Just One Kiss (Very Irresistible Bachelors Book 2)

by Layla Hagen

  Chapter Ten

  Heather

  I spent the next morning editing the interviews, weaving them into a storyline. I wasn’t in the mood to work from home, so after dropping off Avery at school I headed to the coffee shop across the street. It was a great way to escape the solitude of my apartment without going through the hassle of taking the train into Manhattan.

  I was pumped about the article, and not just because I’d had three lattes before eleven o’clock. This was going to be epic; I felt it in my gut. I had enough experience as a reporter to know when a story was ho-hum or a home run. Ruby, in particular, had some excellent quotes. I still regretted not interviewing Ryker. He was insightful, saw things in a different light than most. I hadn’t met anyone who stood by his family the way he did, who’d made some of the biggest choices in his life by considering others too, not just himself.

  I set my laptop on the small coffee table in front of me, and curling in the armchair like a cat, looked out the window. I wasn’t really watching anything, though. My mind was too full of Ryker. His smile, that intensity rolling off him in waves, wrapping tight around me. Just remembering the way he’d kissed me made my lips burn. Grinning, I went to the counter, buying my fourth latte—this one was decaf.

  I just needed a treat to go with my Ryker daydreaming. Yeah, I’d made the executive decision that I wasn’t going to fight thoughts of him. It couldn’t hurt to indulge in a little mental daydream, could it?

  Oh, yeah. My decaf nonfat latte really was the perfect choice to indulge in a little Ryker break. I held the cup tight, glancing out the window with a huge grin. I loved coming to this coffee shop. It overlooked a small park that was splendid year-round. In winter it looked like a scene straight out of a fairy tale, with the trees covered in a thin coat of snow or ice. The rest of the year it was either vibrant green or a mix of yellow, red, and brown in fall.

  Right now, it was in the transitioning phase. I only spotted a few patches of green. The clear blue sky was a pretty sight, as were the New Yorkers milling under it. The rhythm here was a little more relaxed than in Manhattan.

  I felt like I could breathe better out here. Over the years, I’d thought about moving away from New York to a city with lower living costs. But newspaper jobs were concentrated in the big hubs anyway, and I loved New York to bits.

  After downing the last drop of latte, it was time to get back to typing. I wasn’t working only on the Pearman Fund article. I had several others in various stages of editing. Five minutes into rereading what I’d previously written on a global warming article, I caught myself rewinding yesterday’s kiss in my mind’s eye again.

  Heather, get yourself together. The Ryker break is over.

  Ah, but there was the problem with allowing myself to indulge. Daydreams worked on their own schedule. I just couldn’t shake Ryker off. At least I wasn’t going to see him soon, which meant that in a few days, the aftereffects of the kiss would subside. I was still under his spell, that was all.

  I hoped.

  Shaking my head, I turned the volume on my headphones higher, focusing on my keyboard.

  As the afternoon rolled in, I briefly considered buying another latte in one of my breaks, but eh... no. I seemed to be associating the taste with Ryker today.

  I bought a boring soda. There, that couldn’t lead to any daydreaming.

  Nope, wrong again. Ryker was front and center in my mind. I caught myself smiling again. It couldn’t be wrong, right? Right? I’d had so few reasons to smile over the past two weeks, and they were all tied to Ryker.

  After the soda break, I went on a writing sprint. I’d intended for it to last forty minutes only, but I hit such a great stride that I went on for an hour and a half.

  I was just about to gather my things and pick up Avery when my phone rang. Ryker was calling. My palms became sweaty. My fingers and hands became jittery again, just like after the kiss yesterday.

  Holy shit! Apparently, I didn’t need to see him in person. Just his name on the screen of my phone made my stomach knot. Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath, focusing on the point just above my belly the way I did in Pilates classes. This technique had proved useful in many tough moments.

  “Hi,” I greeted, still focusing on my breathing.

