Come Away With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “I didn’t chase her off,” I growl.

  “How do you know her?” Isaac asks as he also joins us.

  “Jesus, don’t you all have anything better to do?”

  “Than nose into your personal life?” Will asks and shakes his head as he stuffs some appetizers into his mouth. “No way.”

  “She’s just someone I met a few weeks ago.”

  “You like her,” Isaac comments.

  “What are you, a girl?” I smirk and glance over at Brynna, who is laughing at something Jules just said. “Are we going to talk about our feelings now?”

  “This is a wedding, dude,” Will replies. “Feelings are running rampant around here.”

  “Well, in that case, now’s as good a time as any to give a toast.”

  And get your focus off of me, for fuck’s sake.

  I walk to the center of the yard and motion to Alecia, who speaks into her wrist, and magically, the music hushes.

  “Okay, everyone, it’s time for a toast,” I announce in a loud voice. Everyone turns to me, and I tuck one hand in my pocket and shift awkwardly.

  I’ve never been comfortable being the center of attention. That’s Will’s job.

  “First, I want to say congratulations to both of you.” I turn my eyes to Caleb as he stands behind his bride and wraps his arms around her waist with his chin resting on her shoulder. “You each went through your own private hell to get where you are. To find each other. And, honestly, I can’t think of two people who deserve to be happy more than you.”

  Brynna’s eyes fill with tears, but I keep going.

  “Brynna, you’ve been a part of our family for a while now. I know that I’ve thought of you as a sister for quite some time. Your daughters, despite being little extortionists, are beautiful and wonderful, just like their mother. You have the strength and humor to put up with this sometimes overwhelming family, and we love you. It’s my pleasure to officially welcome you to our family.”

  There are whoops and hollers as everyone applauds. When the noise dies, I continue.

  “Caleb, you’re not just my little brother. You’re my best friend.”

  “Hey!” Will interrupts, but I ignore him and continue.

  “You’re here, whole and healthy, thank God, because you were meant to make Brynna and her girls yours. I believe that. I’m just glad you pulled your head out of your ass and realized it yourself.”

  “Love you, too, bro,” he replies softly.

  “You’re my hero,” I tell him earnestly and with a strong voice. Our brothers and Jules all nod and murmur in agreement. “So, to Brynna and Caleb.” I raise my water, and everyone follows suit. “May you always be as happy as you are today.”

  “Here, here!” our father exclaims.

  “And now for the gifts!” Jules announces and claps her hands.

  Dom steps forward with a grin. It’s still surreal to look at him and know that he’s my brother. Where the rest of us are all fair, with blond to dark blond hair, Dom is dark, with black hair. But he shares our blue eyes.

  “You know that I own a villa in Tuscany,” he begins. Brynna’s eyes widen, and Caleb laughs. “I’d like for you to spend two weeks there. Enjoy it. You’ll have Maria, who will come in to cook your meals, but other than that, it’ll just be the two of you.”

  “We’re keeping the kids!” Bryn’s dad calls out.

  “Is Maria a good cook?” Will asks, earning a punch in the arm by Meg. “What? Maybe we should go there, too.”

  “Thank you so much,” Brynna replies and blushes when Dom plants a kiss on her cheek, earning a growl from Caleb.

  “That’s not all,” Luke adds. “You’re going to need to get there. We,” he gestures to the rest of the siblings, “have all pitched in to charter a private jet, so you can go whenever it’s convenient for you.”

  “You don’t have to—” Caleb begins, but Nate interrupts.

  “One thing you know about us, we don’t do anything we don’t want to. We want to.”

  “So you just decide when you want to go, and it’s yours,” Dom informs them.

  “But until then,” Natalie joins in, a wide smile on her beautiful face, “we’ve reserved a room for you at a bed-and-breakfast at the beach. You can go have as much sex as you want over the next four days.”

  “Thank you all, so much,” Brynna replies with tears in her eyes, hugging everyone in turn.

  “Let’s dance, sweetheart.” I hold my hand out to her and lead her to the grass where the music has started again. Need You Now by Lady Antebellum.

  Appropriate.

  I pull Brynna into my arms, and we begin to sway with the music.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask her.

  “Happy,” she replies with a grin.

  “That’s not what I mean,” I respond, and she nods. She knows I’m referring to the injuries she sustained in the car accident a few weeks ago.

  “I’m good, Matt. Much better.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you going to tell me about her?” Brynna asks with a knowing smile.

  I don’t even bother pretending that I don’t know what she’s talking about.

  “I hardly know her.”

  “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

  “It’s true.” I look over her shoulder when Nate swings Maddie up onto his back and runs around the yard with her, making her giggle incessantly.

  “She’s a really sweet woman. I like her. Do you want her number?”

  “I have it,” I reply and smile at her warmly. I never got around to getting it from Nic when I ran out of her apartment two weeks ago, but it wasn’t hard to track her down, since I know where she lives.

  “You know where she works now,” she reminds me.

  “I’m not going to stalk her at her job.”

  “So you’ll just stalk her during her private time?” Brynna asks with an innocent smile.

