A Sinful Encore

by Lisa Renee Jones

  I blink. “Wait. What? You think I have an inheritance?”

  “I have no idea, but I’d think you would. And Gio, too.”

  “Surely after this long, someone would have claimed it.”

  “Who would that be? Because whoever that is could be behind your father’s disappearance.”

  “I don’t actually know. You think this could have been about an inheritance, not the formula?”

  “Blake brought it up while you were upstairs today and I think it’s something to consider. His team is looking into it.”

  His cellphone buzzes with a text on the table next to him. He punches a button and reads the message. “Jenny. She says to tell you the cookie has icing just for you.”

  “I’m all in for the icing, but should we really do this right now? What if someone wants to get to you through them?”

  “Believe me, I’m not oblivious to that threat and it’s just another reason to get out of the city. Blake is keeping an eye on them, but we need to say goodbye. If we don’t, they’ll know something is wrong and worry.”

  “Right. Of course, they will. We were just with them and said nothing about this.” I take a big long swig of my soda for courage before I dare to broach a difficult topic. “Alexander,” I say.

  Kace's expression doesn’t change, but there’s a distinct sharpening of his jaw. "What about him?"

  “He lives in our building and frequents Riptide. I’m going to run into him. I need to know what to say to him or how to handle him to best defuse an explosion.”

  “You won’t run into him.” Kace finishes off a taco as if he’s said nothing but “more food, please.”

  On instant alert, I lean close. “What does that mean?”

  He balls up the taco paper and throws it into the bag. “He left the country. An opportunity he couldn’t turn down. That said, I do want you out of his path when he returns. I think buying a place that we remodel or just plan to build out to our liking, is perfect. It will be ours, not mine.”

  He wants to buy a new place with me? I blink. Stunned. Excited. Happy. Confused. “That sounds like a dream, Kace, but honestly, I love where we’re at now. I thought you didn’t want to be pushed out by Alexander.”

  “We aren’t being pushed out. It’s all part of a calculated decision. When he falls, and he will fall, I don’t need you to be there to see his meltdown.”

  “What are you going to do? Tell me.”

  “No.”

  I blink, stunned all over again. “Kace if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I mean, live with you,” I quickly correct, my cheeks heating, “then I should be the person you trust.”

  His hand covers mine, heat radiating up my arm, nerves jittery in my belly. “There is no if, baby,” he says. “You already live with me. And I do want you to spend the rest of your life with me. Exactly why I do not want you to see this part of me.”

  He wants me to spend the rest of my life with him. I thrill at this knowledge, but I force myself to focus on the obstacles he himself has put in front of us to prevent it from happening. “I thought we got rid of the secrets?”

  “This isn’t a secret. You know I’m dealing with him. It’s just me protecting you from the more explicit details.”

  “And hurting us in the process. Be you, Kace. Good, bad, ugly, sweet, wonderful, whatever. Just be you. I need things that are real in my life and so do you. I need to know the real man.”

  “You do, like no one else knows me, Aria.”

  My lips press together with this reply. He still doesn’t trust me. Maybe he will never and that’s not a path to forever. It’s a path to goodbye. “Apparently not.” I slip into my coat.

  He scowls. “What are you doing?”

  “I need an icing-topped cookie, or ten, really badly right now, emphasis on the icing.” I stand up and start gathering the trash. He does the same, awkwardness pinging between us. We walk to the door and he opens it and I can feel his heavy scrutiny. I don’t look at him. I walk outside where the snow has faded, and a pinch of sunshine peeks through a cloud, and I don’t stop. I turn, but three steps into a path that leads to cookies, I’m halted.

  Kace captures my elbow, turning me to him, his gaze colliding with mine, his expression dark, almost haunted. We are near a wall, and people are busy around us, almost shoving us. He backs me up, closer to the building wall, lowering his head. “I’m trying to protect myself.” His voice is tight.

  My chin lifts in defiance of that statement. “Why do you want to live with someone you don’t trust?”

