Under Contract

by Jeffe Kennedy

  This time she woke before him, waking him with lightly tracing fingers on his chest. Almost he didn’t want to open his eyes. By the warmth of the room, it was already afternoon, which meant she’d have to leave soon. Ridiculous of him. He opened his eyes to find her leaning up on one elbow and smiling at him. She looked much more rested now, dark eyes sparkling with mischief as she tugged at his chest hair. He covered her hand with his, holding it trapped against his heart.

  “Time for you to go?”

  She nodded. “Almost three o’clock. We slept the day away.”

  “Fair enough, as I don’t think we got more than three or four hours last night.”

  “True enough.” She tugged her hand free. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I thought you might be annoyed if I left without saying goodbye.”

  He turned onto his side as she slid off the bed, aware now that she’d washed up and dressed again, all while he slept like the dead. Unlike him, when he usually wakened at the least stirring.

  “So...” She gave him a little wave. “Bye.”

  “I don’t get a kiss?” His voice sounded rough in his ears, though he’d meant to be teasing.

  She hesitated, but came to him, crawling up onto the bed on her knees. “Just a kiss,” she warned. “I really have to leave.”

  “There is no such thing as just a kiss.” He cupped her neck and turned onto his back, drawing her with him so her lush mouth covered his, fitting perfectly and softening like warmed chocolate in the sun. Her breath sighed into him and he took that in, too.

  Then, with resolved determination, let her go. For today. Time to set into motion a plan to make sure that would change. Getting out of bed, he found some jeans and tugged them on, to walk her to the door. Treat her right.

  “Your birthday is soon. Tuesday.”

  She cast him a sideways glance. “Yes.”

  “Come over that evening. Bring the girls and we’ll have a party.”

  “Ryan, I don’t—”

  “Do you have other plans?”

  She huffed out an impatient sigh. “No. You know I don’t.”

  “Is there a reason you don’t want me to meet your nieces?”

  There was, palpable in the way she occupied herself with digging her car keys out of her purse, but she didn’t want to say so. “Okay, fine. But—all on the up and up, right? No funny business.”

  He nearly laughed, feeling his grin spread as her glare grew more pointed. “Funny business?”

  “You know what I mean!”

  “I do. Just a fun, normal birthday celebration with your beloved wards and the man you’re dating.”

  “Ha to that,” she muttered, then waved a hand in the direction of the library playroom. “You’re going to have to hide some of that stuff, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know. I’ve sanitized for polite company before.”

  He opened the door for her and she stepped out into the bright afternoon sun. Stopping at the first step, she squared her shoulders and turned back to him. “Ryan?”

  “Celestina?”

  “Don’t give me money for today, okay? Any more than you did. Not for the sex.”

  He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t even thought about it yet. Though she was right, that he would have soon enough. “But that’s not fair to—”

  “Just...don’t. Consider it a favor to me.”

  He tried to read her expression, but she’d put on those huge dark sunglasses and he couldn’t quite make out her eyes. He should make it a rule she couldn’t wear them. And that she had to tell him everything she was thinking. Restraining himself, he simply agreed. “All right, I won’t.”

  “Or for the birthday party.”

  Holding on to his temper, he kept his tone even. “Will you explain to me why?”

  “I’m not sure I can. It’s just...important to me. Can we leave it at that?”

  “Of course,” he made himself say. He’d get it out of her later. “Will I see you before Tuesday?”

  Her lips curved. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

  He stood there on the steps, watching her drive off in that wreck of a car. Ridiculous that she hadn’t used some of the money to buy something more reliable. He hated worrying about her driving the damn thing, hated that she had to leave at all. An easy decision to make, there in the bright light of day. She should be here, with him. Whatever that took.

  The afternoon had grown quite warm, with a dryness that hinted of the baking summer to come. The fountain he’d imported from Barcelona needed to be cleaned, its colors dulled by a coating of dust. Maybe they could fill it and have it going for Celestina’s birthday celebration, as a special treat. Appropriate for her and her love of water-informed landscapes.

  They should eat out by the pool, maybe. The girls could bring their swimsuits and they could grill shish kebabs or something. And champagne would be a must—sparkling cider for the girls, but crystal flutes for everyone. At least he could plan for the party while he waited for her to make up her mind about their next encounter.

  What she chose would tell him a great deal about how she truly felt about all he’d done to her. And whether his efforts at making it up to her today had helped.

  You treat her right, you hear?

  “Yes, Mama. I hear you. I’m doing the best I can. You can stay in your grave—no need to haunt me.” Amused at himself for speaking to the empty air, he shook his head, fending off the sense of old sorrow that sifted down like ash from the sky.

  Going back inside, he headed for his office, to get his head back in business again.

  * * *

  “Who is this guy again?” Carly wanted to know. “And why do we have to go to his house—we don’t know him.”

  “His name is Ryan Black and he’s the man I went out with last night.” Quite the euphemism there. “You have to go because he invited you and I said you would. He’d like to meet you.”