  “Doesn’t Caleb ever spank you?” I ask.

  “Yeah”—she sighs and grins over at her husband—“he does.”

  “You’ve had your hands on my wife long enough,” Caleb informs me as he cuts in.

  “Possessive much?” I ask as I back away.

  “Like you’d be any different.”

  I smirk, but he’s right. If I found a woman I wanted to spend my life with, I’d be damn possessive.

  “Thanks for the dance, sweetheart.”

  “Good luck.” She winks at me just before Caleb twirls her away and into his arms.

  ***

  I’m restless.

  The reception wrapped up awhile ago. Caleb and Brynna are off to their weekend away on the coast, and everyone has gone home. I’m sitting in my Belltown apartment, watching the lights of my city.

  And I can’t seem to get a certain dark-haired pixie out of my head.

  I’m not sure what it is about her, exactly, that has me so interested. I’ve fucked my share of beautiful women. Tied them up, had my way with them, and moved on with my life.

  Her insisting that she’s not my type should be a flashing neon warning sign that I should just stay away.

  No means no, after all.

  But she’s wrong. She may not be submissive all the time, but she is beautifully submissive in the bedroom.

  And damn if I don’t want to show her how life-changing it can be.

  Fuck it.

  I yank my phone out of my pocket and dial her number. She answers on the third ring, sounding out of breath, and my cock immediately stirs to life.

  All she did was breathe, for Christ sake.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, little one,” I murmur and smile when I hear her gasp.

  “How did you get my number?”

  “You made a cake for my brother, Nic,” I lie, not wanting to admit that I’ve had her number for well over a week now but was too consumed with my family to call her. “It wasn’t hard.”

  “You are tenacious, I’ll give you that.”

  “Look,”
I begin and shove a hand through my hair, “I think we got off on the wrong foot today. I’d like to talk with you.”

  “I like you, Matt.” She sighs before she continues. “And, honestly, I’m flattered. You seem like a really good guy. But I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’m not your type.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” I counter softly. “Let me show you.”

  She’s quiet for a long minute, and I wonder if I’ve lost her before she clears her throat.

  “I’d like to be friends,” she whispers. “But I think that’s all I can give you.”

  That’s a start.

  “Okay, for now.”

  “You’re hot, but you’re not irresistible, you know.”

  “You think I’m hot?” I grin and lean my shoulder against the cold glass of the window, watching cars drive by below.

  “I have to go, egomaniac.”

  “I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

  “I just told you…”

  “As friends. Friends drink coffee, right? Do you serve coffee at your bakery?”

  She chuckles in my ear, and the tension in my stomach loosens as I hear her softening.

  “Yes, I serve coffee.”

  “Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Matt.”

  “Good night, little one.” I hang up, change into my gym clothes and head for the door. I’m too restless to be home. I need to burn off some steam, and going to the club tonight holds no interest for me.

  Which in and of itself should be another big red flag.

  The ten-block jog to the gym is invigorating. Summer has settled nicely over Seattle, making the days warm and the nights just perfect.

  I start on the weights, working my core and arms today. Just when I’ve finished my second set of bench press, I sit up and pull my T-shirt over my head, wipe the sweat off my brow and chest with it, and throw it on the floor. As I take a long drink of water, my eyes survey the room.

  And that’s when I see her. Jesus, we belong to the same gym? She’s on a treadmill across the room, running at a fast clip. Earbuds are tucked in her ears, and her eyes are on the console of the treadmill, probably watching her distance.

  She’s wearing nothing but black shorts and a tight black tank top. More of her body is exposed now than it was when I was plunged deep inside her.

  Her little body is firm, yet curvy in the right places. Her arms are defined, probably from all the manual labor she does while baking.

  When she’s finished running and climbs off the treadmill, takes a long drink of water and wipes her face with a towel, I walk toward her.

  Shit, I must look like a fucking stalker.

  I keep my eyes trained on her as I approach, eager to see what her reaction will be when she sees me.

  And I’m not disappointed when her eyes widen and her mouth opens as she lets those gorgeous green eyes roam down my body. My cock tightens at her gaze, and I want to pull her against me and kiss her stupid. But I just stay where I am, watching her.

  She quickly recovers and raises an eyebrow.

  “Okay, Matt, it’s called stalking now.”

  I grin and offer her a fresh bottle of water, which she accepts, unscrews the cap and takes a sip.

  Fuck, she has beautiful lips. Lips that look amazing wrapped around the head of my cock.

  “It’s not a crime to belong to a gym,” I reply.

  “My gym?”

  “Do you own it?” I ask with a grin.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “No.”

  “It’s not far from my apartment, and it’s convenient to work, too, so here I am.”

  She nods and glances down, not sure what to say next.

  “The cake was delicious today,” I comment casually, giving her the opportunity to talk about her work.

  “Oh, good!” She grins and joins me as I walk toward the smoothie bar, pull out a chair for her to drop into at one of the tiny two-person tables and sit opposite her. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “You do good work. Leo and Sam are always talking about your cupcakes.”

