Control Games (Game for Cookies Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  “Are you sure?”

  Not at all, but she couldn’t ask him to hang out because she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. “I’m certain.”

  “All right. Before I go, Dante messaged a few minutes ago and said the courier will be here in two hours, to take the bouquet to the airport. Is that enough time?”

  This night kept getting weirder. “Courier. As in, he’s paying someone to fly our delivery to its destination? He’s paying... What? Five hundred to a thousand dollars or more, for a forty-dollar order? I’m not the numbers person, but how does that make sense?”

  “It’s not about the money; it’s about appearances.”

  “Of course it is. Two hours should be fine. I’ll let Andi know.”

  Christopher strolled toward the exit, stopping when he was shoulder to shoulder with Julie. He squeezed her arm. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the company tonight.”

  “Anytime.” He gave her a warm smile that would have sent goosebumps racing across her skin on any other day.

  She watched him leave, then braced herself to make things right with Andi. She had no idea what she was going to say, especially if Kane was watching, but she’d figure it out.

  Kane stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall and blocking the door. He wasn’t as broad in the shoulders as Isaiah, but that didn’t make him any less imposing.

  “Andi’s got a deadline. She asked for quiet,” he said.

  Julie wasn’t in the mood for this. “Are you going to keep me out of my own place all night?”

  “No.” He looked at her with disbelief. “She’ll be done in little while and will go home with me. She’s willing to take her chances on my breaking her heart.”

  For God’s sake. Julie mirrored his crossed-arm posture and used her irritation to mask jealousy that Andi had someone looking out for her like this. It was borderline caveman, but still sweet. “I just want a chance to talk to her and apologize.”

  He slumped his shoulders and sighed. “I’ll tell her, but I won’t plead on your behalf. It’s up to her to hear you out.”

  “Yeah. I get it. Thanks.” Julie turned and headed back to the kitchen. She’d finish up with her baking for the night, and lay low in her room once Andi was gone. She hated that she’d let the confession slip in front of Andi, but at least she wasn’t hiding how she felt anymore. If Julie was lucky, Andi would cool down enough in the next day or so to give her a chance to explain.

  The notion she might have pushed away her best friend blanketed Julie’s heart and drew her closer to tears than the events of the entire rest of the day.

  Chapter Seven

  Christopher could have asked Julie any number of things to take her mind off what Dante said. The list rolled through his mind as he drove home.

  How did she like living in Chicago?

  What was her favorite color?

  Did she always want to be a chef?

  But no. He had to delve into her best friend’s relationship. He felt the same way Julie did. His perspective came from personal experience, but he didn’t see a three-way love capable of standing the test of time.

  It was good Julie felt the same. Especially since she made sure to point out her views about sex both times he brought up the topic. She served up the answer he wanted without him having to prod too deep.

  His questions were intended to distract more than Julie, though. He had to keep his thoughts from drifting back to Dante. There was no question Dante picked the fight this afternoon. On top of that, he’d decided it was better to stay away from the bakery, rather than return like he promised. If he’d come back, he and Julie could have patched things up, rather than adding a new layer of tension to the mix with Andi.

  When Christopher got home, he found Dante in the living room, staring blankly at infomercials on TV.

  Dante looked up, and the glazed-over look vanished from his eyes. “How did it go?”

  “They’ll make their deadlines.” Christopher sank into the chair across from Dante, letting the mental exhaustion of the day stake its claim. “What happened?”

  “Nash.”

  Christopher should have guessed. He didn’t need more details. It went something like—Dante’s job was threatened, the stress sank in, and he threw a tantrum and took it out on Julie and Andi. “One of these days, you’re going to lose more than your show over something like this.” The way Nash ran the program was a large part of the wedge growing wider between Dante and Christopher. Dante’s inability to keep his temper in check, and tendency to take his frustration out on people besides Nash added to that.

  “What do you want me to do? Quit?” Dante asked.

  Yes. Desperately. But this was Dante’s dream. Christopher couldn’t ask that. “No. You have enough influence. When are you going to talk to the network about spinning up a show that doesn’t have Nash’s name on it? Something like what we used to do?” Take these investment opportunities and make them a full-time gig. Spend two or three or six episodes in a place, before moving to the next.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “What if it came down to me or the show?” Christopher asked.

  “Are things that bad? Is that the point we’re at?”

  Christopher’s heart clenched at the thought of ending this relationship. “No. We’re not there.” Yet. He hated that he couldn’t rule it out.

  “Because I’d pick you in a heartbeat. I can’t lose you.” Dante slid from the couch and moved to sit at Christopher’s feet. “Help me write up a proposal. When we’re done with midseason filming, I’ll take it to the executives.”

  Shock raced through Christopher. It wasn’t that he disliked the idea. In fact, he’d been pushing for Dante to do this for a while. To take back control of his show and cast Nash aside in favor of doing something Dante enjoyed. Not that Christopher was going to argue or question the decision. “All right.”

  “How are Julie and Andi?”

  “Possibly not speaking.”

  Dante frowned. “Because of me?”

  “No.” Christopher raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s on me. I was feeling Julie out.”

