RISK
Page 8
"Will it be River?" I ask quietly.
His arms cross over his chest. My eyes fall once again to the skin that is exposed right where his pants hang open. I can see the barest hint of his black boxer briefs and the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath them.
"No." He narrows his eyes. "You don't actually like that guy."
"Are you asking me if I do or telling me I don't?"
"I'm stating a fact."
"I might like him."
"But you don't," he says assuredly.
"You don't know that, Nolan."
"I know you like me." He straightens his stance. "River and I are nothing alike, so it stands to reason that you don't like him."
"Am I anything like the woman who wrote on your hand?"
His gaze drops to his left hand. He flips it over to reveal a now bare palm. "Who said it was a woman who wrote on my hand?"
I did. It was an easy assumption to make. An uneven heart was drawn near his thumb. It was a sweet accent to the phrase I LUV U which was scribbled in black ink across the middle of his palm. "A man wrote it?"
"Strike two. You have one last chance before I get to ask you a question."
"You wrote it for someone or maybe to yourself?" I joke.
"If I wrote it I'd take the time to write out each letter. I'm not lazy when it comes to those three words." He studies me, his expression softening. "But no, I limit the self-love to messages written on my bathroom mirror. I try to keep the ego in check in public."
I laugh. "Do you think you're doing a good job with that?"
"Fair." He half-shrugs. "I'd say I'm doing a fair job with it. It's my turn to ask you a question."
My eyes flick over his body. It's now dotted with sweat. I follow the path of his chest, to his neck and finally to his face. His hair has morphed from styled perfection to damp tousled mess. Somehow he looks even more handsome than he did when he first got here. "What's the question?"
"Can I call you Bean too?" His eyes soften as he smiles. "Say yes."
"No." I shake my head quickly. "You can't."
He leans forward until his lips are almost brushing mine. His voice is barely a whisper. The movement of his mouth, so close to my own, drives my pulse to race. "Can I call you my date for tomorrow night?"
I draw in a quiet breath. "I remember something about a good bottle of cabernet and a steak. Is that still on the menu?"
"We can have whatever you want. If you agree to have dinner with me, I'll eat dirt and drink week old coffee. Just tell me it's a go."
"What about my job?" I pause and pull back. "I lost one job because of a man. I don't want to repeat history."
He tips his head. His eyes are pinned to mine. "That man is an idiot. In case you haven't noticed yet, I'm not. "
"I know it's just one date, but I like this job. I want to keep it for now."
"For now?" He studies my face. "You have aspirations beyond Matiz?"
"Of course," I answer confidently. "I'll tighten your security and then I'll chase my dream job."
"What's your dream job, Ellie?"
It feels too personal to share. It's the only job I've wanted since I was a kid. One day I'll be a member of the New York Police Department. I'm determined.
"I might tell you about that on our date if we can come to an agreement about my job security."
He nods. "As of tomorrow morning, you report to Crew. He's your boss. You run everything past him. I have no say in anything related to your position at Matiz."
I bite the corner of my lip. "You'll honor that even if we end up in a place where we're not on speaking terms?"
"That will never happen."
"It could happen, Nolan."
"It won't. I can assure you, that I won't stop speaking to you."
"You can't see into the future," I point out. "You don't know what tomorrow will bring."
"I do know what tomorrow will bring." He reaches forward to push back a piece of hair that has fallen loose of my ponytail. "Tomorrow I'm going to have dinner with you."
I don't move as he glides his fingers from my cheek down to my neck. I'm still dressed in what I hastily put on after having a cool shower when I got home from work.
I meant to throw a T-shirt over my bikini top, but I've been too pre-occupied with everything that's happened since Nolan arrived. For the first time tonight, I feel exposed. Goosebumps crawl up my skin at his touch.
His gaze lingers on my mouth. "So we're in agreement that I'll pick you up here tomorrow at eight for dinner?"
I dart my hand in the air between us. "Yes, we have an agreement. We'll go on a date and Crew is my boss. Let's shake on it."
His tongue slicks his bottom lip as his hand slides to the back of my neck. He cups it, tilting my head slightly. He leans close, his breath rushing over my cheek. "Let's seal it with a kiss."
I breathe in the masculine scent of his skin when I feel his soft lips brush across my forehead.
Chapter 17
Nolan
I should have been all in. Lips, hands, cock. She was right there. Her mouth inches from mine, her breathing as rough as my own.
I wanted the memory of last night just as it was. The lingering kiss on her forehead, her fingers drifting to my bare chest and then my hand tightening its grip on the soft, smooth skin at the back of her neck.
I held back, instead staring into her eyes so she could see something in me that the asshole who fucked her over doesn't possess. I don't know him, but I want to be a better man than him.
When the property manager knocked on the door, Ellie pivoted away from me and the moment was lost. I didn't expect the guy to show up until I'd left, but dropping Crew's name during our phone call was all it took. He was there within minutes with keys in hand, eager to take Ellie to her temporary home on the second floor.
She changed her clothes, thanked me awkwardly while the guy watched our every move and then I left. I exited the building to a warm breeze and air thin enough that I could finally breathe. That's what I did. I stood on the street, looking up at her apartment window and once the light flicked off, I finally turned away. I walked home through the streets of the city I love. This city has taken so much and given me more than I deserve.
