by Tessa Teevan
Oh Christ. Love? Do I? I mean, I know I care about her more than anything in the world. But I don’t even know if I’d know what love is even if I watched Cupid strike me with his arrow.
Before I can contemplate the matter further, a commotion across the dance floor catches my eye. In an instant, all the warm fuzzies my mom brought to the surface flee, and all I see is red.
I’m on cloud nine. Even though I hadn’t wanted to admit it, I was nervous to meet Shane’s parents. Sure, I’d seen them at the wedding, but I wasn’t Shane’s girlfriend at the time.
I shouldn’t have worried. They welcomed me into the fold as quickly as Branson’s family had with Ariana. In fact, Shane’s mother can’t stop beaming every time she catches her son stealing a kiss from me.
“You know, you’re the first woman my son’s ever brought around.”
Shane’s father, Clay, interrupts my thoughts. I bring my attention back to him and see him smiling down at me. God, if this is any indication of how well Shane will age, it’s a good sign. Clay’s eyes are playful, crinkling at the corners with signs of years filled with laughter.
“I don’t know if that says more about him or me,” I tease.
Clay’s laughter echoes throughout the room. “Ah, my dear, I think it says the most about you. The poor boy can’t take his eyes off you. I don’t even think he trusts his old man with you.”
I laugh. “Considering we’re here celebrating your thirty-fifth wedding anniversary, I’d say he has nothing to worry about.”
A fond expression takes over his face. “Thirty-five years and I still find something new to love about Maria every single day.” He peers down at me. “I want that for my son.”
I swallow hard. “I do, too,” I answer honestly.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
The snippy tone catches me off guard.
Clay stiffens and then turns me away from the offender. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was downstairs in the bar, enjoying a cognac, when I heard about the celebration up here on the rooftop. Clay, thirty-five years with the same woman? How boring.”
I know that voice. Bile rises in my throat at the vehemence.
“Ms. Covington. Color me surprised to see you here, mingling with the enemy.”
Clay raises an eyebrow in my direction.
Anxiety washes over me, but I set my chin and do the best thing I can: I tell the truth. Placing a hand on Clay’s arm, I smile at him and then at Mr. Wellsley. “Clay, I’m not sure if Shane told you. I’m an accountant at Wellsley-Callahan,” I inform him. I nearly sigh with relief when he gives me a knowing nod. “And I certainly have no enemies here.”
Mr. Wellsley’s lip curls up in disgust. “There’s something to be said about mixing business with pleasure, Ms. Covington. Tell me, are you whoring yourself out to the highest bidder?”
My reflexes cause me to lift my hand, ready to smack him. I don’t give a damn who he is; no one speaks to me that way. Unfortunately, his own reflexes are quicker than mine and he catches my wrist, yanking me towards him.
“If we weren’t paying you enough, you could’ve just asked for a raise.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him where he can shove his raise, but before I can say a word, his hand on me is yanked away by a hulking, angry, possessive man.
“Keep your fucking hand off my girlfriend or you’ll lose it.”
Shane’s voice is low, menacing, but instead of intimidating Mr. Wellsley, it does the opposite. His sneer deepens.
“Your girlfriend.” His scowl turns back to me. “How convenient. Tell me, were you dating a Wellington before or after you were assigned to the Filiatrault team?”
Shane snaps his head toward me, his brow furrowed. “Filiatrault? That’s what you’ve been working on this whole time?”
I swallow hard as Wellsley’s booming laughter fills the air. When I catch Shane’s eyes, he gives me a wink and I realize what he’s doing. He’s pretending he had no idea, for my sake. To protect me.
“Oh, God. You didn’t know? That’s rich.” He brushes his hands back and forth. “I suppose my work here is done.”
“Get out, Archibald.”
Maria joins us, sidling up to her husband’s side and giving Mr. Wellsley a chilling stare.
“Maria, you’re just as beautiful as you were thirty-five years ago.”
