Enticement (Master Class Book 2)

by Sierra Cartwright

  She missed a step as she moved away, and Gerard cupped her elbow.

  Pierce met Morgan’s gaze. She shrugged, silently saying, yes, mimosas had been served at the nail salon.

  Morgan closed the door behind them.

  “Where are my babies?” Laurel demanded, facing her husband. “Didn’t you pick them up?”

  “Babies?”

  “The dogs,” Morgan supplied.

  “Dogs?” Since when did his mom have more than one?

  “Gerard,” she wailed.

  “Sorry, darling.” He took her hand. “I was called into the office.”

  “Which means you passed the groomer’s shop on your way home and left them there!” She snatched her hand back. “My God, Gerry. You’re a beast.” She checked her watch and shrieked. “You could have said something. Anything. They close in half an hour. We can’t leave them there. Damn you. I want a divorce.”

  Some things never changed. His mother wanted a divorce at least once a week. Pierce believed she meant it, too. But she liked her life, her house, her status too much to change it. He couldn’t recall his parents ever being anything other than tolerant of one another.

  Was it any wonder he’d avoided relationships?

  And his sister, too.

  “Cancel the party, Morgan,” Laurel said. “This time, I mean it. I’m through. I have had enough of your lack of respect, Gerry. You made a promise and didn’t keep it. Again.”

  “We have plenty of time,” Morgan soothed. “I’ll go and get the dogs while you relax.”

  “Relax?” She pressed a ring-laden hand to her forehead. “While I’m worried about my babies and company is coming? And there are a million things to do? Gerard Holden, you promised.”

  “I’ll go with you, Morgan.” Pierce fished his keys from his pocket.

  After quick goodbyes, he and Morgan escaped.

  “We should take the SUV,” she said when he headed for his vehicle. “It’s set up for the dogs.”

  He followed her to the garage and selected the keys from a hook. And then he saw what she meant.

  The back two rows were folded down and the floor was covered with a mattress, along with numerous blankets and toys. “How many dogs are we talking about? She has one, right? Fifi.”

  “You should be grateful you’re out of touch. She’s got four of them.”

  “Four? Who the hell needs four dogs?” He scrubbed a hand across the top of his head. “How do you manage four dogs? Isn’t that like a ton of poop? And food?”

  They slid into the SUV and Morgan fastened her seatbelt without interrupting his rant. When he fell silent, she responded. “Mom’s been getting a new one every year. It’s her birthday present to herself. To be honest, I think she does it to annoy Dad.”

  “That’s hard to imagine.” He slid her a glance then reversed the SUV out of the garage. He maneuvered around his mother’s sedan, Morgan’s sports car and his own rental before turning onto the quiet two-lane road.

  She gave him a general idea of where to find the groomer’s shop in the historic Parker area.

  “Since I’ve been out of touch, update me on you.”

  “Not much to say.” She shrugged.

  “Work?”

  “It’s good.”

  Could she be any more noncommittal? It occurred to him that he had lost touch, not just with his parents, but with his little sis. And at one time, he’d known everything about her, bailing her and Ella out of trouble, holding her while she sobbed over another breakup, helping her come up with an explanation for an F in algebra. “Love life?”

  “Nonexistent.”

  “By choice?”

  Morgan answered in a monotone voice, “No.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I keep busy with friends. And I’m going to a speed-dating event soon.”

  “Speed dating?”

  “You know, you go into a room, sit down at a table with a man for a few minutes, see if anything clicks. If it does, you exchange information. If not, you move to the next table after a buzzer signals that time’s up.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  “He said with sarcasm.”

  “I guess it’s better than online?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  They arrived at the groomer’s less than five minutes before closing time. A woman with dog on a leash nodded at him. He bent to pet it, and the vicious fur ball bit him.

  “Lucy is scared of strangers.” The woman with hair sprayed so stiff it could have served as a battering ram in a no-knock raid, offered no apology. Instead she scooped up the still-snarling animal and walked out of the door.

  “Are you okay? I am so sorry.” The blushing receptionist grabbed an antiseptic wipe and offered it to him.

  “It’s superficial. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You said that when you were stabbed,” Morgan said.

  The receptionist’s mouth dropped open. “You were stabbed?”

  Sliced open was more like it. “It wasn’t all that bad.”

  “You were in a hospital for how long?”

  “More of a vacation, really.” He told himself that any time he wasn’t being shot at, life was easy. But it wasn’t true. At times, nightmares gripped him, and he saw the cold darkness in the assailant’s eyes, contrasting with the warm smile. The juxtaposition startled him so much he would awaken with a gasp.

  It had taken a while to recuperate from the collapsed lung. The worst part hadn’t been the injury. The worst part had been the fact the rest of the team was out there, doing the job while he was in a bed.

  Another woman emerged from the back with four standard poodles.

  “Thank you, Lisa,” Morgan said, taking the leashes.

  “All of those are ours?” His mouth dropped open. They were all white. They looked identical.

  “Beautiful job,” Morgan said.

  “Bikini clip, for the summer.”

  “What?” Pierce asked.

