“What kind of bet?”
“If he wins, he makes it official with you and you let him. There won’t be any more denying on your part, B.”
“How—”
“Syn, I understand how your brain works. Had he not made you his PA, there’d be no doubt who belongs with whom. But you follow the rules. No work relationship. Remember the last time this kind of shit went down?”
I do. A year ago. Boone was my boss. His boss found out and canned him. I felt horrible he lost his job the same time he lost his dog to cancer, and still do. Dare saw the situation differently when Boone started showing up at the same places we were at. He didn’t come up to me. He just stared at us from whichever spot he was at, his gaze intense and hungry, like he didn’t get enough sex with me.
Dare finally got tired of the heated stares and brooding. He totaled Boone’s pickup truck. Demanded Boone stay away from me or else hell would rain down on him. I haven’t seen Boone since. God, I have a horrible track record with guys. I don’t even remember the guy’s name from eight months ago, the last guy I slept with.
All I remember was I needed to feel wanted, and a vibrator wouldn’t cut it. Nothing compares to being wrapped in a man’s strong arms. Or coming hard on a man’s thickness.
“Are you telling me to quit?”
“Yeah.”
“I need the money.”
“Money or guy with the boner for you? Difficult choice, B.”
Dammit, why does he have to make so much sense, showing me the obvious choice?
“Do you think Midnight will give me more hours?”
“Why wouldn’t he? Your friends are promising him a one hundred percent increase in his return of investment.”
“Midnight is a tech guy and he has a team helping him with social media posts and promos. Why does he need them telling him how to run his business?”
“It’s not about whether he or his team can make something happen. It’s about giving people chances, B. That’s what Rhett and Hunter are looking for. For someone to believe in their ideas enough to give them a chance.”
“Their ideas aren’t bad,” I admit.
Hunter wants to trial a new social media app, and Rhett would like the chance to change up the menu. Once they meet or exceed their promise to Midnight, he’ll give them the funding to open their own bar as well as give them access to his team.
The restaurant business can be cutthroat. They have three months to prove their worth to Midnight.
Again, what did I do to piss off the universe that both of my ex-boyfriends are in Dumas? And, both guys are looking to get back with me. There is no question who I would pick. Taron.
30
Syn
Okay, well, after Taron ignored me during practice and cancelled on our time together, I rethink what I did wrong.
Confused and frustrated when I draw a blank—I can’t think of anything I’ve done that would have upset Taron—I send him a text.
Me: Paper due in two days. Work on it today? My schedule is free
It’s not. I’ll be FaceTiming with Beau and Gunner later, but with how Taron is treating me, I am expecting him to cancel on me.
NotCompletelyOffLimits: Will be there in ten minutes. Unless you want me to pick up dinner?
Me: Sure
NCOL: What?
What? I am reading a lot of pent-up frustrations in that one text. Deep breaths in and out, Syn.
Calmed, I reply.
Me: Fried chicken and mashed potatoes? In mood for comfort food
If we are to go head to head with whatever is bothering him, I have to stick around and listen. I have to stop running away from my troubles. And because I can’t this time—I have adult obligations and college to finish—it’s not the running away I have to worry about. It’s avoiding talking altogether.
God, four years is a long time to leave words left unsaid.
NCOL: That’s a plan. See you soon
I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding while waiting for his response. Finally, we’ll talk. And he will get to meet Beau and Gunner. Taron’s smart enough that he’ll be able to put two and two together without me breaking my promise to Beau.
Once the custody fight is over with, Beau will break it to Gunner that I am his big sister. Beau had the forethought to keep my identity a secret from Lola. Lola doesn’t have smarts, but she can be fickle and vicious. Beau was afraid Lola would alert the media of my connection to him and that the media’s attention would disrupt my life in Dumas. His fears aren’t far from the truth.
Media attention can have a trickle-down effect, and before I know it, my business, including my mother’s secret and her connection to Taron’s dad, another ex-football star, will be out there for everyone to gossip about and judge. No thank you.
