Revealed: A Hype PR and Eye Candy Bookstore Anthology

by Bethany Lopez

  My office was in the back, a former closet that Ryker had converted for me. It was small, room enough for a desk, a printer and a filing cabinet and I adored it. My name was on the door, Jackson’s doing, and posters of my favorite bands hung on the walls. Ryker’s office was down the hall from mine. Jackson didn’t want an office; his place was behind the bar—serving drinks and training the new employees.

  I’d been the third wheel for so long, the cliché little sister. They never excluded me, though. There was always a spot on the sofa during a movie, pizza in the box at lunch, a place for me on their kickball team. Things looked up when Sabrina entered the picture, Jackson’s girlfriend, but in some ways the addition of her started my crush on Ryker—with Jackson preoccupied, Ryker and I started hanging out more by default. And then we lost Mom and Dad in a car crash two years ago. Ryker had been the one to handle the funeral arrangements, held my hand, offered his shoulder and kept me standing when all I wanted to do was crumble. And by that time my crush had turned into love.

  If I had a dime for every time my eyes sought him out in the crowd, I could retire tomorrow. He was talking with Kel. Unlike Jackson, who was very low-key, Ryker was all business. He’d negotiated the purchase of the club, worked a deal for the down payment on the loan, found the vendors, interviewed the employees. Jackson and Ryker might be co-owners, but Ménage was all Ryker. It was a tough few years, but we were turning a healthy profit now. And there was something very sexy about a man like Ryker, business-savvy, yet looking like he just stepped off the stage of a rock concert with his wardrobe of faded jeans and tees; he had two full sleeves of tats that ran down his arms in a collage of color and images. His buzz-cut hinted at the dark hair he’d have if he allowed it to grow in. Beautiful angles made up his face and he had the most incredible pale green eyes. And his hands, long fingers and wide palms that could mete out pain as easily as they could soothe. I’d spent countless nights entertaining thoughts of those hands on me, his body over mine as he drove into me in hard, deliberate and controlled thrusts that turned wild as we both lost control.

  Ryker’s head turned and with uncanny accuracy, his pale eyes found me. He studied me, gauging whether my expression was casual observation or an issue that he needed to address. Reading me perfectly as he always did, he gave me a slight chin lift before returning his attention to Kel. And every time he did that, looked through me, broke off another little piece of my heart. I loved him; I knew he didn’t feel the same. It was my cross to bear—my painful, little secret.

  A commotion started on the dance floor; I was close, so I headed over to break it up. Fights happened, not often, but hot heads and alcohol didn’t mix. The guy in question was pissed that another man was dancing with his girl. It was a fast song; the dance was with a group and since the drunk had been bellied up at the bar, seemed to me he lost the right to have a problem with it. The scene escalated pretty quickly, the right hook came out of nowhere catching me on the jaw. I was going down, but I never hit the floor because strong hands caught me, pulling me up and holding me close.

  “You okay?”

  Ryker.

  He didn’t wait for an answer, turning me into him. He clearly didn’t like what he saw because his face went hard. “You okay for a minute?”

  “Yeah.”

  Despite myself, my heart fluttered watching as Ryker waded into the fray. He loved me; I knew he did, just not in the way I wanted. He was pissed I’d been hurt, but I fantasized the rage was because his woman was hurt. He yanked the drunk from the other guy and lifted him clear off the floor before tossing him like he weighed nothing. “Get the fuck out.”

  The drunk stumbled to his feet, an argument on his tongue, until he saw the six foot five tower of rage storming toward him and even drunk he knew he was in trouble because he ran right out of the club.

  Ryker returned to me, reaching for my hand as he passed and pulled me to his office. Calling to one of the bartenders to bring ice. We reached his office and he held the door for me, before closing it with a decided click. And then he turned me into him. For just a second I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he shouted at me like I was a child.

  “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “Same as you, to break it up.”

  “You took a fist to the face.”

  “It’s a club, brawls happen. It’s inevitable.”

  “Did you not see me walking over?”

  “I was closer.”

  “Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

  A knock at the door had Ryker barking for Kitty to enter with the ice. She threw sympathetic eyes my way, before handing the bag of ice to him. She left as quickly as she entered. And all the while I just stood there, like a child being disciplined. Ryker was three years older than me, but I was fucking twenty-eight-years old. Too goddamn old for this shit.

  Ryker blocked my exit. Another thing that irritated me, he read me like a book. “You need to ice that jaw.”

  I grabbed the bag from him. “I’ll do it in my office.”

  “Here, so I know you’re doing it.” He turned from me, the implication that he had more important things to do, but was forced to deal with me, stung and pissed me off.

  “Why do you insist on treating me like I’m five?”

  He didn’t even bother with turning around when he said, “Stop acting like you’re five and I will.”

  “Because I was stepping in to break up a fight, I’m behaving like a five-year-old?”

  He looked then, just a glare from over his shoulder. “You’re showing the judgment of a five year old.”

