Taking Charge (Meet the McIntyres Book 1)

by Rebecca Barber

  I’d tried to give the ring back. More than once I’d offered it, Hayden wouldn’t take it. He told me he gave it to me, it was mine to do with what I wanted. He didn’t care if I threw it away or sold it. He just didn’t want to have to deal with it.

  Feeling restless, I needed to talk to someone. I craved some form of human contact. I was ready to push past the final barrier. The last thing holding me back. Sure, I’d exchanged texts with Mia, and Josie and Derek had stopped by a couple of times, yet I needed more.

  Me: Hi.

  The moment I sent the text I couldn’t believe I’d done it. When I’d come upstairs after my crazy one night of uninhibited craziness with Beau, I was surprised to find a crumpled piece of paper on my dresser with his phone number. Nothing more. No words. Just a number. I’d immediately tossed it in the bin.

  It took me exactly three hours and forty-one minutes to pull it back out, dust it off, and type the numbers into my phone.

  Up until now, I’d never once been tempted to use it.

  Now I was sitting here staring at it like a moron, waiting for a reply. I hated waiting. Forcing myself to walk away, I headed into the bathroom, showered, dressed, and applied my makeup. Under the hot, pulsating water, I’d made the executive decision I was going out tonight, whether I had to go alone or not. I was sick and tired of sitting at home staring at the same four walls. I wanted a huge, juicy steak.

  I’d just finished drying my hair when I heard my phone beep. An incoming message. Holding my breath, I padded across the floor, glancing down at my bare toes, making a mental note to give myself a pedicure soon.

  Beau: Was beginning to wonder if you’d ever use my number. ☺

  Me: I wasn’t sure.

  Beau: Glad you did.

  Me: Thx.

  Beau: What’s happening?

  I didn’t know how to answer him. My hands were damp and I wiped them against the seat of my pants. How did I ask him to come and have dinner with me without it sounding like a date? Or a booty call? It’s not like we were even friends. Suddenly I was regretting sending the message. I should have just left it. That wouldn’t be me, though. That would have been smart and I was anything but.

  I must have taken too long to reply, because the phone in my hand vibrated, shocking me.

  Beau: Where’d you go?

  Me: Sorry.

  Beau: No need.

  Me: Wanna join me for dinner?

  Me: If you haven’t eaten already.

  Me: Not a date.

  Me: Just friends.

  Me: shit

  Me: sorry ☹

  The urge to shut my phone off so I didn’t have to see his reply was almost too good to resist. I’d just made a complete idiot out of myself. This is why I didn’t talk to people. Obviously I didn’t know how to. I’d embarrassed the fuck out of myself.

  Beau: Absolutely.

  “What the hell?” He hadn’t made fun of me. He was a better man than I was. Maybe he was just humouring me. That’d make sense.

  Beau: Where and when?

  Me: Club? An hour?

  Although I was ready to go, I remembered that he lived half an hour from town. I couldn’t expect him to just drop everything and come running.

  Beau: Sounds good. Pick you up.

  “What? No!” He couldn’t pick me up, that would make it a date. It was better if I met him there.

  Me: I’ll meet you there.

  I let out the breath I was holding. I felt instantly better. Back in control. Maybe that was what I needed to have a friendship with Beau. Control. I’d never considered myself a control freak before, maybe I was, though. It definitely made sense.

  Beau: I’m picking you up. See you soon. :P

  I wanted to argue, but I got the feeling I wouldn’t win. I’d let him get away with it this time, but we would be talking about this. If we were going to attempt to be friends, if that was something he even wanted, then we needed some ground rules. Rule number one was if we went somewhere, we met there. I was not going to be trapped somewhere I didn’t want to be without an escape plan.

  Finding myself with an hour to kill, I could barely sit still. After pinning my hair back, I tried reading my book. When I figured out I’d read the same page three times, I abandoned that idea. Turning on the TV, I flicked channels, trying to find something to occupy my mind. Nothing did, and I soon clicked it off.

