Sugarbaby

by Crystal Green

  As I mulled that over, he slid me a glance. I smiled just as he did, and we both laughed.

  “Truly, I don’t even listen to country,” I said. “I know who all the singers are because, how could I not, but still.”

  “Then I guess I misfired with the choice of music tonight.”

  “No, I loved it. Maybe I need to start tuning into that station you were listening to on the sly in Aidan Falls. Wouldn’t it be funny if you got me to be more country, even though I’ve lived there my entire life?”

  “What’s the use in making you more country when you just want to leave town someday?”

  I could’ve mentioned him leaving, too, but why start that up when the evening had been so wonderful?

  As we strolled through the marbled lobby, people looked at the tall cowboy with his hat worn low and his badass coat, but not in the way they would’ve if they’d only known who was underneath the disguise. They looked at me, too, and I told myself it was the beautiful dress swirling out from beneath my own coat and that was all.

  “If it were daytime,” he said as the doorman opened the door for us and bowed, “I’d take you to Central Park. It’s only a couple blocks away, but it’s no place to walk at night.”

  I pulled my coat tighter around me against the chilled air. This was the guy who’d almost started a brawl at the Hellfire Club, the guy who’d taken that tree dive. Maybe he didn’t get a thrill from that stuff when it came to putting me in reckless situations, though. “Glad to know you take my safety seriously.”

  He eased his arm around me as we turned onto the sidewalk. So strong, so manly. I kept thinking about what those arms had looked like without anything on them, glistening with sweat, bulging with muscle.

  “What if I reserved a carriage tomorrow?” he asked. “That’s safe enough. It depends on what’s going on, of course, but it’s an idea.”

  “I’d love that.” And I prayed he’d be in the mood for a romantic ride after he met with his brother. What if things fell apart with his business plan, though? Would there be dinners and lighthearted chatter then?

  The night was alive with battling beeps from the taxis, the hum of motors, the squeal of brakes. Taillights painted the night, competing with neon from restaurants and the silent vigil of yellow light from windows in the high rises. We passed a couple of sophisticated men who looked as if they’d been drinking weekend cocktails at a dark wooded bar, and one of them stared at me. I rolled my eyes as they walked by.

  “I saw that,” Noah said.

  “What?”

  “You, acting as if you’re not enough to have that guy’s tongue hanging out. You did the same surely-it-can’t-be-me-they’re-gaping-at thing back in the lobby.”

  “It’s the dress.” He was right, though—I wasn’t comfortable being looked at by anyone but Noah. I wasn’t sure why. Was it because Aidan Falls pretended I didn’t exist and I wasn’t used to being noticed in a good way?

  “Bullshit,” he said, looking at me from beneath that hat. “It’s definitely not the dress.”

  Then he let go of me, walking behind me. I stopped, but he shook his head.

  “Keep walking ahead of me, Jade. I want to watch the men watch you.”

  A thrill sawed at my belly. He sounded so commanding, and the request was . . . well, not his usual type of surprise. But as I started walking again, I felt desirable. And with him right behind me, I felt as if I was worth being watched for probably the first time in my life while men strolled by with women or by themselves. I could feel the weight of their gazes.

  Of Noah’s gaze.

  Heady, a decadent rush of confidence . . . I couldn’t imagine why I’d never found this in me before. And when another guy with a friendly smile passed me and turned around with a low whistle, Noah’s reaction heated me up even more.

  “Keep moving,” he said in a low voice.

  The guy would’ve been a fool to challenge that tone, and I peeked behind me to see him indeed moving on with one last lingering look, then a shrug at me.

  Noah didn’t seem so amused now. Did he enjoy getting jealous or something?

  We passed a couple more men, a couple more appreciative looks, and just as I was approaching the street corner, I felt Noah come up behind me, turning me around as he took me into his arms. Then he was feverishly kissing me, robbing me of thought and breath, bending me slightly back with the force of his passion.