Something hangs in the air after his statement. Maria sets her chin. “And you’re just as pathetic.”
It doesn’t even seem to faze him. He just chuckles, turns towards me, and lifts his glass. “Cheers.”
As quickly as he came, he’s gone.
I’m absolutely mortified. I turn and see three sets of eyes watching me intently. “I’m so sorry. I never thought my presence here would cause any kind of scene.”
Clay’s eyes soften. He pats my hand. “He never should have been here. You, however, were invited. Besides, Wellsley’s always wanted what he could never have. I pity him more than anything.” He turns to his son and must see the rage on his expression. “Son, let’s go get a drink.”
As they walk away, Maria takes my arm and folds it in with her own. “It’s not your fault, dear. Archibald Wellsley has been a sore loser since the day I chose Clay over him. You’d think he’d be over it by now.”
My eyes widen. “That’s what the rivalry is about? I thought it just stemmed from their years in school and crossed over into their business dealings.”
She gives me a warm smile. “It’s not exactly something a mother tells her son when he’s growing up. The truth is, my situation wasn’t much unlike your sister’s. From a young age, my father was close friends with Archibald’s, and when we were born less than a year apart, our parents decided they should blend our families by pushing us together. I’ve known him since I was a child, and while we were friends, there was never any love there. But my father hammered it into me that it was my duty to marry him. It was a different time then, and I almost agreed. Except when I went to visit him at school, I met Clay, and the rest is history.”
“Oh wow. I had no idea.”
“It was a long time ago, dear. I’m only telling you because I heard what Archibald said and I don’t want you to think for a second that we believe a word that comes out of that man’s mouth. You’ve made my son happier than I’ve ever seen him, and for that, I can’t thank you enough.”
Ariana wasn’t kidding when she said the Wellingtons are like the family we never had, except for each other of course.
Maria pulls me into a comforting embrace, and that’s how Shane and Clay find us a moment later. With the party winding down, we say our goodbyes to his parents and attach the promise of doing dinner next weekend before Shane’s hand takes hold of mine as he leads us towards the car service he hired to take us to and from the party.
He’s silent the entire way home, and I can’t tell if he’s stewing, contemplating, or just lost in thought. Even when I place my hand on his thigh, he doesn’t react.
I’m granted a small boon when I go to move my hand and he jerks it back to the spot where it was resting, this time not letting my hand go.
Shane lets us into his condo and heads straight towards the kitchen. I hang up my purse, remove my heels, then follow the sounds of Silk’s “Lose Control” to find him pouring two glasses of amber liquid. He pushes one across the island toward me. I take a sip, enjoying the burning sensation of whiskey that spreads warmth across my chest.
“I didn’t know you were a fan of nineties R and B.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
My heart plummets at the insinuation.
“For example, did you know that, when I was a kid, I had a pet cat? My parents got him for me for my ninth birthday. I named him Flea, which horrified my mother. Luckily, he never actually caught any. Being an only child, I took to Flea like…well, just like to a dog with fleas. We were inseparable. Every day when I came home from school, there w
as Flea, just waiting to play. Every night, he fell asleep between my feet, his purring a comfort that lulled me to sleep. I was devastated when I left for college because no eighteen-year-old boy takes a cat to his dorm room, no matter how much he wants to. Since I was only a couple of hours away, I came home nearly every weekend. Until one Tuesday morning during my sophomore when Mom called me, telling me to come home right away. I barely made it in time before we had to put him down. Kidney failure. Fuck me, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, to hold him and literally feel the life leave his body.”
Tears fill my vision, but I hold them back for him. “Shane…”
He waves me off. “It was a long time ago.” Then he lifts his glass and knocks back the entirety of its contents only to fill it again. “I’ve never been in a fight.”
I’m taken aback. “What?”
“Again, as an only child, I wanted to be friends with everyone. If I knew someone was an asshole, I went out of my way to be nice or, if it seemed a lost cause, I avoided them. Plus, with a face this pretty, why would I want to risk messing it up?”
