by Mia Watts
Did he risk throwing it away on a naïve belief that the hard-headed business woman hadn’t pissed off a bigwig or two? He’d known Bobby his whole life. He usually had a self-gratifying motive for what he did, but he wasn’t mean-spirited without believing he did the right thing or his actions had a greater purpose. Could he say the same about Flora?
She’d fucked him and run. What did he know about her beyond their very believable chemistry?
“You listening to me, Ian? I’m all the family you got. You owe me at least a listen.”
“I hear you,” Ian answered. Bobby had to be wrong. Flora couldn’t be that much of a self-serving bitch. Ian would have known it. He wouldn’t have fallen for her disarming vulnerability. She kept it well hidden, but he’d seen it from their first meeting. Flora Harper played the big bad executrix, but underneath the tailored skirts and expensive spa-gleaming skin, she wasn’t as secure as she let others believe.
“So you’ll at least check into it before you fuck up your career and mine?” Bobby pressed.
“Yeah,” he answered on a sigh. “I’ll look into it.” A thought pushed to the forefront of his mind. “Bobby, you know anyone named Sage?”
“Nah. Sounds like one of them rich Harvard types. We good? You and me? We squared now?”
“We’re squared. Uncle Bobby?”
“Yeah, kid.”
“You never refer to Flora as a great fuck.”
“Yeah, kid. I got it. She’s off-limits until you get the story.”
“Naw, she’s just off-limits,” Ian said. He ended the call and shoved the phone into his front pocket. Even if it were true about her, what they’d shared deserved a better name than a fuck. It would always mean more to him than that, no matter what it meant to her. Fucking had nothing to do with what she’d given him.
Chapter Ten
“You can’t hide out here all night. She’s bound to notice,” Willow Harper said, handing an empty lemonade glass to Flora.
“She pities me. Our mother pities me. How sad is that?” she said in her own defense.
“You do look like you’ve been handed your ass.”
Flora threw the sponge into the sink. “That’s because I was. Geez! I know better than to get involved with a player. These guys change girls like they change jockstraps.”
“Now, now, big sis. You and I know a lot of players who never change their jockstraps—bad mojo for the big game.” Willow wiggled her brows. “Still, you might want to poke your head in there before she comes looking for you. They’re giving away a strap-on,” she sang as she left the kitchen.
Flora snorted. Okay, so maybe the jockstrap analogy was a bad one, but she did feel used and sweaty. Images of Ian’s glistening chest as he moved over her flashed into her mind and sent a shiver from nipples to clit.
“Oh, God, that man could make me come,” she whispered.
“In the realm of too much information, that was a doozy.”
Flora spun. “Sage! I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Mom.” He smiled wryly.
Nothing further needed to be said. She understood completely and nodded to let him know she did.
“Still can’t shake the guy?” Sage asked.
“What’s wrong with me? He’s absolutely the wrong man to get involved with. He’s a football player. He’s tight with Sterling. Correction, he’s family to Sterling. He used me and is trying to destroy my career. He should be the scum I scrub off the bottom of my galoshes, not some on-going fantasy.”
“You’re right. He’s an ass,” Sage agreed firmly.
“Then he turns around and defends Taylor, this kid from the campaign who hates him. He won’t even let me stay mad at him!”
“You’re right. He’s perfect,” Sage agreed, just as firmly.
“I have to see him every day. Do you know what that’s like?”
“I have an idea of the blessed misery,” Sage murmured. “I couldn’t stand to be in the same room and not touch Joe, but I was confined to the same building and didn’t want him out of my sight. Meanwhile, he’s giving me conflicting signals. I couldn’t have walked anyway. Not if there was a chance he might feel the same way about me.”
She smiled, hugged him. “We all know how that ended.”
“How what ended?” Joe asked, coming into the room.
“You and Sage,” Flora said, smiling.