  “Leo and Sam keep me in business, I swear.” She laughs, sending electricity down my spine. “They’re very good customers.”

  I nod, watching her.

  “I like your shorter hair,” I murmur and reach out to brush the ends with my finger, enjoying the softness.

  “Most men like long hair,” she replies softly.

  “I like long hair, too. You look beautiful in both.”

  She frowns and glances away from me.

  “Why did you cut your hair, Nic?”

  She shrugs and won’t meet my gaze. “It was time for a change.”

  “Try again,” I reply.

  She turns her eyes to mine and squares her shoulders, firms her chin. “It was time for a change.”

  That’s a lie.

  I cross my arms over my naked chest and drag my finger over my lip, watching her squirm.

  She isn’t a good liar.

  Good.

  “Okay.”

  She sighs, relieved, before I continue.

  “For now.”

  She scowls at me, making me laugh. “Friends don’t lie to each other, little one. The sooner you remember that, the better.”

  “You’ve known me for three minutes, Matt. Don’t assume you know all there is to know about me.”

  “You know what they say about assuming,” I murmur with a grin.

  “Well, you are an ass,” she replies and then giggles.

  I lean in and rest my mouth next to her ear. “This ass would love to smack your pretty little ass until it glows,” I whisper so only she can hear.

  She gasps and pulls back so she can look me in the eye, and I see it. The hunger. The lust. The awareness.

  “Friends don’t usually threaten to spank each other’s asses,” she murmurs softly.

  I lean back in my chair, not answering her, and cross my arms again as she pulls herself together.

  “I should head home,” she says finally and stands. “I have to be in the shop early tomorrow.”

  “It was good to see you, Nic,” I reply, allowing her to run. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She looks like she wants to say something more, probably to tell me not to bother coming into her shop, but she just shrugs and offers me a half smile before turning and walking away.

  Yes, I’ll definitely be seeing you tomorrow.

  Chapter Three

  ~Nicole~

  This ass would love to smack your pretty little ass until it glows.

  Christ on a crutch, who in the bloody hell says something like that?

  I turn onto my side and stare at my alarm clock. 4:43. My alarm is going to go off in seventeen minutes, and I haven’t slept a wink. Not even after a three-mile run and a hot, hot shower.

  Instead, all I could hear was Matt’s deep voice running through my head. His ice-blue eyes haunted me, the way they shine when he’s happy and darken when he’s turned on.

  And they darken a lot when he looks at me.

  I’d like to lick him.

  Except, he would rather tie me up.

  And the part that scares me is, I’d like for him to tie me up, too.

  Dear God, what is wrong with me?

  I sit up and turn off my alarm before trudging into the bathroom to begin getting ready for my day. When I go down to the shop in the mornings to bake the cupcakes for the day, I forgo any makeup in favor of comfort, then run upstairs about thirty minutes before we open to primp and be presentable for the clients. So it only takes a few minutes to pull on clothes, push my hair back with a headband—the one reason that I regret cutting my hair is no more ponytails—and I’m on my way down to the kitchen.

  My work space is my pride and joy. I attended countless used commercial kitchen auctions, biding my time until I found the perfect equipment for just the right price. The stainless steel counters gleam under the fluorescent lights. My ovens are almost orgasm-
inducing.

  I love this place.

  The front of the house was designed with the same care. I have a long glass display case that can hold roughly fifty dozen cupcakes at any time. I have an industrial espresso machine that would make Starbucks proud.

  The color scheme is red, white and black. The floor is covered in black and white tile. The tables are little black wrought iron bistro tables for two covered in red tablecloths, and there is a long pub-height table by the front windows where people can stand with their treats and watch the traffic or the many musicians who come and go out of the nondescript recording studio across the street.

  I’ve been open for just over a year, and I couldn’t be happier with the success of the shop. Succulent Sweets has made a profit from the first month, which I know is rare.

  I work my ass off for it.

  I set out my ingredients for the different flavors of cakes and dig in immediately. It’s a Sunday, so I’m open only half the day, from nine to one, but I still have orders to fill for two birthday parties, a baptism and a baby shower.

  Thank God cupcakes are all the rage these days.

  After the cupcakes that will be sold in the shop are all baked for the day, I let them cool while I bake the special orders. Just as I’m about to begin decorating, Tess, my part-time employee, bounces into the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” she sings and smiles widely.

  “You are very chipper for this early on a Sunday morning,” I respond with a smile. “And good morning.”

  “I went out last night,” she announces as she ties her white apron around her trim waist. Tess is tall and thin, with thick blond, red and pink hair. She wears black-rimmed glasses that are almost as big as her face, but she insists they’re very cool.

  And, I have to admit, she looks adorable in them.

  She pulls her hair back into a ponytail and grabs some frosting out of the fridge, ready to help me finish up today’s baking.

  “Who is he?” I ask.

  “His name is Sean…” She scrunches up her face. “Sean something.”

  “Geez, Tess.”

  “Oh stop, I had a bit to drink. He’s tall and built, and he has his nipples pierced.”

  “Ouch,” I reply with a laugh.