I snap. “Sera has worked in your office for how long? Don’t tell me you don’t know her name.”
It’s Liam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Of course I know who Sera is. I just didn’t think you’d be enough of an idiot to marry that Sera. Wyatt’s Sera.”
Wyatt is usually the fourth wheel here whenever his time in Sin Valley coincides with our mini poker tournaments. And tonight, he may not be here in the flesh but I’m almost sure I can feel his spirit. Just looming above my shoulder. Glaring down at me.
“She’s not Wyatt’s Sera. She’s her own person.”
Liam continues as if I hadn’t said anything. “How the hell did that happen anyway?”
I shrug and make a feeble attempt to justify my actions. “We drank too much. Sera’s emotions were all over the place. I was—”
“A big fucking idiot who has zero common sense when it comes to your best friend’s little sister,” Declan supplies. So helpful.
Liam frowns like he just remembered something. “Wait—isn’t she living with you? That night at the club, Wyatt asked you to let his sister live with you until she gets back on her feet.”
“Yeah, she’s living with me.” I give him a what’s the big deal? look.
It’s a big deal.
I’m not a complete moron.
Liam chuckles. “Since all your limbs are in tact I’m assuming Wyatt doesn’t know about this?”
“No, he doesn’t know. I want to be the one to tell him, okay? So keep your mouth shut. Both of you.” I shoot threatening looks between my friends.
I’m still not sure what I’m going to do about Wyatt. But I’ve decided to put that on the back burner for now and concentrate on Sera. My only focus is to get her whatever she needs, to be there for her.
Maybe it’s an avoidance tactic but I’d like to think of it as setting priorities. Making sure Sera’s okay is my priority.
Liam picks up his whiskey and mutters into the glass. “This should be interesting.”
I glare at my beer bottle. “Look, she and I are trying to figured this out. We’re trying to figure out whether we should stay married or get an annulment. We don’t need the extra pressure of Wyatt on our backs.”
For once, Declan’s voice goes serious. “Look, I’m just concerned that Sera may not be over her ex yet. That shit takes time. What if Rocky comes back with some bullshit apology and she takes him back? I just don’t want to see you get hurt in the end.” My younger brother looks at me squarely.
That sick taste in my mouth from earlier returns. I hate thinking about Rocky possibly coming back. A part of me hopes he’s traveled off into the sunset with that purple-haired woman. But what if that goes south? What if that’s just some fling until he returns and begs forgiveness from Sera?
I don’t even want to think about that possibility. But after the way Sera broke down at his condo this morning, I can’t just ignore it. What if…? What if Rocky really did come back? If that bastard shows up, ready to give her the world, would she go with him?
With the exception of my brother and grandmother, it seems that everyone I love ends up taking off sooner or later.
Would Sera leave, too?
“Mind your business and don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy.”
I refuse to let my irrational fears ruin a good thing for me. Sera and I are solid. We’re getting stronger every day. I don’t need to lose my shit over something that hasn’t happened. That will never happen.
Declan looks around for the waitress and motions for the check. “Whatever. I just hope I don’t get to say I fucking told you so.” He glances around the room again. “Man, for real, if you’re hungry, I know a place we can get half-priced appetizers.”
I laugh and rise from the table. Fuck these assholes. Fuck this bar. I grab my jacket. “Raincheck? I just wanna go home to my bride.
Thirty
Sera
I blink down at the heap of thick folders piled up on the corner of the table. Then, I glance at the colossal whirring photocopy machine.
I die a little inside.
I make a mental note to review the company-funded employee life insurance policy. I need to make sure that ‘death by ink toner fumes inhalation’ is included in my coverage.
Today, I’m on photocopy duty. Again.
With a sigh, I open the top folder and remove the paperclip binding the pages of the document together.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me again, Jennifer,” I say to the photocopy machine. When I hit the ‘color print’ button, it makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a growl of annoyance.
I know I should be grateful for the opportunity to work at a big real estate development firm like Kline-Simmons. And I am. Truly, I am. Most of my classmates would be grateful for this employment opportunity at a billion-dollar concern. I focus on the perks of my job. There are so many opportunities for learning here, and advancement within the company.
Good luck with advancement within the company when you’re virtually invisible to your boss, the snarky asshole in my head says.
I know I have to work my way up and I’m willing to be patient. I’m willing to take things one tiny step at a time. Except, there have been zero steps forward in the time I’ve been working here. Day in, day out, it’s just me and this damn photocopying machine.
“No offense to you, Jennifer”—yes, I’ve named the printer. We spend so much time together so it seemed like the polite thing to do—“but I want to be doing more in the company. I want more responsibility. I mean, I know I’m not qualified to be leading multi-million dollar merger negotiations or anything like that, but it would be nice to at least get to sit in on meetings every now and then, y’know? I feel like I know all the company’s client files like the back of my hand now. After all, I don’t just mindlessly photocopy these documents. I read them, I study them, I analyze the heck out of them. And I just—”
“Sera, are you having a full-blown conversation with the copy machine?”
Hands clutched to my chest, I spin around to find Desiree looking at me with a concerned stare. “Jeez. You scared me, girl.”
