Fire in an Amber Sky

by Addison Moore

  A dark, visceral sadness spears through me.

  There was something undeniably special about her—the way she waltzed in here like she was looking to dethrone me. A sick feeling trickles to my bones because I’m almost certain I wanted her to. Hell, with those eyes and that hair, I would have given her the keys to the kingdom far too easily. I haven’t let anyone inside the fortress for a very long time—not another redhead, that’s for damn sure. I couldn’t afford to let her infiltrate. This is about self-preservation, hers and mine.

  Hers and mine. A dull laugh thumps through me. There is no she and I. There is no I and anyone else for that matter.

  There was once, but now she’s gone, and she can never be replaced. It would be foolish to try.

  I head down to the gym to take the edge off this rocky start to the day. I guess the metaphor here is that if you want to fuck over the Cannons, trust no one. You’ll have to do it yourself—with your own two hands.

  * * *

  The board meeting starts on the button. If there is one thing about Jinx, it’s a well-oiled machine that hides behind the façade of the do-nothing hippy sect that looks as if it would no sooner ask to wash your car for spare change than run a Fortune 500.

  I take my traditional seat between Stevie and Aspen with Ford and Carter on either side of them like disgruntled bookends. It’s a strange sandwich, considering the bad blood between the two families, but my sisters have fallen under the Cannon spell. Hell, they’ve taken on their identities and have become their legal spouses. Stevie has given Ford a daughter, and Aspen has one in the oven, so maybe it’s the Cannons who are screwing over the Lionhearts, quite literally. Maybe their best strategy has always been to pin us beneath the sheets and dethrone us on a bed of matrimonial promises. Lucky for me, there’s not a single Cannon sister I’d be interested in bedding. I’ll stick to my club whores thank you very much.

  The hipsters near me make my eyes want to bleed with all the toilet water they’ve doused themselves in. I do a quick scan of the room and note one person in particular staring me down—a linebacker-built, Italian suit wearing asshole that looks as if he’s got an ax to grind. I nod over to him, dispelling the stronghold he thinks he has on me, and he quickly looks away. There was something about his eyes—mean looking. He unnerves me a bit, and I don’t like that. That dark blond hair, that herculean frame—he looks familiar. I know him from somewhere. Maybe a bar brawl I was too tanked to recall correctly.

  “There she is.” Aspen leans past me to Stevie, and I follow their eyes to the girl at the entry standing with Cash and Carson the ’Roid Master.

  The girl’s back is to me, but my eyes enlarge at the familiar river of red flowing locks running over her shoulders and that short black skirt I had the pleasure of wrinkling in my hand.

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath. It’s her. It’s Ginger, Sinful Fucking Cinnamon, the girl who impressed herself on my psyche in just a few short minutes with her bloody pussy and angelic face. I went straight to the shower and came for a week while thinking about her. And now, she’s here in the boardroom, nodding at whatever it is Cash Cannon has to say. Cash is an arrogant asshole, but I wouldn’t have pegged him to be plucking women from Delilah’s little black book. And what is this anyway? Is she pulling a double shift?

  Her gaze bobs over the crowd until settling over me, and a heated smile comes and goes on her lips. She offers a tiny wave with her fingers, and I can’t help but feel as if I’ve just been mocked. A riot incites in me. As quick as it came, it dissipates, replaced with a rush of relief. I didn’t think I’d see her again. Deep down I wanted to, and now here she is staining the door like a giant question mark. I’ve fucked hundreds of girls, and never once was happy to see them again. But then again, Sin and I technically didn’t fuck, unless you count the happy hour in the shower, and, if you do, then we’ve bonded anatomically, defying the odds of both physics and gravity.

  “Who is she?” I ask without looking away. I’m waiting for Aspen to let me in on whatever gossip they’re delving into. Maybe it’s her shoes they’re interested in. Why in the hell is she even a topic of conversation?

  “Macy O’Conner,” Stevie whispers. “Gorgeous, isn’t she? I can’t believe what that poor thing went through.”

  “I know, right?” Aspen tenses against my shoulder. “I would die if that happened to me. All of the planning that goes into something like that, and then you get to the finish line to have that happen to you?”

  Curiosity rips through me, piqued and boiling, demanding to know what happened to my favorite sin.

  Aspen sighs. “Her mother told me she was saving herself for the bastard. I’m just glad she didn’t go through with it. Look what happened to me. It was all for the best.”

  Ford stands and gets the meeting underway, boring the shit out of fifty plus people in this overstuffed boardroom that touts stale coffee and not enough air conditioning. But my thoughts derail every few seconds as my gaze settles back on “Macy” who is still very much Sin to me. I want to know exactly what my sisters meant by “poor thing” and “glad she didn’t go through with it.” I’m pretty sure I know what they meant by “she was saving herself for the bastard,” and that’s the part that has me shaking. For whatever reason, she signed up as a call girl and ended up bent over my desk with me unknowingly trying to pop her cherry. Not cool. Not fucking cool. As much as I’m glad I stopped it there, I’m angry that she put me in that awkward situation without letting me know, and even more so, I’m upset that she put herself in that awkward situation. Sin is beautiful. And, I’m right—she seems sweet. There doesn’t appear to be a sinful bone in her body, and because of this, my mind spins like a merry-go-round with question after question.

  Once Ford frees us from his boring diatribe, Cash stands in his place. “If there are any of you looking to expand your group projects—my niece, Macy O’Conner, is here ready and willing to serve. She’s the latest addition to the Jinx corporate family, so give her a warm welcome and feel free to show her the ropes whenever you can.”

  A rushed applause explodes and dies off too soon.