  Twenty minutes and a million tiny buttons later, I was standing in my bedroom staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. What possessed me to pull my wedding dress from the box in the top of my wardrobe and put it on, I’ll never know. But there I was. It didn’t quite fit like I remembered, a bit looser around my boobs and tighter around my waist. It kissed the floor, but I felt like a Princess.

  “Fuck it!” I’d come this far down the rabbit hole, might as well go all in.

  Slipping my feet in my white, sparkle-covered heels, I pulled out the tulle veil and settled it in my hair. When I’d pinned my hair back earlier, I’d had no thoughts of setting my veil into it. Perhaps though, I did. It worked perfectly. I looked like a bride. A perfect white, innocent bride. The only thing missing was a ring and a smile. I could fix one of those. Carefully I made my way over to my dresser and took out the velvet box. My breath caught exactly the same way it had the first time I’d seen it.

  Ignoring the crazy, erratic heartbeat beneath my breast, I slipped my emerald cut diamond ring on my finger and looked down with a heavy sigh. I may have looked like a princess, but I felt like a fraud. Unable to tear my eyes away from the sparkling ring on my finger, it didn’t feel right. The ring, while it was pretty and shiny, it didn’t belong there. With each breath I took, I felt more and more trapped.

  I needed to get it off.

  Now.

  “Payton? You ready to go?”

  “Fuck!” Beau was here. I’d completely lost track of time playing dress up. I couldn’t let him see me like this. He’d freak. Fuck! I was freaking.

  “Just a second,” I called out. Yanking off my veil and a chunk of my hair, my eyes watered at the pain. Kicking off my shoes, one clattered to the floor while the other thumped into the door.

  “You okay in there?”

  That voice didn’t sound like it was outside my door. Shit! Beau was inside and I was in my fucking wedding dress. Well, if I wanted to scare him off, then seeing me like this would certainly do it.

  “Don’t come in here!” I warned.

  “Payton.” The way my name sounded on his tongue made me forget myself. “I’ve seen you naked, there’s nothing you can show me that will shock me.”

  “Wanna bet?” I grumbled under my breath, never intending for him to hear me.

  “What was that?” he asked as he stepped into my bedroom and his jaw fell open.

  “Surprise?”

  What the fuck had I just walked into? I know I’d said I’d seen it all before. I was wrong. Seriously wrong. Payton was standing there, her face flushed, her eyes frantic, wearing a frilly wedding dress. I’d expected underwear and not a lot more, I’d be okay with that. But a wedding dress? Nup. Couldn’t handle that.

  “Please, Beau. Don’t say anything. Just help me get this thing off. Then I’ll explain.”

  Not trusting myself to say anything, I just nodded.

  Payton turned, offering me her back. With unsteady fingers, I started unbuttoning the dress. How she got it on, I’ll never know. There were a million of the tiny little fuckers. The hardest thing, besides my stiffening cock, was trying to resist touching her creamy skin as it was revealed. Just remembering how soft it was made my pulse race. As the last one came free, the whole of her dress slipped, showing me the top of her ass.

  “I’ll give you a second,” I offered, walking out of the room.

  I needed a minute.

  And a cold shower.

  Standing in her lounge room surrounded by her scent wasn’t helping my problem. I knew I didn’t have long to get myself under control. Even wearing a wedding
dress, she was still the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long time. Then peeling her out of it…

  I found myself wondering even more about the schmuck whose ring she wore and where he was now. If a girl had a diamond and a dress, at some point there was a guy involved. I wasn’t dumb enough to pretend otherwise.

  “S-Sorry about that,” she stuttered, coming back into the room. Her cheeks were stained with her humiliation. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a baggy black jumper. Every single one of her delicious curves were hidden away. Unfortunately. I watched as she grabbed her bag and slipped her feet into a pair of black flat shoes that looked like slippers before holding open the door.

