousand Steps © 2020 Tara Lain
Cover Art by Cate Ashwood
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
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Contents
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Note to Readers
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Meet Tara Lain
Books by Tara Lain
Keep Reading for an Exclusive Excerpt of FOOL OF MAIN BEACH
Lord of a Thousand Steps
Love in Laguna, book four
“I’m going to remind you what it’s like to be twenty-one.”
When Ian Carney’s perfect boyfriend turns out to be a rat, and his internship in architecture morphs into an emergency round of babysitting for his gorgeous boss Braden Lord’s kids, Ian gets a dose of real-life real fast.
Braden’s two kids idolize Ian and his cat, and they’re pretty disappointed to find him in their dad’s bed.
But Braden’s ex-wife is delighted to have grounds for sole custody.
Just how much reality can a twenty-one-year old handle?
Still, he might be young, but Ian’s the one with all the experience – in bed and in life. He’s just got to prove he’s serious about wanting an “old guy” with a mountain of baggage -- and he’s willing to take the thousand steps to get him.
LORD OF A THOUSAND STEPS is a MM, age-gap, boss/employee, sexy babysitter, single-dad, late-coming-out, custody battle romance – with the world’s most fabulous cat.
To my darling Todd, who proposed to me at Thousand Steps Beach and has been my Happy Ever After since then!
Note to Readers
Hi and thank you for reading LORD OF A THOUSAND STEPS. If you’ve read any of the other Love in Laguna books, you know that most of the titles refer to actual places in Laguna Beach, CA, a town in which I lived for 28 years. That naming convention is also true for this book. Thousand Steps Beach is a beautiful beach in Laguna with a long staircase leading to it – not a thousand steps, but quite enough to leave most people gasping! As you know if you looked at the dedication in this book, that beach is very special to me because it’s where my soul-mate honey proposed to me a long time ago. When I was looking for a special beach where my hero, Ian, could take his crazy cat, Anderson Cooper, and run into his gorgeous boss, Braden Lord, and his kids, I couldn’t resist Thousand Steps. This book in all its parts is very dear to my heart and I hope you love it!
Prologue
“I’ll miss you so much.” Ian wrapped his arms tighter around Rico’s neck. Don’t care who’s staring. Passengers rushed past them, and one giggled.
“I’ll miss you too.” The dark circles under Rico’s beautiful brown eyes testified to his worry. He usually laughed and joked. Mr. Lighthearted.
Ian held his arms. “You’ll call me as soon as you get there? Let me know how your dad is, okay?”
“I will. I promise.” Rico kissed Ian’s nose. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ll just keep thinking about you waiting for me, and it’ll make everything bearable. Maybe when I get back, we can find that place to move in together.”
Ian’s heart leaped. After three years. Finally. “I’d love that. Should I start looking?”
Rico smiled sadly. “Sure. That’ll help me think happy thoughts.”
“Oh, baby, I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”
“Me too.” He glanced at his watch, then at the board showing departures and arrivals. The Mexico City flight said On Time. “I better go. Remember I love you.”
“I love you too.”
They hugged once more. Then Rico ran to the security line—and was gone.
Chapter One
Ian Carney stared at the computer screen, adjusted the spaces to fit maximum parking in the commercial structure, glanced at his phone, stared back at the parking plan, glanced at his phone—shit! Rico had said he’d confirm the arrival time of his flight from Mexico City. He should be in the air by now. Why hadn’t he texted?
“Hey, Ian, did you calculate the parking spaces?” Max Flynn stuck his bald head around the corner of Ian’s cubicle.
“Almost.” He leaned closer to the screen. Come on, Carney. Think! If Max asked for the plan, it meant Braden Lord needed it. Parking calcs could make or break the profitability of a project. Make the big boss happy.
“You have to be at school today?”
“No. No classes until tomorrow, but I’m supposed to pick someone up at the airport.”
“Orange County?”
“No. LAX.”
Max glanced at his watch. “Man, you’re gonna run into some shitty traffic. You better get going.”
“I’m, uh, waiting for a text to tell me the flight number and time.”
“Good luck. Just get me those calcs ASAP. Braden’s meeting with the client in an hour.”
“Okay, yeah. I’m on it.”
Max turned away, then looked back over his shoulder. “By the way, Carney, your skill with CAD hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice around here. We’re getting more than our money’s worth with you as an intern.”
Ian grinned. “Thanks, but getting your money’s worth wouldn’t be hard.” He held up a hand. “Just joking.”
“Okay, wiseass.” He snorted. “That minimalistic paycheck can be improved.” His smile got sly. “After all, we wouldn’t want some other firm to appreciate your skills more than we do.” He slapped the cubicle wall. “Get me those numbers and hit the freeway.”