  “I trust you completely, Aria.”

  “And yet you can’t stand the idea of me seeing every part of you,” I say and it’s not a question. It’s a statement of fact.

  The muscle in his jaw tics and his hand goes to the wall over my head, his lashes lowering, a turbulent look etched on his handsome face. I catch his jacket and force his gaze to mine. “You told me you were going to handle him brutally, Kace,” I say. “I didn’t run then. I’m not going to run now.”

  “You think you won’t.” His voice is gruffer now, his tone deeper.

  “I don’t want a fair-weather relationship,” I say. “I can’t do fair-weather. I need to know that nothing is off limits with us. And to you.”

  His expression is unreadable, his eyes fixed on me, a beam of scrutiny, and when I think he will reject my words, instead he says, “We are not fair-weather.” His hand slides to my back, just above my backside and he molds our hips together. “We aren’t.”

  My hand flattens on his chest, over the leather of his jacket. “Then trust me.”

  “For now, Blake’s digging into Maggie’s death. He feels like there’s a real chance Alexander killed her. I cleared a path for him to dig without pushback from Alexander.”

  “How?”

  “Alexander is in oil. I own substantial stock in a large oil company under a holding company name. In other words, he won’t know I’m involved. I arranged for him to be offered a large contract if he proves capable with the culture. That means spending three months in Africa.”

  “But he won’t get the contract.”

  “No,” he confirms. “He will not.”

  “And when he comes back, Blake plans to have him arrested?”

  “If he finds the evidence, yes.”

  “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me that.”

  “Because, baby, he won’t have the resources to hire a lawyer, let alone maintain his lifestyle. I hired someone to ensure he spirals financially.”

  “And then he’ll offer to sell you your music.”

  “Not if his assets are seized. When they’re sold off, I’ll get my music back.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would they be seized?”

  “Because they will.”

  “Because there’s more to the story.”

  His cellphone buzzes and he grabs his phone from his pocket and glances at his messages. “More cookies, apparently. Jenny is anxious for us to arrive and try the cookies fresh from the oven.” He catches my hand and kisses it. “Let’s go finish our visit. The realtor I talked to about finding a new apartment wants to meet us at six. Knowing Jenny and Jerry, they won’t want us to leave.”

  I blink, surprised by how fast he’s moving on this new apartment deal, but I don’t push him, not right now, but I’m no fool. There’s more to his reasoning for this, clearly, but he doesn’t think I can handle. I am reminded that you don’t have to trust someone to love them. Obviously, my father didn’t trust my mother. That’s not what I want for us.

  Kace pushes off the wall, and I slide my arms under his jacket and stare up at him. “I can handle the more, and one day, you’ll know me well enough to know that’s true.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kace and I enter the busy cookie shop to the sweet scent of baked goods and a squeal from Jenny from behind the counter. “Finally, she’s here!” she exclaims, drawing
the attention of a good half a dozen customers. “And just in time,” she adds. “We have a fresh batch of cookies we just pulled from the oven.” She motions toward a back area. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

  Her reaction to my visit warms me inside while the toasty heater has me shrugging out of my coat. Kace steps behind me and aids my effort, leaning in to whisper, “I think she likes you better than me.”

  I laugh and glance over my shoulder at him. “I am an icing expert,” I inform him quite seriously.

  “So I’ve heard,” he says, as I rotate to face him. “You’ll have to prove it today.”

  “Gladly.” I rub my hands together. “I’m all about the tasting.”

  He tosses my coat over his arm and leads me through the seating area, which I only now notice the tables having cute little cookies imprinted on the tops. In the process, I don’t miss the way two women at one of those nearby tables are eyeing Kace, their heads together, all smiles and whispers. Kace notices—I know he notices—and his response is a possessive hand on my lower back, a wordless statement of ownership—his and mine. With it, I feel this sense of security that I haven’t asked for but that he’s offered freely. It matters. I don’t know if I knew how much, but I’m beginning to, so very much.

