When I'm with You (Hope Town #3)

by Harper Sloan

  The first thing I did, before calling her, was go through the blank canvases that are stored in my guest room to find the one. I remember when I bought the six-foot-by-four-foot canvas; I never thought I would find something to put on it, until last night.

  Placing the canvas so that it’s horizontal on my easel, having to adjust the custom-made brackets in order to hold the monster, I instantly pick up my brush and drop it into the gray paint.

  It isn’t long before the music, my mind, and my arm against the canvas are synced together in a beautiful dance. Each stroke is made without thought; each dip into the paint is made without looking away from the swirling arches and twists of black, gray, and white paint.

  Never have I created something that wasn’t full of color, full of life. All of my paintings are known for being vibrant and as lifelike as a picture. But not this one. This one is as abstract as it gets.

  My timer goes off, and I step back to look at the work that has held me captive for the last five hours. I take a deep breath and move from one side of the canvas to the other, taking in the unfinished work. I’m surprised that I managed to get as much as I had done today, but really, I shouldn’t be. It’s been a long time since I was that captive in my zone.

  I make quick work of cleaning up my supplies and moving the unused paint mixtures to the pods that will keep them fresh until I can return to my work tomorrow. I ignore the grumble in my stomach as I drop down on the couch with a heavy sigh and give in to the exhaustion that I’ve been pushing off.

  My dreams are full of the black, gray, and white world I just knew would be my best piece of art to date.

  “What?” I ask around a mouthful of pizza.

  My sister just continues to look at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Seriously, what is your problem?” I snap, dropping the crust after tearing off the last delicious bite.

  “Dad is going to shit his pants when he sees your head,” she tells me, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Yeah? And how is he going to find out unless someone opens her big fat mouth to tell him?”

  “You two annoy the shit out of me,” Stella bluntly states, causing my sister to snap her eyes over to where she is finishing Dani’s hair. “I’m so happy that my dad didn’t have more kids. I could never handle that crap.”

  Dani laughs, earning a scowl from Stella when her head moves too much. “Just imagine having to deal with a miniature version of my dad as a brother!”

  “Yeah, no. No way in hell I could handle that shit,” Stella continues, curling another long piece of Dani’s hair around her flat iron.

  “You have it all wrong, Stel.” Lyn laughs. “There is no way a sibling could have handled you!”

  Everyone laughs, and Stella just shrugs, sprays another lock of Dani’s hair with hairspray, and continues without disagreeing.

  “He’s going to find out,” my sister continues as if she hadn’t just been interrupted.

  “Shut up.” I groan and move to walk into my living room where the rest of the girls are hanging out in various forms of readiness.

  Dani and Stella had been doing everyone’s hair since the moment they all arrived two hours ago; now, the only two left are the both of them. My hair had been first and the beginning of my sister’s annoying chatter about my dad potentially freaking out. The second Dani moved the shorter hair that always brushes over the side of my forehead and got a look at the now yellow and green bruising, she hadn’t stopped.

  I can hear her muttering under her breath as she moves around the kitchen to clean up the last of our group’s dinner mess, but she wisely stops giving me a bunch of what my dad refers to as our ‘sass.’

  Megan and Lila are talking softly on my loveseat, and judging by the way she keeps turning her phone in Lila’s direction, I’m assuming she is showing off pictures of her newborn son, Jack.

  They’re both wearing black dresses, but where Lila’s is on the shorter end of slutty, Megan’s is not. Megan’s is a beautiful shirtsleeve dress that hits her right in the middle of her thighs. Loose in the skirt and hiding what she refers to as her stubborn baby weight.

  Lila’s is sleeveless, but with thick straps and a deep neckline that shows off her cleavage impressively. And where Megan’s is loose, Lila’s is skintight and hits her just under her bottom.

  Nikki, Lyn, Dani, and Stella are in similar dresses as Lila’s, each a little different from the other but all black.