  Dante raised his brows.

  “To distract her.”

  “And to see how good your odds are of fucking her,” Dante said. There was no malice or hurt in his voice.

  “Probably some of that. Or a lot of it. Anyway, she voiced the opinion that poly sex is fine but three-person relationships never last, right as Andi walked in.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. So tomorrow should be fun.” As if there wasn’t enough stress in that place. Christopher’s curiosity had made things worse. Whatever disagreement Julie and Andi had was between them, and on Julie, for not being nearly as honest with her business partner as she claimed. However, it wasn’t up to him to expose that, intentionally or otherwise.

  He didn’t want to talk about this any longer. It wouldn’t solve things. “How’s your arm?”

  “It’ll be fine.” Dante twisted to expose the inside of his forearm. The angry red welt that was there earlier had faded to a harsh pink line.

  A sudden urge to put the day behind him swept over Christopher, weighing him down from his feet to his soul. “I have cookie crumbs stuck in unnatural places. Join me in the shower.” He stood and pulled Dante to his feet. Cupping the base of Dante’s neck and crashed his mouth down on Dante’s in a desperate kiss. He held Dante close, needing to sink into the rush of desire that flowed in an open connection between them.

  Too much about everyday life was out of whack, but at least here, in the comfort of their private sanctuary, some things could be made right.

  Chapter Eight

  Dante fumbled for his phone in the dark, refusing to admit he was awake enough to open his eyes. He grasped the familiar casing and answered. “Hello?”

  “Hey. I’m sorry to wake you. I didn’t think you’d want this to wait until morning.”
It was Julie.

  Even groggy, Dante had enough sense to recognize the tension running through her voice. It was enough to snap him awake. “What’s wrong?”

  Behind him in bed, Christopher pulled away and the mattress shifted.

  “Vandalism. I think that’s all it was; it doesn’t look like they took anything. Broken front windows. I don’t think they had time for more. I’m sure I terrified them when I shouted downstairs that I had a giant dog I wasn’t afraid to sic on them.” Her laugh was strained.

  “Shit.” Concern spiked through Dante. He felt guilty as it was for what he said yesterday afternoon. He never should have taken his frustrations out on Julie and Andi, especially like that. And now, she was dealing with a break-in at—he glanced at the clock—two in the morning. “Are you all right?” He climbed from the bed and reached for his pants.

  “I called to let you know; that’s all. I’m fine.” She sounded anything but.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Christopher dressing as well. “We’ll be there in less than half an hour,” Dante said.

  “It’s no big deal. You don’t need to make a special trip. The windows will still be broken in the morning, and your investment is safe.”

  The last part of her statement—especially the way her voice cracked—sliced through him like honed steel. “Julie, that’s all stuff. It’s replaceable. I’m worried about you and Andi.”

  “She’s not here. Not yet. I guess this was a good enough reason for her to talk to me. I’m babbling. If you insist on coming over, I’ll see you when you get here.” Julie disconnected.

  Dante didn’t like feeling guilty. It was in his top-five list of emotions he didn’t have a use for. Right now, remorse had a powerful grip on him. In addition to everything else, this probably wouldn’t have happened if their shop wasn’t associated with his name.

  “What’s going on?” Christopher fell into step beside him, grabbed the car keys, and they headed outside.

  “Someone trashed the bakery. Julie was home alone. She says she’s okay, but she sounds rattled.”

  “Jesus. Do you blame her?”

  “No.” Dante was grateful Christopher took the wheel. Christopher was more level headed and tended to compartmentalize things better, and that would make for a safer drive.

  The entire trip, horror scenarios raced through Dante’s head. What if Julie were downstairs when the vandals struck? Or they had decided to see if anyone was upstairs? She said she was all right, but was she trying to cover up something worse? That would be like her.

  He forced the thoughts aside. This kind of worry-without-cause wasn’t like him. It must be lingering guilt from the way he acted yesterday.

  When they arrived, a single police car was parked in the lot. Dante clenched his jaw. At least it wasn’t more. The publicity nightmare that would cause... The thought was followed by a fresh wave of regret.

  “You didn’t expect her to not call them,” Christopher said, as if reading Dante’s mind.

  “That would be ridiculous.”

  Christopher raised his brows. They parked, climbed from the car, and made their way to the front of the bakery. Julie had understated the damage. He’d pictured a single broken pane of glass. Instead, the entire front array lay in shards on the ground, edges glinting and taunting in the streetlights.

  Despite not wanting to acknowledge his concern, Dante couldn’t ignore the relief that whispered through him when he saw Julie talking to a police officer. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. She wore loose knit pants and a long-sleeved shirt that hung off her frame and clung to every curve. She was stunning. Besides the occasional shake of her head and the way she wrapped her arms around herself, she looked intact.

  She looked in their direction, and the lines in her forehead deepened when she saw Dante, then vanished when she glanced past him, to where Christopher stood. She turned back to the officer. “We do have security cameras. I’ll show you where the footage is.”

  “Julie, let me.” Christopher stepped forward. Whether it was to protect the sanctuary of his server room or to help her out, Dante didn’t know. A little of both, perhaps.