“Right away.” Ian’s fingers flew across the keyboard, but not as fast as his heart beat. Getting an employment offer from Lord and Kendrick even before he graduated would mean—everything. One of the top-rated architectural firms in sout
hern California. What a way to start a career. Rico would dance for joy.
Rico. Damn. Ian forced his brain to finish the parking layout. When he finally pushed Print, he let himself look at the phone. Oh. A text.
So sorry. Father taken turn for the worse. Can’t leave yet. Will let you know.
Ian’s mouth opened and closed. Disappointment tightened his throat. Three weeks. Rico’s been gone three weeks and now—longer. Okay, damn, selfish much? Hell, Rico’s dad might be dying. He stared at the text again. Still, Rico hadn’t even said “Love.” Heat pressed behind Ian’s eyes. I so wanted to tell him about the apartments I found. He took a breath. Come on, he’s got heavy shit on his mind. Grow up. Ian grabbed the papers from the printer and headed down the hall.
Smiling at some of the designers and project managers at their high-tech workstations, Ian approached Max’s office and stuck his head in. Nobody. Hayley, Max’s admin, waved from her desk and put her hand over the speaker of the phone she was talking into. “He’s down in Lord’s office, Ian. Are those the calcs they need?”
He nodded.
“Would you mind running them down?” She waggled the phone.
“No problem.” He sure as shit didn’t have anything better to do.
Everybody in the firm—all hundred and twenty-five—knew Braden Lord pretty much kept his office door open, and anyone who needed to go in did. Although lately the office had been closed a lot more, and the boss looked stressed. Rumors said his D-I-V-O-R-C-E, as the old song said, was shredding both his nerves and his bank account.
Ian stopped at the half-open door and knocked.
“Come in.”
Ian pushed the door open. Max sat on one side of Lord’s conference table and Braden Lord on the other, both leaning over a set of renderings. Ian got that little breath hitch and groin tingle that seemed to accompany any Braden sighting. Migh-ty fine. The dude might be past thirty-five, but he rocked sex on the hoof. Dark, auburn-tinged brown hair that never seemed to get cut with any regularity. A tall, slim body that wore clothes idly, like he never thought about what he had on. But the seat of the sex appeal centered inside that brain. Vision, innovation, an almost shocking grasp of three-dimensional space, and a take on the world Ian wanted to eat with ice cream. Lord’s business partner, Doug Kendrick, brought the economic sense and contract negotiation skills, but the heart of what clients from across the world bought lived in that handsome, oddly naïve head.
Lord glanced up, his eyes unfocused, his consciousness probably still focused on that site plan. But like mist clearing on the mountains, he seemed to home in on Ian. He cocked his head, and his tongue slowly wet his lips.
Ian shivered.
Max smiled. “Hey, Ian, thanks a lot, buddy. You’re just in time to save our bacon. Did you get it parked?”
“Yes, sir. Five cars per thousand, like you asked.”
Max nodded and looked toward Lord, but Lord still stared at Ian. “Braden?”
Lord blinked and turned to Max, his eyes trailing a little behind. “That’s great. Perfect. Thank you.”
“Braden, you’ve met Ian Carney, right? Our intern?”
Lord blinked again. “Oh, yes. Ian.”
Ian smiled and extended his hand. Lord took it and for a second just held it, then shook. After a hard swallow, Ian laughed. “Ian Carney and Braden Lord. We sound like we’re trying out for a Highlander remake.”
Lord looked blank for a second, then barked a laugh. “Yes, if we count in Dougall Kendrick, we’ve got the whole cast.”
Max pointed out something to Lord on the printouts, and Ian tried not to stare at Braden. C’mon, man, you’ve got a boyfriend. No drooling over the nice architect. Besides, if Ian’s brother Jim thought Rico was too old for him, this dude would qualify as ancient—and he was straight. Although Ian had heard rumors—
Max looked up at Ian. “Really nice work, Carney. You better take off for the airport.”
“Oh, thanks, but, uh, my pickup got canceled. I mean, I don’t have to pick him up anymore. He had to stay in Mexico City.”
“Well, hell, man, he didn’t exactly give you a lot of notice. What if you’d cancelled a hot date or something?” Max laughed.
Ian shuffled his feet. Awkward much? “Not likely. He’s my boyfriend. I mean, his dad is real sick, and I guess he took a turn for the worse.”
“Oh hell, I’m sorry.” Max glanced at Lord. “Hey, a bunch of us are going over to Antonio’s for drinks in about an hour with some clients. Why don’t you join us?”
Lord’s eyes widened, but not more than Ian’s.