  It hadn’t always been so contentious between us. When we were younger we’d been really close, but that all changed. It was my fault. The infamous New Year’s Eve of 2014. We kissed. It had started out innocently enough, ringing in the New Year, but it turned hot and heated. I had been the aggressor at first, but he had taken over the kiss, plunging his tongue into my mouth, his big hands roaming over my body and under my shirt. And then he pushed me from him, when he realized exactly who he was kissing, and left me standing there, my lips bruised from his kiss, my body still burning from his touch. I still remember his taste, the feel of his hands on me. I had on more than one occasion gotten off on the memory. His rejection was only the tip of the iceberg because that night Jackson and Sabrina had a huge fight. He left the party with my parents and they got in an accident on the way home. Jackson survived but my parents had been killed. I had ended up drinking myself into a stupor and passed out on my friend’s bed and in the morning it was Ryker, the man who had caused the binge, who shared with me that my parents were gone. And ever since, Ryker was more parent than friend. And I understood. Ryker was like family; he was the oldest, so he tried to fill their shoes.

  Lowering my head so he couldn’t see my tears of frustration, I entertained again the idea that maybe I needed to find a new job. I hated thinking it, because I loved my job, but the way things were going with Ryker, it wouldn’t be long before my love turned to hate. I was skating the edge as it was.

  Strong hands grabbed the ice from my hand. “The idea is to ice the area bruising.”

  I shoved him. He hadn’t anticipated that, which was the only reason I got past him. Yanking the door open, I stormed out as I snarled fuck you from over my shoulder. I didn’t get far; he came up behind me and pinned me to the wall.

  “Ice your fucking jaw.” His words sort of trailed off, his focus moving to my eyes that were bright from the tears I was holding back.

  “Back off,” I said at the same time I pushed at his chest. And the pathetic woman that I was, I didn’t want to remove my hands from the strong muscles of his pecs that curved into the six pack of his abs. I’d seen Ryker enough times without a shirt to know just how exquisite his body was.

  “Ice your jaw.”

  I glared at him, but I held the ice to my jaw. My defiance only making me look like the child he believed I was.

  I hadn’t meant to say anything;
it was frankly humiliating that one moment of weakness had forever changed our relationship, but I had to know.

  “Why?”

  His focus never wavered, he also didn’t answer even though I knew he knew what I was asking.

  “I don’t think I imagined your response. You felt something too, so why have you spent the past two years shutting me out?”

  He stepped back, putting distance between us, both literally and figuratively. His jaw clenched and his words were clipped. “Is that how you remember it?”

  Is that how I remembered it? What, like there was another way to interpret the evening? I threw myself at him and he couldn’t have run fast enough to get away from me.

  “How do you remember it?”

  His fisted his hands as he took another few steps away from me. “Doesn’t matter.”

  I thought he had shut me out, but it wasn’t that. He was pissed at me. Why? I wanted to know, but I was too angry to ask. I pushed past him, right to my office, and slammed the door. But I didn’t move, just stood there numb as my brain desperately tried to remember what had happened on that disastrous night that had Ryker still holding a grudge.

  Chapter Two

  Jackson and I were at the bar. Ménage wasn’t open. I was going through invoices, Jackson was eating lunch and Ryker was standing near the stage, leaning against the wall talking to a Barbie wannabe. She was the lead singer to the band performing tonight. They’d just had a sound check and while the other band members took off for an early dinner, the bimbo stayed behind. She claimed she wanted to discuss the sets, but with the way she kept licking her lips, the sets were the furthest thing from her mind.

  I had to give Ryker credit. I knew he dated, well, I didn’t actually know if he dated but a man like him had to, but he didn’t flaunt his babes in my face. I did have to watch the attempts though. Night after night, willing women fortified themselves with alcohol, drinking their liquid courage to approach him.

  “Do you want some of my sandwich?” Jackson asked but he took a bite so big he’d eaten nearly half of the half.

  “No thanks.”

  “How’s your jaw?”

  It bruised, a nice one too. I derived a sick kind of pleasure when Ryker saw it the day after the incident. He had been pissed because he knew I hadn’t iced my jaw like he had demanded I do. It had been a small victory, but still a victory.

  “It’s fine.”

  He rested his elbows on the table and I could feel his stare burning a hole in the side of my face. Glancing up at him, I gave him a look, “What?”

  “What’s going on with you and Ryker?”

  “Nothing.” A big nothing, zero, zilch.

  “The tension between you can be cut with a knife.”

  Jackson wasn’t stupid, he was just very self-absorbed so he didn’t notice things that didn’t directly affect him. For him to notice the tension, yeah it had to be pretty bad.

  “We kissed. I had hoped it would go one way, he felt differently.”

  “When?”

  “The night Mom and Dad died. The night you and Sabrina got into that huge fight. What did happen that night? I don’t remember much. One minute, Ryker and I were getting hot and heavy in a closet and the next I woke up from a hell of a bender. What happened that night that had you two splitting up?”

