Hard Rules

by Lisa Renee Jones

  SHANE

  I wake on the couch where Emily has fallen asleep on top of me, the dim lights I never turned off glowing around us. I hear her murmuring, “No. No. No. It can’t be true. No!”

  “Emily, sweetheart,” I say, stroking her hair.

  “No! No, I—”

  “Emily,” I say more firmly. “You’re having a nightmare.”

  She jerks up, her hand pressed to my chest, her naked body draped over mine. “What happened?” She shuts her eyes. “Nightmare. It was a nightmare, right?”

  “Yes. Do you have them often?”

  “Yes. What time is it?”

  I glance at my watch. “Three o’clock in the morning.”

  “I … should go.”

  I tighten my arm around her waist. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.” And I’m surprised at how vehemently I say those words and mean them. “Not unless you plan on me going with you.”

  Her eyes flicker with some emotion I want to name but never get the chance. She eases back down, pressing her cheek to my chest. I rest my hand on her head and back, capturing one of her legs with mine. “You want to talk about it?”

  “No,” she says, her fingers curling in my chest hair. “I most definitely do not want to talk about it.”

  My nature is to press for answers, and I want to know Emily inside and out, but I read people well, and if I push her too hard, she will run again. I settle for holding her, listening to her breathing slow, reveling in the feel of holding her close, this woman who has taken me by storm and managed to be the cool breeze in the midst of my personal hell. Only when I am certain she’s asleep do I shut my eyes and let my mind go to the place it resists. I can only assume that Derek is watching me as I am him, and he’ll know Emily was here. The question is, how will he handle that information? My mind starts chasing the possibilities, and I lose myself in my thoughts. They fade into the sound of her breathing and the darkness that transforms into the past.

  It’s only one week before college entrance exams and I get the flipping flu and then manage to lose my house key. Feeling like absolute hell is not the time to do this shit. I walk around the back of the house where I hope the door is unlocked. It might not be, considering my brother is off at college, my mother is off on some girls’ weekend trip, and my father is never home. I reach for the knob, and hell yes! It’s open. I enter the house, and head straight to the kitchen for something to drink, stopping dead in my tracks. I blink, not sure I’m seeing what is in front of me. But I am. Our neighbor, and my friend’s mother, is naked on our counter and my father’s pants are around his ankles while he bangs her.

  “You sorry son of a bitch,” I growl, turning away before I beat the shit out of him, and leave the house. Fighting the urge to turn back around and pound him, I take off running, and I don’t stop until the nausea hits me a good few blocks away. I turn the corner and enter a park. I find a tree to collapse underneath before dialing Derek and hoping like hell he’s not in class.

  “What’s up, brother?” he answers.

  “I just walked in on Dad fucking our neighbor.”

  “Oh shit man. Congrats.”

  “Congrats? What the fuck is that, Derek?”

  “You just scored hush money, or that Mustang Cobra you wanted.”

  “Hush money?”

  “How do you think I got my Porsche? I know something he doesn’t want me to tell.”

  “You think this is okay?”

  “It is what it is, Shane. You’ll figure that out in time. When something goes wrong, find a way to get something out of it. Take the Mustang and keep your mouth shut.”

  I come back to the present in a rush of sunlight and the sound of my cell phone ringing. I inhale Emily’s sweet scent, and feel the knot of guilt lodged in my chest for never telling my mother about that day. I wonder if she’d have really cared any more than she does today. The ringing stops and I glance at my watch. Seven A.M. That, and Emily’s naked body pressed to mine, inspire me to close my eyes and attempt to go back to sleep. The ringing starts again, the persistence upping the chances it’s Seth and thus important. Reluctantly, I ease Emily off me, her naked breasts brushing my hand. Her soft moan is pure sex that has my body thickening in uncomfortable demand.

  “It’s daylight,” Emily murmurs groggily, rolling into my spot as I stand. “How did it get to be daylight?”

  “Good question,” I say, grabbing my phone off the end table, checking my screen to find my caller is indeed Seth, and I’ve missed him again.

