by Alexa Riley
“Here are some cookies to take home.” Wyatt takes my dad’s advice and takes the box from her.
“That’s mighty sweet of you. How did you know I had a sweet tooth?”
“Who doesn't?” He walks back to his car and I call out to him.
“Thanks again, Wyatt.” But as soon as I say the words, something hits me. “Wyatt, wait!” I rush over to the driver side door. “I didn't pay you or anything, but you knew my name.” I don’t know why this is only just now dawning on me
“It seems you have an admirer.” He winks at me before closing the window and waving goodbye.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Mom takes my wrists and pulls me toward the house as Dad carries my suitcase inside.
“Nothing.” I give her a bright smile as I wonder if there’s a way Miller could have sent him.
“How was the flight?” Mom asks as she hangs my coat up inside. I’ve barely crossed the front door and Cookie is all over me.
She’s covered in flour and icing and her hair is a lopsided mess. “You’ve gotta give this baking thing up,” I tell her, squeezing her close.
“Practice makes perfect.” She kisses my cheek and gets everything on me in the process. “You never texted me back.”
“I know, I was running late and then my phone was off on the plane.” She stares at me for a long moment like she’s trying to figure something out.
“I forgot to show you something.” She drags me along with her before I can try and save myself. Suddenly we’re moving straight into my old bedroom.
“Who’s got your cheeks all rosy?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Um, the temperature outside?” It’s a lame suggestion but a plausible one.
“Where’s your phone?”
I hold my purse close to my chest, and she lunges at me and screams. I fall back onto the bed and a fight for my purse ensues. Seconds later, Mom bursts into the bedroom and Cookie stands up with a giant smile on her face, holding my purse over her head like a champion. Five years ago we would have been in so much trouble for this, but Mom just laughs.
Cookie reaches into my bag and pulls out my phone. “Looks like you have a text from someone named Miller. Let’s see what it says.”
“Oh shit,” I whisper, and suddenly my mom doesn’t think it’s so funny.
Chapter Six
Miller
I stare at the message I sent to Pumpkin and wait for a response while Frost addresses the boardroom. He’s telling them about the sale and what our next steps will be. This is all something that could have been done over an email, but he felt like the board members should hear it directly from us now that our plans to come home have changed.
We weren’t supposed to be here, and yet I can’t help but be thankful that I was on that flight. Thankful to meet my sweet Pumpkin.
“Miller,” my brother says, and I look up from my phone. “Do you have anything to add?”
He scowls at me, and I nod as I stand up from my seat. “Meeting is adjourned.”
I walk out of the boardroom without a backward glance, but I can feel my brother's eyes burning into my back. He takes things too seriously sometimes, and it’s my job to remind my twin that he’s got to let go every once in a while. Too bad it never works.
Frost and I share an office on this floor, and when I walk inside, I see the landscape of the city below. I step to the wall of glass and look out, wondering where Pumpkin is and what she's doing right now. I message the driver and ask for the address of where he dropped her off, and I don’t analyze why I want it so badly.
“What’s gotten into you?” Frost scolds as he closes our office door and goes over to his desk. “This is important, Miller, you can’t just fuck off at the finish line.”
“What do they care? They’re all making enough money that their generations never have to work again.” I wave a hand dismissively as he curses me in Russian.
“You’re obsessed with your phone.” When I look over at him, he’s cutting his eyes at me. “Is she texting you?”
I shrug and tuck it into my pocket. I’m not ready to reveal everything to Frost, which is unlike us. We don’t keep secrets. “Have you heard from our mother?”
He takes a seat in his chair and leans back, sighing. “She called and left a voicemail.” He tosses his phone onto his desk and then a moment later he hits a button and her voice fills the office.
“Hello, Frost, please let your brother know that I want to meet tomorrow to discuss important matters. Your father will be here, so I expect you both to be on your best behavior.” There’s a long pause as if she is summoning her patience. “You both owe me.”
Frost shuts his phone off, and neither of us says anything for a long time. I don’t know that we owe her anything, but there is a guilt that comes along with the favors she asks. She might not have been a good mother, but they did the right thing and sent us away, together. For a long time our father threatened to separate us, and I knew that would have killed Frost and me. He knew it too, which was why it was his favorite weapon.
“Do you think she wants money?” Frost finally asks.
“Why not just ask for it? She knows we would gladly pay it to not see her.”
Our relationship is complicated, and I hate that one phone call from her occupies so much of our headspace. Most of the time we never speak their names and don’t bring up the painful memories. But when our mother calls, it all comes back, and I can feel everything Frost does. The anxiety, the guilt, the longing. It’s all too much, and I don’t know how much longer we can do it.
“Thanksgiving is in two days, but she wants to see us tomorrow,” Frost says, and the statement makes me think.
Normally our parents throw lavish holiday parties, so it’s strange she would want us there the day before and not the day of.
“Maybe it’s a ploy to get us to attend.”
Vera knocks lightly on the door and steps inside. “I had a late lunch delivered.” She wheels in a tray, and my stomach grumbles as our office manager lays out food for us.
