by Joan Kilby
“Not coming? Fine. Lock up when you do.” He tossed the keys on the seat and headed to the lobby.
Cassy decided to wait for ten minutes before following him upstairs. She didn’t relish the idea of sharing the small elevator when they were both so angry. She rested her head against the window and shut her eyes, unutterably weary. This had been one hell of a weekend, up and down like a roller coaster. She wanted only what was good for Scott, and in her mind that meant accepting the business deal with Ian. At the same time she knew that being abandoned by his father wasn’t something he could just forget and sweep under the carpet. But if he was ever going to overcome those issues he had to confront and deal with them. How was she going to make him see that?
When she finally entered the penthouse, Scott was staring out the plate-glass windows, his brooding countenance as black as the squalls gathering on the stormy horizon ready to roll over the city. She went to her bedroom and shut the door. Wearily, she stripped down and stepped into the shower, hoping a blast of hot water would revive her. She’d been through the wringer, physically, mentally, and emotionally.
She hated fighting with Scott. It was wrong. They were a team. They should work together. She shouldn’t have lied to him. She didn’t know why she’d done that except that she had thought she knew better than he did what was good for him. In her defense, the stakes were higher than anything they’d encountered before. Even if Scott didn’t admit it, she knew the rift with his father affected him deeply. Shouldn’t a friend do everything she could to rectify that?
Our future children should know their grandfather.
Huh? When had she started thinking like a potential wife? Their fake engagement aside, marriage and children weren’t even on Scott’s radar.
She wanted those things, though, and she wanted them with Scott. Friendship wasn’t enough anymore, if it ever had been. For as long as she could remember, he’d been the only one for her. It wasn’t a coincidence that none of her other relationships had lasted. All her life, she had been waiting for Scott. It was as clear as day. How had she never realized?
She rested her head against the tiled wall of the shower. This was crazy. Their relationship had become too complicated. She hardly knew what they were to each other anymore. One thing, however, was crystal clear. She wanted nothing but the best for Scott, whether he was her friend, boss, lover, or someday, maybe her husband.
But for now she had to set her own needs aside and make up with him. Because when they were on the outs with each other, neither of them was happy. Right now, Scott needed her to be a friend more than he needed her to be a pissed-off lover.
She dried off and wrapped herself in the silk dressing gown she had bought for the weekend. In his present mood, she doubted he would even notice.
He was still gazing out the window, with his arms crossed and his head sunk to his chest. The heavy dark clouds had burst and now the mountains and the high points of the shoreline were obscured by the rain that pelted the city.
Her bare feet silent on the plush carpet, Cassy came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.”
One large, warm hand moved to cover hers, tentatively at first, then with a comforting pressure. “I was a jerk.”
“Well, yes, you were. But I understand. Sort of.” She laid her head on his back and closed her eyes. Thank God he wasn’t still angry. A tear escaped and soaked into his shirt. Nothing could ever be allowed to interfere with their friendship. She simply couldn’t bear it.
Scott turned and took her into his arms, resting his chin next to her temple. Cassy listened to the quiet thud of his heart and the soft sigh of his breath through her damp hair. Gusts of rain pattered against the window. The wall clock ticked quietly. She could have stayed like that forever, enclosed in his warm embrace, soaking up the deep comfort and affection of the man who knew her better than anyone on earth.
Then he shifted his stance and his hold, easing back to press soft kisses across her temple, along her cheekbone, her eyes and forehead. He moved his hands over her, stroking her through the thin silk of her dressing gown, creating a melting heat wherever he touched. Within seconds, his embrace went from comforting to arousing.
Cassy slid her arms around his neck, feeling his need as an urgent, edgy desire, tinged with yearning and tenderness and angst. She kissed his jaw and neck, anywhere she could reach, eager to absorb his pain and sadness and to give back pleasure and love.
He pulled open the ties on her dressing gown and let the soft fabric fall away, revealing her naked body to his hungry gaze. As he cupped her breasts, his eyes squeezed shut. A swallow moved his throat. Then he opened his eyes to look straight into hers. She caught her breath at the wildness and the pain, as if he were lost in the deepest, darkest part of the forest and was crying out to be found.
“Come here,” she whispered. “Come to me.”
He stood motionless while she undid his shirt buttons and pushed the garment off his shoulders. He shivered in the sudden cool and she moved closer to hug him, pressing her bare breasts against his chest. Heat flared, caught like a wildfire, and spread, swelling and moistening her sex. Her fingers trembled as she unzipped his pants and peeled them back. His erection jutted out and jumped when it touched her belly.
Scott groaned and pulled her to him, grinding into her, inflaming her. He teased her lips open with his tongue and stroked deep, filling her mouth with heat and moisture. His hands trembling, he dragged her dressing gown off and tossed it aside before stepping out of his jeans, leaving them both fully unclothed in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was dusk and there were no lights on in the penthouse, so they wouldn’t be visible unless a telescope was trained on the apartment. Nevertheless, standing naked in full view of the outside world left her feeling vulnerable and exposed.
And daring.