  “Waking up to your naked ass is quite possibly the best thing ever,” Emily declares, sounding much more awake now.

  Smiling, I step into my pants, turning to face her. “You can prove it in a few minutes. I need to make a call.” I don’t wait for a reply, hitting the redial button and heading for the stairs, only to have the line go direct to voice mail. “Call me back,” I say at the beep, stuffing my cell back into my pocket and walking into the bathroom.

  Once I’m there, I shut the door, take care of the necessities, including brushing my teeth, and then dial Seth again, and just like before, his voice mail picks up. Intending to return to Emily, I turn and open the door to find her standing just outside in my T-shirt.

  “You have to leave, because I have to pee like a Russian racehorse and I already committed to this bathroom.”

  Laughing, I step past her to enter the bedroom. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a woman say anything remotely close to that.”

  “My father used to say it,” she calls over her shoulder, before turning to face me. “I forgot it’s not really ladylike, but…” Shadows cloud her blue eyes. “It was my father’s thing.” She shuts the door.

  Unmoving, I stare at the place she was moments before, remembering her nightmare. With her father on her mind, it seems a good guess that he might have been at its core. And while that might or might not be true, I do believe her claim that she understands what I feel with my father more than anyone, besides perhaps Derek. She gets me in a way I’ve never allowed anyone to get me, and I don’t remember when I ever decided to let her. Holy hell, what am I doing with this woman, and why can’t I stop? My cell phone starts ringing and I shake off the thought, digging it from my pocket and heading back down the stairs.

  “Talk to me,” I order.

  “The equipment’s installed and I’ve targeted several employees I think can be bought. I should have answers later today.”

  I enter the kitchen and make a beeline to the coffeepot and flip the switch I had set to go off in an hour. “I need answers today.”

  “I know it’s urgent.”

  “Today, Seth,” I say, pressing my hands to the counter. “The cancer has moved to his lungs. He could fall apart at any moment and right now Derek would claim control. I can’t let that happen. And without Mike Rogers on our side, I need to deal with the rest of the stockholders.”

  “We have a plan for them.”

  “If it’s as good as the one for Riker, we don’t have shit.”

  “Riker and the trucking company are both targets for Martina’s operation. That means he was on Derek’s radar way before us. The others won’t be.”

  “You don’t know that. I told you. Don’t underestimate my brother or my father. I can’t wait for you to handle this. You need to handpick select people from your security team and get them to the other key stockholders.”

  “I don’t trust anyone to handle this but me. Give me until tonight before you make me do that.”

  My jaw clenches. “Fine. Tonight.” I end the call and set the phone down, rotating to find Emily standing in the entryway. “How much of that did you hear?”

  She walks toward me, joining me on this side of the island to lean on it next to me. “Too much, I think.”

  At least she’s honest. “How much of an ass do you think I am now?”

  “I don’t think you’re an asshole, Shane.”

  I rub the stubble on my jaw. “Then you must not have heard
it all.”

  “I’m pretty sure I did and this is no different than a courtroom brawl. You’re at war and war is not pleasant.” She glances at the pot. “Please tell me that isn’t as thick and strong as car oil.”

  “It’s a Starbucks blend.” She moves toward the pot and I drag her to me. “Why are you not asking questions?”

  “I don’t need to ask questions.”

  “Because you don’t want me to ask you questions?”

  “I might be guilty of that at times, but not this time. I’ve met Derek. I’ve looked into his eyes and into yours, and you’re the better man. You need to win and more so, I understand what you’re going through. I know how family can gut you.”

  “Gut” is a powerful word and I’m not sure if we’re talking about her father, or something more, but I stick with one piece of the puzzle at a time. “How old were you when your father died?”

  “When he killed himself?” She doesn’t wait for a reply. “Fourteen and he was…”

  “He was what?”

  She cuts her gaze away and her fingers flex into my chest, as if she’s pushing me away, but she doesn’t. “Nothing,” she murmurs, not looking at me. “I need that coffee.”