It's the same city I'm now surveying from the window of my office. People scatter as they step off a bus. Each of them is in a rush to get to a job that steals hours from their life just to pad their bank account enough that they can barely maintain the cost of living in Manhattan.
Others wander the streets aimlessly in search of anything that will give them the hope they need to make it through another day. Those are the people no one thinks about when they're window shopping on Fifth Avenue. I think about them. I still search their faces looking for Kip.
"You cost me a new air conditioner." Crew chuckles as he walks into my office through the open door.
It's too early for Eda to be at her desk. I was up at dawn, trading breakfast for a call to London to discuss the launch of our first international location. By the time I exited my apartment the sun was flooding the streets with the lazy morning light that lures people from their beds.
I skipped the routine of stopping for a cup of coffee around the corner from my office. The smile of the tall black-haired barista who always wears our Classic Crimson lipstick used to be the perfect complement to my medium cup of dark roast. We never exchanged a word, only a knowing glance after seeing each other at a park on the Upper West Side. I walked right past the café today, my mind consumed with thoughts of Ellie.
"It was worth it," I volley back. "You're here early."
"I'm trying to impress the boss," he jokes. "Why are you here? I thought you'd still be at Ellie's place. That or in intensive care because of heat exhaustion. Jesus, it was hot in her apartment."
He has no fucking idea.
"They needed the new unit." I sit in my office chair. "You should run a check on all the air conditioners in that building if they're as dated as the one in Ellie'
s place."
"I've already made that call." He settles in one of the chairs in front of my desk. "My dad had those units installed years ago. It's time to update them."
I nod. He opened the door for a conversation about his dad that I'm slamming shut. My relationship with Crew's dad is strained. Our father-pseudo son bond was ripped to shreds when he shoved a corporate knife in my dad's back during his hostile takeover of the small investment firm they launched together.
It's business first, family second for most of the Benton family. It was the same for me at one point. My priorities changed, as have my allegiances.
Crew is the closest thing I have to a brother. I respect his relationship with his dad, but I don't huddle on the sidelines with the two of them anymore.
"The more time I spend with Ellie, the more I realize that she's nothing like Kip."
I'm caught off guard by the words. I glance at him. His face is impassive. There's nothing readable there. To him, Kip was just a girl who lived on the street a decade ago. The first time he tagged along when I took her a sandwich he introduced himself as Jeff. It was just one of the many names he used back then to keep girls from tracking him down after he'd had his fill of them.
He saw her only a handful of times. She was always wearing a black knit cap I'd given her pulled down over her forehead. Their conversations were consistently one-sided with Crew telling her stories about his adventures in Paris the summer before we met her.
He's given me shit repeatedly since then about my inability to forget about her. Even though he continually reminds me that he can't recall the barest details about her, he still weighs in whenever I ask him to.
When we knew Kip, he used to joke that my ongoing interest in her was all about the driving need to be her first. The thought churned my stomach. She was an innocent. Her trust in me wasn't currency I'd use to barter anything from her, especially that part of her soul.
I didn't want her that way. I couldn't imagine her that way. She was too young, and I was too lost in the grief of my grandmother's death that winter to see straight. I saw someone who needed help when I looked at Kip, and I know she saw the same in me.
"They're different," I agree. "Personality wise they are nothing alike. I still think Ellie looks like Kip."
He shakes his head. "I don't see it. I've always said that Kip was close to our age. I know you think she was younger but you're wrong, pal."
How do you gauge someone's age when they're thin and frail because they go to bed hungry every night? Skin is deceptive when it's burnt from the bitterly cold winds of a nor'easter. I asked Kip how old she was, but like every other question, an answer never came. It didn't matter to me. It didn't change a thing between us. We were unlikely friends, but for those two months, it worked for us.
"Besides," he continues without any prompt from me, "Ellie would have recognized you by now, pal. If she were Kip she'd know you were Rigs."
Trauma has a way of distorting memories. I should know. I cling to vague images of Kip's face that morph into something different every time I see a woman I think might be her.
"What's on your agenda today?" I easily change the subject. I'm not going to debate the topic of Kip with Crew again. We've done it too often with no resolution. It's always felt like we're digging up the past with two very different shovels.
"I'm doing that marketing meeting at nine," he says, his gaze skimming the screen of his phone. "I'm booked for lunch with my brother, and I'm dedicating my afternoon to chasing down the chemist who is working on that new mascara we want to launch in the spring."
It's a typical day for Crew. Since we graduated from college, he's had a high ranking position waiting for him in a tower across town that bears the Benton name. Still, he took a seat next to me when I inherited Matiz.
I'm not a fool. I know that eventually during one of the weekly lunches he has with his brother, Kade, he'll make the decision to jump the Matiz ship to work alongside his family. I'm preparing for that eventuality by bringing new people on board at a steady clip. I don't want to miss a beat when he finally takes the plunge.
"You still up for going to Club Aeon tonight?" He glances at me. "We can head out late. Eleven works for me, and it gives you time at home after you break free of this place."