  “Hi, Heather. Is this a good time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I need to talk to you.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Say yes to what I’m about to ask.”

  I’d thought I was on edge before? Ha! I’d been wrong. That was nothing compared to the tension spreading through me like a vise. My pulse ratcheted up. I heard the rhythmic thumping in my ears, felt it against my rib cage. My trusty breathing technique had gotten me through intense conversations with my editor and difficult interviews.

  But it was no match for Ryker.

  “That would depend on what you’re asking.”

  “You know the March Ballroom Gala is coming up next week.”

  “Of course. The entire city knows about it.”

  “I want you and Avery to come.”

  Wow. I sank lower in the armchair, pressing my palm above that pesky spot on my stomach. It wasn’t tight now anymore... just full of butterflies, which was not helping.

  “Aren’t the invitations for donors only?”

  “They’re for whoever we want there, Heather. And I want you and Avery there.”

  “I thought the invitations were sent out months ago.”

  I was buying time. I just didn’t know what to say.

  I had to say no.

  I wanted to say yes.

  Avery would love it. Crap, I couldn’t use that as an excuse... but I almost did. I’d only known this man for two weeks, and yet, I wanted to be around him every chance I got.

  “You told me you’d love to come to one.”

  “I don’t know anyone in the city who wouldn’t.”

  “So why aren’t you saying yes?”

  I licked my lips. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You’ll love it.”

  “How can you be so sure I’ll come?”

  “It’s still one week away. Plenty of time for me to win you over. And I intend to do just that.” Had his purpose been to make me blush and grin at the same time? Because he’d succeeded with flying colors. I’d almost asked how exactly he intended to do that but caught myself in time. I didn’t need to know everything. In fact, it was better if I didn’t.

  ***

  Avery and I spent that evening pampering ourselves. I loved these quiet evenings at home with her, where we got to dream and just be girly. I’d brought out the nail polish and was currently painting her nails. Next, I did mine, even applying a coat of glitter (having a kid gave me a perfect excuse to let my inner four-year-old come out and play).

  Once we were done, we both danced around the house, waving our nails in an exaggerated manner for the polish to dry (I’d learned the hard way that even with a coat of “quick-dry” you were never safe for at least fifteen minutes).

  We blasted music through the living room, being silly and just forgetting about the world, right until the doorbell rang. I stilled. Avery frowned as I turned down the volume. Had it been too loud?

  “Is someone coming to visit?” she asked.

  “No.”

  I just hoped it wasn’t the landlord, coming to tell me that he’d changed his mind and two months of prepaid rent wasn’t enough.

  “Why don’t you go to your room while I see who it is?”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  In case it was the landlord, I didn’t want Avery to hear us. I hadn’t told her that we might have to move. We’d painted the walls in her room by ourselves, bought the furniture together. It was the first real home we’d both had. I wouldn’t lose it.

  I gave myself a mental pep talk, trying to decide on the best course of action in the seconds it took me to reach the door.

  It wasn’t my landlord. It was a delivery guy h
olding an envelope.

  “Ms. Heather Prescott?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a delivery for you.”

  “What is it?”

  He cocked a brow. “I don’t know. I’m just delivering. Sign here, please.”

  I signed the sheet of paper he held in front of me.

  After he left, I closed the door, leaning against it and inspecting the envelope. It didn’t say who the sender was. Everything I’d received from my landlord before had had his contact information scribbled on it.

  Come on, Heather. You’re not a chicken. Just open it.

  I opened the envelope and found two smaller ones inside. They were golden, and I could swear they smelled like lavender. One had my name on it, one Avery’s. What on earth? I opened the one addressed to me.

  Dear Ms. Heather Prescott,

  You are hereby cordially invited to the first spring ball. We are celebrating in style on Friday at the March Ballroom Gala. The party starts at 6:00 pm. We hope you will join us and look forward to your RSVP.

