House of Payne: Ice

by Stacy Gail

  “Sunny, you dropped your entire life so you could be with him.”

  “That’s not how it went,” Sunny said firmly. “I was ambitious and hungry for a challenge right out of college. When I saw the potential Skull and Bones had, I went for it. Ice had nothing to do with it.”

  “Girl, you’re not fooling anyone, except maybe yourself.” Hannah shook her head until her thick black curls bounced around her face. “No matter how you dress it up, your actions speak volumes of love and loyalty—beautiful elements that make up who you are. But he’s not like that,” she went on before Sunny could get a word in edgewise. “Ice doesn’t feel with all the depth of his soul like you do. Hell, almost no one in the world does that, and that’s what makes you so special. But he’s not special, hon. He’s like his name—cold all the way to his core, with nothing but a chunk of ice for a heart. He’s not worth your loyalty, or your love, so look me in the eye and tell me you’re not going to let him into your life again.”

  “Fine.” With a magnificently casual shrug, Sunny turned to face her friend fully.

  And went completely blank.

  Damn it.

  Hannah crossed her arms. “I’m waiting. Tell me you’re not going to let Ice Eisen back into your life. Tell me this Dan asshole taught you the lesson that pretty, shallow, self-absorbed men are a plague to good women everywhere. That’s what Ice has been too you, Sunny—he’s a plague you’ve already managed to survive once. Don’t give him a second chance to kill you.”

  She took a deep breath, and before she knew it the truth fell out of her mouth. “I’m seeing him tomorrow.”

  “Oh my God, no.”

  “Yes.” Straightening her shoulders, Sunny looked her friend square in the eye. “He can’t get to me, Hannah. Not anymore. He burned every bridge that led to my heart. What I’m going to do is work him completely out of my system. Then I’ll walk away once and for all. I’ve got this under control.”

  Hannah groaned. “How is it possible you don’t realize that sounds like a recipe for disaster? Seriously, how?”

  “I’ve got this under control,” she said again, and this time she was the one who needed to hear it.

  Chapter Eight

  “You didn’t have to drive all the way out here to meet me,” Ice announced by way of greeting as Sunny approached, the backdrop of MSI’s main Christmas tree behind him. “I could’ve picked you up at your place.”

  “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, you’re persona non grata in the Fairfax household. If you think Chicago’s cold, it’s nothing compared to the welcome you’d receive if you dared to set foot inside the Fairfax house.” Taking the bull by the horns, Sunny stepped right up and kissed him. All the while she braced for him to push her away, because sending out mixed messages was Ice’s preferred way of communicating. But to her surprise he returned the kiss with gusto, then held onto her hips when she broke the contact, as if he didn’t want her to go too far. “What do you think of the Museum of Science and Industry decked out in all its Christmas finery? Pretty cool, yeah?”

  “I thought you were nuts, wanting to meet up at a place that sounded like a cure for insomnia. But the second I walked in and saw all this, I knew why you wanted to come here.” Despite his words, he didn’t look around at the dozen or so brilliantly lit and decorated trees ringing the forty-five-foot tall main tree, or the cleverly hidden mechanisms high up in the ceiling that made fake snow fall gently around them. Instead his gaze seemed to be stuck permanently on her. “How’d your family thing go last night?”

  She blinked, surprised he remembered. “Excellent. Every Saturday, it’s my turn to cook for the family, so last night I made fish tacos with that creamy Baja sauce you like so much. Do you remember it?”

  He groaned. “Damn, that shit’s good. Now I’m going to be craving that for the rest of the day.”

  “Next week I think I’ll introduce them to sun-dried tomato and pesto bruschetta-style pizza. That balsamic drizzle makes it.”

  “I’ll bring the wine.”

  She snorted as they began to move around the echoing, rotunda-style room. “What part of persona non grata did you not get? In case your Latin’s rusty, it means you’re a person who’s not welcome in the Fairfax home.”

  “Am I welcome to you?”