  Even though I’d told her I was driving, right now I needed a drink or two to calm my very frazzled nerves. Following her out the door and down onto the street, my heart was still beating out of my chest. I could hear the blood roaring in my ears.

  “Hey!” Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her wrist, causing her to spin around and meet my eyes for the first time since I’d surprised her in her bedroom. “Do you mind if we walk down to the pub instead? They do a mean rump steak.”

  “Sounds good.”

  We walked in silence down the deserted street. It was just another thing I still wasn’t used to. It was barely seven on a Wednesday evening and there wasn’t another soul in sight. Not even a barking dog. It wasn’t until I went to pull open the heavy wooden door to the bar that I realised I hadn’t let go of Payton’s hand. More surprising, she hadn’t attempted to pull away either.

  Marching straight up to the bar, Payton took charge. “I’ll take a rump steak, veggies, and chips with mushroom sauce please. Beau?”

  Caught off guard, I rattled off my order before reaching for my wallet.

  “Nope. I’m paying. It’s the least I can do. Anything to drink?” Stubborn ass woman. She left no room for argument.

  “Beer, thanks.”

  “Make it two.”

  Although Payton didn’t strike me as a beer drinker, I kept it to myself. After paying, we made our way over to a table in the corner and sat down. As soon as my butt hit the chair, I realised how nervous I was…and I never got nervous. I kept reminding myself that this wasn’t a date. It was nothing more than dinner with a friend. That’s all she wanted. So that’s what I’d give her.

  “How’s work?”

  Work seemed like a safe topic. It was the only one I could think of.

  “Work? Really, Beau?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Come on. Let’s not pretend here. Remember, you’ve seen me naked.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I remember. Vividly.” I couldn’t stop myself. I winked. It did exactly what I’d hoped it would. Caused Payton to giggle. Damn, I loved that sound.

  “Beau…” Her voice was full of warning. “You walked in on me in a wedding dress. Surely you have a thought or two on the topic.”

  “Payton…” I reached out and wrapped her trembling hands in mine, not missing the fact that she was still wearing the ring I’d found amongst her panties.

  “I was engaged. Six months ago. Hayden. Two weeks before the wedding, he came home from work one night, I was cooking dinner. Nothing exciting. Just chops and veggies. I knew it the moment I saw him. Something was off. I just knew. He stood in the doorway, fidgeting. Usually he’d come in, give me a kiss, and ask about my day. That day he didn’t even take a step towards me.”

  My stomach was in my mouth. I didn’t want to know, yet she needed to talk about it. I was screwed. As much as I didn’t want to be the person she spilled her secrets to, I was here and it wasn’t about me right now. Payton needed a friend. She’d asked me. It was the least I could offer her. I didn’t let go of her hand, instead I rubbed my thumb back and forth over her soft skin.

  “He just said he was sorry. It was over and he was leaving.”

  That was more than I could handle. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I growled.

  It was in the same moment the waitress brought over our meals, setting them down on the table. She must have heard me. It was the only explanation I could think of for the dirty look she aimed at me.

  “The next thing I knew a friend of mine was scooping me up off the kitchen floor and handing me a glass of wine. I don’t even remember calling her. I found out later that I didn’t. Hayden had called her before he’d left and told her I needed a friend. He didn’t give her any details, just told her to come over.”

  “Pussy!”

  I wasn’t exactly proud of the ways I’d left women over the years, but even I wasn’t that much of a coward. It’s called having some balls, and obviously this Hayden douche didn’t have any. Now he was the one missing out. I might not know everything about Payton, not yet anyway, but I knew that much.

  I watched on, impressed and aroused as she threw her head back and downed the rest of her beer in one long pull. Most guys I knew couldn’t even do that. Actually, I wasn’t sure I could.

  “So the dress…”

  “It was dumb.”

  “Tell me anyway,” I invited. We’d come this far, might as well get it all out now. Rip off the Band-Aid in one fell swoop, so to speak. Then, hopefully, we could put it behind us and never speak of it again.

  “I was bored.”

  “Nah, not buying that. There’s more to it. Spill it.”