  “There are a number of different ways to groom them,” Lisa explained. “Mrs. Holden wanted this so they’ll be cool for the party. They’ll grow out fast, so she can show Farrah in a couple of months. So by fall, for sure.”

  He shook his head. How soon until he could get back to his unit?

  Each poodle had a ribbon on top of its head. And the color matched the collar, which matched a leash. “How the hell do you tell them apart?”

  “Fifi, Bon Bon, Walter and Farrah all have different personalities,” Morgan assured him. “Can you hold them while I pay the bill?”

  He accepted the leashes as if they were a grenade.

  She signed the credit card receipt.

  He grimaced when he realized he’d gotten all the leashes intertwined. War was easier than dealing with this wriggling, squirming, prancing bunch of canines.

  “You hold Walter, and I’ll get the other three.”

  It would help if he knew which one that was. “Blue?” he guessed.

  “Teal.”

  Of course.

  She took the fuchsia leash from his hand, dropped it then worked it free from the tangled mess.

  She continued with the pink and purple leashes until she had control of three dogs.

  Lisa, failing to hide a grin, opened the door for them.

  He used the key fob to open the vehicle then opened the back hatch.

  “Walter goes in first.”

  “Why?”

  “You tell me. It’s an alpha thing. I figured you’d understand.”

  “You’re right. I got it.”

  Walter jumped in and then turned around for Morgan to unclip his leash.

  “Won’t he get out?”

  “They love going for rides in the car, so no.”

  His sister was remarkable, addressing each of the animals in a slightly different tone of voice and using finger commands to indicate what she wanted to happen.

  Walter herded each of the other dogs into place as Morgan loaded them in.

  “They�
��re complicated as hell.”

  “Wait until Mom gets another one for her birthday.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “She has a deposit on a puppy.”

  “Another one?” He shook his head. “I’d think one was too much damn work.”

  “They’re highly intelligent, can work out strategy, but yeah, energetic. They have a woman who comes and gets them every day, sometimes twice if Mom is busy. I think having a bunch of them probably isn’t any more difficult than just having one.”

  Fifi licked his forearm then sat, looking at him with wide, bright, unblinking eyes. Her tail was the only part of her body that moved.

  “It’s love.”

  Unable to help himself, he stroked the animal behind the ear. Absently he wondered how long it had been since he’d taken time to do something like that. He was out of touch with the smaller pleasures in life, and he was no longer certain that was okay. Being sure the animals were inside, safe, Pierce closed the hatch.

  He and Morgan slid into the front seats, then he started the engine and checked the rearview mirror. He saw nothing else other than electric-colored ribbons, wagging snowball tails and an endless sea of white.

  He eased forward, and one of the balls of fluff stumbled sideways. “Sorry.” Was he really apologizing to a dog? Maybe he should have let Morgan drive.

  He turned onto Main Street, and he cringed when something warm and wet slurped up the back of his neck.

  “I told you it was love.”

  He put up a hand for protection. It didn’t work. The dog pressed her wet nose against his ear. “Make her stop.”

  “Aww. She loves you.”

  He slid Morgan a fierce scowl that made grown men take a step back.

  Morgan snickered. “Just drive. They’ll all settle down.”

  He looked at the poodle in the rearview mirror. “No licking the driver.”

  Fifi woofed and wagged her tail.

  “I mean it.”

  She woofed again.

  “Isn’t she supposed to do what I tell her?”

  “Of course.” Morgan nodded. “Just like all females.”

  Maybe he was losing his touch. He still hadn’t received his anticipated ‘Yes, Sir’ from Ella.

  As he accelerated, the animals jostled for position and two of them pressed their noses against the windows. Fifi, however, sat behind him, chin on his shoulder. “I’m glad we brought the SUV. I had no idea. How often do you end up doing this?”

  “At least once a week. I don’t mind, really. The dogs are always a welcome distraction when spending time with Mom and Dad.”

  “What’s the deal with them?”

  “Neither of them are happy.”

  “They never have been, as long as I remember.”

  When they arrived home, his mother was stretched out on the upholstered chaise longue in the great room, a throw draped across her feet and a compress to the back of her neck.

  Gerard was seated in a leather armchair with a notebook computer on his lap. He didn’t glance up.

  “My babies!” Laurel kicked off the throw.

  The four dogs pranced over to her. Walter took the lead, and Fifi was last. She glanced back at Pierce with her wide, soulful eyes.

  “You are all so pretty. All your ribbons are perfect. You’ll be the belles of the ball. Well, except Walter. You’ll be the stud.” The ice pack tumbled to the floor.

  Silence hung suspended.

  “Aren’t they adorable, Gerry?”

  As Pierce could have predicted, Gerard mumbled, “Adorable.”

  “Gerry! Did you even look?”

  He gave a half-wave to match his half-smile.

  “What kind of computer is that?” Pierce asked. The sleek, titanium-looking case appeared to be both purple and blue and somewhat translucent at the same time. It had a distinctive logo on the back, part wave, part lightning bolt, all linked together. “Is that a Bonds?” Pierce walked over for a better view.

