The Sky of Endless Blue

by Ava Miles

  Eager now, his moment of hesitation behind him, he peeled off her top, his hands quickly finding her breasts. She sighed in pure delight, leaning in to his touch, and let the noise in her mind fade as he stroked her bare skin. The knots in her belly turned to languid flutters. Yes, this was what they needed. To simply be. Together.

  When he kissed the side of her neck, she raised her face to find his lips. He took her mouth gently at first, and then his control snapped. He fed on her, gripping her hips to bring her closer yet. She let her hands clench his back as she met his force with her own. There was power here now. And urgency. She wanted it all, she realized.

  He stripped off the rest of her clothes and removed his own. His naked body was a delight, and tonight her belly was burning with want for him. She lay back on the bed with her hand extended to him, beckoning to him, and he came toward her and pressed his full length against her.

  She released a moan, savoring the skin contact, and then fisted her hands in his hair as he kissed her again. The slide of his tongue was pure magic, the press of his knee to her core totally hot and welcome. She opened her legs and felt him leave the bed for a condom before he returned.

  Connecting their hands, he slid inside her. Gently at first. And then with more force. Their eyes met, and she could see a new glimmer in his gaze. She was his light, and he was hers. Their hearts thundered with the knowledge as he started to thrust.

  She wrapped her legs around him, urging him on, and he levered back and began to take her harder—exactly as she wanted. Their hands still gripped together, she pressed her head back into the pillow, feeling the build, knowing she was about to come.

  Then he pressed hard and deep, and she cried out. He followed her over the edge, breathing hard in her ear. She floated on a sea of sweat and heat, trusting everything she felt between them. Whatever came, she would be with him. That she knew.

  They would get through it together.

  When he rolled away from her, she gave him a moment to clean up, but within moments she was nestled against him. They lay that way for a long time.

  “I love you,” he finally whispered. “So much.”

  “Me too,” she said.

  There was nothing else to say.

  Chapter 19

  Chase and Evan showed up the next morning with matching scowls on their faces.

  J.T. had spent the night with Caroline, and he’d barely arrived at the rental before they did. Evan had texted him about the meeting, which was the only reason he’d left Caroline. Despite all the trouble surrounding them, their relationship felt solid. In her arms, he found a sense of peaceful calm, oddly similar to how he felt when he walked through a breathtaking museum. They still had so much to learn about each other, but somehow it felt like he’d known her his whole life.

  “Sounds like you’re in boiling water right now,” Evan said. “Why is it that I had to hear about it from Trevor last night?”

  Trevor closed his computer as they walked into the den. His brother inclined his chin as if deferring to him.

  “I was with Caroline.”

  “Tough to keep a relationship going in a crisis,” Chase said.

  “We’re managing,” he said. “Trev has been helping on the crisis front.” After their harsh words, he wanted his brother to know he was still grateful for his help.

  “Your brother shouldn’t be allowed to drink with normal humans,” Evan said, rubbing his temples. “I had to ask Chase to drive me home last night.”

  “I was with Moira,” Chase explained as they all migrated to the kitchen.

  Trevor poured everyone an espresso, and they took seats around the table—he and Trev sitting across from the two men. “I'm guessing we all need the extra kick today. Especially Evan.”

  “Your brother is funny even if he is a drinking mutant,” Evan commented. “If I could clone him—”

  “Stay the hell away, mad inventor,” Trevor said with a laugh.

  J.T. was ready to get down to business. “Please tell me Cynthia hasn’t struck at Infinity Energy. I can’t take much more bad news.”

  “No, actually,” Chase said, adding a sugar cube to his espresso from the bowl on the table.

  “No offense to the environment or your vision for clean energy,” Trev said, “but Sin City knows J.T. cares a hell of a lot more about art.”

  Evan held up a hand. “No offense taken.”

  “I’m damn glad of that actually,” Chase said. “No offense.”

  “All right,” J.T. said. “So why are you here?”

  “One word,” Evan said, then paused to sip his espresso. “Artemis.”

  Ah, now he understood why Trev had invited Evan over after their drinking session last night. “I don’t think it’s in jeopardy. You have offices on campus and are fully recognized by the university.”

  “That could change,” Evan said, nudging Chase. “Your turn. We had a pow-wow after I talked to Trevor last night.”

  “He mostly made sense, but I’m used to deciphering his gibberish. Evan and I are going to pay a call to the new university president and let him know we’re concerned he’s not following through on projects the board of trustees has already agreed to. We’ll do the dance and note that if this can happen to you—”

  “Our good friend,” Evan said, toasting him with his cup.

  “Then it could happen to us and any number of other donors or groups,” Chase finished. “We’ll see if that rattles him.”

  J.T. was overwhelmed by the gesture. It struck him that he was nowhere near as alone as he sometimes felt. First, Uncle Arthur and his crew had offered to help, and now Evan and Chase were stepping up too. “Thank you. I’ve been fighting Cynthia for so long that I sometimes forget there are other people who can help—besides Trev.”

  They hadn’t done much more than grunt at each other since he’d returned this morning, but his brother hadn’t given him the silent treatment either. Caroline was right. They would work it out.