  I hold on to her, and damn it to hell, I want to push, but I check myself and release her. She is quick to step away from me, moving to the coffeepot. I join her and reach to the cabinet above her head, pulling out two generic mugs and setting them on the counter. There is something about having her here with me in my kitchen that is right in a way I’ve never let myself—or even wanted to—experience. She reaches for the pot, but I step between her and it, shackling her hips and aligning our bodies. “Remember when I said I don’t do relationships?”

  “Or two dogs and six kids.”

  My lips quirk. “Six kids?”

  “Six dogs?”

  “You’re crazy, woman.”

  “Because I haven’t had coffee,” she jokes, but then turns somber. “In all seriousness though, Shane. I still get it. No relationship. Just sex. I get that this isn’t a good time for you.”

  “It’s never been a good time for me, Emily, and that extends to well before I moved back to Denver.”

  “I understand.”

  “No. You don’t. I don’t do relationships, but I seem to do you, and us, exceptionally well.” I cup her face. “Spend the weekend with me.”

  “What?”

  “Spend the weekend with me. I have to get some work done, but I can do it here. We’ll hide out, order room service, and stay naked as much as possible.”

  “Naked. Well, since you put it that way.”

  My lips curve with approval. “All right then. One more question. Coffee first or sex first?”

  Her eyes light with amusement. “I hear coffee makes sex better.”

  “Coffee it is,” I say, releasing her and reaching for the pot to fill our cups.

  “Please tell me you have cream and sugar.”

  “Plenty of both.” I open the cabinet and set two boxes in front of her.

  “Thanks,” she says, eyeing the boxes before emptying several packets of sugar into her cup. “You mentioned work you have to do. I can help you if you’ll let me.”

  “If you don’t mind researching drug companies and marketable products, I’d love the extra set of hands.”

  “I don’t mind at all. The whole pharmaceutical side of things sounds interesting, but I do need to run to my apartment and grab some clothes and my flat iron. I can’t be a frizzy mess with the same clothes on all weekend.” She sets her cup down. “In fact, I should go do that now and get it over with.”

  “I’ll drive you,” I offer, certain I can get us in and out of here with more discretion by car than on foot. And I’m damn sure not blurting out a warning about Derek—that needs to be well timed and thoughtful.

  “I can walk,” she says, her hands settling at the back of her hips. “I’ll just run to my place and come back here.”

  “It makes sense for me to drive you,” I insist.

  “It makes sense for me to walk and avoid the hassle of getting the car from the garage.”

  I narrow my eyes on her. “You really don’t want me at your apartment, do you?”

  Her cheeks flush. “It’s barely furnished, Shane. It’s embarrassing.”

  I step to her, my hands settling on her waist, hers on my chest. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.”

  “Your world is not my world.”

  “Considering you’re in my T-shirt, that’s debatable, but for now, you need clothes.” I release her and pick up my phone from the counter to punch the button for Tai. “A problem easily solved.”

  “Solved how?” she asks, stepping to me, her hands urgently settling at my waist. “What are you doing, Shane?”

  “Mr. Brandon,” Tai answers. “What can I do for you?”

  “Morning, Tai,” I say, sliding my hand to her back and molding her close. “Emily needs a weekend wardrobe.”

  “No!” she hisses softly. “No, I do not.”

  “Running gear and casual attire,” I continue as if she hasn’t spoken.

  “Of course,” he replies. “I can send some things up from our spa immediately. Her shoe size would be helpful.”

  I eye Emily. “What size shoes?”

  “Shane. No.”

  I cover the phone. “Sweetheart. We’re doing this. What size?”

  A conflicted look flickers over her face. “Seven.”

  “Seven,” I repeat to Tai, “and she wants a flat iron and whatever you think she might need this weekend.”

  “Give me a half an hour.”

  “Perfect.” I end the call as Emily shoves away from me, holding up her hands stop-sign fashion.

