KIRKLAND: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)

by Glenna Sinclair

  Who’d hurt him so badly that this was what they left in the wake?

  He studied my face for a long second, then he stepped back, that wall back in its place.

  “Ash cleared your apartment, so I thought you’d be more comfortable going back there this afternoon.”

  “What about the office? I left some things undone there yesterday.”

  “We can go there.”

  He handed me my seatbelt and watched as I fastened it, then he closed the door. I watched as he walked around the SUV, throwing a glance up at the house. Ricki was watching us from the doorway, a funny smile on her face. She’d pulled me aside not long after I arrived at the party and asked me about Kirkland.

  “Has he tried anything with you?”

  “No. And he probably won’t.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  I shook my head, staring down into the depths of the glass of water she’d just handed me. “I’m not his type.”

  “I didn’t think Kirkland had a type.”

  “Apparently he does, and I’m not it. I mean, look at him.”

  I turned, gesturing with my shoulder to where he stood by the front door, watching me without really looking at me. He was dressed as nicely as he’d done since the moment he walked into my office, in slacks and a silk dress shirt, a light suit jacket on top of that. He looked like he was ready to attend a movie premiere, not follow a woman in tights, heels, and a skirt with a big, fuzzy poodle applique on the front to a bridal shower. I almost felt sorry for him.

  “He’s a good guy,” Ricki said, coming to stand behind me. “When David was in the hospital and he had that infection just after surgery, Kirkland was one of the ones who was at the hospital every day no matter what was going on at the office. He didn’t have to do that.”

  “He’s loyal to his friends.”

  “And when we got engaged, it was Kirkland who helped David work out the details.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s a romantic. And he loves deeply. He just doesn’t want anyone to know it.”

  I thought about that as I watched Kirkland climb behind the wheel. I wondered if he even let himself know how deeply he loved his friends. Maybe he justified it to himself somehow, telling himself his actions were just those of a good friend. Or maybe he didn’t even do that much. Maybe he thought the things he did were things other people would do—even if they didn’t care. It’s not as if he’d had much in the way of examples in caring to follow when he was a kid.

  I felt sorry for him, and I knew that was the last thing a man like Kirkland wanted. But it wasn’t pity. It was simple sadness.

  Chapter 10

  Kirkland

  Damn weddings! It seemed like everyone was suddenly bitten by the love bug. First Donovan and Kate getting married, and now Ricki and David. Next it would be Joss and Carrington, what with the baby coming and everything. They were already living together. It would only be a matter of time.

  That left Ash and me. But if Ash found Alexi, it would only be a matter of time for them, too.

  I hated weddings. I made a joke out of it, telling everyone I enjoyed going because of the single women in attendance. But the truth was, everyone was always so desperate at weddings. The single women were desperate to find a man to put a ring on their finger. The single men were desperate the get laid. And the married people were desperate to find a way back to the romance that started it all.

  I didn’t want to have anything to do with it all.

  I sat on the couch in Mabel’s office and wondered if Ash would believe me if I told him I was sick the day of the wedding. There would be enough people there to keep Mabel safe. What did they need me for? But, again, David had convinced me to stand up with him as I did for Donovan. Same line up, just in a different order.

  Love. What the hell was love?

  Love had led my mother to marry a man who was no good, waiting at home every night for him to come home when she knew damn well that he was at the bar and he wouldn’t come home until they kicked him out. And my dad, claiming it was my mother that pushed him to the bottle in the first place.

  Then there was Christy Anne. Love made her make the stupidest decision, a decision she came to me about, but one I thought I had her talked out of. But she did it anyway. And now where was she? In a fucking grave.

  Love was just a word that sold greeting cards. It was a word men like me threw around to get girls into bed. It was a word that had no meaning beyond that.

  I stood and started to pace, making Mabel nervous. I knew she was nervous. I could see her casting sideways glances at me. But she kept working, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she did whatever it was she did.

  How could a woman who sold sex for a living believe in love? Wasn’t she as cynical as the rest of the world? Didn’t she know that love didn’t really last, that it didn’t really matter anymore? But she asked me that question, wondering if I believed in love. Stupid damn question.

  Why did women obsess so much over one little word?

  I don’t love. I don’t trust. I don’t believe that people stay for the long haul. I don’t believe that people make the right decisions when it comes to love. I don’t believe that you can really put your faith in anyone but yourself and come out with a good ending.

  I didn’t trust anyone. In the military, they kept telling me what to do, telling me to trust my fellow soldier would do the right thing and have my back. I didn’t believe that. Whenever we were in a dangerous situation, I was out for myself and I made that clear to anyone who asked. I covered my buddy’s ass, but I didn’t believe he’d cover mine. That’s why they were so hard on me, why they wouldn’t promote me. And that was fine. The military wasn’t my thing anyway.