  Talk about a loaded question. “I’m not the only one who lives there.”

  “You’re the only one who matters.”

  The impact of those words made her breath catch, but it evened out when she reminded herself that they were just that—words. “What matters is keeping the peace. For however long my father has left, I’m not going to allow any crazy-pants drama to upset his environment. That means I meet you anyplace that isn’t home.”

  “He’s that bad, then?”

  “It’s an aggressive form of dementia.” Her throat tightened with the anguish that never seemed far away, and her breathing nearly strangled to a stop. To combat it, she stopped in front of a tall folk art “tree,” with several thin dowels branching out from a carved wooden spindle that acted as the tree’s trunk. Swedish flags, hearts and reindeer hung from the dowels, and she tried to concentrate on the Swedish version of a Christmas tree rather than on how her whole life had been falling apart, piece by piece, over the past year. “While he was still capable of making decisions, my dad made it very clear he wanted his illness kept quiet. We’re all doing our best to abide by those wishes.”

  She felt his gaze on her profile. “Just when I think I know everything about you, I discover another layer. As sorry as I am about the circumstances, seeing this side of you fascinates me.”

  What side was she showing? Whatever it was, it was an accident. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that when you’re out in public like we are now, you pretend everything’s sunshine and rainbows. Just looking at you, no one would ever guess your life is tearing apart at the seams. But it is, isn’t it?”

  Dear God, he could see that much? Not good. “I’m not important in this scenario, so what I’m feeling doesn’t matter. This is about a good man keeping his dignity, and his secrets. That’s the main point right there,” she added with a smile that hurt, because smiling was the last thing she felt like doing. “My father’s stupid secrets. He’s always kept so much of himself locked away. Living a lifetime like that, I suppose it’s only natural he’s going out the way he came in. No one will ever know who the real Archie Fairfax was until he’s long gone, and probably not even then.”

  “Secrets are a poison, both for the one who has the secrets, and for the one who digs them up.” He reached for her hand, and she couldn’t help but be grateful for that simple show of support. “Keeping your dad’s declining health a secret is putting one helluva strain on you, Sunny. I can see it, hear it in your voice. Gotta say, I don’t like that shit one bit.”

  “I’m not a fan of it, either. But this is my life now.”

  He digested that for a few moments. “I’m also not liking how easily you said you’re not important. You’re looking out for your dad in his final days, and I get that. Like you said, he’s a good man and you’re a good daughter. But who’s looking out for you? Who helps you blow off steam when the pressure you’re living under gets to be too much?”

  The thought was so alien to Sunny that she blanked on an answer. Then she shrugged and moved to the next display. “I don’t need anyone to do that. I have me, in all my considerable glory. Why would I need anyone else?”

  “I’ll be the first to admit you’re cool under fire. But when life shovels a ton of shit your way, shit you have no hope of avoiding, that’s when you lean on the people you know you can count on.”

  He had to be fricking kidding. “Counting on people is overrated,” she muttered, pulling her hand from his. “I did it once. Worst decision ever.”

  “That was a shot at me, wasn’t it?” He stopped her as they were moving from one large room to the next and turned her so that she faced him fully. “Don’t screw
around with word games. I know you’ve got the lady balls, so say it straight to my face. You don’t think you can count on me.”

  “Of course I can’t count on you,” she blurted, hating that truth because it hurt her heart in ways she couldn’t explain. But she needed him to understand that this was how things were now. “Reverse our roles, Ice. If you were me, you’d feel the same way—no trust. No belief. End of story.”

  “You know what I’d do? I’d sure as hell think about how long we’ve known each other, how long we’ve been dipping in and out of each other’s lives, and recognize how solid we are. I’d put that up against the one and only time it appeared like I didn’t have your back. Then I’d do a calculation, a calculation that’d make me think not everything is as it seems. I’d trust in that—trust in me—and then I’d find a way to let the past go.”

  Like hell he would. “This, from the man who just said he doesn’t like secrets.”

  “What?”