While I wait for Taron, I throw a load of clothes into the washer, toss the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and check my fridge, making sure it is stocked with Taron’s favorite ale.
There is a knock on the door. I close the refrigerator door and smooth my hands over my hair on the way to the door. I open it, and it’s not Taron.
“Hunter. What are you doing here? How did you get my address?”
Hands behind his back, he rocks on his heels, and I am suspicious.
“Dare. He said you wanted to talk.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean at this moment.”
Dare also has a copy of my calendar. His insane ask times are in red. I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket and check my calendar in case I am off on my days. It happens and has been happening a lot lately since Taron and I are having lots and lots of great sex.
“He didn’t. He said to stop by tomorrow between six and seven. I can’t wait that long, Syn.”
His arm swings forward. A bouquet of roses is shoved into my chest.
“I’m sorry for sticking you with the tab. For guilt-tripping you into having a threesome. For making you watch. I’m sorry a thousand times over and will do anything to make it up to you.”
“Anything?” I tuck my phone back in my pocket.
He narrows his eyes. “Within reason.”
Ignoring the roses, I set my hands on my hips. “I’m not getting back with you, so that’s my ask. Drop the idea of us. You hurt me, Hunter.”
“And I’ll always regret that. Please, Syn.”
I shake my head. “There’ll be no starting anything between us. This is our closure. Your apologies close the loop for me. We’re done.”
“Our baby?”
“Guess, Hunter? Do you see a child with me?”
“I’ve seen the paparazzi’s pictures, so yeah. Our kid is in good hands, baby. His granddaddy’s taking good care of him for us.”
Of course, that’s when Taron walks up to the house. Low growl from him. Hunter steps aside. His smirk is annoying, and if he doesn’t get it off his face, Taron will sock him.
“Whose baby?”
I move onto the small front porch in case I need to insert myself between them. Hunter sidles up to me and slides his arm across my shoulders.
“Ours. Syn’s dad’s been watching Gunner for us.”
Holy shit. How does Hunter know Beau is my dad and that my little brother’s name is Gunner?
“He has it all wrong, Taron. Remember, I’ll tell you everything soon.” I will not break my promise to Beau, but later tonight, after Taron leaves, I’ll call him. Where is Hunter getting his information from?
I am the nanny, the houseguest, Beau’s friend, but Beau has never introduced me as his daughter. Taron steps forward. Hunter tightens his hold on me. I’m expecting Taron to rush at him, plowing his head into Hunter’s stomach. Except what he does next takes me completely by surprise.
“No need, Pixie Dust. Makes complete sense now. The father of Syn’s kid can count himself as my friend too. Welcome to Dumas, man. How about some chow? I got extra.” Taron holds up two bags of food.
My stomach chooses that moment to growl. Hunter laughs. “Extr
as is good. My girl can eat. Don’t know where she packs it either. Her body is svelte and sexy fine. Come on, baby, let’s eat.”
He shoves the bouquet in my hand. I take in from him and walk inside my place. Hunter’s palm lands heavy on my ass. I cringe, expecting Taron’s caveman war cry followed by the sound of bone breaking. There is none, and again, I am surprised as well as proud of him for holding on to his temper.
Hunter is the jerk for baiting Taron.
We sit at the table, and the guys dish up. I set a bottle of ale in front of Taron and hand Hunter a Corona. The men pop off the tops and stare at one another as they down their drinks.
Afterward, they tear into their chicken breasts and thighs before digging into the cheese sticks. I pick at my food, not hungry. The tension is thick and the mood, murderous.
“So how long have you known Syn?”
“This year.”
I sip my beer and stay quiet. I understand why Taron responded the way he did. This year is our beginning. A chance to get to know the new us.
“You two together?”
Taron looks at me, his gaze intense. “That’s up to Syn. You see your kid often?”
“Our kid.” Hunter grabs on to my hand and drops a kiss on my knuckles.
