by Stacy Lane
He flagged down a guy he had been talking to earlier. Nick introduced them. Luis grinned at me and warned Alex I may never return to his side after he finished teaching me to salsa.
Luis was a great dancer, suave and very handsome, but he wasn’t my guy. After multiple songs and grinning so hard my face hurt, I did return to Alex’s side.
My short dress rode higher up my thighs as I sat.
Alex spread his legs and cradled mine between his. The room was full of loud music and drunk Cubans.
The dance livened me up and turned me on. The latter was Alex, not Luis. Alex drilled his heavy gaze into mine from his spot at the table as he watched me move.
“You trusted me enough to dance with another man,” I breathe the words into Alex’s ear. His arms drape the back of my chair and along the table.
“I’m not a saint, sunshine. Luis’s hands were traveling too low for my liking, but I could see how bad you wanted to dance. I know who you’re with, and it ain’t him.”
Another inch and I might as well climb in his lap. But I stay in my seat, leaning in and running my hand over his leg.
“It’s going to take a long time to break the habits Vic instilled in me.” Alex knew those quirks. I apologized when it wasn’t my fault, and I always assumed I was in the wrong. “But with you, I can see that end. You don’t know what that feels like for someone like me, Alex.”
It goes beyond hope. Hope keeps a person moving and dreaming of one day.
One day, I’ll find happiness.
One day, someone will love me.
One day, I will accept I’m perfect the way I am.
Alex is that day. A day filled with many more days.
“Chelsea, I need to ask you something.” Alex’s brows lower, a crease forming in his forehead.
“Okay.”
“Can you be happy and start over with me knowing he’s going to be nearby?”
“I don’t have much of choice, do I? He’s not going anywhere for awhile. And I won’t let him take anything else from me. I want to be with you.” Alex swallow and nods. “Isn’t that what you want too?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“I do worry he’ll cause you trouble.”
“Yeah, that’s only a matter of time.” His voice carries a hint of recognition.
“So now I have to ask. Can you be happy with me if Vic interferes with your fresh start?” It’s been a fast and fun week of dating, but these big questions were making me nervous.
“For two years I haven’t been sure of anything. Until you.”
There goes that damn coyote again, blowing up my insides.
“Take me home, Alex.”
“How much longer is this party supposed to last?”
“They’re Spanish. It’ll go all night.”
Alex stands, taking ahold of my hand. Before we can make an escape, a gorgeous dark-haired woman jumps in front of us.
“Yo, lovebirds. Are you Chelsea?”
“Yes.”
The tall, curvy woman stuns us with her beauty and shocks us with her crazy eyes. To be specific, nothing is actually wrong with her eyes. Unless you stare at them too long because I’m convinced she might be a little psychotic.
“Great. I’m on roundup duty for the bridesmaids, and the bridezilla is calling.” She bobs her head, but it’s unclear what direction she’s indicating.
Being one of Taytum’s bridesmaids, I can confidently say she has not been a bridezilla so far. And tonight was supposed to be a big party. I’m not sure what we’re needed for.
“Oh. We were about to leave…”
“If I can’t leave, you can’t leave.” She latches onto my wrist.
I glance at Alex.
“I’ll find Brooks. Go.” He smirks as the brazen woman drags me away.
We find Taytum with Jo and another girl I’ve never met. Taytum looks to be having a good time by the way she sways and is hanging onto her fiancé.
“Got the last one.” My fellow bridesmaid lifts the arm latched in her strong grip into the air with hers.
“Jesus, Amada. She’s not cattle,” Taytum pipes back, slurring some.
“Funny. That’s how I just described the task of finding your friends.”
I quickly join Jo, in safety.
“Then that would make you one of the cows.”
Amada bites out something in Spanish, which Taytum can’t understand. Nick can, however, and throws more uninterpretable words back at her. Taytum seems unbothered as if this is a normal conversation for them.
“Is that Nick’s sister?” I ask Jo quietly.
“Cousin.”
“And she’s one of Taytum’s bridesmaids?”
“Yeah, but they’re friends too.” Jo chuckles at my bewildered look. “This happens all the time. Amada is…a lot to handle, but she’s fiercely loyal to Taytum.”
“If you say so,” I mumble. “So what are we up here for?”
We were standing next to the DJ’s setup. Luis mentioned during our dance that the DJ was his cousin. I was convinced everyone here was related in one way or another, but not all of them could possibly be first cousins. Maybe it was just easier to use that kinship moniker.
“Games.”
“Oh, fun!” I bounced with excitement while staring at Jo’s sour face.
“Taytum promised no games,” she grumbled.
“There’s always games at these types of celebrations.”
“Yeah, but do you see the number of people here? I don’t want to be the center of attention for all of those eyes.”
“C’mon, Jo. Your best friend only gets married once.”
“God, I hope that’s true. No one other than Nick will put up with her, which means I’ll be responsible for her forever.”
“The games are more triggered for the couple, anyway. You will be fine.”
I should have kept my mouth shut. If I never get married again, Jo will not be there to take care of me forever.
