“I’m sure you’ll feel that way until you find someone else who fits your requirements,” I quip, fearing my words speak the truth. I turn back to Colton, still trying to recover from the impact of his confession and yet needing to show him that I have some self-control when it comes to him. “Why waste your time on me when you can have any other girl willing to give you exactly what you want?”
“But. I. Want. You. Rylee. No. One. Else.” He smirks.
The man is relentless, but I still think he’s after the challenge when it comes to me. I shake my head. “You have a habit of telling me what you want, Ace, without asking me what I want.”
Colton takes the baseball hat in his hands and tugs it down over my head, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face and a sinful gleam in his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart...” he emits a low rumbling chuckle as he takes two steps back from me “...I know exactly what you want.” He holds his hand up to motion to Beckett that he’s coming when his name is called. His grin widens into one of the wickedest and most carnal smiles I have ever seen. My core coils and I tense to stifle my desire. “And I have just the right tools to give it to you.” And with those parting words, he turns on his heel and walks over to Beckett, his laughter reverberating in the garage. Beckett eyes him up and down, a bemused look on his face as Colton says goodbye to the boys.
When Colton finishes, he turns back toward me and smirks. “All consuming experience!”
He laughs at my confused expression. “What?”
“What it stands for.” He grins and I finally get it. He’s still guessing what Ace means.
“Nope,” I say, fighting the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth.
He takes a step backwards, biting his bottom lip in concentration. I can see the minute he thinks of another one as his eyes light up, the corners around them crinkling. “The amazing Colton experience,” he shouts over to me, garnering an eye roll from Beckett.
“Oh geez!” I laugh at his lack of humility and mimic Beckett with an eye roll of my own. “Nope,” I yell back, suppressing a laugh.
Colton takes another step backwards, his face filled with humor, and shakes his head at me. “Later, Ryles.”
“Later, Ace,” I mutter, begrudgingly accepting the fact that in so many ways Colton is right. That no matter how intelligent I am or how rational I try to be, his pull on me is just too strong.
I tug his hat down on my head, adjusting my now-wrecked ponytail, and watch him throw a playful arm around Beckett’s shoulder as they walk down the pathway. I shake my head, overwhelmed by the day’s events, and head over to collect my excited but very tired boys for the long ride home.
21
“Check it out!” Dane throws a newspaper proof onto my desk as he walks by my office at Corporate Cares. “Your cleavage is going to be in the newspaper and we’re going to get some good press.”
I whip my head up to look at him, confused, before glancing down at the paper. On the lower half of the cover of the sports section is a side-by-side picture of our outing at the track and the accompanying article. The picture on the left is a picture of Colton’s car with all of the boys kneeling in front of it with Colton in the middle. The picture to the right is a close up of Zander, Ricky, and myself. I am in between the two, and unfortunately, the way my arms are positioned, my cleavage is on display in the V of my snug T-shirt. “Lovely! Oh my God, that’s embarrassing!”
“C’mon, Ry, you look hot. And the girls look great!”
I throw my pencil at him, laughing. “When does this go to print? Can we ask him to change the picture?”
“Yeah, right! You know they picked it so that the guys that open up the sports page will read the article and not flip past it.” I roll my eyes, feeling the flush of embarrassment creep into my cheeks. “Just think of it as taking one for the team—”
“What?”
“It’s a really good article that’s going to give us good press.” He laughs out loud. “Hell, if I was into playing for your team, I’d keep the picture for late night fun!”
“Oh, shut up!” I shout at him, unable to keep my laughter from bubbling up.
“C’mon, Ry—read it. You’re gonna like what it says.”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow as I skim through it, pleased with what I see.
“Seriously. It is,” he tells me, taking a seat in front of my desk. “A lot of good info about The House and about corporate and the new facilities.”
“When’s it running?”
“This Sunday, and the OC Register most likely will run then too, but I haven’t seen their proof yet.”
“Hmmm, not bad.” I set it down on the side of my desk where I can read it more thoroughly later.
“How was your interview?” he asks, referring to the one good candidate I had for the open counselor position. I interviewed her earlier in the day and was quite impressed.
“She was actually really good. Almost too good to be true really, but her references check out, and I think I’m going to make her an offer. I think the boys will really take to her. I’ll need you to help me train her but—” The ringing of my cell phone interrupts me. I glance down to see who is calling. “It’s Teddy,” I tell him.
Dane rises from the chair and mouths he’ll come back later as I answer. “Hey, Teddy!”
“Rylee! Heard we got a good article from the LA Times. Great job!”
“You’re breaking up on me, Teddy.” The phone line crackles.
“I need to talk to you—” The call drops and the line goes dead.
I wait a second for my phone to ring again and when it doesn’t, I go back to looking at the budgetary numbers I was working on before Dane interrupted. After a few minutes, my cell rings again.
“Hello?”
“Rylee Thomas, please,” a monotone male voice says over the phone.
“This is she.”
“Hi, Ms. Thomas, this is Abel Baldwin.”
