by Lexi Ryan
His phone beeped. Yes. I’m so sorry. You must be angry.
Why would he be angry? Did she think this was her fault? Shit, he should really tell her this was on him.
I’m just worried about you, he typed. A couple innocent pictures had seemed so inconsequential when he’d suggested it to Rick yesterday, but after sharing last night with Riley, seeing their intimate moments exposed in print made him feel violated. Worse, it felt like the photographer had violated her.
Which was fucking convenient since it was his own damn fault.
His phone beeped again. Are you sure you still want to see me?
Charlie shook his head in wonder as he thumbed his response. Of course I do. After last night, seeing you in the flesh again is all I can think about.
***
The Orteja was the kind of place where celebrities took in a late breakfast at one p.m. It was the kind of place where women met for three-martini lunches, and no one but a fool would think she could walk in off the street and be seated.
Riley sat alone at the table that had been reserved under Chaz’s name and wondered if he’d had a change of heart. Ever since their text message conversation this morning, guilt had gnawed its pointy teeth into her conscience, curled its hairy tail around every thought.
Someone published pictures of her kissing another man, and he was worried about her. She didn’t deserve anyone that wonderful. Particularly since, despite her best efforts, she still couldn’t get her mind off a certain poker player.
Add the element of her father—furious, aghast…disappointed—and she could no longer deny that she’d made a mess of her tidy little life.
She checked the time on her phone. 12:15. Maybe Chaz had come to his senses and decided he didn’t want anything to do with her. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she clicked the command on her phone to send him a text.
I’m at The Orteja. I still want to see you if you want to see me.
I’m close. I can be there in five.
So he was still coming. Rolling her shoulders back, she took a sip of her water. She was determined not to be critical. Chaz had proven that he trusted her. That he cared for her even if she wasn’t perfect. Even if she made mistakes. It was high time she returned the favor.
She blinked when, less than a minute later, Chaz came through the door with a bouquet of white roses. As he crossed to her, a string-quartet gliding behind him, their bows working beautiful melodies from their instruments.
Her pulse skittered to a pause and air refused to enter her lungs.
Chaz dropped to his knee in front of her. The quartet decrescendoed as he pulled something from his pocket.
Riley crossed her arms, and her stomach lurched. Everyone around them had stopped their conversations and turned from their drinks to stare.
“Riley Elaine Carter,” Chaz said, opening a black velvet box, “we love each other.”
She swallowed hard, eyes darting to the spectators around them. She willed him to stop, willed time to go in reverse so she could cancel this meal. He’d never taken her to The Orteja. She should have known.
“I know last night was just your way of getting my attention. Of getting me to ask you the question I should have asked you months ago.” He gave a sheepish grin. “I think I’ve just been too afraid to change something so…perfect.”
Riley winced. How could she put a stop to this? “Chaz—”
“You are the woman I want to talk to when life gets hard. You’re the woman I want to raise my children.”
Bile rose in her throat. Did he want a wife or a nanny?
He lifted the box and Riley winced at the size of the diamond. Square cut and at least three carats, the stone leered at her more than winked. “I’m ready to marry you.”
Riley blinked. Wait. Wasn’t he supposed to ask…? Chaz stood and drew her from her chair and into his arms. Applause erupted, as the crowd around them stood. Over Chaz’s shoulder, one man wasn’t clapping.
“Charlie?”
He stood, arms dropped to his sides, stance wide. Their gazes locked for a long moment before he gave her a curt nod and turned away.
“About those pictures…” Chaz whispered in her ear, “I’m going to let you make it up to me.”
He held her tight but she managed to wriggle her hands between their bodies and press against his chest. He took a step back smiling down at her but not releasing her.
“Can we go somewhere…private to talk?”
The smile dropped from his face for a beat before he carefully replaced it. “Sure. Anything for my fiancé.” He wrapped a possessive arm around her shoulder and winked to the crowd. “Apparently the lady wants me alone.”
The crowd’s laughter was another punch in Riley’s already roiling stomach. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to be this close to Chaz. If she wanted to shove him off her because he was holding her close, how was she supposed to marry him?
When they cleared the restaurant doors, he released her shoulders, but resumed his possessive hold on her upper arm. “You almost embarrassed me in there.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Can we just…go to my office and talk?”
“Sure.”
“And let go of my arm. You’re hurting me.”
He released her instantly. “Sorry.” Again the forced smile. “I think after those pictures in the paper this morning, I feel like I have to hold on to you or I might lose you.”
They walked the two blocks back to Grand Escape in stiff silence. The Las Vegas heat pounded them, and with each step Riley grew angrier. Didn’t she deserve a man whose idea of a wife was more than a job description for a nanny? Didn’t she deserve a man who would be hurt if she kissed another man? Who was passionate enough about their love to scream about it? Yes. She did.
And she deserved to be asked for her hand in marriage, not told she was going to give it.
When they stepped into the Grand Escape lobby, the air conditioning felt like a freezer against her dewy skin, and it only hardened her resolve.
