The Calamity Falls Box Set

by Erika Kelly

  “It’s interesting, but I’m not looking for an empire just yet.” She had her eye on the prize. Jack Abrams, come at me.

  “I get that. But it’s a way to make sure you never have to work for assholes like Luc again.”

  “He’s not an asshole.” He could be petulant and immature, but Gray didn’t understand him the way she did.

  “Yeah? You hear from him since he blacklisted you from the suppliers?”

  “No.” That sharp look he’d just given her meant she’d had more hurt in her voice than she’d intended. “You have to understand. He plucked me out of the mass of students graduating fashion schools all over the world, and then he took me in and mentored me—in a way he’s never done with anybody else. That’s so incredibly rare and special.”

  “That’s because you’re incredibly rare and special.” The trail intersected with a gravel driveway, and he turned onto it. “Your talent is.”

  “Gray, I quit my job. I left that amazing, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity he’d given me, and he still supported me. He gave me my dream.” The reminder that Bridal Fashion Week was three weeks away, and she wouldn’t be there, still stung.

  “He did it to get more designs from you. No matter how you spin it, he’s an asshole.”

  “No, he’s a businessman.”

  His eyebrows hitched up. “You’re saying your relationship was strictly business?”

  “Of course.” The lie pinched her heart. “What else could it have been?”

  “When you first moved to Paris, did he have you over for dinner?”

  Oh, dammit. Don’t do this. “Yes, but I’d never been overseas before, never been away from home.” But, of course, she’d been away at college for four years, so that wasn’t exactly true.

  “He get you presents on your birthday?”

  She nodded.

  “Did he get them for his other employees?”

  No. “I don’t know what he did in private. Everyone got a fabulous gift basket for Christmas with soaps and candles and macarons.”

  “But he gave you something special on your birthday?”

  Again, she nodded. What could she say? Luc had made her feel—

  “So, he pretty much positioned himself as family.”

  Hearing the truth out loud was like taking a sip of too-hot coffee. It scalded. “I don’t know about family. But he looked out for me.”

  “And, again, I’m going to ask, did he do that with other employees?”

  “Maybe he did.” Why was she even arguing? Was she really going to hold onto some sense of loyalty when she knew without a doubt Luc had behaved differently with her than he had with anyone else? “No, he didn’t.” There’s no way he’d dropped by anyone else’s apartment with chicken noodle soup and a baguette, a brand new Kindle, and a bouquet of flowers when they’d been down with the flu.

  Which is how he’d had access to your sketchbook.

  That galvanized her. “He did try and make me feel special. Everyone else had to come into work every day, but he understood my creative process and gave me the freedom to run with it.” She glanced at him. “I can’t work in a cubicle with all that noise and activity around me.”

  “You get distracted.”

  “Exactly. So, he let me work at home a lot. Well, not literally at home. I walked for hours, watching people, looking at buildings, touring museums. He saw the results, so he gave me the space to create, the exposure to all the things that sparked my imagination.” She looked at his handsome profile. “I thought he was encouraging me by bringing me presents or food or whatever. At the time, I didn’t think he was manipulating me.”

  “When did you realize he was?”

  “After he stole my private sketchbook. From my apartment.”

  “Fucker. He wanted your talent, so he groomed you to be loyal to him.”

  “No, I mean, he was always perfectly clear. When he gave me a gift, he’d always say he was offering sacrifices to the Gods so that I’d create a dream collection for him. He was honest about it.”

  “Except when he stole your designs?”

  “Yeah, that…that was awful. But my point is that he was very upfront about what I was to him. He’d flat-out say, This line’s going to make me a superstar. He never pretended to be doing me any favors.”

  Thick foliage, heavy with white and yellow flowers, bracketed the driveway, and the forest grew denser.

  “But the fact that he’d blacklist you means he thinks you owe him something,” he said. “And I’d bet my future gold medal that he thinks you do not because he was generous enough to back you in fashion week, but because he worked so damn hard to make you feel like family. I bet that doesn’t come naturally to him.”