  “Maybe we don’t want to meet him,” Carly muttered, poking her spinach salad with a fork.

  “I think it’s already dead, Carls. You don’t have to keep stabbing it,” Josie said.

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Besides,” Josie added, “it’s Antina’s birthday Tuesday. That’s why we’re going. Right?”

  “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  Both girls looked suddenly glum. “Well, it was Mom’s birthday, too.” Carly sighed a little and shoved spinach in her mouth.

  “Yes. It was thoughtless of me to say that—or to ask you to do something frivolous on that day. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” All those birthdays she and Ara had shared—how hadn’t it occurred to her the girls would of course know the day and mark it? That’s why they’d never paid attention to hers. It hurt too much. She’d been so selfish. “I’ll cancel.”

  “Don’t do that.” Josie set her fork down. “Mom’s gone and you’re alive. You deserve a birthday party. We’ll go and it will be fun.” She raised her eyebrows at Carly, who reluctantly nodded.

  “Are you sure? You two really don’t have to. This is my deal.”

  Josie kept staring expectantly at Carly until she glared back. “What? I said I’d go.”

  “We’d love to go, Antina.” Josie assumed a gracious, lady-of-the-manor tone. “Thank you for the invitation.”

  Carly rolled her eyes. “Whatever,” she said under her breath.

  “And we’re excited to meet Ryan.” Josie paused, looking thoughtful. “It’s probably really good that you’re dating again. You haven’t since Uncle Noah bailed.”

  “So, is this, like, serious?” Carly asked.

  “No. We’re just seeing each other. Having fun. A temporary thing.”

  “But he wants to meet us,” Josie pointed out and Carly nodded wisely. “That’s the equivalent of
meeting the parents in your world.”

  “Ooh.” Carly’s eyes lit up. “Will he try to impress us? We can grill him with all kinds of questions about his intentions toward you.”

  “You will not grill him.”

  “Antina.” Josie gave her a stern look. “That’s our responsibility. You take care of us and we take care of you.”

  “Besides,” Carly said through a mouthful of spinach, “if you marry him, then he’d be like our...”

  “Step-uncle?” Josie pondered it. “Uncle-in-law?”

  “I think plain uncle would work,” Tina said dryly. “And you don’t need to worry about it because I won’t be marrying him.”

  “But you could,” Carly persisted. “Don’t you want to get married again?”

  “Yeah, Uncle Noah was an asshole, but that doesn’t mean all men are.”

  Tina gaped at Josie, shocked more that she’d said such a thing than at the language. “You thought Noah was an...”

  “Major asshole,” Carly agreed. “We hated him.”

  “We were sorry he ditched out on you, but it was a relief to know we wouldn’t have to live with him.”

  “And we were really grateful you didn’t kick us out.” Carly chewed her lip. “I probably should have said that before.”

  “Because we know you could have and he wanted you to.” Josie looked sad and Carly patted her hand.

  Her stomach cooled. “You knew that?”

  Josie snorted. “It was hard not to overhear.”

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Josie shrugged it away. “But that’s why it’s cool Mr. Hottie wants to meet us. He knows you’re a package deal and he’s working the angles.”

  “Right?” Carly bounced in her chair. “He knows if he wants to bag you, he’s got to go through us. This could be an awesome gig.”

  Tina rubbed her eyes. The nap had not made up for the night of all sex and no sleep. “Now I’m sure I should cancel.”

  “Too late,” Josie sang out with a bright smile.

  “Too bad,” Carly chimed in.

  “Soooo sad,” they drawled together, then giggled and touched fingers.

  Ryan didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Good morning Celestina. My bed was cold and lonely without you.

  She smiled at the text message and set the phone aside.

  “Is that him?” Josie raised her eyebrows significantly. “Cuz if that was him, then you gotta answer.”

  “Or they think you don’t like them.” Carly grabbed her backpack. “You have to reply. Boys get their feelings hurt easily.”

  “I think I can manage this on my own. Don’t forget your book in the living room.” Impossible to explain that her relationship with Ryan had nothing to do with feelings. That his good-morning messages were...what? Taunts, in a way. Teases to let her know he wasn’t letting her off the hook.

  “Sorry, Antina.” Josie shook her head sadly. “But you are not exactly the queen of dating. Trust us on this.”

  “Fine.” To shut them up, she started to text her standard “good morning” reply, reconsidered and typed, I missed you, too.

  He immediately replied, which likely showed the twins were right and he’d been watching for it. I’m glad. Misery loves company. I miss yours.

  Well you get all three of us tomorrow night. Be prepared for interrogation.

  I cannot be broken.

  She giggled at that, recalled herself and looked up to see the girls grinning at her.

  “God, we’re good.” Carly touched fingers with Josie, their typical finger flutter finishing in her direction.

  “Tina and Ryan, sittin’ in a tree,” Josie started singing as they headed out the door, Carly enthusiastically joining in.

  “Are you two five again?”

  “It’s just nice to see you happy.” They piled into the car, thankfully switching to conversation about the day ahead. And not sniping at each other. Miracles did happen.

