by Zoë Lane
Her smile was a gentle chastisement. “Come on, Skywalker. Think of me as Yoda. I’ll teach you what you need to know—”
“To defeat the Empire?”
She chuckled. “Exactly!”
I grinned. “Nerd.”
“Let’s try answering a few questions where you could deflect the attention off yourself and put it on the team.”
As she opened her portfolio and flipped a couple of pages over its side, I stared at the tiny fixer, who suddenly commanded more of my respect and admiration—and attraction. How had Little Mouse gotten so introspective? Had she always been this smart? I’m just used to spending time with chicks that literally giggle more than they speak words.
Suddenly anxious and nervous about how she would judge me and my answers, I began to sweat. Why had I worn sweatpants? And I was a butt crack sweater. Had to wear two pairs of boxers just to not look gross in the gym.
“What made you want to work in crisis management?” I asked right before she could start pelting me with questions.
She blinked. “I…ah…” She shrugged. “I like solving problems. Finding creative solutions. Then, when I was considering exactly which type of specialization, I came across my firm and I just knew it was exactly what I wanted to do.”
“Have you always been this way? A problem-solver?
She looked away, pinning her bottom lip with a few of her top teeth. “Not really in the way you’d think.”
“How? Fill me in. You’ve seen my crap, I want to know something about you.”
She chuckled, but crossed her arms and tilted her head to once side. “You want to know my ‘crap’?”
“Can’t be as bad as mine. Hit me.”
“My parents lost a child before I was born. I’m the ‘replacement’ baby. The creative solution, so to speak.”
“Rose…”
“My mother hovers over me like a helicopter parent on steroids—the hard stuff. And I’m never sure if I’m good enough for them.” She smiled and laughed lightly, the sound not at all jovial.
“Not good enough for your parents?”
She nodded, a sheen covering her eyes. “I’m not Lily. I’m Rose. Lily, a name that means purity and beauty, ironically is used a lot at funerals,” she said bitterly. She turned away and went back to her chair. When she sat, all trace of being lovestruck had disappeared from her perfectly heart-shaped face, electrified by the lightning storm that had disintegrated cloud nine.
My body went cold. Good news, I wasn’t sweating anymore, but now I was more uncomfortable than ever. A sister she’d never met that she harbored some anger against. I didn’t know what I would do if I ever lost my sister. We’d only had each other to get through the beatings when we were kids. I would never wish anything to happen to her.
Rose cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, that was mean,” she whispered. “I didn’t even know her, but she haunts me. Probably more my mother, and then my mother does what she can to control me.”
I shifted my stance from one foot to the other and forced the podium to take more of my weight. “How did she die, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“A kid threw a ball into the street, and she ran after it. Got hit by a car. She was four years old. Mom said she would never look both ways, no matter how many times she told her.”
I made an audible sound of disgust. The thought of seeing your child crumpled in the street. The only image that my sick brain conjured up was my sister Lacey at that age. Except for school, we were rarely let out of the house before we were teenagers.
“Admittedly, my father’s different. He’s so encouraging. But my mother rules in our house. This job…” She looked around the room. “It’s an amazing opportunity.” He eyes landed on mine. “Look at where I’m at. My mother doesn’t see it. I’m better off”—she laughed ruefully—“trying to trap you into marriage. Rich, handsome…”
Feeling too far away, I left the podium and squatted in front of her. I unclenched her hands and held each one in my own. “Rose, I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours either,” I said emphatically.
Her lips angled down to one side in a half-grin, half-frown. “You see, I know that, but that doesn’t change my reality.”
“You can change your reality.” I knew from experience. “You have a great job at a powerful firm. A degree. And you’re smart…and beautiful…” My mind was failing me, running out of things to say while gazing into her deep amber eyes. Her small but plump mouth had opened into a tiny O, her softly shaped brows tilting upward in disbelief. She hadn’t pulled her hands away from mine, and they felt so warm. I inhaled a sweet fruity scent I recognized as her perfume. Not something I’d thought she’d wear, given her buttoned-up appearance. It seemed too…wild and free-spirited.
That’s what she was inside, or maybe what she wanted to be.
Seen. She wanted to be seen. Her own identity apart from her sister’s ghost.
Either way, she was staring back at me with an intensity that drew me forward. Her eyes only widened slightly and then hooded a mere second before our lips touched. A slight moan escaped her mouth into mine.
What doctor?
I pulled her up into my embrace, holding her tight against my frame. Her hands landed on my shoulders, holding, not pushing. I didn’t ravage her mouth like I had wanted to earlier. I took my time, exploring every curve with my own and allowing her to taste my tongue as it filled her mouth, slow and easy.
She melted against me, her own tongue seeking out parts unknown, her hands rounding my collarbone, down my chest to dip under my arms. I wanted those fingers on my skin. Why should my shirt get all the action? When she couldn’t press into me any more, I tugged her closer, my arms wrapping so firmly around her I was afraid she’d winced from being crushed. Instead, she moaned again, finding a slight gap between our hips and writhing nearer.
