Decidedly Off Limits

by Stina Lindenblatt

  It wasn’t pretty.

  They both got fired. That wouldn’t happen to Holly and me. We were too good at our jobs. The firm needed us. But it still didn’t mean I wanted to get involved in something messy like that.

  Besides, I preferred keeping things casual with the women I dated. Want a commitment? Then you were chasing the wrong guy.

  Want a great fuck? Then I was your man.

  Another reason why I was all wrong for Kelsey.

  Kelsey finally moved into the living room and I saw what made her freeze up. Liam was standing there with my brother-in-law, Darren, talking and laughing. While they seemed to be having a good time, the heavy feeling that always sat in the air just before Liam left on a mission was denser than the San Francisco fog. My heart pinched, understanding what Kelsey was going through, having lived through it myself numerous times with Liam and my brother. It was the feeling you had, no matter how positive you tried to be, that he might not return home in one piece…or might return home a different man.

  Kelsey hugged her brother, and for a moment I was positive she would never let him go. Liam held her equally tight. It wasn’t because he feared he would never return. Their parents died while he was away on a mission. Kelsey had also been in the car and had come close to dying too.

  His biggest fear wasn’t the assholes he was sent to fight. He was afraid of something bad happening to his sister and not being here for her.

  I approached them as Kelsey pulled back, her eyes shiny. She blinked away her tears, and the sun returned to her face. “Just remember to kick some major ass, all right?”

  Liam laughed. “I’ll be sure to do that.” Then he spotted me and the familiar smirk appeared on his face.

  I gave him a one-armed hug. “Hey, you made it.”

  “Of course I made it. I wouldn’t miss this party for anything.” He glanced in Holly’s direction. “How come you never mentioned your gorgeous girlfriend?” He draped his arm around her shoulders. “Forget Trent. He’s just a boring portfolio manager who spends his day making nice with numbers.” Liam pounded his fist against his chest a few times, King Kong style. “I’m a man of adventure who likes long walks on moonlit beaches.”

  A laugh burst free from my lungs. “You need to work on your cheesy pick-up lines, bro. Then you’d have a better chance of getting laid.” I could guarantee Liam wasn’t the moonlit-beach-walking type.

  “Hello? I’m standing right here,” Kelsey piped in. “I don’t need to hear about my brother’s sex life. Just like you don’t need to hear about what brand of tampon I use.” She laughed, and the tension I’d felt from my best friend putting his life at risk again eased off at the sweet sound. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it until now.

  “Point taken,” Liam said.

  “Holly and I work together,” I explained, voice low. “She’s only here to keep Mom from asking about my dating life. So please don’t make a bigger deal of this than it really is.”

  Kelsey looked slightly taken aback by that. Holly’s smile wavered for a second, then returned full force. It was the smile she always had whenever the stock market was having a bad day and I went shopping for discounts. She knew days like that gave me a hard-on.

  Metaphorically speaking.

  Or not.

  “So, do you have a boyfriend?” Holly asked Kelsey. She glanced around the room, as if expecting some guy to magically appear. Most of the men here were my father’s age and no way would Kelsey go there.

  Kelsey shifted on her feet, looking ready to run. I fought back the urge to pull her into my arms and stroke her soft skin, to comfort her.

  “I was engaged but I ended it a few months ago,” she explained.

  Holly’s eyes went wide. “Why? What happened?” She then blushed. “I’m sorry, that was rude. It’s none of my business.”

  That might’ve been true, but I was curious too. Neither Erin nor Liam had told me what happened.

  “No, it’s okay. Owen wants to become partner in his law firm. That means putting in never-ending hours. He rarely had time for me, and I got tired of feeling like I was no longer worth the effort, and of him constantly canceling on me because of his job.” Kelsey held her chin high, proud of her strength to walk away from a guy she loved but who was too much of a douchebag to appreciate what was in front of him.

  “I understood why he had to do it, why the long hours,” she added. “He had worked hard to get this far. I was proud of him. I really was. But he just didn’t seem interested in finding a way to make room in his life for both his job and me.” She jerked her shoulders in a what-can-you-do shrug.

  Holly chuckled. “That sounds a lot like Trent. I swear he spends more time at the office than he does at home.” Said the woman who spent almost an equal amount of time at the office as me. Maybe even more so lately.

  But I at least had a reason. Several, actually. First came Angela.

  She’d faked a pregnancy just to become the first Mrs. Trent Salway.

  Then came Roselyn.

  And Carrie.

  Carrie’s claim to fame was cheating on me—with an eighty-year-old man. I provided the cock; he provided the lifestyle she craved.

  I’d long since realized I wasn’t meant for love. Love meant trust, and I didn’t have a good track record with that. Work was the one thing that wouldn’t let me down at the end of the day.

  Erin approached our small group. “Kelsey, can you help me for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked away as Darren asked Holly a question about her job. While they were busy talking, Liam pulled me away to a quiet corner.

  “I don’t know how long my mission will be this time,” he said, tone sullen, like he was going to a funeral, possibly his own. He glanced toward his sister, who was now organizing the food on the dinner table, and let out a slow breath. “Can you keep an eye out for Kelsey? Make sure she’s okay while I’m gone.”