“I’m certainly thankful for that.”
His expression darkens. “But tonight? All that changed. When I saw his hands on you, that disgusting expression on his face, I didn’t just want to fight. I wanted to kill him.”
I round the counter and take his face into my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Shane, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was working Filiatrault. It’s just… It’s so much easier not to talk about work with you. Hell, the last thing I want to do when I’m with you is talk about work.”
Shane’s hands grip my wrists. “You think that’s why I’m angry?”
I dart my eyes back and forth between his. “Is it not?”
“No! Some fucking old man had his hands on you. I don’t give a damn what you’re working. It’s not my business. Plus, I thought you’d read the situation. Alyssa, you all but told me in your note you were working on this account. I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. That’s why I’ve never brought it up. But tonight, I didn’t want Wellsley to know that I knew, just in case he tried to use it against you.”
Relief washes over me. “Shane, he’s all bluster. I’m not worried about him and you shouldn’t be, either.”
“Promise me, Alyssa. If he ever approaches you again, you will tell me and you will let me deal with it the way I see fit.”
“I promise I’ll tell you, Shane. I’ll never keep anything from you. But I won’t promise to let you fly off the handle to take care of it. I’m an adult and I’m fully capable of standing up for myself.”
He drops his forehead to mine, his eyes searching. “I just… God, Alyssa, I’m fucking falling for you and I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Did violins just start playing in the background? I swear, I hear music as my heart swells, and I can’t help the shit-eating grin I’m suddenly sporting. “You…you are?”
He blows out a breath. “Oh, yeah. It’s like a runaway train. I can’t hit the brakes and I don’t even want to. I just don’t want to fucking crash and burn.”
My hand comes to his cheek, and I stare up into soul-penetrating eyes. “It’s okay if you do, Shane. As long as you do it crashing into me.”
The morning after my parents’ anniversary party, I wake slowly, groggy from too much champagne followed by an enthusiastic round of tipsy sex. I don’t want to get out of bed, especially since Alyssa’s currently snuggled up against me. We’re both on our sides, in the spooning position. I get where that term comes from, but considering that her panty-covered ass is pressed against the thin material of my boxer shorts, it should probably be called something more like “primed and ready for fucking” position. But I supposed that’s a mouthful.
We’ve been waking together for a couple of months now. First, we only spent our weekends together. Then the weekends started gradually turning to Thursday-Monday, and now we’re at the point where we spend four or five nights a week at my place. Not that there’s anything wrong with her condo, except for the whole roommate thing.
Despite my initial hesitation, Bryan’s a pretty cool guy. Phenomenal cook—something we were surprised to have in common—but he has shitty taste in sports teams. But hey, it makes for lively weekends, and I know it pleases Alyssa for us to get along.
So, even though we’ve done this dozens of times now, I still can’t help but be amazed at just how much I love sharing my bed with her. Before her, I’d never done the whole morning-after thing. With her? It’s not even an option not to anymore.
There’s just something so intimate about waking up next to someone you care about. The curve of her ass pressed into me. The feel of soft, bare skin as her legs tangle in mine. The way my hand can splay across her belly then drift up and caress her breasts without a moment’s notice. I’m a sucker for the curve of her neck when it’s bare to me and practically begging for attention. Hell, I don’t even mind her crazy, long hair intruding into my space. I just want her here, with me, every single morning.
Folgers got it wrong.
The best part of waking up is the woman of your dreams in your arms.
Okay, so it doesn’t rhyme, but the sentiment is so much better than their jingle.
Alyssa stirs, one of her legs moving down, her skin sliding against my own. I can’t help myself. The hand currently resting on her bare stomach glides down, my fingers slipping beneath her panties and finding her already soaking wet. She pushes her ass back into my cock, moaning as I stroke her in a lazy fashion. My mouth finds the curve of her neck, and she shivers as my breath caresses her skin. I barely have to touch her and she’s already writhing. Her hand comes up behind her and holds on to the back of my head just as I sink one finger into her tight depths. My thumb and my finger work in perfect unison, working her over both inside and out until she’s trembling and crying out in pleasure.