“Is Wyatt back yet?” I ask, and she thinks for a second and nods.
“I believe I saw him downstairs when I picked up the food. Do you need me to page him?”
“Nyet.” I shake my head and check my phone to see he hasn’t responded yet.
“You’ve got a conference call with the Australian team in twenty minutes,” Vera reminds us on her way out. “I’ll page you just before so you can log on.”
“How many more meetings do we have scheduled today?” I grumble as I grab one of the sandwiches.
“Six.”
I scowl at Frost, and I see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He’s enjoying this way too much.
My cell phone vibrates, and I look down to see a text from Pumpkin. I try to hide my excitement as I unlock and read the message.
* * *
Pumpkin: Made it home safe, thanks for checking on me!
Me: Are you free tonight for dinner?
* * *
I send the text without a second thought. I already know I want to see her again, and although we will be in meetings for hours, I need to have this settled before I’m finished. As I wait, I see the bubbles come up on the screen and then disappear like she’s typing but changing her mind. After what feels like an eternity, she finally sends a message back.
Pumpkin: I’m sorry, I have plans with my family.
My heart sinks, but I refuse to give up.
Me: Dessert? A late drink? Midnight stroll? Sunrise coffee?
My foot taps nervously as I wait for a response, and when it finally comes, I can’t read it fast enough.
Pumpkin: I’m not sure…
What are the dots? Why is she not sure? Did she not enjoy her time with me on the plane? She asked me to spend Thanksgiving with her family, and now she’s playing coy? Just then another text comes in from Wyatt with her address, and I can feel my sinister smile growing. All right, little Pumpkin, play hard to get.
Me: You will have dessert with me tonight. I will pick you up at nine o’clock. Wear a dress.
This time the response comes quickly.
Pumpkin: Okay.
I smile as I place my phone on my desk and look over at Frost, who has probably been watching me the entire time. He shakes his head at me as he eats his lunch and Vera calls in to tell us it’s time for our next meeting.
Perhaps today will turn out much better than I had anticipated.
Chapter Seven
Pumpkin
I toss my phone onto the bed like it’s a hot stone burning my skin.
“I said yes,” I tell Cookie in a panic, and her eyebrows rise but she sure as hell doesn't ask why I’ve had this change of heart. My voice is higher than it should be, so she knows something is up, and I’m trying to play it off. “I don’t even know this guy. He could be a killer searching for someone to cut his magazines into pieces and make ransom notes to send to the police. Or you know, become his next victim.”
“That would be stupid of him. First he demands to sit next to you so that asshole will leave you alone. Then he gets your phone number—if he didn't want to see you he wouldn't have asked for it. I say he’s more than interested, and he might be letting you lead. Some men don’t want to be pushy. I mean, look at how he dealt with that prick on the plane.”
“Is it terrible that kind of turned me on?” I ask sheepishly.
“Nope. He could just be obsessed with you.” I stop pacing to look at her. “Not like, murder-you obsessed.” She rolls her eyes at me like I’m the crazy one. “I think this is the sexy kind where he can’t keep his hands off you and he’s always calling and texting.”
“Are you trying to scare me or reassure me?” I push the obsession thing to the back of my mind. That’s not going to happen because we’re opposite in every way. Especially when it comes to appearances. I’m not saying I’m ugly, I’m just not on his level. At this very moment I’m wearing a shirt that says Dr. Pepper on it and leggings with ripped-up shorts over them. I changed when I got back home because here I can be me.
I saw how the airline attendants looked at us as I was sitting there with him. They could tell by looking at us we were not really a couple, or maybe they were jealous he was staring at me. The man was attentive to my every need, and he hadn’t given anyone else a glance the whole time he was talking to me.
“You’ll be fine. I’m sure he’ll take you somewhere nice. If worse comes to worst, text me and I’ll pick you up after you sneak out of the back door to the place.”
“That’s really rude to just disappear on someone.” Or maybe I’m just projecting because that once happened to me with someone I met on a dating app. I deleted the app because I didn't need that shit in my life.
“Trust me, some of them deserve more than being skipped out on during dinner.” She rolls her eyes, and I hate that jerkface for making my sister throw in the towel on dating. She used to be the boy crazy one until Jarret stomped all over her heart.
Not that I have room to talk because my dating life is nonexistent. “Maybe we’ll become spinsters and have twenty cats,” I offer.
“You have no idea how much I want that dream to become a reality.” Cookie giggles and then sighs. We’ve always wanted a kitten, but Mom and Dad are allergic.
“You know you want the happily ever after and a house full of babies.” I nudge her shoulder.
“We can’t always get what we want.” Her words are filled with sadness, and my heart sinks for her.
Fuck Jarret. All the girls wanted him when we were in high school, but he went after Cookie and ripped her self-esteem apart in the process. All because of that fuckface Jarret she tries to hide herself. She tries to put on a good face, but I know better. The shit he said to her still burns deep inside, and no matter how men look at her now or try to engage, she shuts them down.
