“This isn’t what it looks like, Cade, not at all. What about you and Rebecca? I heard there was some heat there. You know the game.”
I bark out a harsh laugh. “Fuck you, Marv. You don’t know shit. Stone’s my co-worker. Savannah is your employee. Big fucking difference.”
I open the door a bit wider when I hear the familiar female voice that seems to be talking to someone on the phone.
Marv starts, his eyes darting past me into the hallway. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? We don’t need anymore disruptions at the station.”
“Oh, I have to disagree.” My smile is tight.
One part of me is pissed as hell, knowing I’ve just exposed the entire reason Savannah got the anchor job in the first place. The other side of me is fucking thrilled.
Blocking the exit in case he decides to run, I call over my shoulder. “Vicky? That you?”
“Yeah?” Her voice is questioning. I assume she’s staring at my back and wondering why I won’t turn around. “What’s going on? You find a big hairy spider?”
I shrug. “You could say that.”
Her steps increase. “Let me have a look. I might need to go get my flyswatter . . .” Her voice stops as she reaches me and gasps. With wide eyes, she sputters, obviously struggling to find words.
Marv flounders around, still trying to get his belt latched, and Savannah is scrambling to tuck her boobs in her bra. But it’s too late. It’s plain as day what’s happening here.
Disbelief combined with a dawning realization settles on her face. “You and Savannah? At work?” Her voice rises, shock morphing into anger. “Do you have any idea what the board will say?”
I chuckle and look at Vicky. “Oh, I have a really good idea what the board will say, and I’m heading up there right now to hear it.” I salute Marv and smirk. “Good riddance, Marv.”
I turn and do a little dance as I head toward the elevators.
Rebecca
I’M CURLED UP on the couch with all our soft pillows around me when my phone starts buzzing and vibrating on the end table. It’s so obnoxious, it’s impossible to ignore, and I vaguely recall it’s intentional so I won’t miss important calls.
Pushing out of my cozy nest, I try to think who would be calling me at this hour. My mind skitters over the last few days. Chas and I went out Friday night . . . I’d seen Cade and proceeded to drink all the alcohol in Houston before crying myself to sleep . . . Saturday morning, I’d looked like death warmed over and sent a text to Tommy saying I had the stomach flu . . . I’d stayed curled up right here all day yesterday while Chas fed me tacos and made me watch Co-ed Call Girl with her (another classic!) . . .
This morning I’d gotten up determined to shake off the past and be the strong, independent woman I am. I’d spent the day dodging balloons and singing the praises of five-point safety inspections and certified used cars, before coming back here to collapse on the couch. Without even looking, I grab my phone.
“Hello?” I say, trying to hide the fact I just woke up.
“Are you asleep?” The rich male voice vibrates through the line, and every nerve in my body simmers to life.
“Cade,” I stammer. “Why are you calling me?”
“Are you sick?” The touch of sternness in his voice has my panties hot.
With a sniff, I fight for control. “It depends on what you mean by sick. Am I sick of the hypocrisy? Am I sick of the double standard? Am I sick of doing my best and being treated like—”
“Are you going to Manhattan?”
“I haven’t decided.” I slide back down into my multitude of pillows, my phone at my cheek, wondering why I haven’t called New York. Why am I hesitating? It’s the chance of a lifetime . . .
“Look, Stone, I’ve been thinking about you for two days. The way Marv treated you was shitty, and it pissed me off. But running away isn’t like you either. You’re a fighter.”
He’s been thinking about me? I refuse to acknowledge the flutters in my stomach at the idea. “I would hardly characterize a job interview in Manhattan as running away.”
“Do you have plans for dinner?”
My brow crinkles as I try to register what he’s saying. “No . . .”
“I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll discuss it over dinner—before I have to be back at the station for ten.”
“I didn’t say yes!”
“Seven.”