"I'm clocking out at noon today. I'll spend the afternoon at home. I have a date tonight, so you're flying solo to the club."
"With Ellie?"
I run a hand over my tie to straighten it. "We're having dinner together."
"What if it turns into something?" He studies me. "I've seen you around her. You're different. Your dick's not driving this thing. It's more."
It is more. I don't know what it is. I can't tell if I'm infatuated with her or if this is awe. It could be pure lust with a side of admiration. I have no fucking idea what I'm feeling. All I know is that tonight I'll be sitting across a table from Ellie with the intention of going back to her place so I can sink my cock into that beautiful body.
"It's just a dinner, Crew."
He rises to his feet. "Don't let this get ahead of you. If this goes somewhere, you need to sit Ellie down and explain a few things to her."
I know exactly what he's talking about. The reminder is not only unwelcome. It's unnecessary. "I've got it covered."
As I watch him exit my office, I look down at my left hand and the fading message on my palm.
I didn't see it when I showered because I was too busy daydreaming about how Ellie looked last night. I was so engrossed in what I wanted to say during my call to London that I didn't notice it when I was getting dressed.
I see it now. I feel it now.
She was fast asleep when I got home last night so she must have written it early this morning when she crawled into bed with me. The light from the attached bathroom was filtering into my bedroom through the door I'd left ajar to offer her a safe path in case she needed me.
I felt the rustle of the blanket as she settled beneath it and the pull on my hand. I was so exhausted I kept my eyes closed as I listened to her hum a soft melody while she traced her delicate fingertips over my hand. Or what I thought were her fingertips.
I LOVE YOU
Those three words, written with so much care in black ink across my palm, are a symbol of the life I keep hidden from the world. It's a life I protect at all costs.
Chapter 18
Ellie
"You're sure you don't mind, Nolan?" Tilting my head back, I look up at him. "You'd tell me if this wasn't a good idea, wouldn't you?"
"Why would I mind?" His blue eyes sparkle as the headlights from a taxi turning a corner in our direction cast a glow over his face. "I told you I was up for drinking old coffee and eating dirt. I trust that this is better than that."
"They make the best burgers in Manhattan." I gesture toward the street cart. "I missed these so much when I was out in Vegas. I've been craving one since I got back."
"What are we waiting for?" He takes a measured step toward the long line as his gaze darts up to the concise menu printed on a white board near the cart's window. "They've got a few different burgers. What are you in the mood for?"
I smile at the question. Obviously, he's talking about the menu, but ever since Nolan picked me up, I've been in the mood to ditch dinner so I can be alone with him. He's dressed just as he always is, impeccably. Tonight it's charcoal slacks and a light blue button down shirt in the same shade as the sundress I'm wearing. He had a suit jacket on when he knocked on my door, but he slid it off after I asked if I could change our dinner plans.
He tossed the jacket to his waiting driver along with instructions to stay put. He didn't hesitate for a second when he fell into step beside me as we walked the three blocks to this spot.
"We can split a cheeseburger," I suggest. "The fries are amazing. Can you get an order of those too and maybe a bottle of water?"
His eyes flick over my face. "I got paid last Friday. I can spring for two burgers."
I laugh. "I
usually only eat half. I save the other half for the next day."
"I'll get one cheeseburger, two fries and two bottles of chilled water." He holds up two fingers in the air. "Fries are my weakness."
"Fries and blue bubble gum ice cream are your weaknesses."
He reaches forward, resting his hands lightly on my bare shoulders as he leans down so his lips are level with mine. "Fries, blue bubble gum ice cream, and a beautiful redhead are all my weaknesses, but not in that order."
"The ice cream trumps the fries?"
"No." He skims his lips over mine in the softest kiss. "Ellie trumps everything. You're proving to be my biggest weakness."
"Me?" I draw in a deep breath, my lips craving another taste of his. "How am I your biggest weakness?"
"I gave up a table at my favorite restaurant and a bottle of the best wine I've ever had to eat half of a burger on a street corner with you."
"You said you didn't mind." I tilt my head to the side. "You won't regret it after your first taste. I promise."
His eyes fall to my lips. "I have no doubt about that."
***
"Adley invited a few people from the clinic she works at over for drinks." I sigh as I rest my phone in my lap. "Unless you want to eat ice cream with an audience, my place won't work for dessert."
He takes a healthy bite of what's left of his half of the burger. By the time I'd finished my meal, he was just digging into his.
After he had picked up the food, we'd sat in two white folding, wooden chairs next to a small table in an area set up to accommodate patrons of the different food carts. While I bit into a fry, he talked about the man who had served the food to him. He's the same man who used to work this cart when Adley and I were fresh out of high school. His smile is infectious, and if you spend just a minute or two talking to him, he'll add a homemade butter cookie wrapped in cellophane and tied with blue ribbon to your tray at no charge. Nolan got two.
When he suggested we go back to my place to eat some of the ice cream he brought over last night, I eagerly agreed. It might have been an easy way to get me to ask him to hang out after dinner, but it was my intention all along. I sent Adley a text telling her to get lost for a few hours. That's when she clued me into the last minute party she's hosting.