  “I need another beer.”

  “Nice try. I’ll grab drinks, but you are talking.”

  She gulped and dropped her head as I slid from my stool and headed for the bar. Maybe a few minutes to get herself together would help. I knew it’d help me. So far all I knew was that this Hayden guy was a ball-less wonder, who didn’t deserve someone as awesome as Payton. It was a good thing I didn’t know more. Seeing the pain on her face, pain he caused, was like a direct trigger for the asshole in me. I wanted to beat his ass and remind him what he threw away.

  Turning around, I watched as she dunked a chip in the filled gravy boat and nibbled on the end. Was everything that woman did sexy or was there something wrong with me? Grabbing our drinks, I sipped from mine, hoping the ale would cool my heating blood. It didn’t. It didn’t even make a dent.

  “Thank god,” Payton gasped as I placed the drinks on the table.

  “Nah ah! You want this, then I want the rest,” I taunted her, taking the beer away from her outstretched fingertips.

  “Beau.” She batted her eyelashes and pouted her delicious lips. It almost had me caving. Almost.

  “Nice try, sweetheart. You want your beer. Spit it out.”

  “Fine!” She huffed. “I was bored. Every book I read, every movie I watched…hell, everyone I know is all getting their happily ever after. And what have I got? More bills than I can handle, a few friends who have no idea who I really am or what I’ve been through. And I can’t even get a cat! I’m completely fucking alone.”

  When she grabbed for her beer, I didn’t stop her. I couldn’t. If anything I wish I had something stronger to offer her.

  Cutting a hunk of my steak, I stuffed it in my mouth and concentrated on chewing. I wasn’t sure what to say. I was too afraid to open my mouth in case the wrong thing came out. With my luck it was bound to.

  The silence settled over us as we both focused on the food in front of us.

  “Want to hear something completely fucked up?” I offered, unsure what possessed me to throw that offer on the table. Payton quirked an eyebrow, not really sure where this was heading. The truth was, either was I.

  “My brother is a stripper.”

  When she spat beer across the table I knew I’d lifted the heaviness hanging over us. Handing her a wad of napkins, I wiped the beer from my own shirt as she dabbed at her own.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “You think I was? God, I walked into the bathroom and glitter dicks stuck to my foot.”

  “Bullshit!”

  “I kid you not. There were pink and purple glitter dicks everywhere.”

  “That’s fucking b
rilliant!”

  She laughed this infectious laugh that I couldn’t help but to join in. It was this crazy, high-pitched giggle that made me smile so damn wide my cheeks hurt. Even though she’d downed her beer relatively quickly, she couldn’t be drunk. Either way, I didn’t give a shit. Making her laugh felt fantastic and I found my chest puffing out of its own accord.

  “Wait!” The laughter died on her lips and her face got all serious. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “When was this?”

  “Umm.”

  “It wasn’t the night that we, uh, um, well, you know?”

  “Got friendly?” I offered, waggling my eyebrows in her direction.

  “Fine! The night we got friendly.” She huffed, folding her arms across her chest. If she thought for a second that was going to stop me thinking about that night, she was wrong. Very fucking wrong. If anything it made the memory all the more vivid. Want more. With her boobs pushed up, my steak didn’t taste as juicy anymore. But those boobs…I remembered exactly how they tasted.

  Shaking my head, I tried to push away the thoughts that had unsuccessfully taken over. My pants were tightening with every breath. Thank god for the table, hiding my embarrassing boner. I hadn’t been this horny since I was a pre-pubescent teenager. In the past two weeks I’d jerked off more than I could ever recall. I was more than likely developing a serious case of carpal tunnel. The problem was, the woman sitting beside me, with her exposed neck that I was desperate to devour, she was the object of my lust. It seemed no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake the image of her quaking thighs, nor could I silence the memory of her moans as she exploded beneath me. It was supposed to be one night. But fuck me, I wanted more. And talking about it wasn’t doing a damn thing to help it.