  Was she happier? Certainly relieved to have the crushing weight of money worries lightened. And she felt more alive, the sun brighter, her body still humming with all the varied pleasures Ryan had wreaked upon it. He’d called it cathartic and that seemed to be the case, as if she’d shed the sorrow and anger she’d been carrying. Which clearly had been affecting her nieces, too.

  “Wait!” Carly shrieked. “You can’t drive right up to the school.”

  “Did you forget?” Josie met her eyes in the rearview mirror, as it was Carly’s turn to ride shotgun.

  “No, I’m coming in with you. I’m going to see about volunteering to help with the dance team.” Ryan had rebuilt himself from far worse circumstances than she faced. Time to stop moping and do something productive.

  “Yes!” Carly pumped her fist in the air.

  “Thanks, Antina.” Josie, to her surprise, leaned over the seat and kissed her cheek. “You rock.”

  * * *

  He was oddly nervous. Be prepared for interrogation, Celestina had said. When was the last time he was around girls that age? Probably when he himself was twelve. But they were people, right? You talked to them like you would to any person.

  More, he wanted the evening to be fun for Celestina, to make everything perfect. While he knew it wasn’t reasonable, he had this urge to somehow make up for everything she’d missed, give her things that no one had. So she would recognize how much he could give her.

  The fountain in the driveway splashed musically, glinting in the landscape lights and lowering sun. The colors gleamed in jewel tones. He’d forgotten how much difference it made, to have the water going, adding life-giving moisture to the air and all that went with it.

  The gate alarm chimed and Celestina’s car came around the bend of the house. The moment it stopped, two girls popped out, blond hair shining as they turned in circles, taking everything in. Other than the hair color, they looked uncannily like Celestina—a window into the girl she’d been. One of them fixed on him and gave him a long speculating look, then grinned. Celestina had to call the other away from examining the fountain and herded them both up the steps.

  She gave him a wry, amused smile as if they shared a secret. It went through him like an electric shock that she’d never been so unguarded with him, smiling so naturally. Something had changed between them when he wasn’t looking. The sex? No. He didn’t think so.

  “Ryan Black,” she said, with a hand on each girl’s shoulder, “I’d like you to meet Josie and Carly.” She patted each as she spoke their names. Fortunately they wore their hair differently, so he memorized which was which, fairly certain he’d lose points if he mixed them up. They studied him much the way Celestina did, their dark brown eyes large and lustrous like hers, with a similar suspicious glint, that reflexive bracing against more grief.

  “Ladies—delightful to welcome you to my home. Happy birthday, Celestina. You look beautiful.”

  “Why do you call her Celestina?” the one with the shorter curls—Carly—demanded. “Everyone calls her Tina.”

  “Duh,” Josie snorted at her sister. “Because it’s more romantic. Remember Dad always called Mom ‘Arabella’ and no one else did.”

  “And Celestina is a beautiful name,” he told them. “Are yours nicknames?”

  “I’m Josefina and she’s Carlotta.”

  “Also beautiful names. Shall I use those instead? Beautiful names for beautiful young ladies.”

  They both giggled and Celestina laughed lightly. “I warned you he’s charming.” But she gave him a sideways glance as the girls went inside, exclaiming over the house, as if she weren’t quite sure of him.

  “Straight through to the pool patio, out the glass doors,” he called out to them, then caught her hand, hol
ding it as they followed the girls. “What?”

  “Nothing. You put water in the fountain.”

  “It’s a special occasion. I thought it might please you.”

  “It does,” she acknowledged, but a frown lingered around the corners of her eyes.

  “Something else,” he prodded.

  “Just...this is strange. I’m not sure how to do this. Explain to them who you are to me. And everything.”

  A pang of irritated hurt riffled through him, but he calmed it. “People do this all the time. They date and they meet each other’s families.”

  “Oh yes? How many of the women you’ve dated—and we’ll leave out the peculiarities of our relationship—have had kids?”

  “None that I knew of,” he admitted. “But I was never serious enough about any of them to find out.”

  Her easy pace hitched a bit at that, something he noticed mainly in the altered rhythm of her high heels on the tiled floor. She didn’t reply to that, just gazed ahead, her expression studiously calm. “Is that what this is about?”

  “This?”

  “The birthday party thing, meeting the girls.” She glanced at him obliquely now. “Are you changing the rules on me?”

  “Tweaking. I always reserved the right to tweak the rules.”

  She looked undecided about that, then her face transformed as they stepped out onto the pool patio, taking on a look of dazzled wonder, exactly as he’d hoped.

  He’d pulled out all the stops, and his people had transformed the place into a fantasy land of urns spilling with roses of all colors, intertwined with white fairy lights. Another fountain played in the center of the pool, lit with ever-changing colors and dancing to the music emanating from the various hidden speakers. An arbor, dripping with more potted roses and glittering with lights, held a table set for four. A waiter stood nearby, ready to serve the champagne and caviar, while another brought out a plate of Oysters Rockefeller from the chef in the kitchen.