  I started. He’d never asked this of me before, even after the accident that claimed his parents’ life. But I knew that he worried about her every time he left on a mission. More so than he worried about his own safety.

  Normally a “hell yes” response would be appropriate to a question like this.

  Remember Best Friend Rules #1-3?

  I did. I also remembered how Kelsey had done everything in her power to avoid me after I came home from college one summer. It was the summer I’d hooked up with one of my sister’s classmates, who I swear had been Velcro in a former life. “I can try. But it’s not like I see her much.”

  “I know.” He let out another slow breath. “But she seems restless lately. I’d just feel better if someone makes sure she at least isn’t dating assholes. The last thing she needs is to fall for some guy like you, you know, only interested in a good time. Not interested in anything beyond that. She deserves better than that.”

  Good thing I wasn’t drinking at that particular moment. I would’ve spewed my beer all over Mom’s prized tropical plant if I had been. Did he seriously expect me to vet Kelsey’s future boyfriends? I doubted she would’ve let her father do that if he were alive—and I doubted she would’ve let Liam have any say in it if he was still living in San Francisco.

  And yes, his assessment of me stung a little, even if it was true.

  But since I hadn’t heard anything about Kelsey even being remotely interested in dating just yet, I said, as we returned to where Holly and Darren were standing, “Okay. I can do that if you want.”

  I mean, how hard would it be?

  “I swear, you’ll like this guy,” Erin said as she and Kelsey approached. “He’s super sexy and eager to go out with you.”

  My sister jerked her eyebrows in a comical dance—and Liam gave me a meaningful glance, reminding me of my promise.

  Shit.

  3

  Kelsey

  In everyone’s life there is that one person who thinks she’s an expert in all matters of the heart. You know the one. Sometime
s she knows what she’s talking about…most times she doesn’t. Her “knowledge” is based on her many failed relationships.

  Her goal? To stick her nose into your love life, whether you want her to or not.

  “When was the last time you kissed a man?” Chloe asked. Her long, curly red hair was pulled back in two loose pigtails, and she watched me with her large brown eyes.

  That’s right. My love expert came in the form of a six-year-old patient.

  “I can’t remember.” I’d long since learned that trying to change the topic didn’t work with Chloe. You just had to go with the flow and hope for the best.

  “You have kissed before, right?” She tossed the beanbag at me while attempting to balance on the wobble board. She swayed, her arms flailing madly about as she tried to regain her balance. “Kissing is important for a strong relationship.” Her foot touched the ground and she grunted her annoyance.

  “Where did you hear that?” I asked, because there was no way a six-year-old would know that. Most believed kissing was gross.

  “Ewww. Kissing is gross,” Lindsay said. See what I mean? Whereas Chloe was the love expert, Lindsay thought boys were dumb.

  “Grandma,” Chloe said, ignoring Lindsay. “She also said that boys won’t buy the cow if you give away the milk for free. I don’t have a cow to sell, but I did try to give my chocolate milk to Joey. He didn’t want it. He’s lactose intolerant.”

  A laugh burst free, and I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from cracking up. “I can see how that would be a problem.”

  “I love chocolate milk,” Lindsay helpfully pointed out while wobbling on her balance board. “I wouldn’t give it to a dumb boy.”

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing again. “Good for you, Lindsay.”

  Chloe tossed another beanbag at me. “Do you loooove anyone?” she asked me.

  “I love my friends, my brother, and my cat.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and flashed me an exasperated look. “No, do you loooove a man and want to marry him?”

  Trent’s face immediately popped into my head as I was about to tell her “no.” I must have made some kind of lovesick face because Chloe sing-songed, “Ooooh, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Kelsey with a baby carriage.”

  Given that I couldn’t see Trent ever settling down, let alone with me, I attempted to shove his image from my head.

  It didn’t budge.

  “Does he like bugs?” Chloe loved bugs.

  “There is no guy.”

  Hence why Erin was trying her darnedest to rectify that. Her mission? To help me find Mr. Right.

  Naturally Trent wasn’t at the top of the list.

  Or on the bottom.

  Or anywhere in between.

  “Did you want one?” Chloe asked.

  Was I tired of being alone? Yes.

  Did I want to waste time dating guys who didn’t set my body on fire with just once glance? Not really. But I wasn’t about to admit that to Chloe.

  “You don’t need to be in love with a man to be happy,” I said.

  Chloe didn’t look too convinced. Lindsay nodded her approval.

  I indicated for the two girls to sit on the oversized balls. They bounced on them, working their core strength, while I retrieved the beanbags scattered across the floor.

  “You could find a boyfriend like my Grandma did,” Chloe said. Lindsay just bounced higher.

  “How did she do that?” I asked.

  “She joined a lawn-bowling club.”

  And there you had it. Chloe and Erin were never allowed to meet. Ever.

  “But remember,” she added, her tone serious, “you’re not supposed to give him your chocolate milk if you want to sell him your cow.”