The line goes dead, and I hold my phone in front of me a few seconds staring at the screen. It’s six o’clock. Holy shit, he’ll be here in an hour! I kick my way out of faux mink and satin coverlets. Glancing down, I realize I need to do a little personal grooming . . . all over actually. My hair’s a rat’s nest; I slept in my makeup. Gross! I wouldn’t even date myself in this condition.
A little less than an hour later, I’m pulling up my zipper when a strong, insistent knock sounds on the door.
“You’re early!” I shout, giving the clock a quick glance. It’s only six fifty.
“I came here from . . . work.” The last word is right in my face.
Cade fills my doorway. His dark-brown hair is slightly mussed, and his blue eyes are as intense as ever. My insides sizzle. Pulling the door open causes him to lean forward slightly, and as if from muscle memory, everything in me draws right to him.
Clearing my throat, I take a step away. “It’s a good thing I’m ready, or you’d be waiting in the hall.”
“Is that so?” A sly grin curves his lips. It’s too much.
Turning on my heel, I step into the kitchen to retrieve my purse. “As a matter of fact, it is.”
“Where’s Chas?” He steps inside, looking around in the direction of our bedrooms and back to me.
Every single bit of this is triggering images of all the ways we touched and kissed and fucked all those weeks ago right here in this apartment, and I have to bite back a sigh.
“Chas is actually meeting with a retail executive about launching a makeup line.”
“Wow!”
“I know . . . Are you ready?”
Cade pushes an elbow toward me. “Do you like the Flying Saucer?”
I do a little shrug. “It’s one of Chas and my favorite places to eat when we need to catch up.”
“Perfect. I’ll buy you a beer.”
We step into the enormous wood and linoleum space. It’s a former department store, and old china plates cover the walls between bicycles and gold paper star lanterns.
A waiter is right with us. “We’ll each have a Stone IPA,” Cade says, and I shake my head.
“It’s what you always get, right?”
“I’ve never had it,” I confess.
“What?” He narrows his eyes at me before returning to the waitress. “And two Space Club sandwiches.”
“Another first,” I say.
“Stone.” His voice is grave. “Don’t tell me I have to start ordering for you.”
It’s quiet a beat, and I’ve reached my limit. “What’s going on, Cade?”
A guy hurries up and places two pint glasses in front of us. We both take a moment to sip the bitter, slightly hoppy pilsner.
“That’s good,” Cade says, leaning back and running his palms down the tops of his thighs.
I nod in agreement then sit back as well, doing my best not to let my eyes follow those hands up his thighs to what I know is hidden in his slacks.
“Let’s put our past aside for just a moment,” he says, blue eyes assessing me. “Can you do that?”
I do a little frown and put on my professional mask. “Of course.”
“I like to think we’ve always had something of a . . . healthy working relationship, wouldn’t you say?”
“We’re not on the same beat. You’re sports. I’m hard news.”
He pauses a moment, his perfect lips twitching. “Hard news?”
“Okay,” I confess. “I drifted into features at the end there—”
“Marv sent you nothing but features, you mean.” I don’t
miss the anger that enters his tone.
All of this is getting to be too much. First, we had the most glorious three weeks of my life followed by the most hellish three weeks. I’m on the cusp of leaving this nightmare, and he shows up out of the blue saying all these things.
“What’s your point, Cade?”
“You’re too good—and too smart and beautiful—to leave Houston. It’s your home. It’s where you’ve built your reputation. You belong here.”
I shrug and lift my glass. “Life doesn’t always go the way it should.”
“Marv was screwing Savannah. It’s why she got the anchor job instead of you. I told the board, and they fired him on the spot for sexual misconduct with a subordinate.”
He catches me mid-sip, and I almost snort pilsner up my nose. “What!?” I slam the pint glass down on the polished wood table.
“It happened pretty fast today after I caught them in the supply closet. They made Vicky news director, and we both want you back . . . We want you beside me at the anchor desk.”
“Beside you? But what about Lorie?”