Oh, crap! What boy is it this time? “Good afternoon, Principal Baldwin. What can I do for you today?”
“Well, it seems to me that Aiden can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately. He was in yet another fight last period, Ms. Thomas.” Disdain fills his voice at having to deal with this again.
This is Aiden’s third fight in as many months that has been caught by school authorities. I have a feeling that there have actually been a couple more that have gone unnoticed as well. Oh, Aiden. “What happened?”
“Not quite sure. He won’t really talk with me about it.” And I really don’t think you care, either.
“What about the other kid?” A question that I ask every time and always get a less than satisfactory answer to.
“They said it was a simple misunderstanding.”
“They?” There’s more than one? “I hope that they are in your office as well, Mr. Baldwin.”
He clears his throat. “Not exactly. They are in class and—”
“What?” I shout at him, perplexed by his obvious bias.
“And I think it’s better if you come and pick up Aiden—”
“He’s suspended?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“No, he’s not.” I can hear the irritation in his voice at having me question him. “If you’d let me finish Ms. Thomas—”
“He’s not suspended, but you want me to come get him while the other boys get to stay in class?” My rising frustration is more than evident in my voice. “Surely you can understand why I’m upset at what seems to be favoritism here.”
He stays quiet for a moment as I gather up my things as best as possible with one hand so I can go pick him up. “Ms. Thomas, your accusation is unfounded and serves no purpose here. Now I would appreciate if you could come collect Aiden so we can let the two parties simmer down. This in no way indicates that Aiden is at fault in this matter. In addition, Aiden has blood on his clothing and seeing as it’s against school policy for him to walk around with it there, I think it’s in the school’s best interest to send him h
ome for the afternoon.”
I sigh loudly, biting my tongue from telling this less-than-stellar principal exactly what I think of him. “I’ll be right there.”
Aiden is silent all the way home from school. My shift at The House doesn’t start for another three hours, but I think that Aiden and I need to have a little alone time to talk about what happened. I haven’t pushed him to tell me, but I need to know. Is he being bullied? Is he looking for attention that he’s not getting? Is he releasing frustration from his past? I need to know so that I can figure out how to help.
Before we walk into the house, I motion for him to sit down on the front porch step next to me. He rolls his eyes but obeys. He stares at me as I take in the swollen lip with dried blood at the corner, the dark red mark on his right cheek and the start of bruising on the left eye. His cheeks flush deeply under my scrutiny.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, buddy, but you have to tell me what happened.” I reach out and grab his hand while he lowers his head and watches an ant crawl slowly on the step beneath us. We sit in silence, and I allow it for a bit but finally squeeze his hand, letting him know he needs to talk.
“They were just being jerks,” he grumbles.
“Who started it, Aiden?” When he doesn’t respond, I prompt again. “Aiden? Who threw the first punch?”
“I did.” His voice is so soft, so sad with shame that it breaks my heart. I see a fat tear slide down his swollen cheek, and I know that something is off.
“Talk to me, Aiden. Who was it and what did they do to make you want to hit them?”
He reaches up to dash away the fallen tear with the back of his hand and leaves a smear of dirt in its path. “They called me a liar,” he mumbles, his bottom lip quivering. “Ashton Smitty and Grant Montgomery.”
Little punks! The know-it-all, privileged, popular kids from his grade whose parents never seem to be around. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him to my side, kissing the top of his head. “What did they say you were lying about?”
His voice is barely audible. “They told me I lied about going to the track on Sunday. That I didn’t really meet Colton or know him …”
My heart squeezes. He was so excited to go to school and tell all his friends about his experience. So excited to be cool for once and have something that the other kids didn’t. I sigh loudly, squeezing him again. I want to tell him that the little punks deserved it and that he did the right thing, but that’s obviously not the most responsible way to react. “Oh, Aiden … I’m sorry, buddy. Sorry they didn’t believe you. Sorry they pushed you … but Aiden, fighting somebody with your fists is not the way to solve things. It only ends up making it worse.”
He reluctantly nods his head. “I know, but—”
“Aiden,” I scold sternly, “there are no buts here … you can’t use your fists to fix problems.”
“I know, but I tried to tell Ms. McAdams when they started pushing and shoving and she wouldn’t listen.”
I can see another tear threaten to fall from his thick lashes. “Well then, I’m going to make an appointment to speak with her and Baldwin about this.” His head whips up and his eyes open widely in fear. “I’m not going to make it worse, Aiden. I’m just going to ask them to keep their eyes open a little more. To make sure that they do not let this happen again. And I’ll make sure that the other kids don’t know.”
He nods his head, releasing a noncommittal grunt. “Am I in trouble?” He looks up at me with fear in eyes.
I wrap both my arms around him and squeeze his little body that’s known so much hurt and abandonment. I hold him to me, trying to reassure him and let him know that it’s okay. That getting in trouble doesn’t mean a severe beating and food withheld for days. “Yeah, bud, you are … but I think that icky feeling you have might just be the worst of it.” I feel his shoulders sag in relief as a plan forms in my head.