  How long had I known him? A few days? And already I despaired of never having him kiss me again—of never being kissed like this by anyone.

  The sound of someone catcalling slipped into my consciousness, and I pulled back from Noah, still holding onto his arms. His hat was still low, shutting me out.

  Wallowing in desire and maybe something even gentler than that, I pushed his brim up. My lips were throbbing, sensitive and erotically bruised.

  People walked around us, and a woman muttered, “Get a room.”

  That put a hammer to the moment, and we laughed. He pulled me to the side of the walk, toward the darkened windows of a restaurant with elegant lettering above the door saying Amati’s. The aroma of tomato sauce and garlic richness floated out.

  “Even the crowd is telling us to go back to the penthouse,” he murmured, rubbing his thumb under my bottom lip.

  Two horns came from the street next to us, the sound of tires over pavement, life going on, even if mine seemed centered around this man.

  “Do you regret yesterday?” he asked.

  “No. I was with you all the way. It’s just that I’m usually more reserved. I guess that’s the word. Except when it came to Micah Wyatt.”

  “And he was a mistake.”

  “But you aren’t.” I grasped the sleeve of his coat. “That’s not what I mean to say.”

  “What do you mean?” It was nearly a whisper, rough and needful.

  I didn’t stop to think of how he wanted to hear all my explanations while I was only getting a few of his. “You tempt me, Noah. You were the temptation Evie’s Tarot cards were talking about, and I can’t resist, even if I should be resisting.” I sighed. “Does any of this make sense?”

  He nodded, but from the way he brushed his knuckles under my jaw, I knew he was thinking about easing off my coat, slipping down the straps of my pretty dress, removing my princess shoes one at a time until I was as bared to him as I’d been yesterday.

  And, oh Lord, I wanted that, too.

  The traffic kept going by, lights reflecting off the windows behind him. I couldn’t bear leaving things this way, so I reached up, cupping his face in my hands.

  “I really am going to miss you,” I said.

  He took one of my hands in his, enclosing me, his skin so warm, slightly calloused. “Let’s not talk about that, okay? Let’s leave it as it is for now.”

  So we walked back to the hotel, and I knew this would be the end of the night for us. I’d meant it when I said I was going to miss him, because I hadn’t just been talking about what would happen after he got tired of playing with me. I was talking about missing the Noah who charmed me silly—I was afraid he’d be gone once business started tonight.

  After we rode the elevator back up, we went to the suite, which had already been cleared of any trace of our dinner. All that remained was the smell of sinful sauces and burning candles, plus the ghost of Brad Paisley on the violin.

  Noah took off his hat, tossing it toward a velvet-lined sofa as he headed for his room, obviously ready for business now. Then pivoting suddenly, he stalked back to me, cradling my face, bringing me in for another kiss as I swooned and he caught me.

  This one was sweet, nearly desperate, as if he was afraid we’d never be able to touch each other like this after this moment. As if tonight could be encased in glass and looked at, never to be taken out again.

  Right now, with his lips on mine, warm, sending tin
gles through me, I thought that what we had couldn’t possibly be put away and forgotten. But, as he pulled away, those tingles died a little inside me.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, looking down at me, still holding me, “in the morning, I want you to meet someone. Be ready at ten?”

  He had another surprise in store, no doubt. I was sure this one would be designed to keep me occupied as he went about his business. “Anything you want, Noah.”

  “You know what I want.”

  He meant going into his room with him, but he had a meeting. There was no time to face temptation.

  After another lingering kiss, he stepped back, putting a hand over his heart, just as I’d put my hand there yesterday in his gym. Then he went to his room and closed the door, changing into the avenging tycoon.

  15

  I’d been assigned my very own driver, and he picked me up in a town car at ten o’clock on the dot the next morning with a tip of his cap and a few polite words about his employer instructing him to keep me in the dark about where I was off to.

  Oh, really? Astounding!