“We’d better not be ended.” Joe came up behind Sage and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressed his lips to Sage’s shoulder. “Hey hon, your mom won’t be distracted for much longer. She actually handed me a vibrating butt plug and asked me to demonstrate how it’s used.”
“Like hell,” Sage growled. He twisted, captured Joe in a firm hold and kissed him. “I’m the only one who sees that.” He glanced back at her. “You going to be all right?”
“I’m fine. I’ll buy one of Kimberley’s gadgets and Ian Tate will be a thing of the past.” She said it, but she wasn’t convinced. Clearly, Sage wasn’t either. “Go back to the party. Stall for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Don’t be too much longer. The strap-on went to Marge from down the street. I think Kimberley is giving away some pheromone scents next,” Joe said. “Maybe it’ll work on a certain football player.”
“I don’t want him,” she told herself after they’d left. But she did. She really did. Only she also really didn’t. The bastard. The sexy, insufferable, sweet, backstabbing jerk. Even her adjectives were confused.
She put down the dish cloth and decided to work her way back into the party. Mom would never forgive her for missing it. Flora sneaked into the room and sat on the back of a nearby chair.
Kimberley handed Jennifer a small white, unmarked tube. “Put a small dot of this on your finger and don’t do anything until I tell you.” The tube made its way around the room. Like the others, Flora put a dot of clear gel-like fluid on her fingertip.
“Everyone have some?” Kimberley asked. With the murmur of agreement, the hostess continued. “Now put it on your lips like gloss.”
Flora applied the goo and her lips went numb.
Jennifer whooped. “Anal Ease! It’s Anal Ease! I use this stuff all the time!” She giggled and blushed.
They all laughed together and Flora watched as Sage and Joe got into the teasing. Sage made a show of measuring the bright pink dildo and giving an impressed nod before passing it along. Her mom seemed to settle in, too, now that Flora had rejoined the gathering.
Kimberley had just bestowed a hostess gift to her mom when Willow nudged her elbow. “I think he’s here for you. If you want, I’ll take the tall guy with him to give you two some time alone.”
Flora followed her gaze. Bing and Ian stood in the arch to the living room, shifting from foot to foot as the women slowly became aware of them.
“You scheduled entertainment?” one woman asked hopefully.
Ian reached her side. “We need to talk.”
“Go on, honey. If you win the clitoral clamp, I’ll come get you,” her mom offered.
“Clitoral—never mind.” Ian’s fingers curled around her upper arm. “Let’s go, sweetheart. You got some ’splainin’ to do.”
She followed him. Bing and Willow did, too.
“Flora? Should I get Sage?” Willow asked.
“He’s here? You brought him here? What the fuck, Flora?” Ian sputtered.
“I didn’t have to bring him. He’s welcome here any time,” she shot back.
“Whoa. This just got weird. Okay. I’m leaving you two to creep out the neighbors while Bing and I introduce ourselves over lemonade. I’ll send Sage and you can explain this to him.” Willow ushered Bing back the way they’d come.
“I’m tellin’ you. She’s not like that, man.”
“Thanks, Bing. I got it from here.” Ian didn’t bother to break eye contact with Flora long enough to look up at the other man. He waited. She heard the front door close, heard it reopen and latch again.
Ian’s nostrils flare
d. Annoyance tightened his mouth as he flicked a glance over her shoulder.
“Say the word, baby, and I’ll call the cops,” Sage said.
His calm voice and still presence helped her center her thoughts. “He won’t hurt me. Can you stay? Maybe you’ll see what I don’t,” she hinted.
Ian’s hands left his hips. He folded his thick arms across his chest. Unconsciously, he shifted his weight and widened his stance. His chin came up defensively even as his lips settled into a thin line. “So, you’re Sage.”
———
I can take him, Ian thought. He saw the flicker of amusement settle in the other man’s eyes and a knowing smile cross his ridiculously handsome face. Flora wouldn’t date a football player, but apparently she had no qualms dating a pretty boy model. Vapid and easy on the eyes? It didn’t ring true, yet the proof was wearing faded blue jeans and a polo shirt not four feet from where they stood.