I let him rather than pull away. If I pull away, I’m afraid Taron will sock Hunter in the face and I’ll lose my chance of finding out exactly what Hunter’s motive is for bringing up Gunner.
“How often?” Taron wipes the grease and crumbs off his hands, over the plate so as not to make a mess on my table.
“That’s the thing. I haven’t seen my kid at all. Syn’s keeping Gunner from me. But that’s about to change.”
“How you figure?”
“Syn carves out time for me. When she does, I won’t tell the media she is Beau Huntington’s daughter.”
Nothing from Taron, not even raised brows or widened eyes. He takes the news like a champ, and thank goodness for people who have the awesome ability to keep poker faces.
“So your extortion is more about time with Syn than with your kid?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Hunter slides his arm across the top of the chair, and setting his hand on my shoulder, he pulls me close. Apparently, I’m not close enough. He hauls me off my chair and seats me on his lap. I squirm. Bad idea. His erection nudges my sex through my yoga pants.
“Fire her as your assistant. Pay her three months’ severance. Stay the fuck away from her. Do all of the above and I will keep Syn’s secret. Don’t and we’ll see what other secrets of Syn’s the media will find.”
31
Taron
It takes everything in me not to pummel Hunter to a bloody pulp until his mohawk is the only thing the authorities can identify him by.
Leaning back in the chair, I sling my arm across the empty chair next to me. Is he playing our bluff? Does he think I am that stupid? Gunner isn’t his kid or Syn’s. Gunner is Syn’s half-brother.
Once I got over my initial anger of a different guy knocking up Syn, I mulled over what Syn told me. Had Hunter given two fucks about Syn, he wouldn’t: One, rope Syn into a threesome with his cousin. Two, he wouldn’t ask for Syn to watch him fuck another woman. And finally, he wouldn’t have let her go. Most of all, he should not have let her go.
He should have held on to her, baby or no baby. Lucky for me, he let her go. Now, I have my chance, and I am not giving up on her. I see the fear in her eyes. She has secrets, ones that have the power to destroy lives. I feel her pain. My secrets are equally destructive. Except my parents’ marriage is already destroyed, so why keep my dad’s secret?
Because you gave Sydney your word.
Protecting Sydney is as essential as the air that fills my lungs, so yeah, I’ll continue protecting her. Will protect Syn too. Next to my mom, those two are the most important women in my life.
“I can’t do what you ask. Sorry, man. Syn lives and dies by her calendar, and you fucking up her schedule down to when she and I fuck, will mess with her A-game. Messed-up A-game equals a stressed-out, unhappy Syn, and if Midnight and Dare don’t come after you after I’m done with you for putting my girl in a bad mood, her dad will.”
He scoffs. “That prick doesn’t want more drama, dickwad.”
“I’m not speaking of Beau.” I call my own bluff based off Syn’s reaction when I brought up this man’s name. “Gary Thornton.”
Hunter’s eyes widen. Score one for me.
“He got out of prison two weeks ago for aggravated assault. Some guy mouthed off about his old lady. Gary went after him with a metal pipe. Beat him within an inch of his life. You willing to risk putting Syn between a rock and a hard place and hope Gary doesn’t come for you?”
He tosses the drumstick on his plate, smacks his palms together, getting crumbs all over Syn’s clean table, and rises from his seat.
“You win this time.”
He walks to the door with confidence in his steps. An overconfident bastard is dangerous. And this need of his to have Syn without taking her feelings into consideration also makes him an entitled jerk. Except I did the same when I made her my PA, knowing full well she would be uncomfortable near me again. Shit, I’m cut from the same cloth.
“Watch your back, man. I’m not done with her.”
The door slams shut behind him. Seconds pass. We don’t breathe. Is Syn listening for a loud crash of something being thrown at her window? Or for the door to crash open with Hunter standing on the other side with a gun?
That’s how dangerous he is with the steel glint in his eyes when he demanded I give Syn up.