  “Sounds like Dr. Matthau is a problem,” Chase said. “I’m looking forward to taking him down a peg.”

  “Wish I could be a fly on the wall,” Trev said.

  “I could record it,” Evan said, giving his brother what J.T. thought was a leading nod. “I have this special little device James Bond would sell his Aston Martin for. You pin it on your lapel, and it records perfect video and audio. Mine is in the shape of a fleur-de-lis.”

  Of course it was. Evan was a Paris lover through and through. The two of them had debated Rome versus Paris many times in their meetings.

  “In fact, along those lines, Trev said your ex has been calling you.” He looked him straight in the eye. “Have you thought about recording those conversations?”

  Trev kicked back in his chair, acting as if he hadn’t a care in the world, and J.T. wanted to snarl at him for encouraging Evan to do his dirty work. “We talked about it when I first filed for divorce. I didn’t want to do it then, and I don’t want to do it now.”

  Chase drummed his fingers on the table. “Not even if it gives you leverage?”

  “In what?” He wanted to kick Trev’s chair back. “The he-said-she-said game doesn’t hold up in court, especially between people who were married. I would think you of all people would know that, Chase.” The man had been taken to the cleaners and then some by his ex-wife.

  “It was only a suggestion,” Evan said, turning his espresso cup in a circle.

  J.T. shot Trev a dirty look. “Next time ask me yourself.”

  “Fine.” His brother sat up and crossed his arms.

  “Let’s move on then,” Chase said after a tense moment. “Trevor told Evan you plan on entertaining a select group of trustees from the board, and I thought it might be helpful if Evan and I showed up at your dinner parties too. You know, since you donated so much money to Infinite Energy, which could certainly benefit from the genius inventors to come out of the Artemis Institute, the university’s new pride and joy.”

  J.T. liked wher
e he was headed with this. “I’d love that. Thank you.”

  “Good,” Evan said. “While you’re feeling warm and fuzzy toward us, I have to ask. What about the bribery accusations?”

  J.T. nodded. “I’d want to know too in your place. Cynthia has no evidence.”

  “I’m making sure she isn’t stirring the pot anywhere, so to speak.” Trev cracked his knuckles. “I’ve got my people on it.”

  “You mean ours,” J.T. said. He didn’t want to know what their older brothers had said. It likely had involved a lot of bad words.

  “No, I mean mine. You forget. I work in even more dangerous and corrupt parts of the world than you did.”

  He wasn’t going to argue that, although Transparency International’s annual corruption report might show otherwise.

  “That’s reassuring,” Chase said. “We want to make sure none of this blows onto Infinite Energy.”

  Shit. He’d been so caught up in his anger and guilt, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Clearly Trevor had.

  “Right. If my name is sullied, people might think I’m bringing my shady business practices to your new enterprise.”

  It struck him that the joint dinner parties weren’t just a show of solidarity—they were damage control. Trev stared him down. Ah, his brother was ahead of him. He really needed to get his head into the game.

  “We’ll start with Bruce Frenshaw and his wife,” Trevor said. “They’re long-time art lovers who live in the valley. From what I know, Bruce has ambitions to be on the executive council. I expect Dr. Slimeball is dangling that carrot to him in return for his support.”

  “I thought it might be nice to have Moira and Margie join us—even though it will likely go past Margie’s bedtime,” Evan said. “Baking hours really suck. I feel like a farmer sometimes.”

  Trev laughed, but J.T. laid his arms on the table. They hadn’t mentioned someone he considered essential.

  “You didn’t mention Caroline.”

  Silence descended, and the tension between J.T.’s shoulder blades grew. He looked at Trev and then Chase. Both had their poker faces on. Evan, however, lowered his eyes.

  “What?” he asked, an edge to his voice. Something else had been discussed without him, and he didn’t like it.

  Trev pushed his espresso cup aside. “It’s like this. Right now, there are university people questioning the provenance of the art collection. Caroline was one of the people who confirmed the provenance.”

  “It was already done—”

  “Hear me out,” Trevor said. “Some might say that it’s a conflict of interest for her to comment on the provenance at all.”

  He wasn’t following. “I don’t understand. She’s an art expert.”

  More silence, and Evan fidgeted in his seat.

  “You’re sleeping with her,” Chase said. “I say this with the greatest respect… She’s my family, and I hate having to agree with Trevor here, but she can’t be part of the wining and dining. It could raise more questions about the collection, and it might also hurt her reputation. Moira agrees with me. I asked her in confidence and had her put on her human resources hat.”

  “We were both concerned about starting a personal relationship, but it’s separate,” he insisted. Even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. When she’d helped him in Rome and Napa, it had been only as a kindness to Uncle Arthur. He’d changed that by agreeing to hire her on as an art consultant.

  And he knew what they weren’t saying. If they didn’t want him and Caroline to act like a couple at a few dinner parties, then they likely didn’t want them to go public with their relationship at all.

  “People don’t see things that way,” Trev said, kicking him under the table. “You need to think here. Perception can be more damaging than truth, and in this case, it’s not clear-cut. You know how people like to talk about what goes on in the front office and under the sheets.”

