One More Drink: New Year Bae-Solutions
Page 7
“That’s good to hear.” She also checked the macaroni and cheese baking in the bottom oven. My favorite.
“I wish Dallas could have come,” Bliss mused. “I tried to get her to cancel her plans.”
Paityn lifted the top off the pot on the stovetop, stirring the mustard and turnip greens a bit before she turned down the heat. “I do, too. But I’m not mad at her for taking a vacation out of the country. It’s about time.” She glanced at the Instant Pot on the countertop, noting the remaining time on the pulled pork, Bliss’ favorite.
The truth? She did have reservations for dinner and dancing. Tomorrow. But, tonight, she also wanted to spoil her sisters a little. And it had been a while since she’d cooked anything of substance.
Growing up the second oldest child of a world-renowned couple, known for mending relationships and teaching others to parent, had a unique set of challenges. Partly because it was hard to live in her parents’ shadows, but mostly because there were eight of them. Yes, Stewart and Victoria Young had eight damn children—willingly and happily. Paityn was the responsible sister, the oldest daughter, always offering a plate of food, a hand to hold, and a shoulder to cry on.
“Duke is pissed you didn’t invite him,” Bliss said.
Paityn laughed, thinking of the phone call she’d received from her brother earlier that morning. “I didn’t invite y’all.”
“But you’re glad we’re here,” Blake added.
“I am, but I’m hanging up. I gave the concierge your names, so you should be able to come up without any problems. Don’t kill anybody, Blake. See you soon.”
Paityn ended the call after her sisters screamed goodbye. Shaking her head, she turned the dishwasher on and poured a glass of wine. When the oven timer went off, she pulled the dessert out and set it atop the island. The smell of peaches and cinnamon wafted to her nose and she resisted the urge to taste the cobbler.
She scanned the notes she’d jotted down earlier that day. The clitoral cream she’d hoped to perfect had been harder than she originally thought. Between her work as a sex therapist and her science background, it should have been a no brainer. Yet, she’d failed to even achieve the big “O” for the first two batches she’d made. Biting her thumbnail, she pondered her choice of ingredients. Maybe she’d used too much sodium benzoate?
Paityn scribbled an idea on the notepad and eyed the prototype she’d created. It was the fifth dildo she’d created and, by far, the best. She couldn’t wait to show Blake and Bliss, which was why it was out in the open and not in her makeshift office-slash-lab.
Once Paityn had decided every woman needed a big ass dick, the wheels started spinning and a business idea formed. Paityn knew there were other sex aids on the market, entire stores dedicated to the business of pleasure, but she’d jumped in anyway. Now she was preparing to pitch her brand of sexual enhancement products.
When her stomach growled, Paityn glanced over at the peach cobbler. One spoonful won’t hurt. She grabbed a wooden spoon and scooped a heaping helping out of the pan. Before she knew it one bite turned into two. Then, three. Oh my God. Four.
Fortunately, the knock on the door interrupted her greedy moment. She licked the spoon as she headed toward the door. She’d figured it would be at least thirty minutes before her sisters arrived. The airport was less than fifteen miles away, but it almost always took more than thirty minutes to get there in the infuriating 405 traffic.
She wiped a hand against her black leggings and opened the door. “You’re her—”
Only it wasn’t Blake or Bliss at the door. It wasn’t even Rissa. No, the very male visitor standing there, his fist poised to knock again, was someone she didn’t know. But damn, he was someone she probably should get to know.
Swallowing, she plastered a grin on her face and hoped she looked presentable. “Hi.” When he didn’t answer immediately, she swallowed. Maybe the hottie is a creeper? But it wasn’t like she was in some random apartment building. The concierge didn’t just let anyone come up to the top floor.
The stranger’s eyes dropped to her mouth and she absently wiped it with her sleeve, hoping she didn’t have peach cobbler crust on her face.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
He blinked and then blessed her with the sexiest smile she’d ever seen up close. Pretty white teeth, adorably deep dimples, and beautiful creases framing full lips.
“I’m sorry. My name is Bishop.” He held out a hand, presumably for her to shake it.
Her gaze dropped to it, noted his long fingers and clean fingernails, but she made no move to touch him. Not yet.