  I don’t trust anyone at Gray Wolf. When Ash calls us a family, I silently scoff. Everyone has their own lives now. How long did Ash really believe we’d stick together? Donovan was already allowing his wife to dictate the kind of jobs he could take. Soon enough she would convince him that working for Gray Wolf was too dangerous and she’d talk him into getting a safe job, a desk job. And David. The man could make a fortune with his knowledge of technology. Eventually Ricki would convince him to build a new company with her. And Joss. She’s always been a mother without a child. Now that she has a kid on the way, she’ll turn her back on everyone at Gray Wolf faster than we could say goodbye.

  Everything is changing. They will all going their own way. There is no family.

  “Could I ask you a favor?”

  I’d almost forgotten Mabel was in the room. Or that I was in her office. I turned, dragged my hands over my closely shorn hair, and offered her a weak smile.

  “I have to decide on a new logo, and I need a man’s point of view.”

  “You’re changing your logo?”

  “Marketing thinks our logo is too stale. I don’t know where they get this stuff, but that kind of advice is what I pay them for.”

  I crossed to the desk and looked over her shoulder. The monitor on her computer was displaying the picture of a young, naked woman who had her hands placed in just the right way to hide her assets, but an expression on her face that suggested she’d let the viewer peek if they just asked nicely.

  It was far different from the simple picture of a treasure chest with gold coins exploding out of it.

  “There are three others, but this is the one my people tell me tested best with the public.”

  “What are the others?”

  Mabel pulled up two other pictures, one that was very similar to the first, but this woman was covering her assets with a large feather, reminiscent of the burlesque dancer. The third was three women, each facing away from the camera, but looking over their shoulder. They were nude, but a bar strategically placed behind them hid anything inappropriate.

  “I don’t think you should change the logo,” I said.

  “Why?”

  Mabel turned slightly, her eyes moving up to mine. She was actually looking me in
the eye these days. That seemed like a step in the right direction.

  “Because your website doesn’t just target men. It targets women, too.”

  She shrugged. “Marketing tells me our target audience is men between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five.”

  “But that’s shortsighted. You offer erotic stories and sex toys, things that women tend to buy.”

  “That’s what I said. But—”

  “You need a new marketing department.”

  She sighed, turning back to look at the pictures. “I used to rely more on the comments I got on the website than executives in suits. But things have changed over the last year, making it harder for me to keep in touch with my customers.”

  “Trust me, then. Don’t change the logo.”

  “Thanks,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. Then she opened an email app and began composing an email to her marketing department.

  I moved around the desk, halfway to the couch when she asked a question that made me stop in my tracks.

  “Have you ever visited my website?”

  I bit back a smile as I turned to look at her. “That’s a personal question.”

  She blushed a little. “Sorry. I was just…you seemed to know our logo, so I thought…”

  “It’s fine,” I said, realizing she was not the kind of girl I could tease about this sort of thing. “I’ve been on the site.”

  “Have you ever purchased any of our movies?”

  She was blushing, her eyes glued to the screen of her monitor.

  “I have.”

  She glanced at me, her eyes quickly moving away when she caught me watching her.

  “Do you watch them alone?”

  “Are you asking me if I’ve ever watched them with a lover?”

  She shrugged, but the movement was so slight and contained to one shoulder that I almost missed it.

  “I have. And you’d be surprised how much some women enjoy your movies.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she mumbled.

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked up, her eyes looking everywhere but at me. I guess I was a little premature in stating that she was finally able to look me in the eye.

  “When I first started putting movies on the website, I had to hire a guy to watch them and write me a report on it.”

  “A report?”

  “You know, what kind of movie it was, who was in it, whether there was any kind of plot or not…that sort of thing.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you just watch them yourself?”

  She met my eyes for a second then, just briefly. “I didn’t date in high school and barely dated in college. I didn’t know anything about this stuff.”

  “Have you ever seen a pornographic movie?”

  She didn’t answer me right away. She finished typing up her email, then she leaned back in her chair, her hands trapped in her lap. She looked like a troubled schoolgirl about to face down the principal. I felt for her and wanted to let her off the hook somehow, but I also really wanted an answer to my question.

  “I approve the stills they put on the website. And I chose the cover art for the stories and the artwork that accompanies most of the items we sell.”

  “But you’ve never watched a movie.”

  “I’ve seen clips here and there. But, no, I’ve never watched a full-length pornographic movie.”

  “You sell sex, but you don’t watch it.”

  “I’m the daughter of a devout Christian couple. I haven’t done a lot of things.”

  I shook my head, laughter bubbling in my chest. But I didn’t laugh out loud because I knew it would mortify her and I didn’t want to do that. But I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the whole thing, either.

  “You should call up a boyfriend and watch one before the next time the two of you get frisky.”

  She stood so quickly out of her chair I might have thought the thing had suddenly caught fire if I wasn’t standing just a few feet away. She grabbed her bag and tossed it over her shoulder, storming in her heavy platform shoes to the door.

  “I think it’s time to go,” she said.

