“Oh, fuck yeah,” he drawled. “Benefit of a smart-mouthed woman? Spanking her ass from time to time.”
“Why?”
“A reminder.”
She was openly sputtering now, and he had a hard time not cracking up.
“Reminder? Of what, may I ask?”
Someday, maybe he’d tell her how turned on he became when she used that snotty, prim, and uptight tone.
He didn’t answer her question. He just sat there and stared her down. That was all the explanation she needed. The victory dance he performed in his head after she eventually blushed and lowered her eyes had him calculating how fast he could get her somewhere private so he could fuck the living daylights out of her.
“Okay. Now that that’s settled.”
She harrumphed and wiggled on the bench but didn’t raise her eyes.
“Let’s stop all this other bullshit and talk about what’s really going on.”
Now, that got her gaze zooming to his. Thinking it was better to meet this thing head-on, he went straight to it.
“What time do you leave tomorrow?”
“Noon. And you?”
“Canceled my flight,” he started to say when her shocked gasp made him pause.
“Canceled? Why? Now, what’s going on?”
It was all there in her words. He heard the confusion. The hurt. The frustration.
He held one of her hands and continued stroking her arm. In a murmured, reassuring tone, he urged, “Easy, babe. Take a breath, okay? There’s nothing going on, and I’d tell you if there was. Ali is flying all of us by private plane. Me and the folks. The perks of being a literary superstar.”
“Oh, Ali.” A fleeting pause and then she half-smiled. “She’s batshit, ya know?”
“From my first breath,” he joked. “Sometime, I’ll tell you about the summer she rowed us out into the middle of a lake and made me jump in the water. All to test her theory that pesky little brothers were made of lead and would, therefore, sink to the bottom.”
“So when does the family fly out?”
Squeezing the fingers on the hand he held, he gave her a conspiratorial smirk and a quick wink. “When I’m ready. The plane will be on one-hour standby, so on my say, we head home.”
She wasn’t too hard to read. The thoughts and questions in her head made fleeting appearances on her face as well.
“That’s my way of saying you’re my priority, Ms. Evers. I’ll take you to the airport and make sure everything’s in order. And only once I know you’re in the air and on your way home will I consider leaving.”
She winced when he mentioned her home. What could he do to help her get past the noise in her head? They had enough to contend with. No need to create more.
“This isn’t over just because it’s time to get back to the real world. I don’t have the answers, honey. I mean, shit. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love, and neither did. . .what?”
The expression on her face was going to stay in his memory forever. “Uh, I, um, Ryan.” She was all over the place. “Wh-what did you say?”
Hmm. He rewound the last moment for a clue. When he found it, his eyes went round, and he locked gazes with her.
“Wow. Uh. Sam.”
Her laughter started quietly but quickly grew into a raucous giggle. Grabbing his forearms, she rocked back and forth and cracked up.
“Oh, my god,” she drawled between snorts of amused laughter. “Anything else?”
Ryan saw how funny it was and joined her in a good chuckle.
“So when you sell this story to cable, make sure a bullet list is included in the outline.”
She howled. “Right?”
He started ticking off everything they’d had thrown at them in the last few days.
“Time-out-of-place encounter. Some bullshit about kismet.”
“Kismet!” she shrieked with good humor. “Eyes will roll at that.”
“Instant attraction. Amp it up, though. Needs some wow, don’t you think? Like wild animal attraction or something like that.”
“You want me to use the word alpha, don’t you?”
“Hey, if the shoe fits, right?”
“Should I include the part about being set up by the bride and groom?”
Ah! He almost forgot that part. “Absolutely! Go for the gusto, babe. It’s just a rom-com without the drama. Include the crazy bitch and a possible bun in the oven.”
“And the box of thirty-six. Gotta add that.”
Their laughter sobered when they each paused. Bucket of ice-cold reality dumped on their heads.
“One thing at a time, honey.”
She nodded. The vibe rolling off her hit him like a falling brick wall.
“We’re leaving,” he abruptly announced. Signaling to the waiter, he began to gather their things.
“Where are we going?”
There was only one possible way to answer the question.
“Back to the hotel so I can make love to you with all the minutes we have left until tomorrow.”
“That’s a lot of minutes.” Her voice sounded small but hopeful.
He put his hand on her neck and caressed her throat. The move was possessive and controlling. “Not enough for what I want to do with you.”
Within minutes, they were in the back of a cab, hands clasped tightly, heads bent close together as they communicated through sighs and touches. Halfway there, she put her hand on his thigh and moved slowly upward until all pretense of decent behavior slipped away, and she boldly stroked his manhood.
Ryan barely held it together at the hotel, throwing money and a generous tip at the driver the second the car drew up to the entrance. By his calculation, they had roughly five minutes before his overpowering desire to be inside her destroyed whatever manners and constraint he possessed.
“I love Andi,” Sam murmured.
Ryan was caressing each of her fingers where they rested in the crook of his arm as they walked along. It seemed to her as though he couldn’t get enough of touching her, and she was okay with that.
“First class. Wow.”