  “You’re basically saying there’s another reason why you fired me, aside from some Hollywood producer telling you that I tested badly in a demographic. But then you’re not telling me what it is.”

  He shook his head. “What I’m saying is that I’m done with the past, and you should be done with it, too. Stop holding grudges that make you miserable, leave the past in the past like I’m doing, and let it the fuck go.”

  “Gee, whatever would I do if you weren’t here to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do in the wake of you plowing through my life like a wrecking ball?” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Then her gaze snagged on the arch above them and she made a hasty grab for his arm. “We need to move.”

  “What the—oh.” Following her gaze, Ice frowned up at the mistletoe hanging above their heads before glancing back to her. “Why the panic? It’s not like we’ve never kissed before.”

  “Because kissing under the mistletoe is… I don’t know. Different from what we do.”

  “Different how?”

  Seriously? She had to explain this? “Kisses under the mistletoe are special. They’re all about sweet emotion and warmth and sentimentality. They’re about finding where you belong, and a beautiful, hopeful sharing. They’re a promise of love.” Then she shook her head, frustrated she couldn’t seem to accurately express what a kiss under the mistletoe meant. “Basically they’re everything we’re not, so let’s keep moving, all right? Standing here with you makes me feel weird.”

  “Too bad.” Before she knew what was happening, Ice had her wrapped up in his arms, plastered against his chest and utterly unable to move. “If you’re not down with sweet emotions and finding out where you belong, why the hell did you kiss me a few minutes ago? Why meet up with me at all?”

  “Um.” Danger flags were popping up like crazy in her head, so she chose her next words with care. “Because I wanted to. I wanted to kiss you. And if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to have sex with you.” There. That should make him happy.

  But for some reason it didn’t, if his intensifying scowl was any indication. “Sex, huh?”

  “That’s right. Sex.” He could thank her later.

  “So let me get this straight. Sex is fine, but you don’t want to kiss me under a mistletoe. Have I got that right?”

  She knew it was weird, but… “That’s right.”

  “And you don’t want me anywhere near your home.”

  “Correct.”

  “Or your family.”

  “Oh God, no.” The very thought made her shudder.

  “But you’re cool with sex?”

  “Why not? There’s nothing wrong with having fun.”

  “Uh-huh.” His hand came up to sift through her hair a moment before his fingers closed into a fist. “Most guys would probably go for a no-strings deal like that and be happy for the offer.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “I just want to know when it was you started to think I was like most guys.”

  Whoops. “Uh…”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond any more than that. His mouth came down on hers with an almost punishing pressure, and with his hand clenched in her hair she had no hope of avoiding it. She also had no way of avoiding the fact that his ferocity was fueled by the unmistakable flavor of anger. That was surprising. What did he have to be angry about? Her offer had been legit. Moreover, she was trying to do what he wanted—put the past behind her once and for all, and look ahead to the future. If he didn’t want to have sex with her, kissing the breath out of her now was a strange way of making his case.

  When he at last raised his head, her lips throbbed with the imprint of his mouth. To be branded by a kiss was such a strangely erotic sensation, she couldn’t help but touch a hand to her sensitized lips.

  “This is how life is going to go.” Ice’s voice was gratifyingly rough as his burning-hot gaze slid to her mouth. “You’re going to ditch the no-strings attitude, because I’m going to do everything a man can do for his woman to prove we’re worth more than a no-strings attitude. Do you have any questions about this matter so far?”

  She supposed it was nice of him to ask. “I don’t know what it is that you want from me. Whatever it is, I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

  “Why? Did Dan fucking Harper break your heart that much? I should have knocked out more of that cocksucker’s teeth,” he gritted out, looking so damn dangerous she almost missed the enormity of his statement.

  “What? Dan Harper?” She stared at him, stunned he even knew the name. Then the rest of his statement sank in. “Wait, you knocked out Dan’s teeth? Why? When?” The last time she’d seen him, Dan had been his usual gorgeous self who had shown up to do a bogus toothpaste ad. Clearly he’d been unblemished and had all his choppers at the time.

