“For...?” This definitely wasn’t real, because he had no idea what she meant.
“Until you lose this place.”
“Is it that obvious?”
She rested the bag on the floor. “Probably not to most people, but you tend to wear a look of permanent gloom. And your shelves are a little barren.”
“It’s been better, but it’s been worse, too.” The gloomy look was only partly related to the shop, but he didn’t want to share with this almost stranger. Hell, he didn’t know if he wanted to share much of anything with her. Like that her purchase would pay his power bill next month.
“As long as you’re going to be around for a while. We need more places like yours.”
Something about the way she phrased the statement snapped his leash on propriety—or maybe it was because he was dealing with so much. “Actually, business sucks. I’ve got a year at the outside, and that’s only if I cut my own salary and manage to keep renters in the two apartments on the middle floor.” Not a lot of reliable renters wanted to live above a comic book store. “There’s an option on the table, but I have to make some concessions that aren’t mine to make, in order to take it. And that’s only if I even wanted to.”
“Can I ask what kind of option?”
“You can see for yourself if you want.” It wasn’t appropriate for him to talk money with anyone but his accountant, but he didn’t care anymore. He plucked Elliot’s contract from the stack of paperwork and slid it across the counter.
She grabbed the contract and skimmed it. Occasionally she raised her brows, or made a clucking noise with her tongue. A few minutes later, she handed it back. “You’re thinking about signing this?”
“It doesn’t matter whether or not I want to. The offer isn’t valid without—” He snapped his mouth shut before he could spill more. He really didn’t want to get into anything about Tori. His business was his to talk about, but he didn’t have any right to spill her life.
“I read the last few pages. If that wasn’t a condition, would you sign so much away?”
He knew what she was talking about. Even though the contract said all he had to do now was give the comic company top billing in his shop, that he didn’t have to get rid of anyone else’s books or toys, there was a loophole that could eventually turn the shop into whatever Elliot’s company wanted. “I need the money. They’re offering a steady revenue stream. The possibility of them forcing me out eventually is better than being forced out now.”
“Is it really?”
His gut sank. No, it wasn’t. But he didn’t have another choice.
“That’s what I thought,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Since he’d pretty much told her everything already, he wasn’t sure what it would hurt.
“Why haven’t you ever expanded?”
He stared at her for a moment, looking for a hint she was joking. Had she missed the rest of the conversation? “If I can’t afford one store—and I own the property here—how am I supposed to open a second one?”
“You misunderstand. You’re a talented chef; those bean-paste buns the other day were incredible. Have you seen those milk-and-tea shops popping up around the country?”
“I’ve heard a little.” Some of the people in anime club had talked about one in Detroit, after getting back from a convention there. The place had been modeled after a similar trend in Japan. The waiters and waitresses all wore costumes, and the entire thing was supposed to be a combination of good food, a fun atmosphere, and a feeling of being in Japan without having to leave the US.
“The house is already wired for electricity and has water. You’ve got kitchens in each apartment, and you have access to a brilliant costume designer. What’s stopping you from adding something like that to your store?”
The idea hadn’t occurred to him. That was the first thing stopping him. But now that it was bouncing in his head... The brilliant costume designer he knew wouldn’t have anything to do with him. And he wasn’t even worried about the business implications.
How was he going to make things right? He tucked the thought away as best he could—which wasn’t really at all—to get back to the conversation. “I don’t have any space for something like a café.”
She nodded at the series of tables at the far end of the room, and another ache tore through him with the memory of his first time with Tori. God, he missed her.
He swallowed back the thought. “I like to keep it in reserve, in case anyone wants to tabletop game.”
“So set up a few smaller tables, some more chairs, and let them use some of them if anyone has the urge. You’ve got room behind the counter for an espresso machine. Install a sandwich press or microwave, or serve those rice balls and such cold.”
The idea was tempting. The more she talked, the more he liked it. But that didn’t mean it was practical. “Even if I wanted to do it, I can’t afford those kinds of changes. Not now.”
“I’ll invest.” She didn’t hesitate.
“I... Uh... What?” He couldn’t have heard her right. “This isn’t the kind of venture you make a lot of money from.”
“I’m not in it for the money, though I certainly won’t complain about the return.” She nodded toward the bag at her feet. “I told you, we need more places like this. I get tired of diner food. This gives me a new place to stop for a cup of coffee, because now that I’ve been in here, I’m going to blow most of my wallet on toys until Brad stops me.
“Besides, invest probably wasn’t the right word. Think of it more as a loan. I’ll be a silent partner as long as you’re making your monthly payments, and in five years, you’ll be out of debt if you run things right.”
“So what makes your offer better than this one?” He nodded at the contract on the counter. “No offense, but how do I know I’m any safer with you?”
“Smart man. No wonder Tori likes you. We’ll put it all in writing, have a lawyer look it over, and it’ll all be in the contract. You don’t sign unless you’re comfortable with it.”