She still couldn’t believe it, but when she did her pre-board ticket check, Sam discovered that Andi had changed her ticket and was flying her home in style. With her emotions currently all over the damn place, the extra comfort and ease of first class might help her stay sane during the flight. A flight that was taking her away from this island paradise and the wonderful man keeping her close by his side.
“She’s a great girl,” he said. “My cousin is a lucky man.”
There didn’t seem like much to say after that. Their time together was quickly winding down. With each step leading to her departure, Sam’s heart grew heavier and heavier.
The security checkpoint was in view when he waylaid them aside from the moving cluster of people and pushed her out of the way and against a wall.
“Shit, Samantha,” he growled. “This is tougher than I thought.”
She couldn’t look at him, or the tears would start.
“Honey,” he asked. Sam saw him through her lowered lashes and swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. “Are you happy in L.A.?”
It took a surprising amount of effort to choke out words. “It’s where I live, Ryan.”
“That’s not an answer. I can’t believe this is happening.”
She started melting down at the sound of emotional anguish in his voice.
He touched the side of her face and lay his palm against her neck. His thumb moved along her jawline. “Is L.A. where you’re happy, Samantha? Do you see a future there? Help me here, babe.”
Should she admit her time there had been a waste? More failure than shining success? If she did, what did that say about her? For the first time in her life, she wanted to pull what Lisa always called a Fuck-It. The temptation to throw up her hands in defeat was real. But was doing that any smarter than letting the events of a single week in her life dictate her whole future? And what exactly would happen if
she threw in the California towel?
She felt stuck.
“I’m so confused,” she admitted. “Even if L.A. was the coolest experience of my life, now that we’ve met, nothing makes sense.”
He touched his forehead to hers and held her face in his hands. She held fast to his wrists and fought a surge of threatening tears.
“Look, I know this is crazy, but I’m falling in love with you, Samantha Evers. Have been from the first moment I saw you. What we feel isn’t island madness. I guess shit like this really does happen—just never thought it’d happen to me.”
Sam threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. “Oh, Ryan. What are we gonna do?”
His warm embrace felt so right, and that only made the threatening tears more insistent.
“You’re killing me, honey.”
Her arms tightened, and she pressed her face into his neck.
“Samantha,” he groaned. “Please, baby. Tell me. Do you feel the same way?”
The gift of eloquence would have been great at that moment, but all she had was a nod and an emotional whimper.
He kissed her. They were in a public spot, and with the way their luck had gone so far, probably under direct TSA surveillance, so it was brief but deep and complete.
“Call me when you land. And then call me when you get home.”
She sniffled miserably and bobbed her head.
“Don’t cry, golden girl. We’ll figure it out. Pinky swear.”
He offered his pinky. She found the strength to laugh and curl pinkies with him. After kissing her hand, he stepped back to give her some space and stood over her as she wiped her face and pulled it together.
Walking away from him at the checkpoint was the hardest thing she could ever remember doing. As she stepped next in line for the screeners, he called out to her.
“Sam,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”
How she made it to the gate with tears clouding her eyes was a miracle. Now, all she had left to do was survive without sobbing through the whole flight like a baby.
“There’s a for real dark cloud hanging over your head, Ry. Anything I can do?”
Ali’s concerned voice let him know she wasn’t just ripping on him. Ryan glanced at his and Kyle’s folks. They were gathered around a small table playing cards and from the sound of things, their dads were cheating up a storm.
He patted the seat next to him for his sister to sit and then didn’t waste any time unburdening himself. At that moment, it occurred to Ryan that the opinion and feedback of a seasoned romance writer might be helpful.
“Jesus, Ali,” he groaned. “Got caught in the storm, big time.”
“Sam?”
“Yeah. Zero to holy shit in under ten seconds.”
“She feel the same?”
His head bobbled from the force of him throwing back onto the seat’s neck rest. “Fuck. Yes.”
He sensed Ali’s pause and turned to look at her. “What was the fuck for? This isn’t something you’re happy about, or is there something else?”
Ryan turned the other way and looked back over his shoulder—checking out what the ‘rents were up to.
“Between us?” he asked.
“Pinky swear,” she said. He almost started to cry.
“And no fucking judgment, okay?”
Her amused snort was one hundred percent older sister smugness. “Well, there’s no way I can guarantee that, squirt. So out with it and take your chances.”
Reflex made him check on his folks one more time. No way did he want them overhearing this. He shuddered at the shit storm that’d come his way if they did.
“The something else? Two words.” He choked on the telling, but he couldn’t keep it to himself. With Ky off the radar, Ali was waiting in the on-deck circle.
“Condom fail.”
“Huh? Don’t mumble, Ry. Quantum trail? What the hell is that?”
“Condom, Ali. Shit. You want me to yell it? Condom. Con-dom f-a-i-l.”
She sat back in stunned silence. “Are you sure?”
“No. I’m making it up. Of course, I’m sure. It’s my fucking job to be sure.”
“Ryan.”
“And I’m completely in love with her. Yes, after only a week,” he added when she gave him a look. “She’s fantastic, sis. Samantha’s not stuck-up or full of shit, and after seeing her and Andi together, it’s obvious she’s an amazing friend. That stuff counts in the long run.”