Holy shit! “Uh, thanks a lot, but I’m afraid Antonio’s is a little rich for my scholarship budget. I really appreciate being asked, though.”
“The company would pay, Ian. Why don’t you come? I’m sure the client would like to see the kind of talent we’re nurturing at Lord and Kendrick.”
“Wow.” He sucked wind, then laughed. “Well, that was plain uncool. Sorry. Uh, thank you. I’d love to.” He looked down at his jeans, T-shirt and sports coat. “Am I—?”
Max waved. “You’re fine. You’ll fit right in.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Meet us in the lobby in an hour.”
“I will. Thanks again.” He practically genuflected on his way out the door. Talk about scared shitless! But man, what an opportunity. He hurried back to his desk without actually running and flopped in his chair. Pulling out his phone, he texted Just got asked to drinks with the clients by the big bosses. Cool shit. So very sorry about your dad. Hope he recovers fast. Miss you terrible. Love.
Braden ran a finger down the list of parking calculations, surveyed the plan, and worked at ignoring the half-mast woody in his pants. “This is good work. Didn’t you have Melissa on this project?”
Max nodded. “Yeah, but Leo needed her on Artisan Village, and besides, she hates parking plans and was screwing it up royally. I decided to try Ian on it.”
“An intern?” He shook his head. “It was fucking hard to get all those cars in that screwed-over space the developer handed us.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What made you think this kid could do it?”
“He reminds me of you.”
Braden raised an eyebrow. “Why? Because he’s gay?”
Max chuckled. “You know, how you can look at a plan and it comes to life. It’s like you can walk into imaginary buildings in your mind and see how they all fit together. I see that in Carney.”
“He’s really young.”
“Hell, so are you.”
Braden blew out his breath. “But aging fast.”
Max put a big hand on Braden’s shoulder. Braden wanted to lean into it and soak up its warmth. He didn’t get touched much—by adults. The phone in his pocket buzzed, and his whole body froze. He looked at the screen and sighed.
Max frowned. “Shall I go?”
“No. It’s my lawyer. Just be a minute.” He clicked. “Yeah, Perce?”
“I’ve got the next meeting scheduled for Monday. Does that work?”
“Yeah. I can make it work.”
“I can’t lie, man. They’re going for blood. She wants to prove that, as a single gay man, you won’t have a fit environment for raising children.”
He sprang out of his chair and stalked to the wall. “Shit, she doesn’t want those kids. She never liked having them most of the time. I thought I was married to the fucking nanny.” Might as well have been for all the sex they’d had—thank God.
“Yes, well, she’ll get a bigger settlement based on the level of custody she can secure.”
“I’ll give her the money. You know I want the kids.”
“Be careful, Braden. The more she thinks she can get, the more she’ll demand. If she can find a judge sympathetic to her case, the fact that she doesn’t own any company stock may not matter. In a community property state, she could compromise the firm.”
“Isn’t it illegal to discriminate?” He le
aned his head against the wall. Tempted to bash it in.
“Yes, but no one ever admits they’re discriminating. It’s always ‘for the good of the children.’”
“Jesus, how did I get so dumb?”
“Denial’s a powerful thing, my friend.”
“Yeah. Okay, I’ll see you Monday. I’ve got the kids this weekend, and I don’t want to fuck up their fun.”
“Enjoy the beach.”
He hung up, sucked wind, and carefully laid the phone on the conference table so he didn’t throw it against the wall.
Max grimaced. “I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this.”
Braden sat slowly. “If I’d just come out when I suspected my passions didn’t run to girls, maybe I’d actually be happy. But then I wouldn’t have Jo-Jo and Mireille.” He ran a hand through his choppy hair. “Let’s get this presentation over with. I need a drink.”
Two hours later, he jiggled the ice in his glass and sucked back another slug of Scotch. He didn’t much like the stuff, but it took the edge off his anger and frustration faster than most other drinks. He let his eyes wander over the rim of the glass as he drank. Three of their new clients plus one attractive guy from the client’s ad agency and six or seven of his staff were all mingling in the far end of Antonio’s, an upscale restaurant/lounge near their office where they often hung out. Most of the attendees, minus the clients, were his regulars. Max, his managing director and right arm, Doug, his chief operating officer, the CDO, or goddess of design as they called Shirin, and a few others. One notable addition. The kid, Ian, stood out like a shiny dime in a pocket full of old quarters. Tall, barely filled-out postadolescence, dirty-blond hair well past his ears, and some throbbing sex appeal that didn’t quite go with his boyish charm. Shit. Gorgeous. If I don’t stop staring, there have to be laws in six states out to get me.