  Ice dismissed her question with an impatient shake of his head. “Answer me, Sunny. Did that fucker break your heart so much you’ve decided men aren’t worth all the bullshit?”

  “No, of course not,” she said, baffled and more than a little unsettled. How the hell did he know about Dan? “I’m the one who broke up with him, though that’s hardly any of your business.”

  “It is, especially now. Tell me you didn’t fall for him.”

  What in the world? “Don’t be ridiculous, it never got that far. We’d only gone on a couple dates before I broke things off, and I certainly wasn’t in love with him.” Then she made a sound of frustration, irked with herself for answering. “Why are we even talking about this? I didn’t even know you knew his name, much less that we were starting to date. I made sure our actual dates never wound up on the show, so how do you even—”

  “I’ve never watched so much as an episode of that goddamn show,” came the surprising reply. “But I did keep tabs on you, even when you did your best to hide shit like that from me. That’s why I wanted you working at Skull and Bones in the first place—so I could keep an eye on you.”

  “So you could keep an eye on me? What does that even mean? Why would you even imagine you had the right or authority to keep an eye on me?”

  “Because I fucking do. Next question.”

  Honest to God, the arrogance… “I never hid my relationship with Dan from you, or anyone,” she muttered furiously, because that was the sort of thing her father had done his whole life. She might be forever burdened with keeping that secret, but she would never allow anyone to accuse her of being like her father, by God. “There was nothing to hide. I just didn’t want my private life splashed all over TV. I’m sure you were the same way with the women you dated while we were doing the show.”

  “We’re not talking about me right now.”

  “Maybe we should, because there were women,” she shot back, remembering a few who’d traipsed into Skull and Bones Ink claiming to be “personal friends” of Ice’s. None of them had ever shown up more than once, but Sunny knew exactly who they were and why they were there. “In the two years I worked at Skull and Bones, there were women you, er, dated, though you d
id seem to have a one-and-done attitude about them.”

  “I don’t even remember their names, and I repeat—we are not fucking talking about me. We’re talking about you, and how you’re never going to think about that assclown or even say his name again. As of now, he doesn’t exist. He’s nothing, not even a thought in your head. I’m the only man in your life now, so I’m the only one who’s allowed to own your headspace.”

  I’m the only man in your life now. For some reason, the mere thought of Ice being “her man” brought her to the ragged edge of hyperventilation. “Look, I met up with you here because I wanted to share a part of my hometown with you when it’s decked out in its holiday finest. Can’t we just enjoy the Christmas trees and lights and customs from around the world, and not be so freaking serious? I mean, when was being serious ever your thing?”

  “Being serious about you has always been my thing.”

  Without warning, her heart stopped “That’s not how I remember it.”

  “That’s because you see me as the villain. Admit it.”

  He had her there. “You don’t expect me to call you a hero, do you?”

  “I expect one helluva lot from you, Sunny day. Stop looking at me like I’m the bad guy, see who I really am, and make peace with the fact that I am your hero, whether you like it or not. Make no mistake, you and I are happening.” Letting go of her hair, he caught her hand in his and led the way into the next room.

  “There he is, Chicago’s newest Romeo. Great fucking way to kick off a Monday, yeah?”

  Tugging his gloves off and stuffing them into his coat pockets, Ice frowned at Twist Santiago and his wife, Angel, as he entered through House Of Payne’s rear door. Like him, they were shedding their outerwear in the alcove partially hidden beneath the metal and glass brick stairs. “What are you talking about?”

  “Uh-oh, he doesn’t know.” Angel, with her platinum blonde hair highlighted with pink and blue dreads, gave him a rueful glance as Twist helped her out of her bubblegum-pink parka. “I know you said when you first came here that you just wanted to live the quiet life, and that’s awesome. Totally respect your desire for low-key. The thing is, you had a number-one reality TV show not too long ago, so that makes you kind of famous.”