Jarret told the whole school he took her virginity, which is not only fucked up because it’s private, but also insane because it wasn’t true. He said he “popped her cherry,” telling everyone he made her bleed. I thought it was only fair that I made him bleed too. I glance down at my right index finger, and there's still a small scar there if I really look. I sucker punched him right in the face and was shocked I did it. It was out of character for me, but I guess when you mess with my family, my dark side comes out.
Of course no one ever found out about it because Jarret told people his sister opened the door and nailed him right in the face. He didn't want anyone knowing that a girl dropped his ass.
“What shall we wear for our date?” Cookie asks she goes over to my closet and looks through all my clothes.
“It’s not a date, it’s only dessert and coffee. I can’t skip family dinner—I’ve missed too many already being away.”
“Oh, I’m sure the two of you will work something out.” She winks at me and then hands me a red wrap dress that ties in the front.
I’ve never worn it before, but when I put it on and look in the mirror, all I can think about is how easily Miller could untie it. One tug would reveal everything under it.
“You’re a grown woman, Pumpkin. You can spend the night out.”
“But then I’d hear about it all day tomorrow.”
“Enough orgasms might make up for it.”
I snort a laugh, but she’s not wrong. Miller is the first man to make me feel true desire. What is so wrong with exploring that? He’s nothing like some of the men others have tried to set me up with. We work hard for everything we have, and we do it as a family, and I need to be with someone who understands that.
If Miller wants to see where this is going, then I want him to know that I’m just me, and I don't want to try to be something I’m not.
Chapter Eight
Miller
When my driver pulls up to the front of her house, I wave him off and open my own door. The house is modest but in a nice neighborhood that looks to have a lot of families around them. I walk to the front door and raise my hand to knock, but it’s jerked open wide before my knuckles can make contact.
“What are you doing here?” Pumpkin hisses at me, and although she looks surprised and a little angry, she’s stunning.
“Krasota.” I call her “beauty” in Russian and she pauses as her eyebrows pull together.
“It’s Pumpkin, or did you forget?” She tries to come outside with me and close the door behind her, but the door is tugged open once again.
“I could never forget you,” I whisper in her ear as several people appear all at once.
“Whoa, he’s big,” a young woman—Cookie, I’m guessing—says as she steps forward.
“And early.” Pumpkin looks at the phone in her hand and then up at me. “You didn’t even ask where I lived.”
I point over my shoulder and Wyatt waves from the driver's seat.
“Oh,” is all she says as I step forward to greet her family.
“I am Miller Ranov, I’m here to take Pumpkin for a dessert.” I hold out my hand to her mother, and she takes it as she looks at her daughters with wide eyes.
“I’m Rose, it’s nice to meet you.”
I extend my hand to her father next as he introduces himself. “You can call me Winter, and this is our other daughter Cookie.”
“I’ve heard much about you,” I say to her and bow my head.
“I’m sure it was all lies.” She elbows Pumpkin in the side, and Pumpkin hisses something back at her.
“We should go.” Pumpkin takes me by the arm, but I’m rooted to the spot.
“Do you not want me to give your family details on where we’re going?”
She bites her bottom lip as she looks at her waiting family and then back at me. “I’ll text them on the way. We don’t want to be late.”
This time when she pulls my arm, I go with her because I can see that this meeting has made her uncomfortable. Is she ashamed of me?
“It was nice to meet you,” I say to her family as I open the ca
r door and help Pumpkin inside.
They all stand there and watch until I get into the car with her and close the door. I see Cookie waving at Pumpkin, and then Pumpkin ducks her head as the car pulls away from the curb.
“Do you not wish to be seen with me?” I ask, being direct.
“What?” She sits up and looks behind us and then looks back at me. “No, not at all.”
“Then why do you hide like you are embarrassed?” I can feel myself scowling as I wait for her excuse.
“You showed up early, and I hadn’t exactly prepared my family for you, and…” She waves her hand at me like it’s obvious. “Then some Russian god in a suit shows up, and to be honest, I wasn’t exactly ready to see you again. I thought maybe I’d dreamed you up in my mind, and I never got another text, so I just stood there waiting and then you showed up like a movie and—”
I lean forward and kiss her, cutting off her rambling doubts and insecurities. The feel of her soft lips against mine is smooth and supple like fresh cream. She’s still at first, but as I move my hands to her face and cup her cheeks, she tilts her head and kisses me back. Her mouth opens, and I am unable to control myself as I slide my tongue in to taste her. I moan as her warmth welcomes me and she tastes of cinnamon and something buttery.
“Have you already had dessert, or are you always this sweet?” I nibble on her bottom lip before I lick her there and then kiss her again.
She doesn’t have a chance to respond as I take my time learning her lips and how she likes to be kissed. She leads me with eager nibbles of her own and presses her body to mine.
When I feel her hand on my thigh moving higher, I place one hand on the base of her neck and then rest my forehead against hers. I take a breath before moving my lips to her ear. “We must slow down.”
“Um, yeah,” she answers breathlessly.