  “Considering how little that medal means to you, you make it too easy to take that bet.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you’re twenty-five years old, Gray. You could’ve been in two Olympics by now. Not to mention you’re taking me on a field trip when you should be at the gym.” No matter what he said about getting a work-out in…it was still eight in the morning.

  He chuckled.

  “No one else on the Olympic team would take a day off for anything other than an emergency.”

  “I’m running a business. Besides, it’s just a few hours.”

  “Pretty sure your work ethic is going to give your coach an aneurism.”

  “Fin’s not fond of my work ethic, but he respects my results.” Right where the driveway curved, blocking the view of what lay ahead, Gray stopped and looked at her. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? You keep pushing me away to see if I’m going to bail on you, too.”

  Yes. It was like biting into a fiery pepper, the heat burning a path all the way down to her stomach. He’s right. That’s exactly why I keep pushing him away.

  They continued on, and the road gently crested, revealing a fairytale pine forest. Nestled in the center sat a charming log cabin. Bright purple and red flowers danced in a breeze in the window planters, and a stone walkway led to a wide, wraparound porch.

  “Gray.” She took in a sharp breath. “It’s gorgeous.” Leaves fluttered overhead, and she felt totally encased in the cool shadow of the pine trees. “I can’t believe you live here.”

  “I like it.” He held her gaze, like he wanted to say something. Instead, he pressed his lips together, the muscle in his jaw working. There was some kind of powerful meaning in his eyes that she couldn’t read. It was a little tortured, a little pleading, and painfully vulnerable. “Now, come inside and let me make you breakfast.” His voice sounded rough, gravelly.

  She glanced at his home, aware that somewhere deep down, she thought maybe she did understand.

  She was just having a hard time believing it.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Knox soared, her hair flying around her face.

  “Flip,” Gray called.

  But she hadn’t gotten enough air, so she dropped back down and, this time, sprang off the trampoline even harder. Arms pumping, she urged her body higher.

  “Come on, Knox. Do it.”

  Coming back down, she punched the surface with both feet and took off. There you go. Hurling herself forward, she performed the most awkward flip of all time. She landed on her back, bounced, and started cracking up.

  “You have the grace of a puppy running on ice.” Gray bounced onto her trampoline from an adjoining one, making her flop around. He kept jumping, his torso straight as an arrow before twisting in ways no human body should go—more proof of his insane core strength and stamina.

  “Stop.” Unable to take being tossed around, she crawled to the edge, turning just in time to watch him execute some quick, twisty maneuvers.

  He kept going, jumping ridiculously high, bending his legs and turning sideways, then rotating once, twice—oh, my God, a third one?—before landing and doing it all over again. Watching him, her chest got tight, and her pulse flickered in her neck.

  He was…everythin
g. Powerful, confident, kind, thoughtful, protective…and she wanted him. So fiercely, her whole body seized with it.

  Tonight, he’d found her alone in the bunkhouse. He’d brought her burgers and fries from Skeeter’s, and they’d eaten them outside in the purple twilight. When she’d mentioned she hadn’t exercised since the day she’d left Maui, her routine of surfing and yoga destroyed along with her dresses, he’d brought her to the training facility.

  Bounding onto the trampoline nearest her, he curled up tightly and did three fast flips in a row before landing on his back. He held out a hand. “Come here. Let’s look at the stars.”

  “We’re indoors, genius.” But she lay down beside him anyway.

  “For a creative sort, you’re not all that imaginative.”

  “I think it has something to do with the fact that you filled my belly with greasy fries and burgers and then made me shake it all up on the trampoline.”

  “I haven’t seen you laugh since I crashed into your living room. I call it a win.”

  “You, Gray Bowie, are pure win.”

  He rolled onto his side, hiking up on an elbow. “Tell me more about my awesomeness.”

  She loved being with him like this, when it was just the two of them alone, no cares, no worries. “I think you’re my most favorite face in the world.”

  “I know you’re mine. Always have been.”