  Her relaxed expression twisted into a scowl again. “I’ve got it.” Her tone held a sharp edge.

  Of course she had it. Because she needed to feel like she was in control of something. Tonight—this morning?—Dante didn’t blame her. He grabbed Christopher’s arm. “Let her go. Put in a call to Aiden. I want someone here every night.”

  “Got it.” Christopher dialed. Though his specialty was digital security, he’d made plenty of friends and contacts over the years in other aspects of the business. Aiden was a friend of Christopher’s from college, who ran her own private firm, offering armed muscle for hire. Suits were optional.

  They couldn’t make most arrangements for a few hours, but while Christopher was on the phone, Dante called and got the insurance claim started. No, he didn’t have time for an adjuster to come out and appraise the damage. Yes, he understood that meant they might not cover all the charges. His next contact was someone to come out and board up the windows.

  Julie returned with the officer seconds after Andi walked through the back door with Isaiah. Andi sprinted to Julie and wrapped her a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right. You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “I’m not. The shop is.” Julie returned the squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. We say things—heat of the moment—but I know you’ve always got my back.” Andi let her go.

  The exchange raised Dante’s curiosity, but questions could wait. Julie finished with the policeman, and then sent him on his way. He didn’t think there was much they could do, since the cameras on the front door and inside the dining area were out, but he’d be in touch if they found anything.

  Dante intertwined his fingers with Christopher’s, as they hung on the fringe of things. He felt out of place and powerless, and he wasn’t fond of the sensation. “I have someone coming in to keep an eye on things, starting tonight,” Dante said.

  Julie frowned.

  “Come back with me.” Andi tugged Julie’s fingers. “The guys have a spare bedroom. You can’t stay here the rest of the night. I don’t care that the apartment locks separately.”

  “No. Thanks.” The waver was gone from Julie’s voice, replaced with an eerie steel.

  Andi twisted her mouth. “Why not?” Irritation wormed into her tone.

  “Not because of the guys. I promise.” Julie’s eyes softened when she looked at her. “I’m not going back to bed tonight, and I can’t keep the three of you up with my pacing.”

  “It’s going to be a long day.” Dante knew the comment wouldn’t do him any good.

  He should have expected the venom Julie turned in his direction. “I’ve gotten used to long days. Besides, since when do you care?”

  The instinct to snap back at her welled inside, and he clenched his fist until he had it under control. “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.” He looked between both women, keeping his tone sincere. “I shouldn’t have taken my stress out on you.”

  “It’s done and in the past.” Andi gave him a tight-lipped smile.

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Sure. Whatever.”

  So much for making things right.

  *

  Julie felt like she was going to crawl out of her skin if she didn’t find a task to do soon. The small talk. The bullshit police report that would probably never become anything. And now Dante, thinking this was an appropriate time to ease whatever out-of-whack guilt compass he had. She just needed all the polite, touch-feely formality to stop, so she could do something.

  She turned back to Andi. “If things aren’t livable by tonight, I’ll take you up on the offer, if it’s still on the table.”

  “It always is.” Isaiah said.

  Julie forced herself to give him a smile. He was trying to help. She pulled Andi to the alcove between the kitchen and the back stairs, away from prying ear
s. “When this is all over, or tonight, give me a chance to explain myself?”

  “You know I will.” Andi said. “Just because I have the guys doesn’t mean I need you any less.”

  Julie hated how close to home the words hit, but it was better Andi think that’s all the issue was, at least until they could have a real conversation not provoked by duress. “Take your man home. Get some more sleep. We’ll regroup at a more human hour.”

  Andi gave her another hug, then left to fetch Isaiah.

  Julie wandered back into the main body of the shop and was surprised to see Dante and Christopher still there. “Did you need something?”

  “We’re supposed to ask you that.” Christopher studied her, concern in his eyes.

  “I’m good. I’ll make some coffee, hang out here until I can get someone to come board up the windows, call the insurance company—”

  “Already done.” Dante cut her off.

  She bit the inside of her cheek, to stem the abrupt surge of aggravation. “I could have taken care of that.”

  “I never said otherwise, but you don’t have to.” Dante didn’t sound as mean as normal. She didn’t know if that was comforting or more irritating.

  “Besides, we have an ulterior motive for sticking around, in addition to making sure you have company,” Christopher said.

  She eyed him with suspicion. “What’s that?”

  “If you’re not sleeping anyway, we’ll all go out to breakfast. There’s a place around the corner.” Christopher wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her to sit. She thought about resisting, but the gesture was more comforting than she expected.

  “I’d rather not leave.”

  “We’re going anyway,” Christopher said. “Your company would be nice.”

  “There’s a clause in my contract.” Dante crossed his arms and leaned against an empty slice of wall. “If I have access to any restaurant affiliated with the network or another show or host or that’s been featured on the network, I have to eat there if I’m eating out. But at four in the morning, which it will be by the time the board person gets here, none of those places are open. And some days, a guy just wants pancakes, bacon, and eggs, without having to worry about whether the garnish on the plating is edible or not.”