  Yours,

  The Winchester & Caldwell Families

  I reread the invitation about five times before it sank in. Below was an RSVP card with the date of the event on it. Oh, Ryker. I couldn’t believe he’d actually done this. I didn’t even know they sent out printed invitations. I held it closer to my nose, sniffing. It smelled like lavender. He probably knew my address from the fund’s HR. I’d had to tell them my information.

  “Mommy, can I come out?” Avery called.

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “Who was it?”

  “The postman. He brought us something. Here, this is for you.”

  She snatched the golden envelope I handed her. Her little mouth formed an adorable O when she read her name. I never saw her handle anything with more care than this envelope. She opened it slowly, retrieving the invitation even slower.

  “It says here Miss Avery Prescott. I am a miss? Wow.”

  I went behind her, reading over her shoulder.

  Dear Miss Avery Prescott...

  Oh, Ryker. He certainly knew how to play his cards. Our names were handwritten. Had he done this himself?

  I could read it out loud to her, but since she’d started reading, she loved doing it by herself. It took a while longer, but I loved watching her. I could practically feel her light up. The Ballroom Galas were so legendary that even Avery knew about them.

  When she turned around, she was smiling from ear to ear. I melted on the spot. I hadn’t seen her this happy in a while.

  “Mommy,” she whispered. “I don’t understand. It says here it is for me.”

  “It is.”

  “But kids at my school say only important people go.”

  “I guess you’re important, lovebug.”

  “Can I go without you?”

  What?

  I waved my own invitation in front of her. “I’ve got one too.”

  “So, you’re important too?”

  I burst out laughing. She looked almost disappointed that she wasn’t the only important one here.

  “Yes, lovebug.”

  “And we’re going?”

  “I have to check my calendar.”

  I read over the note again, trying to buy myself time. But Avery was watching me with wide, expectant eyes. Then she wrapped her arms around me.

  “Please, please, Mommy. I promise I’ll be good for a whole month. Go to bed early, not steal cookies.”

  “You’ve been stealing cookies?” I feigned surprise.

  She winced. “Sometimes. Please don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad. But you have to be careful. They’re not good for your teeth.”

  “Mommy! Please say yes.”

  I was so torn. I wanted to make Avery happy. I wanted to make Ryker happy too... even though I had a hunch that involved far more than agreeing to the gala. But whatever reservations I still harbored, I just didn’t have it in myself to wipe Avery’s smile away. Which left me with only one outcome.

  “Yes, we’re going.”

  “Yeeeees! Thank you, Mommy.”

  Avery jumped in my arms, lacing her small arms around her neck in one of those hugs I loved so much.

  “Can I stay up late tonight?”

  I laughed. Typical Avery. She’d gotten her way with one thing, and automatically pushed the next item on her agenda.

  “No, honey. You still have to wake up early tomorrow.”

  Avery pouted but didn’t insist. I was dying to try on a dress I thought would fit, but first had to put Avery to bed.

  I shot Ryker a quick message.

  Heather: Just received the invitations. Avery is psyched. And so am I.

  The next second, the screen lit up with Ryker’s name. I debated answering, but instead rejected the call, typing yet another message.

  Heather: I’ll call you after I put Avery to bed, okay? About half an hour.

  Ryker’s reply came almost immediately.

  Ryker: Non-PG 13 call? I like the sound of it.

  I blushed violently. I finished Avery’s routine with ten minutes to spare, took the invitations, and darted to my bedroom. It was small—since I was single, I’d left the bigger bedroom to Avery, and even that wasn’t too much space. I’d pushed a small double bed against the wall and had a tiny nightstand next to it. My dresser was just at the foot of the bed.

  Instead of calling Ryker right away, I took a dress out of my closet. It had a black lace corset and golden organza skirt that flowed to the floor. I’d worn it at a newspaper event at the Plaza but hadn’t had another occasion worthy of this beauty since. I slipped it on, admiring myself in the mirror.