  His father slammed the lid closed and placed it on the end table next to the chair. Then he covered it with a magazine about financial success. “Your mother said something about making sure the bar is set up on the patio in the correct place.”

  “I don’t know anything about where it should go.”

  “Neither do I.” Gerard pressed his lips together.

  Laurel framed Walter’s head with her hands and studied him while talking to her husband. “You know what to do. Make sure it’s as close to the house as possible, at an angle so that our guests have plenty of room to walk around.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  “Morgan, be a love and fetch me a mimosa. The other one is wearing out.”

  “Wearing out?”

  “Off. Whatever.” She narrowed her eyes and waved at her daughter. “Less orange juice than the last one.”

  Interesting, no matter how ill she claimed to be, her lipstick was always perfect.

  Pierce followed his father outside.

  The bartender was already there, organizing glasses, arranging bottles of wine and beer on the top in rows, orderly enough for Pierce to appreciate. There were parts of the military that suited his personality. Precision was one of them. “Is there anything ready?”

  “Yes, sir. I can get you a beer.”

  “Isn’t it a little early?” Gerard asked.

  “Is it?” Not when he was expected to endure hours with his parents. If Ella were here, things would be different. Pierce turned to the bartender and gave her a big smile. “What do you have in a can?”

  “I’ve got a pale ale from a brewery in Lyons.”

  “I’ll try it.”

  The woman set it on the bar, popped it open then pulled out a glass.

  “The can is fine.”

  Gerard shuddered. “Put it in a glass.”

  “Can won’t get broken.” He grabbed the beer then wandered over to a nearby tent.

  One person was lining up chafing dishes. Another was placing three big bags of tortilla chips inside an enormous silver bowl. A third person was setting up cold packs.

  He lifted the lid from one of the dishes and found it empty.

  Gerard walked over to join him, a glass of something strong in hand. Whiskey, Pierce guessed.

  “We have some fried chicken inside, if you can’t wait until the food is served.”

  Pierce turned toward his father. “Breakfast was a long time ago.” And he’d had plenty of exercise since then. “But I’m curious about your computer.”

  “Ordinary machine. Came out last year. Outdated now that the new models have been released. You can buy one yourself. There’s a store in Cherry Creek. Since you won’t have time before you leave again, you can order one online.”

  “Good to know.” He leveled a stare at his father. For the first time, Pierce noticed the grooves etched next to Gerard’s eyes, the ridges trenched into his forehead. “Anything you need to talk about?”

  For a moment, Gerard said nothing. But he didn’t snap an answer like Pierce expected.

  Indecision warred in Gerard’s eyes.

  Perhaps for the first time ever, Pierce noticed that his father’s eyes were the same shade of blue as his own. It startled him. And he wondered, with a frisson of discomfort, if they were alike in other ways as well.

  Gerard opened his mouth then closed it before shaking his head. “No.”

  “Okay. You have my number if you change your mind.” Pierce suspected both of them would be shocked if Gerard used it. “About that fried chicken?”

  They walked inside. Morgan was just closing the fridge.

  “Your brother’s hungry.” Gerard continued to the great room.

  Surprise. “I can manage.” Pierce opened the refrigerator door. “I don’t expect you to wait on me.”

  “As if I would. It’s in the green bowl.” She picked up the champagne flute. “There’s potato salad in there somewhere, too. Oh, Mom wants us to move our cars. The driveway is reserved for guests.”

/>   “I’ll move them. Mom’s, too?”

  “Please. Hers can go in the garage.”

  “Where are your keys?”

  “With all the others.”

  After glancing at the poodle-shaped wooden key hanger next to the back door, he nodded. “Consider it done.”

  “Thanks for being here.”

  “Wouldn’t miss hanging out with my pain-in-the-ass sister.”

  She flipped him the bird behind her back as she exited the room. He grinned. She’d done that often while they were growing up, always out of sight of their parents so she could appear to be the perfect child. They were grateful to have one.

  His phone dinged and he pulled it from his back pocket. Was it finally Ella?

  Yes, Sir.

  Air whooshed out of him. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized how much the little minx had been winning the battle of wills, and how much he despised that fact.

  He waited for a second message. Anything.

  A minute later, he figured one wasn’t coming.

  Maybe he should have told her to call while she was rubbing herself. That would have been better.

  Next time.

  He typed in a response.

  Did you do what you were supposed to?

  I was about to. Sir.

  Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. This morning, issuing commands had seemed like a good idea and easily accomplished. Now, though? He wasn’t as sure. He’d never played with a sub who left him confounded and horny.

  Text me when you’re done, Ella.

  Are we still on stage one?

  What do you think?

  I don’t know. Yes? Since I’ll still be needy if you don’t let me come.

  It’s step two. Saying sexy things, including giving you orders that remind you who your Dom is.

  Increasing the stakes, Staff Sergeant?

  You were warned.

  He prepared a plate of food for himself then took a few drinks of beer while he waited for her to respond.

  Done, Sir.

  His cock hardened.

  You make me so damn proud. How was it?

  I think I will walk funny for a while. How about letting me have an orgasm?