  Oh, Gray.

  “What’s that look for? Do I make you uncomfortable when I say things like that? Because I spent a lot of years shutting it down, and I don’t want to do that anymore. But I know you don’t feel the same way, so if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”

  She rolled to her side and faced him. “What do you mean, ‘you know I don’t feel the same way?’ Are you sick in the head? Gray, you are seriously the hottest, smartest, kindest, most handsome man on the freaking planet.”

  “Well, yeah.” He gave her a smug smile, and she poked his ribs. “But that doesn’t mean you’re attracted to me. Attraction isn’t intellectual. It’s visceral. It lives in the body, not the mind.”

  Underneath that lazy smile and sleepy eyes lay an alertness that phrased an unspoken question. And the idea that Gray Bowie lived with that kind of doubt hurt her. “You’re not giving the mind enough credit. How we see the world comes from our experiences.”

  “What does that have to do with chemistry? You’re either attracted to someone or not.”

  “What if your mind shuts down even the possibility of that attraction?”

  “Why would it do that?”

  “A bunch of reasons.”

  “Like?”

  “Like…maybe you couldn’t imagine that the guy would ever be interested in you, and so your mind doesn’t list it as an option. Life does a number on us, Gray, and it twists our perceptions.”

  “What’re you saying?”

  He wanted her to say it out loud. He deserved that. “I’m saying that I never imagined in a million years you’d see me as anything other than a hot mess.”

  “But you weren’t a hot mess. Knox, I don’t know where you got that idea. Cady and her friends envied your sense of style. It killed her that you owned Robert so completely that she could strip naked and still not get his attention.”

  “What now? Who stripped naked?”

  “Remember that night you told me to go find Robert?”

  “I remember a hundred of those nights. Which one?”

  “You might’ve asked me a hundred times, but I only went once. I found him at Kevin Bowman’s house. He was having one of his usual parties, the whole place jammed with people, everyone wasted. Robert was there. Of course, he was the life of the party. And Cady was grinding on him.”

  “And he let her?” A prickly heat spread through her. She’d always believed Robert had been true to her. “When was this?”

  “Beginning of senior year. She had her hands all over him, whispering in his ear.”

  “And you just stood there and watched him cheat on me?”

  “How many times did you ask me if he was fucking around on you? You had no idea what he did when he was wasted, and I was sick of hearing about it, so I let it play out. To see what he did. Anyway, something she said got his interest, so he followed her into the room off the kitchen. I saw her dig around in her purse and hand him something.”

  “What a bitch. She gave him drugs just so she could be with him?”

  “Yep, and he didn’t even look at it, just popped it in his mouth. Then, she pushed him back onto the couch and straddled him. Pulled off her top and bra.”

  “You never told me this. I can’t believe it. Why would you not tell me?”

  He held up a finger. Hang on. “I got my answer, and I knew if I didn’t leave right then I’d smash my fist in his face, so I turned to go. But then I heard him say, ‘Ya done yet?’ And she goes, ‘Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.’” Gray raised his voice to sound like a lusty woman.

  “Cheesy.”

  “And Robert said, ‘Good, now finish by yourself.’ He got up and knocked her on her ass and said, ‘You think I’d touch you when I have Knox? You’re out of your fucking mind.’”

  “He said that?”

  His smile faltered, and he seemed to search for something in her eyes. “I never went looking for him again. He never cheated on you.”

  Knox closed her eyes, doing a full body scan for any residual emotion where Robert was concerned. Nothing. “I was so messed up. My obsession with him…God. I wanted so desperately for him to be normal. I wanted him…”

  “To be there for you, like he used to be.”

  “I thought I could save him, and it made me a hot mess. It’s just…my circumstances were so different from yours, you know? In my mind, it wasn’t even a possibility that you could be attracted to someone like me.”

  “Well, hopefully that kiss cleared it up for you, because I’m still attracted to you, Knox, and I’m not going to bullshit you about it. The question is…” He trailed his fingertips along the inside of her forearm. “Are you attracted to me?”