“Cassy,” he breathed, moving his hands all over her. “What would I do without you? Don’t ever go away.”
His words echoed exactly what she’d been thinking earlier, reinforcing how important they were to each other. Their relationship transcended friendship and love and was bigger, and better, than both of them. “Not going to happen.”
She pulled him close again, sliding a leg around his hip, working herself closer as if they could meld and become one. His biceps bulged as he hoisted her up. With a gasp, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m too heavy for you to hold me like this.”
“You’re featherlight.” One hand splayed across her butt, he used his other hand to push the head of his cock into her entrance. Then he maneuvered her so that he went deeper as he kissed her and massaged her breast with his free hand.
Cassy wriggled, tensing her thigh muscles, needing the friction of him thrusting inside her. Having him filling and stretching her without being able to move, without being able to make the pleasurable sensations flooding her grow, was delicious agony. “You’re driving me crazy,” she said against his mouth.
“Only what you deserve.” He carried her to the window and pressed her up against the thick pane of glass. It was cold on her back, a sharp contrast to the heat along her front.
She tried to look over her shoulder through the rain and got a stomach-curdling glimpse of the street fifty floors below. “Oh my God. Is this safe? What if we crash through?”
“We won’t, I promise.” He gave a solid thrust that sent a wave of pleasure spiraling through her and made Cassy forget all about her fear of falling. “The glass isn’t too cold, is it?”
“No.” She clung to his shoulders. “I think we’re heating up the outside.”
“Is it too hard?” He was getting into a rhythm now with long, sure strokes that moved her up and down and made her skin squeak as it slid against the windowpane.
“You’re harder,” she panted. “All I can feel is you.” His cock in her wet heat, his tongue on her neck, his hands all over her body. One thumb was pressing with just the right amount of pressure on her clitoris. She w
as limp and pliable, supported entirely by a sheet of glass and his thrusting hips.
“Too scary?” He shifted, changed his rhythm. His face was close, his features blurred, his beard shadowing his jaw, the scent of the rain and forest still on his skin and in his hair from that morning’s ride. Or maybe she was imagining that.
“A—little—late—to—ask. But no.” Amazingly, she felt completely safe supported by his strong arms. Safe and secure and… Oh, dear God… She gave a cry as he hit her sweet spots, inside and outside, simultaneously. She felt as if the impossible had happened and the glass had shattered, leaving her tumbling in free fall through steamy, drenching rain.
For a few seconds, she didn’t know where she was except that she was with him so everything was okay. And then Scott came, too, and the moment was complete. The disappointments of the day, the arguments and the worry, all fell away. All that mattered was being together. Forever.
He carried her to the couch and laid her down, then slid in beside her and covered them both with a cashmere throw. Once again, they fell into silence, this time sated and sticky and drowsy. It was perfect.
Finally, Cassy said, “So are we good?”
“We’re always good,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear.
“You know what I mean. About your dad.”
His relaxed hold on her became tense. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“But you need to.” She stroked his arm, trying to make his muscles loosen again. “We’ve been friends almost all our lives but you’ve never told me what you feel about him.”
“Do I really need to? How would you feel if your father dumped you on your aunt and uncle because it was too inconvenient to have you around? He only kept me with him for six months after Mom died, just until he could make arrangements for me to live elsewhere.”
“Why do you see it as him dumping you? Maybe he believed you’d be better off. Your aunt stopped work to stay home and look after you, no doubt with your dad’s financial assistance. Your uncle had a nine-to-five job. They could give you the time he couldn’t with his overseas business trips and long hours. It sounds pretty thoughtful and caring to me.”
“You’re making excuses for him. He didn’t want me, Cassy. There’s no other way of looking at it.”
“I see it another way. I see a man who is a workaholic who might love his son but not have a clue how to take care of him. A man who, once his wife dies, is so bereft that he throws himself even deeper into his work…”
“He took a two-year contract in Hong Kong. His business was more important to him than I was. I meant nothing.”
“That’s the hurt little boy inside you talking. Look, I’m not saying you’re not justified in feeling hurt and angry. In my opinion, he should have kept you with him, no matter what. But you’re making him out to be a monster. He’s not.”
“He could have taken me with him to Hong Kong. People do that.”
“In Bellingham the culture was familiar and you had a normal home life. You’d just lost your mother, after all.”
“And then I lost him, too.”
“He probably thought he was doing the right thing.”
“He could have turned down the job. I saw him exactly twice in three years, both times at Christmas. He came around for a few hours, dropped off expensive gifts, and was gone again.”
“Put yourself in his shoes. If you had the full responsibility of a child, wouldn’t you want to provide him with the best possible future you could, even at great personal sacrifice? Have you thought about how he felt, losing his wife and then feeling he ought to give up his son?”
Scott was silent. His brows were pulled together as if he was giving her words some consideration.
“You, of all people, know what it’s like to work hard to build something, to have the drive to see a project through,” Cassy went on. “Maybe your father feels about his business interests the way you do about the Dreamcatcher.” Still Scott didn’t reply. “Didn’t he ever talk to you, explain what he was doing and why?”