The region below my waistband went firm, and I really wished I hadn’t worn the sweats, because in an instant my veins felt like they were on fire. Never when I experienced this heat did I ignore it. I scored. Every. Single. Time.
“Landyn,” she whispered urgently—or maybe begged?—between kisses. “Please.”
Definitely begging.
“I will,” I promised. Whatever she wanted me to do to her, I was going to make it happen. I didn’t want to disappoint this girl. She was too sweet, too risky to let go.
Mine.
“You…don’t…mmm…” she murmured.
I dragged my lips away from hers and she let out a long sigh like she’d been drowning. I traced a path from her jaw to her earlobe and down to the crook of her neck. I’d commit this one to memory. “I can do it, sweetheart, just tell me what you want.” Her body trembled against mine and she squeezed me harder. I nipped at her earlobe and whispered into her ear, “The spa. Plenty of empty massage rooms.” I took one of her hands in mine, but when I moved toward the exit, I got resistance.
“We can’t,” she said in a whisper, her face contorted in disappointment.
It was like I’d just gotten hit in the face with a cooler full of ice cold Gatorade. My ego plummeted. “Just to be clear, you want to.”
The movement was slight, but she nodded. I didn’t know the last time I’d felt this relieved. Was it when I had seen the amount of money on my contract? I was going to be able to finish paying off my sister’s school loans, and money wouldn’t be an issue for us anymore.
Damn, I wanted Rose. Bad. And not because she’d just refused me—an experience that—
“I know this has probably never happened to you before, but…” She gave a small smile, a dash of hilarity in her gaze before her voice turned somber. “We promised to be professional.”
First, the mind-reading. The way we were in sync. Did she know it?
Second, “You told me what we have to do, and I agreed that we should. Doesn’t necessarily mean I’m gonna do it.” I had promised not to kiss h
er before the first game.
Fail.
She rolled her eyes and snatched her hand back. “Yes, I know. You’re not one for rules.”
I tried reaching for her hand and got denied—again—when she placed them both beneath her arms. Rejected. Twice in less than two minutes. I wasn’t sure if the turbulent feeling in my gut was embarrassment or just how my body was coping with acceptance. “Rose—”
“We had a moment, that’s all.”
“You’re serious?”
She inhaled and held her breath. “Yes.”
“You think that’s all it was? A moment?” Now my gut had hardened and I began to get a sense my blood was getting hot from a different kind of passion.
She wouldn’t meet my gaze. Sitting back down, she picked up the folder. “You were very kind to me a moment ago, and…distracting—”
“Distracting!”
“We should get back to work, Landyn. There’s a few scenarios I’d like to review so I can report that all of the bases have been covered.”
“Wrong sports analogy. And excuse me, but I wasn’t offering myself to distract you.”
Her narrowed eyes shot up and she launched from her chair. “Now you’re acting offended? The guy who doesn’t mind taking whatever is offered without considering the consequences? Actually giving yourself to someone for once is unacceptable? Or did you think I should be the one giving, to thank you for being so nice?”
I pointed my finger in her face. “You don’t know what I’ve given, and I wouldn’t take whatever you’re offering.”
She put her hands on her hips and laughed out loud. Laughed! “Oh, really? Because a second ago, you couldn’t wait to get me into some backroom closet—”
“Massage room.”
“—and screw me for having a memory about a dead sister I’ve never met. Talk about insensitive!”
“You said you wanted it! Remember, I asked you.”
“I had a moment of weakness!”
“Really? Poor doctor. Does he know how weak you are?”
I felt the sting on my cheek before I ever saw the hand move. Then a look of terror crossed her face as her hands went to her mouth. Eyes like saucers, she took a few steps back and hit the chair. I caught her in my arms before she tumbled backwards. She landed hard against me, inhaling sharply at the contact.
My groin betrayed me again, and all I wanted to do was kiss her.
Well, more than that.
“Landyn,” she breathed.
“You’re welcome,” I said, my whisper throaty.
“Thank you. I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.” I’d already forgiven her, because ultimately she was right. No matter how much I wanted her and how much I felt she wanted me, I was a client to her and couldn’t be anything more.
I sat her upright and backed away. Probably the most noble thing I’d done all week—except, of course, playing with children at summer camp and dancing with old folks.
“I’m done for the day,” I declared and moved past her. No protest, no plea. I left the room in silence and quickly moved down the hall toward the gym. Lift. The best way to burn a ton of calories and get my mind off getting her off underneath me. So she’d report that I’d refused the session. So what? She had refused me.
Not that she was supposed to trade favors.
Whatever. I had her kiss, her touch burning through my body at an ever-accelerating rate with no way to halt its progress. I was being torched on her pyre, and no one had ever survived being burned at the stake.
That I knew of…
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LANDYN
“What in the hell…?”
I dropped my hoodie on the floor of my den entryway and went stiff. Lacey shot me a nervous grin and made a presenting gesture with two shaky hands.
“Dad’s here…” Her voice sputtered and died.
I didn’t need this. Any of it. I still had Rose on my mind and now I had to come home to this bastard sitting on my couch.