  “We look like we’re going to a funeral,” I mumble before attempting to sit on the couch next to Nikki. But before my bottom hits the cushion, she is pushing against my back and shoving me forward. “What the hell, Nik!”

  “You need to go get dressed!” she snaps.

  “She’s right,” my sister says, coming in the room. “You’re the last one!”

  She pulls me forward and down to my bedroom. When the light snaps on, illuminating what has been laid out on the bed waiting for me like a snake ready to strike, I feel my stomach start flipping nervously.

  “Uh,” I start.

  “Nope. No. No way in hell,” my sister starts to fuss. “You will put that on and freaking like it.”

  “That,” I say, pointing to the blood-red fabric on my bed, my voice getting a little manic as I continue, “is not a dress. That looks like something a toddler would wear.”

  “It’s stretchy,” she tells me as if that’s all that matters. She starts to unbutton the shirt that I had put on over my strapless bra earlier and I slap her hands away.

  “I’m not wearing that,” I screech.

  “Yes, you are,” I hear behind me and turn toward the doorway to see Stella. “My pops spent a ridiculous amount of time hunting for the perfect birthday outfit for you for as he says hours and hours, darlin’ girl,” she says, mocking her pop’s voice perfectly. “You know what happens when you ignore the advice of that man.” She stands up straight, tosses her long curled hair over her shoulder before continuing in Sway’s voice. “There’s certain times in a woman’s life when she needs to make sure to work the goodness God gave her with no hesitation whatsoever, darling girl. Just flaunt all that beauty and make every man you pass die a little inside because he will just not live another second if he can’t have you. For little Miss Emberlyn, that moment will be tonight, and Sway demands pictures and pictures before you hit the town.” She relaxes her posture instantly and shrugs. “So let’s do this.”

  OPENING NIGHT IS IN FULL swing.

  I’m sweaty and hotter than fucking hell, but the smile on my face hasn’t left for a second since we opened the doors three hours ago. Even before the six o’clock opening time, the line had been so out of control to get in the door that we went ahead and opened up the holding room at almost four in the afternoon. The girls and guys had been working together in perfectly synchronized movements ever since.

  I see Shane the second he starts to climb the stairs to my office, where I’ve been observing the insanity while I cooled off some.

  “Fucking madhouse,” he rumbles with a smile on his face.

  “We did it,” I tell him, not looking away from the packed floor below us. Even the areas that hold the tall tables and beyond are packed with bodies undulating with the pounding bass flowing through the speakers. The house DJ, Thorn, changes the song to another fast-paced tune and throws one arm up and down with the beat. The bodies surrounding his staged-off area begin to move together a little closer. You can tell without being down there that things are getting heated, which isn’t a surprise since each bar has been passing drinks in rapid speed.

  “We didn’t do shit, brother. This is all you.”

  I move to deny his claim, but a flash of color by the entryway into the madness stills the words before they could even leave my lips. I squint my eyes and try to see through the dim lights and smoky air, but the vision was gone so quick I’m almost positive it was just a trick of the lights.

  “Did you see the crowd during the bar dances?” Shane asks, moving to my side
and watching the floor.

  “Insanity.” I laugh, and it had been. Complete insanity. The second the DJ had dropped the bass and cranked up the volume, our boys had sprung into action. The patrons didn’t know what to think at first. All drink orders had been stalled, and instantly, they had their heavily booted feet up on the glossy wood. They pulled back their drinks and the surface was cleared for them. Even I could appreciate the show knowing that it was my brainchild that had held the masses captive and hypnotized as the guys moved like whatever was in front of them was a naked woman ready and willing to be fucked … hard.

  “I think they’re starting to anticipate them now. Every time we inch closer to the top of another hour, drinks start being pulled off the bar before Thorn even has a chance to drop the beat.”

  I nod. “You going to get out there tonight?” I ask him.

  “No clue. Are you?”