“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for long.” Colton’s voice fills the other end of the telephone line, arrogance redefined. His sexy voice alone makes my pulse race, but I have to put how I feel aside as I put my plan to help restore Aiden’s self-confidence at school into motion.
“I’m not calling for me, Ace.”
“Ooooh, I love it when you’re all business and straight to the point. It’s such a turn on, Ryles.”
“Whatever!” I say, but I can’t help the slow smile that creeps over my face.
“No, seriously, what’s up, sweetheart?”
Why do I love when he calls me that? Why does it make me feel like I’m special to him?
“It’s Aiden,” I tell him filling in the details as he listens attentively, despite the voices I hear in the background. “Is it possible that I can get some kind of signed picture of you or something he can bring to school tomorrow to prove that he’s met you and actually was there on Sunday?”
Colton laughs loudly, and I’m confused by his reaction. “That’s only going to get his teeth knocked in, Rylee. That’s something only a geek would do … those brats would eat him alive.”
“Oh … um … I had no idea.”
“You wouldn’t.” Colton chuckles, slightly offending me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“And please don’t go have a conference with the teacher or principal,” he groans. “Inevitably someone will see you and then it will only make things harder for Aiden.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Oh yes, you were,” he kids, and I’m shocked he has me pegged so well. “I just know you were one of those preppy kids who had their homework done before it was due, helped the teacher in class, and was part of the ‘in’ crowd. No offense, Rylee, but you have no idea what it is to be a misfit on the verge of puberty who gets the crap beat out of him just because.”
I’m flustered that he has such a good read on me, but more than that, his words about understanding the misfit crowd gives me more insight to him as a child. When I don’t respond, he laughs again. “You were like that, weren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I answer slowly, heat flushing my cheeks.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Rylee … it’s just different for kids like Aiden.”
And like you were. “What do you suggest I do then, since I obviously don’t understand?” I try to hide the hurt in my voice.
“Are you on shift there tomorrow?”
“Yeah … what does that have to do with anything?” When he remains silent, I prompt him. “Colton?”
“Give me a second to think,” he snips at me and I blanch at his tone. I hear someone call his name in the background. Of course it’s a female. “What time do you leave for school in the morning?”
“At eight. Why?”
“I’m tied up right now,” he says innocently, but my mind drifts to braided velvet ropes and cold counters. I jolt my mind from my thoughts, chastising myself. “Okay. I’ll have something for him at The House before you leave.”
“What are you—”
“Relax, control freak.” He sighs, “I have something in mind. I just have to move some things around to make it happen.”
“Oh, but—” I protest, wanting to know what he’s bringing.
“Rylee,” he interrupts, “this is the part where you let someone else handle the details. All you have to say is ‘Thank you, Colton. I owe you one,’ and hang up.”
I pause momentarily, knowing he is right but wanting to know anyway. “Thank you, Colton,” I comply.
“And?” he prompts.
I remain silent for a few moments. I can almost hear his smirk. “And I owe you one.”
“And you can bet I’ll collect on it.” His seductive laugh fills the phone until I hear the dial tone on the other end.
22
Damn it! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to Aiden. I shouldn’t have told him that I had something to fix what had happened yesterday. I shouldn’t have depended on someone like Colton to come through when I am so used to relying on
myself. He hasn’t even answered my texts or calls this morning.
I glance at the clock and another minute has ticked by. It’s seven fifty-two and I need to get the boys into action in order to get them to school on time. Mike’s already left to take Shane and Connor to high school. Bailey has already come and left to take Zander to his therapist’s appointment and Kyle to the eye doctor before dropping him back off at school. I’m left with the remaining three elementary school kids, and I know that getting them in the car should have started ten minutes ago.
I glance at the clock again and it’s seven fifty-three now. Shit! “Rylee, are you going to tell me what it is yet?” Aiden begs again with hope in his eyes.
“Not yet, Aiden. It’s a surprise.” Now I have to scramble to think of something to do to make up for an empty promise.
I could strangle Colton right now. What did I expect from a careless playboy? I guess if there isn’t a promise of getting laid at the end of the deal then he’s not going to follow through. I pound a fist on the table, the silverware on it rattling, knowing I’m overreacting after how much he did for the boys. But at the same time, he’s letting down one of my boys and he’s letting me down too.
I start stuffing lunches into the backpacks that Aiden is handing me, concentration etched on his face as he tries to figure out what I can possibly have to help him. “C’mon, guys. It’s time to go!” I shout. Aiden, my little helper, leaves the kitchen to go see what they are up to.
When after a few minutes I don’t hear the usual scurry of feet, I sigh in frustration and head out toward the hallway. “Ricky, Scooter … C’mon, guys, its time to go!” I turn the corner to the hallway and do a double take when I see Colton standing in the foyer with the door open behind him. The sun is at his back, casting his body and dark features in a halo. Three little boys stand in front of him, their backs to me, but I can see all of their heads angled up to look at him. He steps further into the room smiling briefly at me, before turning his attention to Aiden.
Love in the Dark Page 70