  He wouldn’t look at me. “I just discovered she wasn’t the girl I thought she was.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing, Rayne, water under the bridge.” Looked like I wasn’t the only one who had a secret. I earned his attention when he added, “I’m sorry about Ryker, but it’s probably not smart to have a booty call with your boss.”

  Anger sparked. So typical of Jackson to assume everyone’s feelings ran as shallowly as his. And it was because my temper was up that I revealed more than I intended. “It wasn’t a booty call. I’m in love with him. I’ve been in love with him for a long time. I thought he felt it too, but he doesn’t. Unrequited love takes some time to get over.”

  He looked sick, like the idea of me with Ryker made him physically ill. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, now you do. Don’t say anything, especially not to Ryker.”

  “He doesn’t know?”

  “Doesn’t matter because he isn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Rayne.”

  It was the pity I saw in his expression, the same look Kitty had given me the other day, which turned my anger into something darker. I stood and snatched up the invoices. My voice was louder than I intended. “I’m a big girl, Jackson. Something you and Ryker seem to forget. Don’t worry about me.”

  Chapter Three

  I studied myself in the mirror, the reflection not one I’d seen very often. I had taken care with dressing—not my customary jeans and tees—because I was going on a date. It was time, especially now that I’d blabbed how I felt about Ryker to Jackson. I had to move on, had to accept that Ryker and me were never going to happen. I usually wore my hair in a knot, but tonight I wore it down, the brown locks falling to my shoulders. I added a little shadow on my lids to bring out the blue of my eyes, some lip gloss, a bit of blush and with the black bandage dress I wore, I didn’t look like Rayne, manager of Ménage, I looked like a woman—a pretty one.

  Jason and I met a few weeks back during a game of paintball. He’d been fun; conversation with him had been easy. He’d been calling me ever since. I hadn’t returned his calls but after my last conversation with Ryker, I called him.

  He was picking me up at Ménage. We were heading to dinner and a movie. Being near him didn’t set my body on fire, my blood didn’t burn through my veins, but he wanted to be with me. He liked the idea of my company, sought my company and he didn’t treat me like a recalcitrant child.

  Before I left, I headed to the bar. There had been a problem earlier with one of the vendors and I wanted to make sure they made the delivery before I paid them. Jackson was behind the bar and I knew he spotted me when the loudest whistle pierced through the other noises. He used to do that all the time when we were younger. It was how he woke me for school. I didn’t get an alarm clock; I got him. It drove me nuts.

  “Looking good, little sis.”

  I put my finger to my ear, like I was trying to clear it out. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  “Ha! Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “A friend.”

  “Do I know this friend?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Stefano’s and then a movie. Did the linen vendor deliver today?”

  “Yeah.” Jackson’s focus moved to something behind me. “She cleans up good, don’t you think, Ryker?”

  Knowing Ryker was behind me, my knees went a little weak. Turning a bit to include Ryker in the conversation, I wished I hadn’t because he looked like he wanted to kill someone.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have a date.”

  Had the circumstances been different, I would have enjoyed the murderous expression that rolled over his face. I could even make myself believe he was jealous. But I knew better, confirmed when he said, “You’re going on a date dressed like that?”

  My blood burned, but not from lust. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

  He stepped back and gave me a blatant once over, staring a moment longer at my breasts. “Nothing, if you’re working a corner.”

  “Hey, back the fuck off, man.” Jackson looked like he wanted to take a swing at Ryker. I felt the urge myself, but instead I walked away. I needed my purse. I’d wait for Jason outside. And even trying not to let Ryker’s words affect me, my hands shook with anger and humiliation.

  “Who’s the guy?” Ryker asked from the door of my office.

  “Already asked and answered.”

  I grabbed my purse and turned to see that Ryker was once again blocking my exit. He rubbed a hand over his buzzed head before he dragged his focus to me, like it was a hardship to do so. “I’m sorry. What I s
aid out there was rude.”

  “I have to go.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Look, I get it. For whatever reason, you’re pissed at me. And whatever happened, it was bad enough that you’ve held a grudge for almost three years. I don’t know what I did, except throw myself at you. I haven’t attempted that heinous act again, so you can back off. You’re not interested. Message received loud and clear.”

  He moved so fast, coming from the far side of the room to crowd into my personal space. “Is that what you think?”

  “What? That my kiss was so terrible you’re still pissed about it nearly three years later. Yeah. What else would I think?”

  He crowded even closer, his warm breath fanned over my face and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning. “What I’m pissed about is having you right there, in reaching distance, and I have to keep my hands off. Do you know how many times I’ve imagined throwing you on my desk and fucking your brains out? That dress, Jesus fucking Christ, I am only human. I want to pull the top down, lift the hem up and take turns sucking on your tits and burying my face between your legs.”

  I had to reach out for my desk to keep my balance even as my body throbbed from his words. “Then why don’t you?”

  Savage was how he looked in response. “Because as much as I want you, want to hear you scream my name, want to claim you, to fucking own you, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.”

  I was honestly more pissed knowing he wanted me but was being vague as to why he wouldn’t take me. “Are you telling me the only thing keeping us from exploring what we started that night is another fucking secret?”