  Goosebumps exploded along her arm, racing up to her neck, and cascading down her body, but she wouldn’t let Mr. Smugness see. “Please. We’re pals, nothing more.” But he wasn’t stupid. He had to hear the tremor in her voice.

  “Hm. Interesting.” He leaned over, looking into her eyes. “I had no idea your eyes were black. Oh, wait. They’re dilated.” He gently brushed his fingers over her collarbone, his thumb teasing her pebbled skin. “Are you…attracted to me?”

  She squeezed her thighs together. “I mean, you’re okay and everything, but…” Her expression said, Meh.

  “That right?” He shifted closer—but not quite touching.

  His body heat, his scent, that intense look in his eyes…God. She tried to act nonplussed, but it didn’t work. Heat rushed up her neck, and desire pulsed between her legs.

  “Let’s test it. If you’re not attracted to me, this won’t take but a minute.” He lowered his face into the crook of her neck. “Do me a quick favor? Inhale. Real deep. Get a lungful of my pheromones.”

  “Shut up.” She tried to push him, but he was solid as granite.

  “I just want to see if my scent works for you. Go on, breathe me in.”

  “You’re such an idiot. Get off me.”

  He lifted his head, bringing his mouth right to her cheek. “I’m conducting an experiment, and I’m going to need you to stay very still. Quit squirming.” His lips brushed across her cheek—barely touching—until he reached her jaw line. Then, he glanced up at her. “Okay, that’s fascinating. I’d hoped for some pink, but you’re beet red. That’s way beyond blushing, sugar buns.”

  “Okay, we’re done here.”

  “Not yet.” He gently cupped her jaw. “There’s one last study.” The moment their gazes met, the mischief turned into pure, unadulterated lust. “This is the one that counts.” He brought his mouth over hers and kissed her.

  Everything inside her turn
ed creamy and hot. She wanted to slide her hands through all that thick, unruly hair, wanted to feel his hard, muscled body on top of hers.

  But fear had a grip on her. It’s Gray. She didn’t want to know such extreme pleasure, get attached to a man who thrilled her, comforted her, wanted her, and then watch him walk away.

  They didn’t have a future. Anyone could see that. What would happen after he left for his first competition? Got back into his familiar world of traveling from one country to another, one event to another?

  She could have one night with him, maybe two. Three, four, what did it matter? Her heart and soul would get engaged, and then he’d be gone.

  Gray pulled away, the pad of his thumb on her mouth, looking utterly crestfallen. “It’s okay.”

  What’s okay?

  “I was just messing with you.” He started to roll away from her, and she realized she’d zoned out, let her fears stand on the mountain of her insecurities and plant a victory flag.

  She grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back. His big, hard body fell half on top of her. God, did it feel good. More. Her hands threaded through his hair. “Gray.”

  That was all it took to unleash him, just the sound of his name drenched in urgency and need. His mouth opened over hers, and he licked inside, his big hand clamping down on her hip and drawing her closer. He kissed with such fervor, she got swept away, the undertow so powerful it drowned her insecurities. She clutched his broad, powerful back. He feels so good.

  His hand slid underneath her, caressing down to her bottom and then squeezing with such lust she literally writhed against him.

  How had she ever thought he lacked passion? Holy smokes did he have it—and what a heady feeling knowing he had it for her.

  When he cupped her breast, sensation burst so high and bright it actually hurt. She needed him, needed more. And he gave it to her. His hand slipped under her blouse, his palm splayed flat on her belly, and he caressed up her ribcage, mindless of the buttons that ripped free of their bindings and flew off.

  Shifting her onto her back, his big body loomed over her. He lowered the edge of her lacy bra and closed his mouth over her nipple. Electricity ripped through her, making her arch off the trampoline. He sucked hard, tongue lashing. When she crashed back down, she hitched her leg over his hips, drawing him down to connect the parts of their bodies that were made to join. His tongue pulled, flicked, and she grabbed fistfuls of his hair, holding him to her.