  I pressed my lips together, fighting back the forming grin. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  While the girls worked through the rest of the session, I did my best not to think about the metaphoric chocolate milk. Just like I had tried not to think about it for the past 463 days.

  The only reason I was even contemplating letting Erin set me up was because I was hoping for one night of meaningless sex.

  One night to end the record-shattering draught.

  One night to distract me from my fantasies of Trent. Naked.

  Under me.

  Over me.

  Inside me.

  God, I was a lost cause.

  Next to me on her couch, Erin flipped the magazine page and checked out the quiz: Are You Confident Enough To Make Guys Come At The Sight Of You?

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t the exact title, but you got the general gist. I had already read 48 Moves To Drive Your Man Crazy In Bed. Want to learn how to make a man truly happy? Read erotic romance. Nothing was more educational than that.

  “Why are you reading that?” I glanced at the clock to see how much time was left before Outlander started. Jamie Fraser in a kilt was usually enough to distract Erin from my love life. Call me paranoid, but I had an uneasy feeling she was reading the article for my benefit, not hers.

  “It’s not for me,” she said, not even looking up. “I’m checking it out for you.”

  See what I mean? “Me? I don’t need that.”

  “Tell me, what is your purpose in life?” She pointed at the title on the cover, for an article about creating a fulfilling life before entering a relationship, and waited expectantly for me to answer.

  “You seriously want me to answer that?” I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth, buying time in case she really did expect me to tell her. Hell if I knew what it was.

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

  “Well…I guess it’s to help kids with their physical rehabilitation.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “That’s your job description, but it can’t be your only purpose in life. There’s more to you than just helping kids, right?”

  “Er…” I drew a blank. Even my cat could have done better.

  “What about your hobbies? I play the piano and create jewelry. What about you?”

  “Let’s see. I took violin lessons when I was ten.” Which she knew about. Like she knew about my other non-hobbies. “I sucked at it and gave it up. I’m not athletically inclined.” Far from it. “I can make a decent fire. Does that count?”

  Erin snorted. “Not really. So what do you do when you’re not working?”

  I shrugged, too embarrassed to admit that I spent my evenings reading romance novels, hanging out with my cat, and watching TV. But I didn’t need to tell her. That was why she’d been trying to set me up on a date. “I go to the gym after work.” It must count for something.

  “Okay, so your purpose in life is to be in shape.” At first I thought she was serious, but then she smirked.

  “Hey, being in shape is a good thing. It means I’m healthy and will have a long life.” A long unfulfilling life, apparently.

  Erin closed the magazine and placed it on the coffee table. A breeze from the nearby window ruffled the cover, causing it to either wave at me or mock me. It could have gone either way.

  “Let’s look at this another way,” she said. “If you’re gonna be dating, you need to have common interests with the guy.”

  “Who says I’m gonna be dating? Maybe I like being single. Single is good.” Now if only my voice sounded like I was fully on board. “It beats being in a relationship and still being alone.” Something I was an expert on.

  “True. But you’d feel differently if you dated the right man. Owen wasn’t the right man.” A fact Erin had harped on when I first started dating him in college.

  At the time, both Owen and I had been busy with classes and didn’t have much time for anything else. Back then it had been fine, but I had foolishly thought that once we were out and working we would’ve had more time for each other.

  Silly me.

  “You’re right,” I said. “He wasn’t the right man for me. But I haven’t exactly
met the right man. All the good ones are already taken.”

  “And that’s why I’ve made it my personal mission to help you find the perfect guy. I love you, Kels, and I just want you to be happy like I am with Darren. Are you sure there’s no one you’re interested in?”

  I wavered for a moment, lips parted. Trent’s name sat on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to say it.

  I bit back the words. “Nope, no one.”

  “Don’t worry,” Erin said, “I’m positive you’ll love Stephen. He’s really excited to meet you.”

  Inwardly I cringed. I didn’t need to go on the date to know it would be an epic failure. Since when did blind dates ever work out?

  Never. That’s when.

  Ugh.

  4

  Trent

  Sweating from my workout, my T-shirt sticking to my skin, I strode through my apartment, taking in the expensive decorations and furniture that didn’t feel like me. I had hired someone to decorate the place at the recommendation of my boss. Something about the condo reminded me of how far I’d come, and how hard I’d worked my ass off to get to this point—the point of being one of the youngest and hottest portfolio managers around.

  By hottest, I meant I knew my shit when it came to the stock market and it showed. My mutual funds had outperformed everyone else’s in the company for the past two years. I’d been quoted a number of times in the financial sections of respected newspapers—which I could guarantee the girls I’d slept with over the years had never heard of or read.

  But I did refuse an interview last year with Forbes Magazine because they wanted to talk about my success. I didn’t want to risk a money-hungry bitch painting a big fat target on my chest, and scheming to be the first Mrs. Trent Salway.

  I’d already traveled down that path.

  A path filled with thorns and poison ivy.

  I quickly showered and grabbed an equally quick dinner. Now, I wasn’t ashamed to admit it…but my cooking skills were greatly absent. But hey, it wasn’t like they had cooking classes at Columbia. Or at least if they did, they hadn’t existed in my program while I was there.