  I turn my back to the crowd beyond my window and lean back against the glass. “Depends, my friend. If the mood strikes, maybe. Not sure I see anyone worth getting up there and shaking my ass for anyway.”

  Shane laughs, dropping his hand heavy on my back. “Yeah, something tells me that motivation isn’t going to be an issue for you,” he oddly says and walks back to the doorway. “Let’s go join the party, brother.”

  The second he opens the heavy steel door, the music thumps and pounds through the once silent space. A familiar rush of adrenaline fills my body as we both stalk down the stairs together and into the overheated floor. I see, but ignore, the females around us as they turn and attempt to gain our attention. I continue through the pulsing bodies that litter the massive open space and walk toward the bar.

  “Yo, Nate,” Dent yells over the music, and when I turn my head toward him, he slides a shot down the sleek wooden surface.

  My hand shoots out and grabs the glass right when I hear Logan yell, “Bottoms up.” Without thought, I bring the liquor to my lips. The burn travels down my throat, and when I settle the shot glass back on the bar, Travis is already there with the bottle of tequila in his hand, refilling it instantly.

  I ignore the chick to my right and turn to look around the room. The small smile that had been playing on my lips drops when I see the woman dancing just a few feet in front of me.

  “What the fuck,” I mumble, dropping the once again empty glass down and stalking forward.

  I look around when I lose her in the crowd, but continue to stomp through the crowd to the other side of the club where the other dance floor is moving like one giant wave to the music.

  I see her again and instantly fume.

  “You want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here,” I rumble low in my throat when my head dips down until my mouth is right next to her ear and grab her by her forearm.

  The thin arm is pulled from my grasp when she turns around. I stand back and cross my arms over my chest and wait for her to talk.

  “What is your problem,” she yells over the music.

  “My problem?” I yell at her and bend down so that I don’t have to scream over the noise. “My problem, dear sister, is that you’re in my club dressed like … that,” I tell her and point my finger at her dress. “Does your husband know you’re here?”

  She narrows her eyes and stops dancing to stand up on her toes and get in my fucking face.

  “He sure does and I’ll have you know that he will be here later.”

  I drop my head back and look up at the ceiling. I should have known they wouldn’t stay away. It’s not that I don’t want them here, I do, but not if I have to look out for her while he’s not here.

  “Plus, we’re celebrating,” she yells before dropping down on her impossibly tall heels and dancing again.

  “Celebrating what?”

  Her smile goes all wonky and shit. She looks downright fucking evil.

  “Ember’s birthday, big brother,” she tells me with a pat against my chest before spinning around and vanishing through the thick crowd.

  Ember’s birthday.

  And then it hits me.

  Ember’s twenty-first birthday.

  Fucking shit.

  And if I know my sister and her gang of misfits, she’s up to something a lot bigger than just celebrating. Of all the places they could have ended up tonight, they picked my fucking club knowing damn well that things between Ember and me are one giant mess. Dani isn’t stupid, and since she was the first person I ran into after my chat with Locke the other night, she knows exactly what’s going on between us.

  With a single-minded determination, I start to scan the room for Dani, Ember, or any of the other girls that I’m sure are tagging along for the showdown they’re hoping for.

  Each pass my eyes makes around the room just coils the tension in my gut tighter until I’m determined to find them and kick them out. If I were smart, I would find Shane and make him take care of it … but clearly, I’m not of sound mind because the second my eyes lock on Ember, I know the last thing I’m going to do is let her walk away from me again.

  I feel my cock jump when I see past the group dancing between where I’m standing and she is laughing with the girls around one of the tables just off the dance floor. Then I get my first good look when the definition of living sin meets my eyes.

  “Holy fucking shit,” I breathe out in a rush of words, feeling like I’ve just been punched in the stomach.

  The possessiveness that fires through my body at the vision before me is nothing like I’ve ever felt before. The anger that anyone else in this room is free to look at her slams into my body with a force so strong I almost reach out to steady my footing … almost.