“You have shitty taste in men, Syn,” I say after nothing but silence.
“Don’t I know it.” She laughs. It’s shaky. She wipes at strands of hair falling over her eye. Her fingers tremble. My chest aches. She’s fucking scared.
I rise out of my seat. Pull her into my arms. Get us on the couch so that she’s straddling my thighs. With my hands cocooning her face, I bring her close and brush my mouth over hers.
“Everything will be okay, baby. I’ll make sure of it.”
Her hands balled on my shoulders, she edges back and looks me in the eye, her teeth wearing down on her bottom lip.
“Is it true what you said about Gary?”
“Nah, Pixie Dust. I made it all up. Don’t know a thing about the guy other than his very name gave my girl an anxiety attack. How come? Should I be worried?” The more important question is, “Did he fucking hurt you?”
“Never. He’s the one who taught me how to play the piano.”
“That so?”
“Yes.”
“He’s a good man.”
“I ghosted him too. He . . .” She looks away. Toys with her rings. Fear of judgement, and her fear tears me apart.
“You don’t have to tell, Syn. I know all about keeping secrets and keeping promises. If you want, I can put in a guess, and if I’m spot on, you shake or nod your head. No talking needed.”
Her brows tug together. “No talking means I won’t be breaking my promise.”
“Yes, baby.” I smooth my finger over the line between her eyebrows.
“The thing is, I never promised Gary anything. My promise is to Beau, and I would like to not talk about him. Not yet.”
“Not being ready is okay in my book, Pixie Dust. I’ll always wait for you even if it takes another four years.”
“Taron. You . . . I like you so much.”
“I like you too, baby.”
Needing to taste and touch her, to show her how much I like being with her, I press my mouth over hers. Slide my mouth back and forth. She trembles. Sighs. I eat up her sigh, coaxing her mouth open with my tongue. She opens to me, and I slide home, tasting the walls of her mouth.
In between our kisses, I ask her to hold on tight to me. It’s time to move this into the bedroom. Time to make her forget the shit that just went down with her ex. Time to forget the secrets she was asked by Beau Huntington, prick and four-time
Super Bowl champion, to keep for him.
Inside her bedroom, I strip Syn of her clothes. Get out of mine. Worship her body from head to toe. Eat her out before I slide my cock inside her.
She is wet.
She is making those sex noises that bring me to the brink of unloading inside her before I can make her come. I pump my cock inside her nice and slow. Draw out her pleasure. Her small arms and slender legs wrap around my waist and shoulders. Digging how soft and warm she is and how she likes having sex with me, I press kisses on her forehead, the curves of her cheeks, and down her neck.
Her hands move off my shoulders, and reaching up, she slides her fingers in my hair. Bringing me down to her, her eyes hooded and fixed on mine, she claims my mouth in a kiss that opens up a part of me I haven’t ever given to a girl except for Syn. It’s the softer side of me.
The side where I can drop my guard and openly cry or confess my doubts and fears without fear of judgment and rejection. She brings that out in me again after having buried it deep when she left me.
As though understanding what I am feeling while deep inside her, Syn sighs and comes, her face serene. She is beautiful and she is mine.
No one will take her away from me.
The only person who can is Syn herself.
32
Syn
Taron insists on going straight to bed, but I am not having it. After having my well-planned life threatened by Hunter, finding comfort in my schedule is what will reset the disruption.
“Are you ready?” We missed FaceTime with Beau and Gunner, and glad we’re in the same time zone, I texted Beau asking him if we can FaceTime before he tucks Gunner in bed.
“You sure he’ll be okay with this?”
“Gunner or Beau?”
“Gunner. The first and only time he saw me, I probably had what Andy calls a ragey look.”
I pat his thigh. We are on the bed in our pajamas after showering. It’s so domestic having him stay overnight. I cannot decide whether I like it or I’m still of the mindset that we’re moving way too fast.
Give You Up (Dumas University Book 1) Page 17