  Kace guides me toward a hallway, but just as we attempt to enter, Jerry steps into our path, a giant wall of a man who is now blocking our way to the cookies. Today he’s wearing khakis and a shirt that reads “Cookie Bossman” but his expression is steel. “Coats or no cookies.” He holds out his arms.

  A smile tempts my lips, but I don’t dare. Not when he’s in soldier mode. Kace complies with the command, offering up my coat before he shrugs out of his to do the same. Jerry glances between us and then orders, “I’ll cover the front. Now go sample.” He turns and leaves, disappearing beyond a doorway where I assume he will deposit our coats.

  “Why do I feel our coats are now being held captive?” I whisper conspiratorially.

  Kace smiles. “Because they are,” he assures me. “We’ll have to pry them from his hands when we’re ready to go shopping for our new home.”

  The word home still manages to pinch my chest while his hand closing around mine as he pushes open two double steel doors is a welcome connection. Jenny is inside the kitchen waiting on us and she’s standing in front of a shiny steel island covered in silver trays of yummy cookies. She’s also wearing a pink apron with “Cookie Dominatrix” on it, which has me grinning ear-to-ear. “Obviously, you’re sampling more than one cookie,” she says, motioning us forward. “Come to the cookies, my little connoisseur of icing.”

  I laugh and Kace and I sidle on up to the opposite side of the island as she proceeds to present the offers. “Strawberry with white chocolate icing, chocolate with peanut butter icing, and sugar with buttercream.”

  “Sugar with buttercream,” I say. “Me want. Me have to have.”

  A few minutes later, the sugar wins for me and Kace, but they are all delicious. In the midst of the sample tasting, there is a lot of chatter and laughter. “It’s closing time,” Jerry announces, joining us. “We’re locked up and the coffee is ready up front.”

  It’s not long until we’re all around a table in the main dining area sipping coffee. “We should go shopping, Aria,” Jenny offers.

  The idea of me shopping with Kace’s godmother is another surreal moment for me. It’s family. It’s the mother and daughter activities I lost when I lost my mother. It’s wonderfully painful. “I’d like that.”

  “After we get back to the States,” Kace says, squeezing my leg.

  Jerry scowls at Kace and leans in closer to him. “What does that mean, son?”

  “I’m taking Aria to Germany for a couple of weeks before we hit Italy and Paris for two holiday charity events.”

  Jenny’s lips purse with disapproval. “I thought you were staying home this year, Kace?”

  “Next year,” Kace replies. “I’m looking forward to it and since Aria and I are now living together,” he glances down at me, and slides an arm around me, “I’m fairly certain we’ll have a tree.”

  “We will,” I assure them all. “I haven’t had a tree in years.”

  “Oh my!” Jenny squeals. “Oh my, this is wonderful.” She nudges Jerry. “Told you.” She claps her hands together, her eyes lighting like a child with a new toy: me. “I know what comes next.”

  Mortified that she’s about to say marriage and put Kace on the spot, and me too for that matter, I quickly say, “I’m sorry we won’t be here this year, but you both know how important this charity is to Kace.”

  Jerry’s expression tightens. “We do. It’s a good thing you’re doing, son.”

  “Why don’t you come to the Paris show?” Kace says. “You were both sick for my show here. I’ll fly you out and set you up in style.”

  Jenny glances hopefully at Jerry. “You have been promising me Paris and I hear it’s amazing during the holidays.”

  Big bad Jerry softens like a teddy bear and kisses her temple. “We’ll make it happen. We need to see him play.”

  “Then it’s a date,” Kace says, locking them down. “I’ll coordinate everything with you once we’re in Germany.”

  I am charmed by Kace’s bond with Jerry and Jenny, and my hand finds his, drawing those dreamy blue eyes to mine. We both break into smiles and he leans in and gives me a sweet peck on the mouth.