“I can see that,” I responded through a clenched jaw. I worked it so I could tell this man to get the hell out of my house.
“Son—”
“Landyn!”
Lacey jumped from her position on the couch. Carter slowly stood, his hands out like he wanted to surrender. Good. Finally. Instead of his kids being subject to whatever he wanted to beat us with if his hands were too bruised from the night before, he wanted some of the same treatment.
I balled my fists, happy to comply.
“Landyn. I was just here to—”
“Lacey,” I addressed my sister. “How did he get in here?”
“I…I let him in.”
“How. Did. He. Find. You?”
Her expression turned sheepish. “I…I gave him your address.”
I glared at my sister. Usually I only did that so she’d do whatever I told her to do, which was usually to go hide in the back of the closet and not come out until I came and got her—after one of Carter’s many beatings.
I still didn’t understand how they connected in the first place, but I could figure that out later.
“Landyn, he said he wanted to apologize and make amends. He’s going through this process—”
“And you trust him!” I cried. “Lacey, he beat you. He beat me! You can’t let this man near you again!” I stalked toward Carter. “Get out of my house!”
“Landyn!” Carmencita’s shocked and disappointed voice hit me in the back. “Es tu padre!”
“Carmencita, call the police,” I ordered.
“Landyn, there’s no need for that. I’m not here to cause either of you two harm. I just want to talk. Clear the air,” Carter said.
Lacey’s hand clutched my left arm. She tried to pull me around to face her, finally yanking on my arm to break the connection I had with Carter. “Landyn, wait. I think we should hear him out.”
“Oh, I already did. He ambushed me at practice.”
“Now, wait a minute—”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do in my house,” I interrupted him. “I paid for this. It’s mine. If you want to say something, you can leave and get your own place.” I remembered those words being said to me more than once by the bastard in front of me. Well, I had done just that.
“Please, he’s said he’s changed. He’s married!”
“Lacey, do you remember what happened to Mom? Do you?” I pled with her. Lacey had been three when our mother left. Three. Lacey’s lower lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. I roughly wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her in close. “He made her run away,” I whispered into her ear. “She never came back. She couldn’t come back. She left us with him.” My own eyes, clouded by moisture, still found Carter. “That’s what a man like him does. You think his new wife will be treated any differently?”
“Actually, she will,” Carter said defensively. “I will treat her better. I’ve never hit her, never raised my voice to her. She and I communicate like normal, mature adults. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I…I’ve matured a lot since… I’m here to prove it to you. To have a relationship with you.”
I held my sister behind me as I faced the man who’d sired us. I was taller and bigger than him now. I could still take whatever beating he could give, only this time I’d punch back. “Funny how you show up when I get a pro contract. You gonna tell me you don’t know how much money I’m getting? Because all you have to do is Google it.” I leaned forward, forcing him to keep my gaze. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” I whispered. “You want money.”
“Landyn! You can’t accuse him of that,” Lacey said. “Take him at his word.”
My sister and I were going to have a long conversation about loyalty, but only after I either broke Carter’s nose with my fist or threw him out of my house—physically. I’d leave the choice up to him.
“Think what you want, son, but I mean it when I say I only want a relationship with you.”
If he call
ed me “son” one more time, I swore I’d make his new wife a widow. She’d be better off.
“Get. Out,” I growled. “Now.”
Carter backed away. “Fine, fine. I will respect your home. But I want you to know that I’m not going to stop. Lacey has a right to hear me out, and to have a relationship with me.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She’s a grown woman, Landyn, who’s capable of making her own decisions. You can’t interfere with that.”
“I can, just like I interfered every time you wanted to beat a five-year-old in the face for wetting her bed because she’d have nightmares of her own father chasing her around the house and whipping her across the face with a belt. Like hell I can’t interfere!”
I heard the boom in my voice as powerful as the surround sound system I’d bought for this room. Fueled with outrage, I continued, “If you ever come back to this house again, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
Carter said no more, putting his hands up in surrender. I followed him until he was out of the condo and into the elevator, Lacey pleading for him to come back and for me to see reason.
Oh, I saw a lot of reasons to do more than let him walk out of his own volition.
I phoned the concierge and asked them to send me a text when the man had left the building. Two minutes later, I got confirmation. Me cell shook in my hands, my lower jaw seizing. The adrenline I’d get before a championship game surged through me and I regretted my choice of letting Carter walk out of here without a beating.
Carmencita hadn’t phoned the police like I had asked, but she had been in the kitchen fixing hot chocolate—my go-to drink to make me feel warm and comfortable. I hadn’t exactly grown up in a home where the father would take his kids out on camping trips and we’d have hot chocolate and roast marshmallows.
For a moment I considered the gin tucked back inside one of the lower cabinets, and then I inhaled sweet chocolate. I took the two cups Carmencita made and returned to the den, where my sister sat on my couch, hugging her knees to her chest, her face buried. She sniffed and I knew she was crying. Over Carter leaving or me exerting authority over her, I wasn’t sure.