  “I’ll let you drive me to my apartment,” she declares. “I’m sorry. You were right. I’m a crazy person. Please. Call him back.”

  “I’m not calling him back.”

  “I have my own clothes.”

  I gently shackle her wrist and close the distance between us. “And I prefer you naked. Actually, maybe I should call back and throw the rest of your clothes on top of the lights outside.”

  “I’m serious, Shane,” she warns.

  “So am I.” My cell phone rings again and I cup her face, kissing her hard and fast, and set her away from me to look at the caller ID. “I wish like hell I could drown this thing for the weekend,” I say, punching the answer button. “Why are you calling on a Saturday, Jessica?”

  “‘Thank you for working Saturdays, Jessica. Your dedication is commendable, Jessica, and you come through even when your boss is being an asshole.’ There’s a penthouse apartment that’s releasing to the market this afternoon in the heart of Cherry Creek. It’s amazing, Shane, and it’ll be gone in a blink. You have to go look at it. It has everything. Shopping. Food. A doorman. A balcony to rival the one you have now. I’m trying to convince them to give you a preview showing today.”

  “Today? That’s not happening. Set it up for Monday.”

  “If I can convince him to do today, someone else can as well. It has to be today. I’m e-mailing you the photos I just took. The realtor can see you in the next hour if you can be there. Call me after you look at it, but I think this is the one. Make the time, Shane.”

  I grab my MacBook where it’s sitting on the island and open it. “If I like the photos I’ll go see it.”

  “I wouldn’t be on the phone right now if I didn’t know you were going to like the photos.”

  Of course, she wouldn’t. This is Jessica. “I’ll let you know,” I say, ending the call and setting my phone next to my computer.

  Emily offers me my cup of coffee. “I warmed it up,” she says, the tiny act of intimacy I’ve avoided with other women remarkably welcome with her.

  I accept it, the touch of our hands electric in a way I’m truly not accustomed to beyond the moment before sex. “Thank you,” I say, the air thickening around us.

  “Of course,” she murmurs, he
r teeth scraping her bottom lip. “Why are you arguing with Jessica?”

  “Because that’s what we do,” I say, taking a drink before setting the cup down and pulling up my e-mail.

  “She’s pretty fiery.”

  “What she is,” I say, “is a pain in my ass who’s insisting I look at a property today.” I find the photos Jessica has sent, download them, and angle the computer so we can both see them. “What do you think?” I ask, tabbing through shots of a blue glass building and an apartment with enough windows to make this one look like it needs light.

  “I freaking love it. We both know you want out of this hotel and the ties that bind you here. You have to go look at it.”

  She’s right. I do and I want to take her with me, which I can’t fairly do without her understanding that we’re under my family’s scrutiny. I face her, and she responds by doing the same with me, both of us resting an arm on the counter. “Go with me to look at the apartment.” The doorbell rings and I grimace at the poorly timed interruption I should have anticipated. “That will be your clothes.” I’ve barely said the words when my cell starts ringing again and I grab it to glance at the screen. “And that would be my mother.”

  “I’ll get the door,” Emily says, already moving away, but I catch her arm, cup her head, and give her a deep, fast kiss.

  “Now you can get the door,” I say, releasing her to answer my call. “You’re up early this morning, Mother.”

  “I don’t like it either, but it happens on occasion.”

  “Well, since it happened and you called me, I hope this means you have information on Mike Rogers.”

  “I’m working on it, but I thought we should talk about your father’s new assistant, Emily.”

  It’s almost comical how fast my family works. “You offered her fifty thousand dollars to be a snitch and she declined,” I say, making it clear Emily is more than just in my bed. She’s in my ear. I’m claiming her with the intent of backing Derek the fuck off.

  “While I commend your innovation, son, your brother knows she’s with you this morning. She’s no longer your secret source of information and he’s already planning to feed her a load of crap to repeat to you.”

  Derek’s words from my dream come back to me. When something goes wrong, find a way to get something out of it. And I just did. I can assure Emily that Derek now sees her as a resource, not a target. “Does Father know?”