“Is she in love with you?”
He gritted his teeth. Ryan knew that by admitting the condom fail, he was exposing Samantha to some unjust criticism. He didn’t want the timing of their sexploits to look like she slept around. He knew better.
“We each sorta swept the other off their feet, if you know what I mean. She’s as shocked as I am by what happened.”
They sat in silence. He watched clouds drift past out the window. It was a lot for him to say and a lot for her to take in.
“What does she do?” Ali asked.
“These are her words, not mine, okay? She’d answer by saying she has a job, not a career, and the j-o-b is nothing but a funding stream. Hollywood was a knee-jerk fuck off to an old boyfriend, and I have it on good authority that she’s rather sick of the place.”
Ali’s whole face lifted in surprise. “On good authority? Good lord, Ry. Insider information?”
“Hey,” he snapped. “I didn’t go snooping. Kyle offered up what he knew. And I didn’t use the leverage, if that’s what you’re thinking. No harm, no foul.”
She gave him such a serious look that he flinched and went as still as possible.
“If I were you,” she said in a no-nonsense voice, “I would confess what you know at the first opportunity.”
He looked at her skeptically. What the hell good would that do?
Ali huffed an exasperated sigh and leaned in close. “Ryan. My god. Use your fucking head, little brother. It won’t matter that you say you didn’t act on the information. Not if she’s pregnant. Your actions will be suspect. And if she’s not? If she finds out later, you stand a good chance of resentment down the line for not giving her the space to make her own decisions. Women don’t like that shit. Trust me.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“Well, do. Think of it that way, I mean. Maybe spend some of this time considering what it’s like from her point of view. Who carries the load in a pregnancy? Imagine what it’s like, Ry. To be living your life one minute and then wham. Reality check. Nine months of physical challenges followed by a lifetime of responsibility.”
She had a good point.
“And even if she isn’t knocked up, it’s always the woman who sacrifices. The one to compromise. Interfering in any way with what Sam thinks is in her best interest to satisfy your needs is just plain fucked up. She’ll always wonder. Always have that question in the back of her mind. Is that what you want?”
“Kyle should tell her. It was him, after all. Let Ky take the flak.”
“How long are they gone?”
He did a quick review of what he knew of the honeymoon itinerary before answering.
“One week in Paris for Andi. One week in Scotland—golfing—for Kyle. And one week in New York City for shits and giggles.”
“Can you wait three weeks?”
He saw the scene flash in his mind.
‘Kyle told me you were looking for an out.’
‘Are you saying I think you’re an out?’
He shuddered, imagining her outrage.
But if he waited, Kyle would be the one confessing, and he could claim good guy status by pointing out he didn’t try to manipulate her.
“In all honesty, Ali, the relationship is so new that the next couple of weeks are going to be challenging enough without adding more. She fucking started to cry at her gate.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes to block out the memory.
“Now, you’ve done it,” she chided. “Dammit, Ry. I envy you,
ya little shit. I can write about romance till a Mars landing happens but getting a date? Pfft!”
This was an aspect of his sister’s life that baffled him. She wasn’t kidding. Men avoided her. She was beautiful, rich as all get-out courtesy of a string of bestsellers, and one of the smartest, most giving humans he’d ever known.
It was a rare moment of sibling closeness when Ali wrapped an arm around his and put her head on his shoulder. “I’m withering on the vine, and you’re staring into a long-distance abyss. Mom tries to keep her grandmother voodoo under wraps, but I think she’s knitting baby blankets under a full moon.”
They both laughed, and Ryan knew he was going to be sketching what Ali described. Because it was funny. And probably true.
“What about your pilot? Aren’t you and him knocking boots?”
Ali shrugged. “Yes and no. More no than yes. Turns out he’s got a wife. Not quite an ex, they’re separated, but the shoe still fits. Where are the nice, normal guys? What do they do? Hide?”
“You are your own worst enemy, sis. Keep telling you. Brutus wants your number. He finds a way to ask about you every damn time I talk to him.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, Ry. His name is Burke, not Brutus, and you should at least pretend to know the names of your employees.”
He smiled to himself. Burke Dancy was a hardcore badass, corporate style. In his mid-forties, the guy presented during a net-casting interview with no portfolio, no training to speak of, and no previous experience. He hired the man on the spot by gut instinct, and it was one of his best decisions. Burke not only blew Ryan out of the water with his natural talent and skills, but after he got to know him a little bit, things also got real interesting.
He’d made a pile of cash on Wall Street, managing to crash and burn his marriage along the way. It took losing his wife and kids for the single-minded financial big-wig to wake up and smell the coffee. Reinventing his entire life the way only an artist-at-heart could, he walked away from the rat race, sold everything, and moved to Florida for no reason other than it was far from New York.
The dude also had mad design skills and a vision Ryan found impressive. But for some reason, Ali wouldn’t give the guy a second look.
“I’m just saying,” he murmured.
The Wedding Affair (The Affair Series Book 2) Page 19