Scott shrugged. “He tried a couple of times. But that was years after he abandoned me. It was too late. Anyway, he was just making excuses.”
“In other words, you pushed him away.” She’d always wondered if there was more to the situation.
“He gave up pretty damn easy.”
“Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he thought he deserved to be pushed away.”
Scott turned to her, shaking his head. “Why are you determined to make excuses for him?”
“Why are you so afraid to let him into your life? He’s your father. Okay, say he did screw up. Say he could have kept you in his life back then. Now he wants to make amends. He wants to build a relationship with you. And he can make your dream happen. Why not let him?”
“I don’t want to be beholden to him.”
“He owes you. Maybe he’s trying to repay the debt.”
Scott sat up abruptly. “So he can dismiss decades of neglect by writing a check? That’s too easy. I’ve gotten where I am without his help. I paid for my own education working nights just so I didn’t have to be obligated to a man I rarely saw and had no feeling for. Am I supposed to cave in now and accept Daddy’s handout so he can say to the world, look at what my son and I have achieved? He doesn’t get to piggyback on my success.”
“He doesn’t need to. He’s a gazillionaire in his own right. What he can give you is the benefit of his experience. You’re not a businessman at heart. He is. You’d be nuts not to take advantage of that. Especially because at the same time, you get to renew your relationship with your closest living family member.” She paused and added more gently. “He’s not getting any younger.”
“He’s only sixty-five, or -six, I’m not sure which. And don’t tell me he’s dying of some incurable disease because I won’t believe it.”
“He’s the picture of health. I checked.”
Scott’s expression remained so stubborn that she wanted to shake him. Hell! They weren’t getting anywhere. She sat up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, and took another tack. “Forget that Ian Thornton is your father. Take an arm’s-length approach. As your friend and business partner…okay, employee…I’m telling you that accepting his offer makes sense. If Lorraine doesn’t come to the party, you’re back to square one with PacTech still breathing down your neck. Give me one good reason, as a businessman, why you won’t accept his offer.”
“He wants to restructure and expand the company.”
“He’s right about that and you know it. Try again.”
“I’m hungry,” Scott said suddenly and started to get up. “It’s almost eight o’clock and we haven’t had dinner.”
Cassy pushed him back down. “Tell me what’s really bugging you and I’ll let you eat.”
“Oh, you’re going to get rough, are you?” He tickled the delicate skin beneath her upper arm. “You’re a cream puff.”
“Stop it.” She squirmed out of his reach, biting down on a laugh and refusing to let him change the subject. “Come on, Scott. What is it you’re afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” He sighed and kneaded the back of his neck above his sagging shoulders. “But you’re right, I’m not a businessman at heart. All I really want is to work on projects that interest me, ride my bike on the weekend, and make love to you. Not necessarily in that order.”
She was relieved to hear she was among his top three priorities. But that very relief was upsetting in itself. She’d never questioned her place in his life before. They’d always been best friends, forever. Now the way they saw each other had changed. Girlfriends come and girlfriends go, he’d always said. Now, as his girlfriend, her presence in his life must be finite. She’d thought after they first had sex that he was giving her the brush-off. Even though they were still together she kept waiting for him to say, This isn’t working after all. Sorry. The fact that he hadn’t said it yet meant nothing. It was only a matter of time. What would happen wh
en the romance ended? Could they go back to being friends? No, she doubted it. Having had a taste of a complete relationship with him she would find it too painful to go back to less.
“No, you were right,” she said. “You’ll grow into your responsibilities.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Then it’s simple. You hire someone you trust who can manage the business side of things. Your father, or someone of his choosing.”
“I don’t know. I don’t trust him.” His voice broke and before he glanced away she glimpsed a hard, bleak pain in his eyes.
Finally, she got it. No matter what the rational adult Scott knew or was told, the emotional truth was ingrained in him, deep and strong. When he was a child, when he had just lost his mother and needed his father, Ian had gone away.
Her heart heavy, she put her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “Maybe Lorraine will come through.”
…
Scott woke in the night to darkness so dense he couldn’t make out any shapes in the room. Rain pounded on the windows and the roof. His heart pounded in his chest as if he’d run ten miles. Or woken from a nightmare. Cassy lay beside him, fast asleep, her breathing deep and even. The digital readout on the clock was blank. The power was out.
He got out of bed and padded out to the living room. No lights were shining in this part of the city and the blackness was thick and tangible, magnifying the rumble of thunder and the lashing of rain. He navigated by touch around the couch, barely able to tell where his apartment ended and the stormy night began.
He stubbed his little toe against something hard and unforgiving. As he rubbed it against his calf, sheet lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the room with sudden clarity and throwing the sharp edge of the dining table into relief.
He made his way to the window and placed his hands and forehead on the glass. It was cold and damp with condensation.
Cassy was right—he was afraid. He, who careered down mountainsides at sixty-degree angles on two wheels. Who six years ago had sold his car to pay for his first office rental. Who had quit a secure job with a nanotechnology research unit at the university to set up business on his own, with only five hundred dollars in the bank.