  It was a quiet trip since I didn’t want the radio on and “Theo” was the type of driver who didn’t engage me in conversation. I thought good drivers might be like that, gauging the moods of their clients, and my mood was contemplative. I was pretty sure I’d been asleep when Noah had returned to the suite last night and when he’d left this morning—or maybe he’d never even come back. Did that mean his surprise meeting with his brother Thomas had been successful? Or did it mean the opposite?

  Either way, an unwelcome, unwarranted resentment was eating at me as Theo drove through the city streets, passing double-parked cars and rows of townhomes. I guessed I was too inconsequential to even get a text from Noah about how he was doing. Didn’t he know that I was nervous for him, my heart swelling as if it was holding its breath? Then again, who the heck was I to expect Noah to check in with me? What promises had he made that he wasn’t keeping?

  None. And I damned well knew it.

  I leaned my cheek against the headrest, looking out the tinted window, wondering what Uncle Joseph would make of me now if he could see me, a once sweet girl who was wearing the cashmere sweater and expensive wool skirt her temporary boyfriend—if you could even call him that—had given to her. A payment of sorts.

  There was no way around it—I was being compensated for making a billionaire happy, and with every day, that was becoming clearer and clearer.

  Knowing Uncle Joseph, though, he might’ve winked at me and told me to live and let live. And if Evie and Shelby could see me, they’d tell me to go for it. Same with Carley. And Diana? For certain. True, Aidan Falls at large would boo me off their playing field, but that actually gave me a small smile. Anything I could do to rankle the people who’d turned their backs on me definitely gave me satisfaction.

  Theo took me out of Manhattan and, the farther we got, the smaller the city became behind us, toy buildings gathered on an island. After a while, concrete gave way to grass, sweeping trees, and small mansions that would’ve put the pipsqueaks on The Hill in Aidan Falls to shame. And when we arrived at one with gates in front of a rolling carpet of greenery, Theo stopped at the guardhouse to give them my name.

  I’d expected to be driven to a museum today, or maybe to the fashion district for some shopping, but this?

  It looked like I was on a list, and they let us right through. The scent of fresh, cool air competed with the new-car smell as Theo rolled the window back up. It was a beautiful fall day outside, the sky blue, the clouds fluffy.

  We pulled into the circular driveway of a stone mansion, gothic but serene, and he escorted me out of the car.

  He tipped his hat again. “I’ll be here when you need me, miss.”

  “Thank you, but could you at least tell me whose house this is?”

  Theo didn’t do that, because he was already nodding at someone behind me. I turned to find Simmons walking toward us from around the corner of the building, his hands stuck in his sports jacket pockets.

  Again, he didn’t look all that happy to see me.

  “Always a pleasure, Simmons,” I said as, behind me, a car door shut. Theo, leaving me to this latest surprise.

  Simmons jerked his chin toward the corner of the mansion, indicating I should follow him on the stone-tiled pathway. He uttered something I barely caught. “I’m always here to serve.”

  What was that about?

  As we strolled past manicured flowers and iron benches, I said, “How did Noah’s meeting go last night?”

  “Very well. I’m sure he’ll mention that to you.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure he will.”

  When Simmons held back a smile, I knew he had some compassion for me. Maybe a smidge. But I was smiling now, because it sounded like phase one of Noah’s plan had gone his way last night.

  Feeling much lighter, I asked, “Whose place is this?”

  “It’s no one’s place. Not really.”

  Yeesh.

  We’d rounded the corner, where a full view of the backyard greeted me. Burnt-colored trees surrounded an expanse of grass dotted with bright lawn furniture, and I was surprised to see a croquet game was in progress. Meanwhile, men wearing all white hovered on the fringes, as if keeping an eye on the guests.

  I got the feeling these weren’t guests at all, though, and when I saw Noah sitting on the edge of a lawn chair, leaning his arms on his thighs as he faced a woman whose only feature I could see was a wide straw hat, I got a really strange feeling.