I have no idea how long we stay like that. I’m not sure I give a damn.
Finally, she turns to face me. “Good morning,” she whispers, her eyes hooded. She brings a hand up to cup my cheek then presses soft lips to mine. Before I can say a word, her eyes light up with desire. “My turn.”
Just as I’m about to tell her she doesn’t have to reciprocate, Alyssa slides down the sheets and under the covers. And when she takes me into her mouth, I lose all sense of thought.
Last night, I said I was falling for her.
Pretty sure I’ve just been tipped over the edge.
“HEY, STRANGER.”
I look up from my desk and see Bryan there, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe. I grimace, feeling terrible that I’ve abandoned him in the last few weeks of my sexcapades with Shane.
“Hey, I was just about to email you to see if you wanted to do lunch.”
“Uh, today’s probably not a good day for that,” he says, his voice sounding off.
The frown on his face gives me pause. “What’s going on, Bryan?”
He steps into my office and closes the door behind him, something out of character for him. “Listen, we need to talk.”
I swallow hard, wondering what the hell is going on. The cloud nine bubble I’ve been on for months threatens to burst, but I tell myself to keep cool until he tells me what this is about.
“Okay, you’re freaking me out, so will you just spill it, please?”
“Word’s gotten around that you’re dating a Wellington.”
I blink. “Okay? It’s not like I was keeping it a secret. Hell, Sawyer’s known since day one and he doesn’t care. Why should anyone else?”
He holds his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m not sure anyone does care, except for one person.”
I sigh, sitting back in my chair. “Let me guess. Archibald’s on the warpath.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know anything for sure, Lyss. If I did, I’d tell you. But I don’t get a good feeling about it. You need to tread carefully.”
An
d that just pisses me off. “Me?”
“That came out wrong. Just…watch your back. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”
“There’s no wrong idea to get, Bryan. Shane and I don’t discuss work. He didn’t even acknowledge the fact I was working Filiatrault until last week, and that was only because Wellsley told him.”
Bryan nods. “Yeah, that’s making the rounds, too.”
I lift my gaze to the ceiling. “God, it’s like freaking high school in here.”
“Hey, it could be nothing. Just know that, no matter what, I’ve always got your back.”
I give him a smile. “Thanks, Bryan. That means a lot.”
I’m so engrossed with my work that I nearly jump out of my seat when another knock sounds at my door. When I look up, Mr. Wellsley steps into my office and closes the door behind him. Alarm bells ring, but I maintain my composure as best I can. Perhaps we can put what happened behind us? Wishful thinking, I know, but dammit, I love my job and don’t want to lose it. I also don’t want to lose Shane.
“Ms. Covington, do you have a moment?”
Though it’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, I resist. Instead, I plaster on a smile and nod. “Of course, Mr. Wellsley. What brings you below the top floor?”
His lips curl up into what I think is supposed to be a smile, yet it looks more like a sneer. “I wanted to come to an understanding with you in regards to the Filiatrault account.”
I sit back in my chair, struggling not to raise my eyebrows in suspicion. “Of course, Mr. Wellsley. What can I do for you?”
“It’s not what you can do for me, per se, but what you can do for the company.”
“I assure you I’m working as hard as I can.”
He clears his throat. “Let me blunt. You’re dating our top rival’s chief financial operator. If talk around the office is true, you’re practically shacked up with him.”
I can’t help the blush that crosses my cheeks. It gives Wellsley affirmation.
“As, so it is true. Perfect.”
“Perfect?”
He nods. “I can’t imagine a man in his position doesn’t take work home with him. Perhaps he has files on his computer or in his briefcase. Files that, if they fall into the right hands, can help us win Filiatrault over to our side once and for all.”