She enters the room, her high heels clicking with each step. She plops down another tower of folders next to the machine. “Sorry. I just had to intervene before things went too far.” She smirks.
I chuff. “To answer your question, yes. I was having a full-blown conversation with the copy machine.” I stroke the device affectionately. “Jennifer is basically the only person in the office who’ll communicate with me aside from you and Nadia.”
Desiree’s shoulders heave when she sighs. “I know it’s frustrating, hun. But don’t worry. Things will unfold for you in due time. And from now on, I’ll get you in on meetings whenever I can.”
“You will?” I can’t hide my hopeful-puppy excitement.
“Sure.” She smile-yawns then covers her mouth with her palm. “In the meantime, more documents to photocopy.” She backs out of the room, cringing and mouthing ‘Sorry!’
I glance up at the analog clock on the wall. It’s almost five o’clock. The work day is almost over. And soon, I’ll be in my husband’s arms again.
We spent most of the weekend in bed, with me locked up in Jace’s strong embrace. I needed him holding me. Especially after what unfolded at Rocky’s place when we went to pick up my stuff.
I’m still in shock over the pictures I saw on my ex’s bed. Just thinking about it now and my eyes start prickling again. Not because I still love Rocky or because I want back the relationship we had. No, I’ve fully moved on from that. But discovering, after the fact, that the person I was committed to was carrying around meteor-sized secrets—a whole other life on the side that I had no idea about—has left me wondering if I can even trust my own instincts anymore. God, was he cheating on me the whole time? And I had no freaking clue? I feel so stupid. Realizing how off-base my intuition has been? It reduced me to sobbing, blubbering, uncontrollable tears.
I mean—how am I
supposed to trust a lover if I can’t even trust myself, my instincts? If there were something going on with Jace, if he had his own meteor-sized secrets, would I yet again be so blinded by my feelings that I wouldn’t be able to see them? It’s terrifying.
I instantly snap off of the train of thought.
Jace isn’t like Rocky. He isn’t. I can trust him. He used to be a playboy once upon a time but that’s all in the past now. He’s committed to me. I’ve found myself deliberately reminding myself of this truth more times than I’m willing to admit today.
On a sigh, I get back to my photocopying. While the machine works, I read through all the documents, fascinated by the deals the company is putting together. Liam’s work is truly impressive. The guy is barely 30-something and he is single-handedly responsible for the rapid development of Sin Valley’s economy in recent years. Plus, he owns the Paragons and a bunch of other successful business ventures. And he pulls off a tailored business suit pretty well, too, I might add.
I want just a fraction of that success someday.
But for now, I’ll focus on the task in front of me and be grateful for it, dammit.
When the photocopying is done, I stack all the documents neatly into their assigned folders. I pick up a pile of them and head back toward my desk. I set the tower of documents down and crouch in front of the filing cabinet right next to my cubicle. I start packing them away. While I’m doing that, the top folder skates off the pile and papers start sliding to the floor.
“Dammit,” I mutter to the documents scattered across the carpet. I drop onto my knees to gather them up.
A pair of spotless custom black Jordans step into my line of sight.
My breath hitches. My gaze moves up a pair of long, muscular legs encased in dark jeans, a lean waist, a flat stomach, wide shoulders.
I find my gorgeous husband holding a bouquet of daisies, grinning at me. “Need a hand with that, pretty lady?”
Almost immediately, there’s a knot in my stomach and a puddle in my panties.
I grin back. Jace isn’t like Rocky.
Thirty-One
Jace
“Ladies first,” I say with an exaggerated wink as Sera steps through the large glass door I’m holding for her. As she passes by me, my eyes dip down to her bare legs and I suppress a groan.
I wasn’t lying about wanting to take her out on dates, but damn, with the way her body looks in that slinky dark plum dress, it’s hard not to wish we were just back home in bed together tonight.
Unable to peel my eyes off of her ass, I follow her into the restaurant. I need to quit behaving like a chauvinistic pig if I have any chance of convincing Sera to go on a second date with me, a third, a lifetime of dates. I’m in this for the long haul.
I found a quaint little Italian restaurant not too far from my place, within walking distance from the Strip. It’s nice, but not as boisterous as the popular eateries in the heart of the action. I think it’ll be exactly the type of place where Sera will feel comfortable.
Throughout the evening, I’m on my best behavior. I’m trying to be the perfect gentleman for my wife. Pulling out her chair. Keeping my cell phone out of sight. Making sure her wine glass is always topped up. I give her all of my attention.
Her bright smiles come easy all night and that’s a major victory for me.
As we sit across from each other, I’m sweating bullets through my suit jacket, desperately trying to avoid the temptation to fall back on my usual sexual innuendos and flirty one-liners. It’s hard work, because that’s just my default. It’s all I’ve ever known.
But with Sera, the end game is different.
I’m not just looking to charm her into bed. I’m not trying to tempt her to a quickie.
I actually want to impress her on a deeper level. With conversation and laughter and connection.
I want to convince her that I meant every single word I said at the lawyer’s office. My feelings have shifted. Actually, these feelings were always there. It’s just that I wasn’t ready to see them before.
I’m fucking ready now.