Chaz approached the elevator and she stopped short. “You know I can’t take that,” she whispered.
“Get over it, Riley. It will be fine.”
She winced. “Do you even care what I feel about anything?”
His eyes turned darker, harder. “You apparently rode in an elevator last night or that photographer wouldn’t have been able to take pictures of you at the Eiffel Tower Restaurant.”
“That was different. I—” What? She’d been with Charlie Singleton? She’d had his arm around her, his breath brushing across her ear as she’d faced her fear? “It’s different in a glass elevator. I can do a glass elevator.”
He punched the button. “Then you can do this one too.”
Riley stared after Chaz as the elevator doors slid open and he walked in without her. He leaned against the wall and looked at her until the doors slid closed again.
She closed her eyes and wished with all her might that she wasn’t such a coward.
By the time she climbed the twenty-two flights of stairs to her office, Chaz was showing off her ring to Lettie.
“There she is,” Chaz said when he spotted her. He gave her a tight smile and tucked the ring into his pocket. “Hold Ms. Carter’s calls, please,” he requested. “My fiancé and I need some alone time.”
She made sure her office door was firmly shut behind her before she turned to Chaz and braced her hands on her hips. “I wish you’d quit calling me that!”
Chaz straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “What are you talking about?”
Riley couldn’t help but mentally tally all the ways he came up short when compared with Charlie. Charlie’s shoulders were broader, his chest better defined, his biceps thicker.
Charlie would have taken the freaking stairs with her.
“I’m not your fiancé, Chaz. So quit telling everyone I am.”
His scowl drew his features tight and made him look more like a s
poiled child than a confident man. “We just got engaged. Last I checked, that makes you my fiancé.”
“You’re being deliberately obtuse. I never agreed to anything.”
His body deflated. His shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath before collapsing into a chair. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve screwed this all up,” he said softly, his eyes downcast.
“No, you haven’t. It’s just—” She put her hand to her mouth, fighting the instinct to comfort him.
“Did you know I’ve been planning this proposal for weeks?”
She blinked. He’d been planning a proposal while she’d been trying to decide whether or not their lack of sex life was reason enough to end the relationship. The revelation made her feel small.
“And then this morning, the day I’ve been planning, I’m making final arrangements when I see pictures of the woman I love kissing some gambler.”
A professional poker player was a far cry from a gambler, but she didn’t dare say so when shame was smacking her in the face.
He looked up at her, his cool blue eyes searching her face. “So if I came across heavy handed, if this didn’t go quite as I planned…could you cut me some slack?”
Her jaw worked, but she couldn’t find the words. She’d wanted this for so long. She’d been ready—anxious even—to move forward. Why was she so fast to throw it away?
“I’m sorry I pushed you to get on the elevator. I’m just…hell, I’m jealous you’d do it for some other guy.” He shook his head. “So I was an ass. I’m sorry.”
He stood and walked slowly to her, retrieving the ring box from his pocket. He slid the ring from the case and took her hand.
“Riley,” he said, sliding the ring on her finger, “be my wife.”
Her hand shook. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“Shh.” He put a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to answer yet. You’re confused. I understand that. You don’t have to say yes yet, but don’t throw this away by saying no.”
She wriggled the ring off her finger and offered it to Chaz. “This ring is a promise,” she said.
“It’s my promise to you.” He closed her fingers around the hard rock and platinum band. “I might not be as exciting as a world-traveling poker player, but I can give you a good life.”
“Wearing it is a promise too, and I can’t promise you anything in return,” she said softly. “Not right now.” The words hurt. They tore at the heart of the little girl inside her—the little girl who’d lost her only family at twelve and had to move in with a man she didn’t know, the little girl who wanted only to be loved unconditionally and have the stable family she’d only dreamed of.
“He might be exciting, but you know what I am? I’m patient, Riley. I’m willing to wait for what I want.”
Chapter Nine
No matter how hard Charlie went at the bag in Grand Escape’s state of the art fitness center, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just been royally screwed.
Why had she invited him there? Had she known Chaz would be proposing? Had she wanted him to see? When she’d looked at him over Chaz’s shoulders, there had been something in her eyes that had made him draw up short. She’d had the look of a deer in the headlights—frozen, unsure whether to run or fight, and doing neither.
He punched the bag harder, sweat dripping down his forehead and off his chin, but it didn’t change the fact that Riley hadn’t told Chaz no.
“Need someone to hold that for you?”
Charlie glanced over his shoulder to see a kid in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Dark, long, and lanky, he reminded Charlie a lot of himself as a teen. Charlie rolled his shoulders back. If he weren’t already wiped, he’d have refused the kid. He’d have to pull his punches so the teen could keep hold of the bag. “Sure.”
The kid exuded confidence as he stepped behind the bag. The way Charlie had been whaling on the thing, it’d be smart to show a little caution. “What’s got you so pissed off?”
“What?” Charlie wiped his brow and realized his knuckles were sore. He’d been going at the bag bare-fisted because it was more satisfying, but he’d pay for it later. “Why do you think I’m pissed? Maybe I’m just working out.”