  This wasn’t anyone’s place, as Simmons had said. It was a home, all right—somewhere people went to rest.

  “Who’s with Noah?” I asked Simmons.

  “His mother.”

  My jaw nearly hit the ground. Noah had brought me to meet Mom?

  All my systems seemed to stop functioning except my noteworthy ability to ask questions. “What’s going on, Simmons?”

  In the world’s most unexpected maneuver, he rested a hand on my shoulder, coming off like the brother I’d never had. “He wants to see her happy, too.”

  “You say that as if it explains everything, but it doesn’t.”

  Simmons dropped his hand from me. “Noah should’ve explained already.”

  “Yeah, he should’ve. Am I supposed to be pretending I’m his girlfriend today? Have I been put on some kind of payroll for that?” Because I was getting the feeling that was the bottom line—all the gifts I’d been receiving were a salary of sorts. I just didn’t have an official title, much like Simmons.

  “No,” he said, “you’re not supposed to be his girlfriend. But Catherine wanted to know who he’s spending time with. She likes to meet his friends.” Simmons looked discomfited again. “Just relax around her. Don’t be something you’re not.”

  I still didn’t know who I was supposed to be, or what I was to Noah. Then a weird idea occurred to me: was he seeing if I passed muster with Mom while he had me here?

  Oh, right. That had to be it.

  In any case, Simmons hadn’t corrected my assumptions about being on a payroll, and I tried not to seem troubled as we walked the rest of the way to Noah and his mother.

  Noah had spotted us, and he slowly stood, dressed in a gray business suit that made him look as if he were in a high-end fashion shoot. But there was nothing posed about the way he watched me as we approached. He was all appetite, all hunger for me.

  Heat covered me from head to toe, and I felt as if I was something he was aiming to acquire, something he wanted desperately.

  “Here she is,” he said to the woman who was still sitting in her chair. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Jadyn.”

  Catherine Reeves turned to me, and my first impression was that she was a china doll come to life. She had green eyes like her son’s and skin so white it seemed to be porcelain that might shatter if s
he wasn’t handled with care. Her hair was in a blond bob, curling delicately near her jaw. She seemed young, but her gaze wasn’t young at all.

  “Hello, Jadyn,” she said in a wispy voice.

  I extended my hand, feeling as if I were greeting the Queen in a way. “Hello. It’s good to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  She gestured toward Noah’s lawn chair, and I went over to stand by his side. Meanwhile, Simmons stayed on the periphery, just like the men in white around the lawn. A mild cheer went up from the croquet game, birds singing from the nearby trees.

  I remembered Simmons’s words. I was here to make Mrs. Reeves happy, so I sat next to Noah, my thigh against his, trying to focus on her instead of him. But how could I when his clean scent was winding its way through me? How could I when I kept thinking about his lips on mine last night?

  “Well,” said his mom, her hands neatly folded in her lap, the hat shading her. “Noah tells me you’re from Texas. I hear your accent.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  She ran a gaze over me once again, and I wondered if she was going to ask about my pedigree, where I’d gotten my creamy dark skin and curly black hair. But Noah spoke instead.

  “Jadyn’s going to be a geriatric doctor once she graduates.”

  “Are you?” Catherine placed a hand over her heart. “Where are you interning right now?”

  “Nowhere, but I’m working on securing a position.”

  She looked to Noah. “Dr. Egoyan at NYC Grace could put in a word for her. Heaven knows we’ve donated enough to his hospital.”

  It floored me that, with one word, she could get something done that seemed so impossible for me or my counselors. Being rich—what a drag.

  “I’m making my way through school in Texas,” I said. “So I was aiming for something local.” Not to be an ingrate.

  “Which university?” she asked.

  “I’m going the community college route right now, getting my lower-level classes done while working and building up my savings. Luckily I had AP credits from high school to give me a head start.”