“She asked to have the weekend position—she wants to be a stay-at-home mom.”
For a few moments, I can only blink at him. My mouth is slightly open, and I don’t even care.
“But . . . Wha . . .” Clearly, I’m having trouble speaking as well as thinking. “What about New York?”
The muscle in his jaw clenches attractively. “Do you want to go to New York?”
Quiet falls over the table. The waitress has put our sandwiches in front of us, but my throat is closed. I couldn’t eat a thing if I tried. Cade slips his arm across the top of the table, reaching his hand to me.
“We hoped you might consider staying. KHOT is your family . . . We love you.”
All the air leaves my lungs, and I can barely say the words. “We?” It’s a whisper, and my eyes flicker up to his dark blue ones.
The air around us is tight. It crackles with electricity, and I slip off my stool. It’s there in the way he says my name, but everything is crowding together in my mind—my goals, my dreams, my future . . . the chance of a lifetime.
“I have to go. I’m sorry.”
“Stone . . .”
Shaking my head, I hurry to the door and out to the sidewalk. I have to think, and I can’t with him right in front of me. I’m hastily pulling up the Uber app as I walk, not sure where I want to go . . . I don’t want to go home. Where can I go to think?
Nearby attractions pop up, and I hit the bottom one without even reading the description. A car is less than a minute from me, and I pause at the corner.
The Waterwall is an enormous, curved fountain, sixty-four feet tall at the back of a quiet park in Uptown. Even at this time of night on a Monday, tourists and visitors mill around, looking up at the thousands of gallons of water roaring past in a constant, hypnotic force.
I stand in front of it as cascade upon cascade crashes onto the concrete steps, sending a faint, chlorine-scented mist into the atmosphere around us. Everything in my life is racing at me so fast like these columns of water. I feel out of control. I don’t know the right choice.
Back at my apartment is a letter, an opportunity that would change everything.
Back at the restaurant—or I guess back at KHOT now—is something different, someone I never saw coming, someone who would change everything as well.
“Cade . . .” I whisper, thinking of the unspoken words hanging heavy between us.
He fought for me. He busted Marv and fought for me. Vicky helped him . . .
We love you . . .
“Rebecca Fieldstone!” The small voice jerks me from my confusion.
I turn to see a pint-sized princess, complete with aquamarine mermaid skirt and trident flouncing toward me.
“Petal?”
“I thought that was you.” She holds out a small hand, and I shake it.
“You’re Ariel.” I study her costume and thinking of happier times, quinoa salads.
“I was over there doing promo for Disney on Ice. It’s part of my duties as Planetary Princess.”
“Oh.” We watch the fountain a moment before she turns back to me. “I’ve seen you on those car commercials. I thought you were a journalist.”
Exhaling a laugh, I shake my head. “I did, too.”
Her chubby face scrunches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I look up at the falling water and think about it. “I worked really hard for something for a long, long time . . . It was my dream, and someone else got it. So I left.”
“And now you’re doing commercials? With the used car king?” The astonishment in her voice makes me defensive.
“I’m considering a move to New York . . . to be a reporter again.” I think about the chance I thought had passed me by, and the last guy I ever expected to help me achieve it. “Or I could stay here and have my dream.”
“Diane Sawyer is one of my role models. After she won America’s Junior Miss in 1963, she went on to become the highest paid female anchor in television history.”
“I know,” I say, nodding.
“She said ‘The dream is not the destination, but the journey.’”
The roar of water fills the pause, and I look up, thinking about all of it. The dream, the destination, the little mermaid . . . We love you. “I wanted to conquer the world.”
“What good is that if you’re alone?” Glancing down, my eyes meet clear blue ones, shining up at me from beneath a helmet of red hair topped with an iridescent tiara. “You remind me of Mrs. Sawyer. What are you going to do?”
Like a star burning in the night, the answer shines through the darkness. I bend down and give her a hug. “Thank you, Petal. I’ve got to go.”