I really care about this woman. Hell—I’m 99.5576 percent sure I’m in love with her.
When our food arrives, it smells so good that we dive right in.
“How are things at the office this week?” I ask her, taking a bite of pasta and setting down my fork to listen to her.
Her little nose scrunches up. “People aren’t taking me seriously,” she admits, and I hate to see her so dejected. She takes a sip of her red wine. “It’s frustrating. Desiree knows what I can do, but most of the time, Liam doesn’t even remember I exist and everyone else seems to think I’m there to fetch them coffee and send faxes.”
Something red hot throbs in my chest. I hate that they’re underestimating her over there. “Liam’s such an asshole,” I grumble.
I remember the look he’d given me when I went to pick Sera up from work today. One shoulder leaned on a doorframe, feet crossed at the ankles, smirking with an I-know-this-is-gonna-blow-up-in-your-face expression. Asshole. How am I friends with the guy?
I just hope he’s not right, though.
I take a moment to wipe my mouth with my cloth napkin then I lean forward, my elbows planted on the small round table between us. “Okay, I don’t have any experience in the corporate world, but I think this goes for any professional setting. Here’s what you’re gonna do. It’s how I managed through my rookie years and earned the respect I deserved.”
“What is it?” she asks, eyes shining with anticipation.
“You need to be more confident, Baby Girl,” I tell her.
She squints at me like I just said the most cliche thing ever. “People always say that. Be more confident. Be more confident. But what the hell does that even mean?” She sighs. “Like confidence is all great in theory, but in the real world, what does that even look like?”
I reach across the table and tickle her behind the ear. “It means you strut into the room, that gorgeous head held high, ‘bad bitch energy’ on blast, like you know what you’re all about. Then you open your mouth, say some powerful shit and own it. People will just naturally want to know who the fuck you are. Your coworkers will have no choice but to take you seriously if that’s the kind of energy you bring to the table.” I shrug. “Doesn’t take a fancy business degree. It takes you. Deciding you’re the shit and letting everybody else fall in line.”
Sera’s brows dip low. She’s lost in thought. “Yeah. You’re probably right. I guess I’m not always very sure of myself. Especially being younger than everyone there at the office.”
“Use that to your advantage, Sera. You’re younger than everyone because you put yourself on the fast track. That just means you know more shit than they did at twenty-four.”
She drops her gaze and lets out a small chuckle. “Maybe.”
I lift her chin. “None of that ‘maybe’ stuff. You’ve got to be confident in your words, too. And your tone. Instead of ‘maybe,’ you should respond with ‘fuck yes!’” I give the table a smack for emphasis.
That earns me a full-out laugh from Sera and curious glimpses from a few of the other diners.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. For the most part.” She beams. “I’m not sure how Liam would feel about that kind of language in the conference room but you’re right about the other stuff.”
I nod, feeling proud that I was able to give my wife the boost she needs. “And another thing I’ve noticed when working with newbies on the field, you’ve got to find that balance of being human and relatable without being overly emotional or easily offended. Show that you’ve got enough backbone to let the small stuff roll right off but that at the same time, you won’t just let people walk all over you.”
A warm, little smile grows slowly across her face. “That’s really good advice.” She sits in silent contemplation.
“What are you smiling about over there?” I ask after a quiet moment.
“I like talking to you,” she say
s shyly. She glances at me from beneath her lashes. It’s a look that makes me feel like a king. “When I talk to other people, sometimes I feel like I get drowned out by their opinions and their advice. But when I confide in you, I feel…seen, heard, understood. I’ve never felt like that with anyone else.” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you for supporting me in this way.”
My heart puffs up with a big, big emotion. Reaching across the table, I let my fingers tangle with hers. I notice that she hasn’t taken off her gaudy fake diamond ring. Maybe I’m not failing at this husband thing after all.
“Your ambition is sexy as fuck, Sera. You don’t look for shortcuts. You work hard. You want to earn it. Your ambition? Your motivation? Your drive? Hot as fuck to me.”
With a blush on her cheeks, she cocks her head to the side, staring softly at me across the table. “Why do you refuse to go talk to the kids at the community centre with Wyatt and Liam? Wyatt says he’s been trying to convince you to join them.”
My brows slant low. “I don’t think I’m the right guy for that…”
“Jace, you are a pro at giving pep talks. No one has ever given me good advice like you do. You know so much more than you give yourself credit for.”
“I don’t feel like I’m a role model for those kids. Going to talk to them doesn’t feel right,” I admit.
“But why?” she presses.
I lean back in my chair. “Because. I’ve always been the troublemaker. The frivolous jokester. Nobody wants their kids looking up to me. Come on. I know you watch Sports Broadcast Network sometimes. I’m the party guy. The one who likes a good time. The guy who tells a dirty joke. That’s the image I’ve created.”
Sera leans forward and caresses my hand with hers. “You are so much more than that. You may not see it, but you’re a really good person.”
I scoff. “Good at getting phone numbers, maybe.”
She glares at my head. “That was the wrong shit to say while on a date.”
Playing House: A Small Town Brother’s Best Friend Romance (The Playboys of Sin Valley Book 1) Page 21