Where a few of the games were for the newly engaged couple, most involved all of the bridal party. And tequila shots. Lots and lots of shots. These people partied on a whole other level.
Jo and I stumbled back to our brothers. Brother lovers. Labelle lovers. Lovers. Our lovers who are brothers.
Words are not connecting how I prefer them to.
I lean heavily on Alex as we leave the party. Nick’s family is still going hard inside, and it’s two in the morning.
The car ride back to my apartment is quiet. I watch Alex as he drives and sings along to Johnny Cash and Hank Williams and Waylon Jennings. I began to drift off not long into the ride. His voice deep and sultry.
I was a little more awake by the time we made it to the elevator in my building. Awake enough to hang all over Alex and make out Fifty Shades elevator scene worthy.
“Stay the night with me,” I whisper, walking backward with his arms circled low around my waist. The halls are silent, echoing with the sound of our footsteps. “I’m too tired for what I’ve been patiently waiting to do with you, but please just stay and sleep beside me.”
“You never have to explain why you want me with you. I’ll stay.”
Alex lets us inside my place, locking up right away. I head straight for the bathroom, washing my face and throwing my dress in the hamper. I step into my bedroom in nothing but the red bra and panties. Fatigue weighs heavy enough that I don’t bother changing into my pajamas.
At the foot of my bed, Alex removes his clothing. I sway side to side as I watch each layer be removed.
“I set a glass of water on your nightstand. Drink up.”
I guzzle all of it by the time he’s in nothing but his boxer briefs.
Climbing into the bed, I’m on my hands and knees as I pull back the covers. It would have been easier had I done this part before crawling onto the mattress, but I don’t have it all together right now.
“Jesus, sunshine. You’re killing me. Get under the covers already,” Alex growls.
G
lancing behind me, I find him standing right behind my ass.
I tumble beneath the blankets with a grin.
When we’re both tucked under, and the light is out, I’m curled into his side, running my fingers up and down the ripples in his stomach.
“Alex, can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
I bite my lip with happiness. I love that I don’t have to worry about being curious with him. My inquiries never result in his impatience.
“Will you ever tell your family about Elle?”
He takes a long, deep breath of air. “I know I should.”
“Is there more to the story of why you haven’t?”
“Yes.”
I wish I could see his face. But after he starts talking, I know the dark room is the only reason he tells me the rest of the story.
“I was here a lot when we first bought the bar. It wasn’t much longer after that I was approached for the GM position. Elle thought I’d take her with me to Florida. At first, I was going to. I was preparing myself to have a conversation with my family that Elle and I were back together. But I kept holding off, and eventually I realized even this second time around, she was only with me for the position. The money, the fame. Elle saw I was about to end it. She knew it was inevitable. But then…”
“Tell me,” I whisper with encouragement.
“She said she was pregnant.”
My heart kicked. My hand stalled, flattening against his chest.
“For a brief moment, I was myself again. I didn’t hate the life I was living after my career ended. The thought of a baby—even with a woman I didn’t love—was enough to pull me out of the shallowness I’d been in. Elle had a sonogram of her first checkup. She said it was early, but they were able to get a picture. A picture is all the proof you’d think you’d need right?”
“She lied?” I asked with horror.
“Yep. Turns out Elle thought she’d have enough time for me to actually get her pregnant between then and the move.”
“How’d you find out she was faking it?”
“She was having awful morning sickness.” Alex laughs as an afterthought, incredulous at the extent this woman went. “I called the doctor. She had their card in her purse. I wanted to find out if there were anything I could give her that would help. They said they had no record of Elle coming in for a checkup. They pressed how important prenatal care was for a pregnant woman.”
My heart warmed at hearing how attentive Alex was to a woman he didn’t love but took care of anyway.
She didn’t deserve him. I’m hurt enough for him that he had to go through that, but it was a blessing she never had the opportunity to get pregnant for real.
“I thought maybe she was going to a different doctor. I gave her the benefit of the doubt even though my gut knew from the second they said she hadn’t been there that she was lying. I insisted we go to the doctor together. She tried getting out of it. Didn’t take her long to break after that.”
“What about the sonogram?”
“She bought it online.”
“Oh my God. She’s…I have no words for her.”
“Elle’s not worth it anyway.”
I sat up, leaning over part of him with my leg draped over his. Touching his face, stroking his cheek with the backs of my fingers, I say, “I think you should tell your family. Your brothers at least.”
“I will.”
“Good.” Dropping my mouth to his, I kiss his lips softly. He parts his mouth open. His tongue reaches out to swipe along my teeth.
Alex rolls me over, moving his body on top of mine. He balances above me, kissing me hard and tangling his hands in my wild curls. I glide my touch down his sides, lifting one leg. He sinks between my legs, grinding his cock into my parted thighs. I feel him as he hardens. Moaning when he’s fully erect, and the solid shaft hits me at an angle that shoots spasms through my belly.
My palm slips beneath his boxers, cupping his tight, firm butt cheek.
Alex’s mouth latches onto my boob, sucking on my nipple through the red lace. When he bites down, I dig my nails into his skin. He hisses in pleasure.