  My feet are moving just as rapidly as my racing heart as I move toward her. Dani, facing my direction, drops her jaw as her eyes widen. I see Stella roll her eyes in a bored way before giving Maddi a nudge and nod in my direction. I don’t look at Ember’s sister long, but I don’t for a second miss the small smile that hits her face when she sees me fuming behind Ember. I pay no attention to the rest of the girls in their group but reach out to spin the little devil in front of me around gently.

  She teeters on her feet, and I glance down with a frown. Each bare inch of her tan legs has me clenching my jaw, but when I see the tall-as-fuck heels on her dainty feet, whatever blood I had left in my brain blasts to my cock. I groan when my eyes travel back up to a dress that shouldn’t be allowed past the bedroom as my balls grow painfully tight.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl.

  Fucking growl. Like a goddamn bear.

  She doesn’t respond, but she also does a shit job at hiding the hurt that flashes in her eyes.

  Shit.

  “Don’t be a jerk,” I hear my sister yell.

  I lift my gaze and narrow them on her. “You had better watch it before your nose is in the corner for a much-needed time the fuck out, Danielle Cage.”

  She rolls her eyes, and I make a mental note to deal with her later, looking back down into Ember’s pissed face.

  “You shouldn’t be here.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I feel regret slamming into me. Fuck yeah, she should be here, my mind keeps screaming over and over. “You don’t belong here,” I continue to speak. I can’t stop the words coming out of my mouth, and I know the second my heart starts to pound at an unnatural speed that I’m fucking up major here.

  “You’re a son of a Bieber’s biscuit!” I hear a drunken screech from my side and look over to see Ember’s best friend, Nikki, reach out to poke me. “Son of a Backstreet Boy,” she oddly screams next and brings her offending finger to her chest to cradle it as her brow furrows in pain.

  Weird girl, that one.

  I take a deep breath to fill my chest with the smoky, raw air around me, before doing what I should have done in the first place. I bend, and before Ember can react, she is over my shoulder and I’m stalking back to the stairs that will lead to my office. My hand splays out against her backside so that the short-as-shit dress she’s wearin
g doesn’t give a view to the room that should be for my eyes only.

  My eyes only? Where the hell did that thought come from?

  I feel her small fists beating on my back, but I ignore her as I climb the stairs, trying my best not to think about the heat of her pussy against the palm of my hand. The second I slam my office door shut, closing us in the room, she launches herself off my shoulder. Luckily for her, I was near the couch, so when she stumbled on those heels, she landed on the soft leather with an oomph.

  “What the hell is your problem, Nathaniel!” she screams, launching herself up to stand and pushing me with both hands against my chest. “You have no right!”

  Taking her tiny wrists in my hands, I bring them down and trap them behind her back. She struggles and my eyes drop to her chest as each heaving breath makes the material drop a little lower.

  “How the fuck is this even staying up,” I fume. Switching my hold so I have both wrists in one hand, I bring up one finger to pick at the thin fabric strap going over her shoulder. My eyes roaming over the exposed skin of her neck as I trail my finger down the thin strap until I hit the deep V exposing the silky smooth skin between her tits. All it would take is one real deep breath and her nipple would be on display.

  “N-nate,” she stutters, and I lift my gaze from the valley of tan skin to look into her eyes. The anger is still there but it has dimmed, and in its place is pure fucking lust.

  “No one should see this much of you. Not one fucking person but me.”

  “I’m not yours,” she fumes, and I can see that the fury is winning over the lust.

  “You’re fucking wrong, babe,” I respond without thought.

  She snaps back and pulls one hand from my hold before I can even process her movement. In the next blink, that same freed hand cracks against my cheek and I feel a red-hot burn.

  “I am not your fucking babe!” she shouts.

  “I’ll give you that one, but only that fucking one, Ember.”

  “I’m not yours, Nate. You had that chance, and you didn’t want it.”