The kid arched a brow. “I’ve seen guys hit the bag before. Sometimes it’s just a bag, and sometimes the guy wishes it was someone’s face. Pretty easy to tell which is which.”
Charlie threw a test punch at the bag and nodded in approval as the kid held it steady. Jab, cross, jab, jab! “You’re perceptive,” he said, stepping back. Jab, cross, kick, jab! “And pretty strong for a kid.”
“I’m sixteen,” the kid said.
Charlie raised a brow. Jab, cross, uppercut.
“It seems young to you now, but you didn’t think of yourself as a kid when you were my age. You were only a year older than me when you ran off to LA.”
Charlie stepped back and rubbed his knuckles. “What do you know about me?” He stepped around the bag and nodded for the kid to take a turn. Charlie held the bag while the kid threw steady and intentional punches.
“You’re Charlie Singleton,” the kid said after a round. “‘The Devil,’ right? I know a lot about you just from watching ESPN2.”
Charlie frowned. The Devil. He hated that damn nickname. “Well, don’t believe everything you see on TV.”
“I heard you’re being sued for child support.”
Charlie shoved the bag and stepped back. “What’s it to you?”
The kid lifted a shoulder. “Do you think he’s yours?”
“Anything is possible.” Charlie took a second look at the kid. Sixteen. Dark hair. Tall, athletic. Cocky.
“You even want anything to do with him if he is?”
Charlie crossed his arms. “What’d you say your name was?”
The kid blinked and looked to the ceiling for a split second. “Derrick.”
“Derrick, it’s complicated. No one ever told me I had a kid, and I’m not exactly role model material.”
“Derrick” took position behind the bag and nodded for Charlie to take a turn. “So that gets you out of it? Not your fault, so you can just walk away?”
Charlie worked the bag for a few before answering. “I didn’t say I was going to walk away.” He lifted his eyes to meet the kid’s. Blue, just like Charlie’s. Go figure. “Sticking around might not be the best thing for this kid. I have to consider that.”
The kid shrugged as if Charlie’s answer meant nothing to him. “That’s cool.” He looked at his watch. “Hey, I’ve gotta bounce.”
Charlie nodded, something painful balling in his throat. “Thanks for the company.”
The kid grinned. “It’s a woman, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“The reason you were so pissed. Only a woman can rile a guy up like that and make him choose to hit a bag instead of someone’s face.”
Laughter slipped from Charlie’s lips and he found himself grinning.
“Just don’t be like those idiots in the movies and let everything fall apart because you’re too afraid to tell her the truth about how you feel.”
Charlie raised a brow. “A sage at sixteen?”
The kid lifted his palms in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Women are my specialty,” he said before turning to the door.
“Hey, kid!” Charlie called after him. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “I’ll be here tomorrow, same time.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, but the words were out of his mouth before he could analyze his reasons.
The kid nodded slowly. “Yeah. That could be all right.”
***
“I have never seen my brother look at a woman like that.” Lacey stared at the paper, eyes wide. Riley plopped down on the couch next to her and Lace reiterated, “Ever.”
“Lace—”
“It’s not like he’s never been in a relationship,
but—”
“Lacey!”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. It’s cute.”
“Chaz took me to lunch at The Orteja today.”
“Yikes, was he mad? Shit. What’d you tell him? That kiss—” she dropped her eyes to the paper “—shit, he’s gotta be upset. I’ve never seen him kiss you like that, and I’m not even sure he’s—”
“Lace, he proposed.”
“—capable.” She stopped. “Oh.”
Riley let out a breath. “Right. Exactly.”
“So.” Lacey chewed her bottom lip.
“So?” Riley winced. “A girl’s best friend should be happy when her boyfriend proposes.”
Lacey nodded. “Right! Oh, yeah. Of course.” She leaned forward and gave Riley a light hug.
Riley pulled back. “You don’t have to fake it, Lacey.”
The strained smile dropped off Lacey’s face. “I don’t?”
“I didn’t say yes.”
Lacey’s blue eyes lit up. “You said no?”
“Not exactly.”
She frowned. “What does that mean? And does Charlie know?”
“It means that I wasn’t ready to say yes, but I wasn’t ready to give up on our relationship either. And, yes, Charlie knows. He happened to be at The Orteja when Chaz dropped to a knee.”
“Ouch.”
Riley closed her eyes. She couldn’t tell Lacey the truth—that she was grateful for Charlie’s presence. The man she wanted had watched as the man she was supposed to want offered her a ring. His presence reminded her not to settle.
“Listen, our lease is up in a couple months, and I know I’d kind of indicated that I’d like to get my own place.”
Lacey nodded. “I understand, Ry. We can’t live like we’re in college forever. Plus, when you get the GM position, you’ll be raking in the cash. You won’t need to live here.”
Riley wrung her hands. “My father gave that position to someone else.”
Lacey gaped. “He didn’t!”
“I’m sorry to say it’s true.”
“Well, that’s his loss, Riley, because you would have made the best GM Grand Escape had ever seen.”