“I work at Pure Talent,” he continued. “Jax Starks told me about you.”
Paityn’s eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. Bishop Lang.”
Why is my voice so high? Probably because when her godfather told her he wanted her to meet one of the best legal minds on his team, she’d assumed it was an old, graying grandfather. A man that golfed on his off days and spent weekends at some highbrow country club drinking Burnt Martinis or scotch on the rocks. Not this fine ass man with smooth dark skin and a body that made her want to sing, “Do me, Baby”. Because she was sure he’d be able to handle the job in a way no one ever had before. Focus, Paityn.
“Yes, that’s me.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “I live in the building and figured I’d come up and introduce myself.”
Unable to turn away, she nodded. “Right. I think Uncle Jax did tell me that.”
Briefly, she wondered if this was even a good idea, considering she couldn’t stop staring at him. How would she be able to concentrate on business? But she trusted her godfather’s judgment because he had never failed her and always had her best interests at heart.
From an early age, Paityn learned that blood didn’t make family. And it was because of relationships like the one her father and Jax Starks had. The two men had grown up near each other in Detroit, Michigan and had even pledged the same fraternity. They were brothers in every sense of the word, even though they were born to different parents. Jax was her godfather, but he was also her “uncle”.
She finally stepped aside. “Come in.”
He followed her toward the kitchen. “Peach cobbler.” The low groan that followed hit her right in the gut—or lower. “Smells good.”
She gulped down the rest of her wine and dropped the wooden spoon into the sink. “I’m making dinner for my sisters.” She turned the greens off and tried to recall everything her godfather had told her about Bishop. Clearly, she’d missed some things that he’d said. “I thought you were going to be out of town until next week?”
“I got back a little early.”
Paityn leaned against the counter, meeting his intense gaze once again. “Cobbler?” she asked.
He looked down at the dessert and swallowed visibly. Nodding slowly, he said, “No.”
Paityn frowned, surprised at his answer. Normally, a nod meant yes. “You sure? Because you look like you want some.”
“I’m sure.” He glanced at the pan again, before he looked up at her.
Tilting her head, she studied him. Something was preventing him from eating her cobbler. Did she want to know what? Or who? The need to know more welled up inside her. It’s the nature of my job to ask questions. It wasn’t his arms. Or the muscles stretching against the t-shirt he wore. The fact that he may be eating someone else’s pie didn’t bother her either. Well, not really.
Instead of probing further, she decided a change of subject was best. “Uncle Jax tells me you work in the business development department,” she said. “But what else should I know?” Okay, so her attempt to sound professional came out more sultry than businesslike.
“What do mean?” he asked.
Clearing her throat, she added, “Because if we’re going to work together, I’d like to learn a little more about your ass.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, your experience?”
He chuckled. “I can give you the long version, or the short version.”
“Long Beach.”
She opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water and offered him one. “Law school?”
“Berkeley.” He took the water and twisted off the cap. “I’ve worked for the agency for fifteen years, and I’ve been instrumental in negotiating several business deals for agency clients. Jax has also entrusted me with many of his personal business matters.”
“Good. What has he told you about me?”
His mouth curved into a smile. “He mentioned you were important to him and that I should take care of you.”
She bit down on her lip. “I mean, about my business idea.”
“Only that you were a sex therapist looking to start a new venture.”
Paityn grinned, pleased that he didn’t seem uncomfortable with her occupation like some men. “That’s true. Did he tell you anything else?”
Bishop raised a brow. “No. I assume you will tell me the details.”
“Right. I’ll send you the draft of my proposal.” She slid her notebook over and jotted down a note to herself. “I probably should have done this as soon as he gave me your email address, but I didn’t want to interrupt your vacation. I know we always say we won’t check emails on vacation, but we always do.”
Ha barked out a laugh. “I don’t disagree with that.”
“Let me know when you’re free to meet.” She closed the notebook. “I have appointments during the day, but I’m usually free in the evenings.” Paityn conducted her sessions online, via video chat or text therapy, which she’d found to be a great alternative to in-office therapy. Most of her clients loved the convenience and it allowed her to work from the comfort of her home, wherever that was.
“I’ll check my calendar and get back to you. I have your numbers.”