Turning, I tap the Uber app as I jog all the way to the entrance to the park. I’m breathless when the car meets me, and I’m pushing my feet against the floorboard, my hands gripping my knees the entire drive to the center of downtown.
Less than ten minutes later, I’m standing in the lobby of the luxury high-rise apartment building, pressing the button for the penthouse. Glancing up, I can see the security cameras trained on me. It’s after eleven, so I’m pretty confident he’s home.
Not a sound comes through the intercom, but the light flickers on above the shiny silver doors. My heart beats faster as the numbers slowly count down, as the elevator descends to the first floor and pauses with a ding. Another pause, a swift whoosh of air, and everything stops. My breath disappears.
Cade leans against the wall just inside. A smile curves his sexy lips, and he has one hand in his pocket.
“Hello, Stone,” he says in that low, luscious rumble.
“Hi,” I manage to answer.
“What are you doing here?” Steel blue eyes hold me captive.
“I-I wanted to say this in person.”
“Did you think about my offer?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I’d be an idiot to say no,” I say with a shrug.
“That’s my girl.” He reaches out, and I take two stumbling steps forward as he pulls me close against his firm torso. My palms are on his chest, his arm is tight around my waist, and everything around us seems to fade away. “Let’s have a toast to the future.”
To dreams coming true in the most out-of-this-world way, I think as our lips collide.
THREE HOURS LATER . . .
“Yes! Right there!” I cry, gripping the headboard, my breasts bouncing as my hair flies forward on my cheeks.
Cade reaches forward to pinch my tight nipple, rolling it in his fingers, and my insides clench. “Fuck,” he groans.
He’s behind me, his massive dick hammering so deep into my pussy, my back arches involuntarily. I’m holding on for dear life, bucking against him like I never want it to end. His hand moves to my clit, and I’m on the edge, a hairsbreadth from falling over into sweet, sweet bliss.
All at once, his fingers leave me and SMACK! he slaps my
ass hard. I jump and gasp. The stinging mixed with the intense pleasure causes my insides to clench around has cock again.
“You love that.” He growls and SMACK! he slaps my ass again. “How about this?” His thumb pads at the small pucker of my ass before slipping inside, and . . .
“Oh shit!” I wail as the orgasm rips through my body.
My elbows give out, and I collapse forward on the bed, boneless as the shudders ripple through me.
Cade grips my hipbones, jerking me up against his still-hard cock. He’s driving deeper, chasing his own orgasm, and I’m moaning, trying to catch my breath. It’s penetrating and punishing and so fucking sexy. His hardness stabs and withdraws from my clenching insides as they desperately try to hold onto him, milk his orgasm, when at last he breaks with a shout. It’s deep and strong, and he holds me flush against his body.
I feel his dick pulsing as he fills the condom. I finally return to Earth, and I arch up, slowly rising to press my back against his chest and wrap my hands around his neck. I tilt my face, and our lips crash gently again and again. His hands cup my breasts and I sigh, slipping my tongue out to touch the salty dampness of his skin.
“That’s what I call a touchdown,” I purr.
His body vibrates as he chuckles, and his arm goes around my waist. “A touchdown in the last seconds of a tied game headed to overtime against our fiercest rival.”
That makes me laugh, and he kisses my shoulder before giving it a little bite. Another pulse moves through my core. He groans in my ear, “Yes.”
I sigh just before placing my teeth against his jaw and biting him back. He holds me tight against his chest as he slides us down onto the mattress. We’re wrapped in dark navy sheets in his very masculine bedroom.
“Are you going to remember any of this tomorrow?” he says, kissing the back of my neck, right at the center of my shoulders.
A shiver passes through me, and I laugh, remembering the celebratory Fireball shots he poured for each of us. “I only did half a shot, and it was only because you made me.”
“It was for old times’ sake.” His lips are at the top of my head, and I tighten my arm over his. “Fuck shots. I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”
The Last Guy Page 20