  My cellphone rings and just like that, I’m out of the sweet moment, my heart lurching. Hating how easily a call sets me on edge, I snake it from my purse to glance at the caller ID. A mix of relief and disappointment fills me as I eye Kace. “Nancy. I need to talk to her. She doesn’t know we’re leaving.” I give a nod and glance between Jenny and Jerry. “Work stuff. Sorry. I’ll be right back.” I stand and step away.

  “Hey, Nancy,” I greet, standing near the front window to watch the new spill of snow flutter by the window.

  “Hi,” she greets. “I wanted to let you know I have a buyer interested in a coin collection from that list you gave me. It looks like a great sale.” I pause at the window as she runs down the details with me. “I’ll email you the details of our call with his contact information,” she closes.

  “Perfect. Thank you.”

  “Should I go by the store and check on things?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “Actually, we should meet and talk.”

  “Oh God, am I being fired?”

  “No. No, you are not being fired, but I’d like you to work contract for me from home from now on.”

  “But what about the store?”

  Indeed, I think, what about the store? It’s just one more thing I need to have a real conversation with Gio about. “We’re changing the business model. Can you meet me tonight? You can bring the kiddo.”

  “Sure, but my sister is in town, so all is well with the babysitter. That’s her. She’ll live with it. What time and where?”

  “Late, unfortunately,” I say, “but it’s important.” I think about the time with the realtor coming up and says, “Eight is the earliest I can do this, but I might have to change that if another meeting conflicts. I’ll know soon.”

  “Yes, sure. Where?”

  I decide the best way to make her feel secure is for her to come to the apartment. Hoping Kace is fine with that, I say, “I’ll text you the address and let the doorman know you can come up.”

  “The doorman?” she queries. “Where am I going?”

  “To my new apartment.”

  “Oh my God,” she gasps. “Did you move in with Kace?”

  “I did,” I say, and I’m smiling. I can’t help it. I did move in with Kace. And it’s wonderful.

  “I have so many thoughts right now,” she says. “This is fast, but he’s hot and rich and—just so many thoughts.”

  I muster a little smile that would not have been possible an hour ago, but Kace changed that and character that she is, her mood is infectio
us. “And I’m sure you’ll share them all when you get there.”

  We say our goodbyes, and I turn to the window to admire the snow when my eyes catch on a woman directly across the street from where I stand. She’s in a winter beanie with a big fluffy ball on top, a thick coat draped around her. She seems to be staring at me.

  Unease slides through me and I punch in Savage’s number. He answers on the first ring. “Savage at your service, milady.”

  “There’s a woman standing directly across from me right now staring at me. It feels off.”

  “We see the little minx,” he says. “We’re going to follow her. Go back to eating cookies. Get some to go. I want the sugar with icing.”

  “How did you know what I’m doing inside?”

  “It’s a cookie shop. If you aren’t eating cookies, I’m not sure I can protect you anymore.” He hangs up. Kace’s hand settles on my shoulder and I turn to face him. “Kace.” I grab his T-shirt.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “There’s a woman watching us. I called Savage.” I turn back to the glass to show him, but she’s gone.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “She’s gone. The woman is gone.” I twist back around to face Kace. “Maybe she was just some random person. I don’t know. I called Savage. He saw her, too.” I grab Kace’s shirt again, my words hissing from between my teeth. “I knew we shouldn’t have come here.”

  “She might have been trying to see if they were open, baby.”

  “From across the street?” I ask in disbelief.

  “It’s snowing,” he says. “Why walk over if it’s closed?”

  “Right. True. I guess you’re the voice of reason. Or not. Maybe I’m the voice of reason.” I turn back to the window, scanning for her again, something clawing in my mind. Something about the woman feels familiar. Or not, I think. I just can’t be sure.

  My cellphone rings in my hand and I glance at the caller ID, twisting around to face Kace. “Savage,” I say, answering the call.

  “She’s with her husband and kids, who wanted cookies. We’re all clear. Don’t forget my cookies.” He disconnects.