  I followed her, wondering for a moment what I’d done. And then…no one ever said I was a brilliant guy. Sometimes it took a minute for the obvious to hit me.

  Mabel was a virgin.

  How the hell was the queen of porn a virgin?

  Chapter 11

  Mabel

  I lay awake in my own bed that night, thinking about the conversation Kirkland and I’d had at my office. I was so humiliated. I had tried so hard to hide my naivety from my employees, my suppliers, my investors, from everyone related to the business, and yet I fell right into the trap that Kirkland set for me. When did he figure it out? Had Ricki said something?

  Ricki was the only one who knew. And, as much as I wanted to blame it on her, I knew she would never betray me.

  What was I going to do?

  What if he told someone? Who would want to do business with the virgin who pretended to know what she was doing? I was good at selling my website, but if everyone found out the truth…what a joke I’d become!

  I climbed out of bed a little after two, unable to make my head shut off long enough for me to get any rest. I couldn’t hear anything out in the living room. I wondered if Kirkland was asleep, or if he was struggling just as much as I was. But, then again, what would he have to struggle over?

  Kirkland was everything I wasn’t. He was handsome. He had an amazing sense of style. He was confident and strong and charming. And he could have any woman he wanted. And I was dumpy and unattractive, a sheltered child who grew up to become something of a character. My sense of style was odd, something that people either instantly hated or loved. I’d never caught the eye of a guy I was just as interested in. There had been boys in high school who asked me out, but I was always grateful for my father’s rule that there was no dating in high school so that I could turn them down without feeling guilty. When I went to college, I was so excited to finally be like the other girls, to date good-looking, young men who’d never stepped foot inside a church and didn’t know the first thing about the Book of Mormon. But those guys weren’t interested in a girl like me. Once again, I was pursued by the outcasts, the boys who sensed in me the same sort of oddity that they recognized in themselves.

  I was doomed to always be alone. The perpetual wallflower. Always a bridesmaid…

  I curled into the window seat that overlooked the parking lot down below, my arms wrapped around my knees. When I closed my eyes, an image of Kirkland filled my mind. His fingers, long and delicate, his dark skin such a beautiful contrast to his light-colored eyes. His dark hair, so curly and thick, cut short but with the potential of being unruly, wild, like him.

  I could almost imagine what it would feel like to have those fingers touch my body. I’d never been touched in that way, but I could imagine what it would be like. Soft. Gentle. Erotic. I’d never really missed what I didn’t have until I laid eyes on him. When I looked up at him from behind Carrie’s desk that day, my heart swelled to a million times its normal size, threatening to explode and end everything. And I would have died a happy woman if I’d died in that second. Because that was the first—and only—time I’d ever felt as though I might actually have found the one person I was meant to be with in this world.

  And then that weariness that normally resides in most men’s eyes when they look at me came into his, and it was all shattered. Gone.

  A man like Kirkland would never look at me as more than an eccentric woman, who was more of a joke than artistic.

  I was beginning to think I’d never find my one. Watching Ricki plan her wedding, the excitement that changed her morose personality into something more like all the other girls I’d known, was almost painful.

  At times like this, I wished I learned to like alcohol. A good, stiff drink at this moment would probably go down well.

  I stared out the window, watching the comings and goings of stra
ngers on the busy road beyond my apartment building. My mind wandered. Ricki’s wedding was this coming Saturday. She had events all week long: a luncheon on Wednesday, a sleepover with her bridesmaids on Thursday, a bachelorette party on Friday. I wondered if Kirkland would stay with me all week, or if he’d give up after the sleepover. Too much estrogen. I smiled at the thought of him watching us do each other’s hair and cry at sad movies.

  Someone was walking among the cars in the narrow parking lot below me. He was wearing a hoody and he was hunched low, as if he was trying to avoid the security cameras that hung from each corner of the building. He moved slowly, finally taking up a position directly across from my window. It was odd, the way he just stared up at me.

  Could he see me?

  It was more creepy than frightening. Just the way he stared, like he knew I was there and he was trying to freak me out. But he couldn’t possibly see me. The lights were out in my room, and there were thin curtains between the window and me. I could see him, but I doubted he could see me.

  Could he?

  Almost as if in answer to my question, he lifted his hand in a friendly little wave.

  I jumped off the window seat and went for the door, stepping into the living room before I could think things through.

  “Mabel?”

  Without saying a word, I went to the couch, sitting beside Kirkland’s partially reclined body. He sat up and hesitated, his hands close to my arms, but not touching them. It was as if he was fighting some instinct, but I wasn’t sure which side was winning. And then he gripped my upper arms and pulled me back against his bare chest.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “There’s this guy, down in the parking lot. He was staring at me.”

  He climbed around me, grabbing something off the floor and disappearing into the bedroom. I sat back, pulling his pillow into my arms. It was still warm from his body, the scent of his shampoo mingled with his cologne still clinging to the thin fabric of the pillowcase. I buried my face in it, breathing deeply.