  Even my messy hair looked as if it was messy on purpose. Of course, it helped that the room was semidark, hiding any imperfection, giving me a mysterious air. For a brief second, I forgot all my troubles. I wasn’t a reporter chasing her bonus or a single mom. I was a woman.

  My blood thrummed when Ryker called. Thirty minutes on the dot, as if he didn’t want to give me a chance to change my mind.

  I picked up the phone, returning in front of the mirror, admiring the dress some more.

  “Heather,” Ryker greeted in a low, gravelly voice. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine he was in the same room with me.

  “Hi! I was just about to call you.”

  “So....”

  “You made good on that promise to win me over,” I said.

  “I did well, didn’t I?”

  “Yes. She was so happy, feeling like a lady.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “I’m not going to answer that. So is that a yes?”

  “Well, I’m trying on a dress right now, so I guess you have your answer.”

  “Describe it to me.” His voice sounded even more gravelly than before. Dangerous, somehow. I licked my lips.

  My voice trembled lightly as I spoke next. “It has a tight corset out of black lace. The skirt is organza.”

  He said nothing.

  “Are you having trouble picturing it?”

  “Yes. All I come up with is you wearing absolutely nothing.”

  Holy shit! A flash of heat lit up my body. I gripped the edge of the mirror with my free hand, leaned my forehead against the cool surface. It was no use.

  “Goodnight, Ryker. I’ll see you at the gala,” I said. “I can’t wait.”

  My breath was still shaky when I hung up. The tips of my breasts turned hard, brushing against the fabric of the bodice. The contact of the dress on my outer thighs made my skin turn to goose bumps, as if Ryker was here, touching me. I wouldn’t be able to wear this dress and not remember this exact moment, when he’d made my entire body feel like a live wire.

  Chapter Eleven

  Heather

  On the day of the ball, I received a message from one of Ryker’s sisters, Tess, asking me if I wanted to come earlier. I jumped at the opportunity. I was curio
us to see the famous ballroom, and I knew Avery would enjoy it too.

  It was even more magnificent live than in pictures. The second I entered it, I felt as if I’d stepped into another century. Crystal chandeliers and balconies with wrought iron railings surrounded me. I spotted tables on the balconies. In the center was a dance floor with a small stage at the end of the room. There was a bouquet of buttercup winter hazel on every table. I loved that they used seasonal flowers.

  “Mommy, are we in a castle?” Avery whispered.

  “Something like that.”

  Two women walked towards us. I could tell they were Ryker’s sisters. Something about them instantly reminded me of him. One had dark brown hair, the other light brown—interspersed with highlights. They were both wearing gorgeous evening gowns. I had yet to change into mine. I was carrying it in a plastic cover over my shoulder. Avery was already wearing her dress—she’d asked to change at her school.

  “You must be Heather. And this is Avery?” said the one with light brown hair and highlights.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “I’m Tess,” she said.

  “And I’m Skye,” the other introduced herself. “We have about half an hour before guests will start arriving. Avery, want me to show you the kids’ corner?”

  She pointed over her shoulder to a corner I hadn’t paid attention to, opposite the stage. There was a small slide and a mountain of toys. There were also three women milling around that corner.

  “We have certified sitters that will be present at the event the whole time,” Skye explained.

  “Mommy, can I go?” Avery asked.

  “Sure, honey. Let’s go together.” Tess and her sister led the way. Avery headed straight to the slide while Skye introduced me to the sitters. I spoke with them for a few minutes, and afterward, they headed to Avery. Since she was the first kid to arrive, they didn’t have much to do yet.

  “Wow. That’s going to keep kids occupied for hours,” I said.

  “That’s the plan. From experience, we know kids don’t like to sit at the tables. It’s boring for them. They usually only interrupt their games long enough to eat or drink, and we’ve set up the kids’ snacks in the corner by the playground. Our sitters have been working our events for a few years now, and we trust them completely.”