“Great. You’ll have an email tonight. Not that I don’t think you wouldn’t read my proposal before we meet, but you definitely should. And preferably not in the office. In front of people.”
The last thing she wanted was for a picture of her prototype to flash across his screen while he had someone in his office. That would be embarrassing, for him and for her.
Bishop frowned. “Why do I feel like I should be scared?”
Paityn laughed. “Because you should.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Now, I’m curious. Maybe you should give me a hint?”
“I would, but—” A knock on the door interrupted her explanation. “Excuse me. I have to get the door.”
She ran to the door and opened it. Before she could say anything, Blake and Bliss surrounded her, hugging her tightly. Paityn wasn’t overly emotional, but it felt good to hug her sisters, and she held on for longer than normal.
Finally pulling back, she smiled at the twins, noting the tears standing in Bliss’ eyes. She brushed her cheek. “Don’t cry.”
“Please don’t.” Blake rolled her eyes. “It hasn’t even been a month. Get it together.”
“Leave me alone.” Bliss elbowed Blake. “At least I don’t have a black heart.”
Paityn giggled. “Get in here.” She pulled one of the rolling suitcases inside. “Are you hungry?”
Bliss patted her stomach. “You know it.”
“I thought you weren’t cooking,” Blake said.
Paityn led them around the corner into the open living room area. “You know I wasn’t going to let you come here without making your favorites.”
“So, no Cuban food?” Blake asked. “Because I had my mouth set… Oooh wee. This place is gorgeous. Floor-to-ceiling windows, stunning artwork. And I love the color scheme. Everything just flows. Uncle Jax is doing big things.”
Bishop glanced up from his phone and stood. “Hi.”
Blake bit down on her thumbnail. “And apparently so are you,” she muttered under her breath.
“Who is that, sissy?” Bliss whispered.
“And tell me he has a brother,” Blake added.
Paityn rolled her eyes. “Shut up.” She introduced them to Bishop. “He’s an attorney at Pure Talent and he’s helping me with my business.”
“Oh, so you’re helping her with the Big Ass D?” Blake asked, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
Bishop blinked. “Excuse me?”
Paityn glared at Blake. “He doesn’t know about that yet,” she said between clenched teeth. Leave it to her little sister to embarrass the hell out of her. “I’m sorry, Bishop. Don’t mind her.”
“Is that peach cobbler?” Blake asked.
“Yes,” Bliss answered from the kitchen. She lifted the top off the pan. “And there’s greens. And it smells like pulled pork. Yum.”
Paityn shrugged when Bishop met her eyes. “Sisters.”
“Right,” he said. “I should probably get going, let you visit with your sisters. We’ll talk.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
He waved her off. “You don’t have to.”
“I do.” Paityn walked him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She finally reached out to shake his hand.
When their palms met, she couldn’t help but notice how the contact flooded her with warmth, from the tips of her fingers to her shoulders and throughout her body.
“It’s good to meet you, Paityn.” His husky, low voice made her want to lean into him.
She didn’t, though. Slipping her hand from his, she nodded. “Right.”
“I’ll talk to you soon.”
She nodded again. Because apparently she couldn’t form any words.
Once he was safely outside the door, she exhaled. If every interaction with him ended with a handshake that somehow felt more like a kiss or a tender caress against her bare skin… I’m definitely in trouble.
Also by Elle Wright
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Jacksons of Ann Arbor
It’s Always Been You
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Wellspring Series
Touched By You
Enticed By You
Pleasured By You
Pure Talent Series
The Way You Tempt Me
The Way You Hold Me
The Way You Love Me
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Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank God for loving me.
To my husband and children, thank you for being my light, my everything. I love you so much.
To my sista friends, my lit sisters, you ROCK! You’re amazing and I’m so blessed to know you!
A special shout-out to the amazing readers , bloggers, and awesome writers that I’ve met on this journey. Thanks for your support. I appreciate you!
About the Author
There was never a time when Elle Wright wasn’t about to start a book, wasn't already deep in a book—or had just finished one. She grew up believing in the importance of reading, and became a lover of all things romance when her mother gave her her first romance novel. She lives in Michigan.
Connect with Elle!
www.ellewright.com
info@ellewright.com