  This was too much. J.T. stood so fast his chair toppled over. “I fucking love her, man.”

  “I’m not saying you don’t,” Trev said, holding up his hand like a stop sign. “I’m only saying we need to be careful. It could look bad and create more problems.”

  “None of us likes saying this,” Chase said. “Perhaps me least of all. Moira freaking got tears in her eyes after we talked about it.”

  He hadn’t thought he could feel worse. “Shit! First, she gets fired because of me and now this…”

  “It’s only temporary,” Trev said. “Until we can turn the tide against you and the museum.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, bro,” Trev said, coming to stand in front of him. “If I thought there were a better way, you know I’d propose it.”

  “But I just agreed to hire her last night as a consultant and have her work on the museum.”

  All of them looked at him like he was a moron.

  “While your heart is in the right place,” Trevor said, “you can’t do this right now.”

  How was he supposed to tell her that? “Do you know how shitty that is?”

  “Yes,” his brother said in a hard tone. “But it’ll protect her reputation until we can get beyond this.”

  Chase nodded, his face hard with tension.

  “No one says it doesn’t suck balls,” Evan said to him.

  There weren’t curse words vile enough to describe this situation. “So I’m guessing you want us to keep our relationship in the shadows completely?”

  “She might have announced it to the town, but yes,” Trevor said. “No public dates or hanging out. We need to make a show of professionalism and objectivity.”

  Anger spurted up, and he wanted to shout, Fuck that.

  “I know you want to hit something,” Trev said. “Me too. I ordered us a punching bag after you left last night. Until then, have another espresso. We need to make some calls.”

  J.T. took the piece of paper he handed him, counting the minutes until he could give the punching bag a go.

  Coming to Dare Valley, he’d thought he’d escaped the past.

  He hadn’t escaped anything.

  Chapter 20

  When J.T. came over later in the afternoon, Caroline noticed the wooden box under his arm right away.

  “What do we have here?” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips and reaching for the box. “It’s too small for a clown.”

  “I’m never going to live that down,” he said, running his free hand through his hair.

  Then she noticed his bruised knuckles. “Oh, my God. What happened?” Had he finally let anger get the better of him and punched Trevor?

  “We got a punching bag,” he said, “and it saw some serious action today.”

  Something had clearly happened. “I hate to ask, but how was your meeting?”

  “Let’s go inside,” he said. “I can tell you’re chilly.”

  Despite her worry, she couldn’t help but smile. He was so thoughtful, so solicitous of her.

  As they walked into the house, he set the box he was carrying on the coffee table. “I was wondering… Would you mind if I brought over some things? Razor. Change of clothes. Cologne. Stuff like that.”

  She stopped short. They were having this kind of conversation now? “You didn’t mention shoes. Or socks. It’s still cold out.”

  “Shoes,” he said slowly. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

  Until he posed the question, she hadn’t realized her chest had gone a little tight. “I’ve never had a man leave things at my place,” she admitted, “although this isn’t technically my place.”

  “I’m not saying I’ll spend every night here,” he said. “You might want some space, and I have to prance around in a dog-and-pony show for the trustees. Um… That brings me to the reason I needed to punch something.”

  Every time they parted, he came back with bad news. Keeping her spirits up was proving difficult, and the worry…

  She was fretting non-stop. Maybe she needed to take up meditation or something.r />
  “You’re a barrel of laughs,” she said, dropping into the leather loveseat. “Shoot.”

  He remained standing. “I’m not sure how to start. Remember how I mentioned Trev and I were planning on doing some entertaining with the university trustees?”

  “Yes.” Where was he headed with this and how did the box enter into it?

  “Well, I hate this, but it’s been decided it might be better for you not to be my plus one.”

  She hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “You mean because my role with the museum isn’t public yet?”

  He unbuttoned his jacket. “No, because we’re an item.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “I don’t follow.”

  “Seems I underestimated the power of perception.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “With Cynthia’s so-called accusations about the provenance…”

  The problem hit her square in the gut. “People might say I fudged something because… Oh, shit. Because we’re sleeping together. Oh, my God. And I announced it to the whole town. J.T., I’m so sorry.”

  Tequila was never going to touch her lips again.

  “Normally this wouldn’t be a problem,” he said, coming over and sinking to his knees in front of her.

  “Bull,” she said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about the professional implications. Moira should have kicked my butt.”

  He looked away, and she sensed he still had more to tell her. “Actually, Chase talked to Moira confidentially to get her take on your involvement,” he said.

  Of course he had. Chase was a forward-thinking kind of guy. Before he and Moira had started seeing each other, they’d had a very honest discussion about becoming involved and the professional issues. Both of them worked for Evan, but not at the same company. Which was why Moira would be the perfect person to negotiate her consultancy.

  “So Chase is advising you on things?” she asked. “That’s good. He’s crazy smart.”

  “He and Evan might be a little worried that my shit is going to hurt their new company. It’s damage control. They’ll be…ah…doing the dog-and-pony show with me.”