It was too good to be true, but that didn’t stop him from clinging to the idea. He wanted it, and he liked it, and he only saw one other issue with it. “I don’t have access to a costume designer, though.” Didn’t she already know that?
“I thought...” She pursed her lips. “I won’t ask for details. But regardless of what happened between the two of you, I’ll be your go-between. Contract her independently. I hear from a reliable source she’s doing that now. You can do it without her, too. But she’s got skill, and your wait staff would look good in her outfits.”
Tori did have skill. He never denied that. He also couldn’t deny that, regardless of how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. “Give me some time to think about it.”
“You know where to find me when you decide. Don’t take too long.”
“Or the offer expires?” His body tensed.
She gave him a look he could only describe as confounded. “Or you won’t have a shop left to expand. You already told me your time was short.”
“Right.” He leaned back against the counter. “Of course. I’ll let you know soon.”
TORI PACED THE LENGTH of her condo. She was surprised she hadn’t worn a rut in the floor yet. Almost two weeks of her new consulting position, and she was going out of her mind with boredom. She needed to reach out to some commission contacts. She needed to dive more into the search. Her gaze fell on the dress form in the corner and the costume hanging next to it, from Riley’s book launch.
She needed to get over an entire chapter of her life. What had she been thinking? Sleeping with a guy she wasn’t dating, daydreaming about making what she wanted instead of what people paid for, wishing she had a life she wasn’t meant for. An unwanted wave of sorrow swept over her. She wanted Archer back.
No, she didn’t. She was fine. She’d get over him. She didn’t miss him so much it kept her up at night and made every bit of her ache from the memories.
<
br /> A knock echoed through her apartment, and her heart leaped. Would it be Archer? Stupid, stupid thought. Why would she want to see him? If it was him, the conversation wouldn’t last long.
Disappointment flickered through her when she saw Riley.
“I know I’m not who you want to see, but I have to apologize.” Riley’s smile was weak.
Tori let her in and turned away. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did. I egged him on. I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sorry.”
Damn it. Tori had managed to hold back the tears for a couple of days. She didn’t need them coming back now. She blinked away the sting in her eyelids before facing Riley again. “At least I found out now. Before anything happened.”
Like the confession of love he made a few hours after. Or a commitment, since she’d already given everything else to him. She choked back a sob. No, she hadn’t. She was being melodramatic.
So then, why did it hurt so much?
“I guess.” Riley traced a finger around her collar. “I was also wondering if you’d be willing to take a commission from me?”
Commission. The word stuck in Tori’s brain. It didn’t wipe away the sorrow, but it did distract her for a moment. “For...?”
“We have pictures posted on the website of the release party, and the comments and e-mails are starting to choke the servers.” Riley laughed. “I need to know if you can make me more outfits. Charge me whatever you normally would, and I’d love your input on new designs. I need a couple for giveaways. And maybe more than a couple of the collars. People really love those.”
She couldn’t be hearing right. Actual creative work? She wanted to assure Riley it was okay, she’d make them and only charge for materials, but the business part of her brain kicked in, and for once, Tori allowed it full rein. “I’ll give you a discount if you link back to me.”
“Do you have something to link back to? Because I would do that in a heartbeat.” Riley tugged her toward the couch, a glint sparkling in her blue eyes. “Are you going full time? What about your job?”
Tori pulled away. She’d never been a fan of how physical Riley was. Today, it was an even more painful reminder of Archer and all the things Tori must have done wrong. Of all the ways she was different from Riley.
She dropped into an easy chair across from Riley. “I’ve scaled back on my at-work responsibilities.”
“Are you serious? That’s amazing. Working for yourself, charging more, and getting paid every time someone makes an order.”
Except ninety-nine percent of her customers came from the one place she was never stepping foot in again. Her sorrow returned in a single rush. She fiddled with the edge of the cushion beneath her. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“You and Zane. How did you know?”
Riley shifted in her seat, not meeting Tori’s gaze. “We’ve both known for a long time, but we were really good at ignoring it. One day, it hit me, and I had to tell him. Not saying something—the regret associated with it—would slowly consume my soul and sanity.”
And Tori thought she was melodramatic. Despite the fact she wanted to be disgusted by the sappiness, she adored it. And she hated herself for not being capable of the same thing.
“I’m sorry.” Riley flopped back against the couch. “That probably doesn’t help you any. I overheard everything you said to Archer. I know you’ve already told him, and he threw it back at you.”
Tori winced. She hadn’t told him, though. She’d said she didn’t want to share him with Riley’s memory. Beyond that, she’d never told him how much she wanted him, or how he haunted her dreams. This was the first time she’d even allowed herself to dwell on the idea of love.
“You never told him.” Riley’s voice was flat.
“I did.” Tori’s defensiveness kicked in on instinct. “Sort of. I said a lot of other things. He could have assumed.”
“Oh, he’s good at that. But never trust him to assume the right thing.”
“Like you’re so perfect?”
Riley held up her hands. “Not even close. It’s an opinion. But if you never told him, you really can’t expect him to know. You can’t expect that from anyone.”