“Yeah, I’m Sage.”
Ian couldn’t imagine this guy with Flora. As soon as he realized it, he dismissed Sage as a threat and categorized him as an annoyance instead. Ian looked back at her. Her stance mirrored his. The corners of her mouth pulled down slightly and all he could think about was kissing them in the hopes that he could make her smile again.
“Who is this guy?” Ian asked, his voice sounding quiet in the evening air.
“I told you who he is.”
Ian found himself studying the sidewalk. “Flora, where did you go yesterday?” He looked up, hoping to read something in her expression. Her gaze darted away.
“The shoot ended. I went home.”
Were they going to talk about the disappearing act? Had Sage ever seen her do that before? The other man stared at Ian intently, curiously.
“Can we talk privately?”
“Anything you have to say to me, Sage can hear, too,” she insisted.
“Fine. How did you get home?” Ian asked, pointedly.
He thought her cheeks may have darkened. The streetlight didn’t give enough illumination to be sure.
“I, uh, took the express lane.”
Sage inhaled sharply. Flora winced. Her shoulders tightened.
“From the hallway where I blocked your exit,” he said dryly.
“Is that why you came here? I pulled a disappearing act so you had to find out how? Go home, Ian. I’m tired. My mom’s throwing a party. You’re wasting my time. Pick a reason.”
She turned to leave and Ian reached for her wrist, pulling her back around to face him. “Damn it, Flora, I found proof. I fucking found the article about Wilks and the girl.” She might as well have torn his heart from his chest. The guilt was written all over her face.
“Goddamn it. It’s true. You’re blackmailing Wilks and Deeks.”
“Sounds like you’ve already decided that I am.”
“Do you make anything easy?” he asked, frustration tightening his throat.
“Well, apparently, I’m easy. I fuck men indiscriminately, cackle into the mist, and made my way to the top of my profession by lying on my back. That is how you see me, isn’t it?”
“That’s not what I believe.”
Her eyes narrowed and she bent toward him from the waist. “You were instructed to film me in a compromising position and give the evidence to Sterling. I can understand Wilks’ motivation. It’s your motivation which escapes me.”
“Tell me it isn’t true that you used Wilks indiscretion to further your career. Tell me you didn’t wreck his future by threatening to lead the media to him,” Ian said, hoping she’d come up with a believable argument in her defense.
Sage cleared his throat.
“Stay out of it, Sage,” Flora snapped. “He’ll believe what he wants to believe. I’m the one he tried to compromise. I owe him nothing.”
“He’ll believe it because you aren’t contesting it,” Sage argued.
“Stay out of it, Sage,” Ian repeated, not taking his eyes from her.
From his vantage point, he saw the slash of light as the front door opened and closed behind another man. This man was slightly taller than Sage, built like a bear. He had the same dark hair and chiseled features, but unlike Sage, this guy wasn’t beautiful.
Ian looked from one man to the other. They had to be brothers. The newcomer, though attractively compelling, couldn’t be called handsome. His face cut too many angles, held too many shadows. As he watched the man approach, there was an instant where he could have sworn the man jumped several feet forward. It was like watching an old film with missing frames. One minute he descended the steps, the next he had crossed several paved squares toward them.
“What the hell?” Ian murmured. “Gotta fucking get my eyes checked.”
“Flora,” Sage said, quietly coming to her side and touching her shoulder. “You need to tell him.”
She turned, studied him for a few minutes with questioning eyes.
“I know about you, already,” Ian said to Sage. “I get it. You two are together. Can you step off now and let me finish this adult conversation with Flora? Hmm?”
Sage sent him a warning look. The other guy loomed closer, too.
“Can I hit him?” The stranger asked.
“No, but I might,” Sage bit out.
His hand curled possessively on Flora’s shoulder and Ian lost it. Cocking his arm back, Ian shifted his weight and hooked his fist sharply under Sage’s chin. It was over almost as fast as it started. Sage and the other guy pinned him to his back on the grass.