“I want to be inside you.” Alex dips a finger between my folds.
“Yes. Please,” I beg.
“I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
“Me either. Just you, Alex.”
“Then I want to be inside you with nothing between us. I need to feel you wrapped around me.”
I moan, nodding. Then I realize he probably can’t see that. “Yes. Right now.”
Alex pulls back on his knees. He peels my panties down my legs and then off, his boxers following right after.
I feel him between my legs, guiding himself inside.
“Oh,” I moan for a long time as he presses in. Alex talks into my ear. His grunts of satisfaction stir me to spread wider and hitching my legs over his hips.
“Chelsea,” he says and continues to repeat with fast and strong pumps.
Alex doesn’t let up until I’m panting from orgasm number one and screaming so loud after number two that poor old Elise next door just might reconsider moving into the retirement home.
CHAPTER 24
CHELSEA
“WHAT ARE YOU doing?”
I jump at the sound of Alex’s voice, nearly dropping the pickle jar gripped in both hands.
He stands at the entrance of the kitchen. His presence alone is comforting after the day I’ve had. Well, morning really. The rest of my day has been productive.
I hadn’t planned on working at Alex’s today. I was taking on other clients, overloading my schedule. Too much, to be honest, but I liked it. I’d rather have too much to do than nothing at all.
As it was turning out, my clientele was dwindling fast. A rush of new proposals came all at once. Majority of them specifically said they heard about me doing work with Alex Labelle. Then they began dropping me. Turning up their rich, snobby noses at my style, or lack thereof as a few made a point of telling me.
Not much got me down. I could bounce back as if Lebron was handling the ball. But it was becoming daunting with so many people having the same discouraging viewpoint of my work.
After the meeting, I had this morning with a potential client did not go well—and that’s putting it lightly—I drove over to Alex’s house to work on something I knew was being appreciated.
Then again, he is my boyfriend so…
“Do you honestly like the work I’ve done with your home?” I twist the jar, finding it too tight still.
Pop-pop-turn.
“Yes,” he replies. He doesn’t sound too sure, but he is also watching me like a lunatic. “Let me open that.”
“No, I can handle it.” My words are strained as I turn the lid again. Finally, it gives and pops open.
“Why do you ask?”
I sigh after crunching on the delicious dill. The jar sits open on the island, a few droplets of pickle juice sprinkled on the countertop. I’m a classy gal and a real catch.
“Some people haven’t hired me because they don’t like my style.”
“How many are some?” Alex tears off a napkin, wiping up the mess I left on the granite.
“One or two.” Again, putting it lightly.
“One or two, huh.” His sharp gaze zeros in on me.
I shrug and bob my head and twiddle my fingers. All at the same time.
“Chelsea.”
I take another bite to avoid talking.
“I finished your office,” I say.
He pauses. I’m not ready to tell him about this morning. He’s going to lose his freaking mind. And I would prefer to keep spending our time together outside of…let’s say…prison.
“Show me,” he says.
I take a glance at my watch. “Five more minutes. Marcus was putting the last touches on something.”
“Speaking of Marcus. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you stealing my assistant.”
I laugh nervously. That is precisel
y what I’ve been doing. “I have not stolen him.”
“Not yet. But you’re poaching.”
“He’s here all the time. Why can’t we share?”
“Because I’m paying him.”
“Well, I’ll start paying him for my time too.”
“That’s poaching!” Alex hollers while laughing.
“He gets me.” I slide up next to him, looping my arms around his back. “It’s so hard to find that in an assistant.”
Alex sighs. “We have to work out a schedule then.”
I grin at hearing him cave.
A throat clears.
“Are you discussing custody over me?” Marcus thrusts a hand on his hip, taking on a menacing stare through his clear glasses and bright purple shirt. So scary.
“Yes. Chelsea and I were thinking to use your skills. Only while she’s working on my house.”
My mouth drops. That’s not cool.
Marcus drops the facade, clapping his hands. “I so want to be your child of divorce.”
“Our what?” Alex sputters.
“Sorry, Marcus. Dad doesn’t speak millennial.” I smile at Alex, stroking my fingers through his scalp.
“And you two don’t look divorced,” Marcus says. “Whatevs. I’m all for being adopted.”
“This conversation went entirely somewhere else,” Alex mumbles.
Marcus grabs his shoulder book bag from one of the chairs. “The office is ready for show. I have to get to my afternoon class. Bye, bossman. Bye, boss lady.”
Taking Alex’s hand, I drag him out of the kitchen and down the hall that separates from all other rooms. Finishing his office was not in my schedule for today, but once my morning went to crap I needed something to do to occupy my mind. I still had a couple clients besides Alex. Their projects were small and didn’t pay much. I was happy for the work, though. My blog was taking off well even if the events of this week were crashing and burning.
It was accounts like Alex’s that would keep me afloat. Large interior design projects where I worked with contractors challenged me in a way I found exhausting and exciting. The income showed me I could really do this on my own. I could stay in Tampa.