“What am I going to do?” Tori leaned her head back, to stare at the ceiling.
A few seconds later, Riley’s face appeared in front of her, looking down, compassion in her eyes. “I have a lot of opinions, and normally I’d give them to you, but it doesn’t matter what I think. You have to do what you want to do.”
Tori cringed, and the pain inside throbbed as much as it had the day it moved in. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, but it wasn’t practical. Any of it. Especially since she didn’t know if she could trust Archer again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Archer slumped in his desk chair. He was glad Derrek was on the clock today, watching the front counter. With any luck, he could keep it that way a bit longer. He stared at the paperwork in front of him. He had Gwen draw up a contract. His lawyer looked at it—he’d be paying that bill off for a while—and it was all legit. Except for the bit about the costumes. The details weren’t in the contract. How he got them was up to him. Gwen had offered again to talk to Tori, if he no longer had that option.
But he had to give it another try. He had to call Tori. No, he had to show up on her doorstep again. Not because of the business stuff; they could talk about that later. If there was a chance. He had to... What?
A knock cut through his thoughts before they could build steam, and he looked up. His heart leaped when he saw Tori, and then plummeted at her flat expression.
She wore a denim skirt that only reached halfway down her thighs, and her T-shirt hugged every inch of her torso perfectly. And she was very distinctly keeping her distance, as much as was possible in the small room. The corners of her eyes tugged down. “Can we talk?”
Yes. Definitely yes. He gestured to a chair. “Have a seat.”
She closed the door and leaned against it, instead of sitting.
“Tori, I’m so, so—”
“Me first.” Her voice wavered. “Please, let me say what I need to. If you really have to interrupt, I can’t stop you, but I need to get this out.”
The empty pit, which had moved into his chest, wasn’t sure what to do. Moan some more about being empty or slink away. He gave her a small smile. “Of course.”
She clenched and unclenched her hand. “I love you.” The words tumbled out in a single blur.
He couldn’t have heard her right. Should he ask her to repeat herself? Was he projecting? He didn’t get a chance to reply.
She stood straighter. “I love you.” There was no mistaking the words that time. They echoed in the tiny box of a room. “It’s not something I can simply cut off. And I know I wasn’t supposed to fall, it was just supposed to be sex, and I did anyway, and it—you mean so much more to me than a couple of tumbles. When I said I didn’t want any ghosts between us, I should have been more specific, and that’s my fault, but I’m telling you now, and I meant it, and I mean this and... Do with it what you will. But I had to tell you.”
The empty pit slid away, something bright taking its place. There was still an ache, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t a bad one. He wasn’t positive—it was a new sensation for him—but he was willing to give it a chance. He was on his feet in an instant, stepping toward her. “You know I love you, too.”
“There’s a problem though.” She held up a hand and rested her palm flat on his chest, and stopped him from closing the distance. The flatness was gone from her expression, replaced with a frown. That didn’t look right. “I miss you desperately, and I love you so much, and I still don’t know how to fix this thing between us.”
The words dug deep. He wanted to argue. Wanted to fall to his knees and insist there was no one but her. He wrapped his fingers around the delicate hand on his chest and pulled it away, not letting go and not stepping closer. A bit of relief joined
his frustration when she didn’t yank away from his touch.
“I love you so much, and I would do anything for you. I meant what I said the other night.” He poured all of his sincerity into the words.
The hard lines in her forehead softened, and a smile crept onto her face. She moved nearer to him.
His hope poked its head again and peered around. He pressed forward. “I was wrong. About Riley, about Elliot... about so much. And I want to make it up to you, if you give me a chance.”
“I guess.” Her tone was reluctant, but her seductive smirk contradicted it. She draped her arms around his neck and nudged him back with her body. “If you really want to make it up to me, I know a good way to start.”
He rested his hands at the small of her back, holding her captive. Every nerve in his body came alive, raw from the sudden shift in moods, and looking for an outlet. He dipped his head and kissed her hard, crushing his lips against his teeth, and memorizing each curve and contour pressed against him. They broke apart with a gasp. “You know Derrek’s not that far away, right?” he asked.
“And your point is? What happened to doing anything?”
He nipped at her shoulder. He adored how wicked she was. “I still will. Anything you tell me.”
“I’m aware.” She tilted her head back, giving him easier access to her neck. She sighed when he kissed up the soft skin. “I missed this.”
He had, too. Everything about her, from her soft scent to the sounds that tore from her throat, made him want to strip her down, push her on the desk, and make her scream. But it was more important to draw the moment out and give her whatever she asked for.
She tugged at the bottom of his shirt, scraping his waist with her nails and sending tremors of want through him. “This is in the way.”
He tugged the shirt over his head, not caring when he felt something on it give and tear, and then tossed it aside.
She looked him over, brown eyes appreciative. “Better.” She trailed her fingers along his bare chest, making his pulse scream. With every light kiss she placed on his skin, his cock grew another degree harder. When she flicked her tongue out and brushed his nipple, he thought he might explode.
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