Flora crouched at his head. “Sage is my brother. So is Dill.”
He blinked dazedly, looking from one man to the other. Laughter spilled in rolling swells from his chest.
“He’s crazy,” Dill muttered.
“He’s in love with her,” Sage explained.
“He tried to have me fired and publicly humiliated. Check your tuner, Sage.” Incredulous, she stared at Sage and slowly shook her head.
“If he were trying to humiliate you, why is he asking you for the truth? He wants a reason to continue feeling the way he feels about you,” Sage said.
“Because he didn’t get the footage Sterling wanted and he thinks I’m stupid enough to fall for him again,” she denied.
“You fell for me?” Ian asked, hopefully.
“Who wrote this fucking script?” Dill got up and walked away. “I think you have this thing under control. I gotta go check on Willow. Last I saw, she was trying to lick Bing’s head.”
“What?” Flora and Ian asked.
“Which head?” Sage wondered aloud, simultaneously.
Dill shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”
Sage still had him pinned. Ian looked up at Flora, not bothering to struggle against him. He could free himself if he wanted to but if he stood, she’d back off. Here on the ground, he let himself be exposed, trapped, and deliciously close to her.
“You fell for me?” he said again, hoping she’d answer.
Sage wiggled his lower jaw, carefully stretching out the sore muscles from Ian’s hit.
Flora looked toward the house.
“He might be an asshole, but he’s an asshole who is actually trying to get to the truth. Cut him a break,” Sage told her. He rose and left.
Ian stayed on his back looking up at her.
“Don’t use puppy eyes on me,” Flora said.
“Are they working?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?” he wheedled.
“No.”
“How about if I…” Ian rolled to his side, wrapped his hand around her ankle and pressed a kiss to her toes.
“Not even then.”
“How about if I…” He turned completely on his belly, caught her other ankle. The movement landed her on her butt and he took advantage of his freer access to kiss the inside of her arch. Her toes curled slightly. Thank God she was wearing sandals.
“Stop it. You can’t seduce your way out of this one.”
“I could try.”
“And it would m
ake you look like an insincere prick.”
“At least come down here and join me. Your family has really soft grass.”
“Don’t be a douche,” she said. Her tone had softened and he took that as a promising sign.
“Mm. Plumbing. My favorite female subject.”
Ian crawled up her body, forcing her to lie back in the grass. Her hands automatically came up to his chest. Looking down at her with her head pillowed in the inky swirls of hair and bathed with distant yard lights, the moment felt surreal. He thought she might allow anything in the semi-darkness. Even forgiveness if he wanted it.
If only his questions had been answered.
“Sage thinks I should tell you what really happened. Sage is always right about what other people are thinking. He’s not always right about it being the best thing for me. He can’t deduce that. He can only see thoughts and motives,” she said.
“Well that’s cryptic.”
“He said you’re in love with me. Is that true?” she asked.
Ian couldn’t imagine a more beautiful woman. He hadn’t met anyone with more determination to succeed. He liked those qualities, but if she had succeeded how Bobby had insisted she had, he should be disgusted by her.
He wasn’t disgusted. He was turned on, intrigued, curious, confused, infatuated, bewildered, and protective of her. Disgusted figured nowhere in his feelings. Did he love her? She made his heart race. She made waking up to see her again worth the sore muscles in practice and the red tape of publicity. She made him think about babies and herb gardens and cats, for fuck’s sake. Love?
“Yeah,” he admitted, hating the way his insides roiled as he waited to see what she thought.
“You barely know me and you think I’m a slutty blackmailer. You aren’t so great at dating, are you?”
“I didn’t say it made sense or that I’m waiting to hear you deny the claims. Are you a blackmailer? It would really mess with my head—fuck up the whole ethics thing.”
“Proving integrity is a slippery slope. Have I done anything that makes you think I’m dishonest?” she asked.