  Our eyes lock from across the room. “Niece?” I mouth to her.

  Shit. My body explodes with a bite of heat. I’ve just been taken for a ride by one of them and didn’t even know it. What the hell was she doing in my office? I pluck out my phone and scroll through the messages, only to find there’s an entire rash of urgent texts I ignored just before she walked in this morning—three from Delilah.

  We need to reschedule.

  My girl can’t make it.

  Can you take a 2 pm? Let me know you got this. Sorry again.

  “Shit,” I hiss as the bodies disband from the room. I glance over, and Imaginary Bar Brawl Boy is nestled right next to her, speaking with Sin. My gut cinches at the sight. He’s in her league, young brooding model type, and I want to deck him. I should probably go over and introduce my fist to his face because it feels inevitable at this point.

  “What’s the matter?” Aspen peers in, and her dark hair falls between us like a curtain. I sink my phone back into my pocket. No use in letting her in on every last detail.

  Both Aspen and Stevie have the same long dark hair framing their faces. They’re beautiful, shockingly so. Kinsley, my only full-blooded sibling, is fair like me, but a hot mess all her own. Thank God both Stevie and Aspen seem to have straightened their lives out. I love them like they were my own. I’d die to protect any one of my siblings. God knows our father wouldn’t.

  “Nothing’s the matter,” I whisper as Sin gets up and heads over. A slow, spreading grin takes over her face.

  “I’m Macy,” she says to both Stevie and Aspen, choosing to openly ignore the one who had his finger buried inside her just an hour ago. “Sorry I wasn’t able to come to the weddings. I had finals for yours,” she says to Stevie, “and I was in Ibiza with my ex-fiancé at the time of yours.” She scrunches her nose, and my stomach tightens because she looks as cute as
hell in the process. “In hindsight, attending your wedding would have been a much better idea.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened.” Stevie shakes her head. “But Ford and I are so glad to have you here. By the way, this is our brother, Lincoln.” Stevie waves a hand over me as if I were a prize. I might be, but not for this one.

  Macy bites her poppy red lip as if withholding a laugh. “I guess that makes you my uncle. Nice to meet you, Uncle Lincoln.”

  “No,” I’m quick to refute. “That does not make me your uncle. I promise you that.” I’m only slightly amused at the pleasure she’s getting from watching me squirm at the sick thought.

  Ford comes up, tall, dark, and brooding, just like the rest of the Cannon clan, sans Macy and her divine redheaded glory. The Cannon cookie cutter looks seem to be what my sisters want in a man. I still don’t care for the assholes, but as long as they treat my sisters with respect, I’ll refrain from killing them. I did kill Henry, Aspen’s ex-husband, and don’t regret a single bullet to this day.

  “Cash just told me you’re at the Davenport.” Ford shakes his head in dismay. “Please, stay with us.”

  “Are you kidding?” Her eyes light up green as traffic signals. Green means go, and maybe I should do just that, but my feet can’t seem to move. I’m still pissed. I demand an explanation of why she let me do that to her body. She offers Ford a coy smile, as if he were in on the joke. “You have baby Maddie to take care of. This is a special time for you. I’m not intruding.”

  “Then you’ll stay with me,” Aspen insists.

  Sin’s eyes fall to Aspen’s growing belly. “I think you have enough going on yourself. I’m fine, really. I’ll find a place of my own. A few of the guys mentioned they were looking for a roommate. I might take them up on it.”

  A few of the guys?

  “You’ll stay with me.” The words rumble from me without permission. “My sister Kinsley, actually. She doesn’t like to live alone.”

  Carter crops up from out of nowhere and gives me the evil eye. “Aren’t you living with her?” It’s as if he senses my dick radar moving his niece’s direction. Not to worry. Now that I know she has Cannon blood coursing through her veins, I’m staying away for the long haul.

  “I’m moving.” It’s true. If I need to turn a blind eye to one more guy rummaging through the fridge with nothing but his boxers on after having his way with my sister, I’ll lose my mind. It’s not healthy. I’ve needed a place of my own for a while now. This is the perfect time to act.

  “Then it’s set!” Stevie hops toward Macy, far too excited about the turn of events than needed. “Why don’t you join us at the Trattoria tonight? Dinner will be on me. Kinsley is a doll,” she gushes.

  Carter steps in. “I hate to run, but I’m meeting with tech support in a few minutes. Let us know if you need anything at all.”

  Aspen pecks him with a kiss. “I’ll help her get set up.”

  Ford and Stevie each give her a brief pep talk before taking off themselves.

  “I can take it from here,” I say, steadying my eyes over Ms. O’Conner.

  “What?” Aspen waves her hand over my eyes. “She needs to be plugged into the system, not taken out on a date.”

  “I’m not dating her, and I’m certainly not plugging anything into her.” My lips curve at the thought.

  Sin raises her brows as if I were getting off on a technicality.

  “What do you like to do?” I ask point-blank. “Other than lying—what interests you within the company?”

  Aspen gasps. “Please, excuse my brother’s audacity.” She swats me against the chest, but I don’t break my gaze from the beautiful woman in front of me—the redheaded virgin, the no-fly zone that more than took me for a ride. “He’s full of himself these days.” She shoos me with her fingers in hopes I’ll go away. “I—”

  “No, he’s right.” Her lucent white teeth glow over those cherry lips. “I might have been a little deceptive during our first meeting. I keep forgetting that telling people I’m related to the Cannons might be an important detail in a place like this.” She gives a little wink. “I’m sure it was hard for Honest Abe here to wrap his head around the fact someone might be stretching the truth.” Those emerald eyes of hers shine at the dig. “My apologies.”

  “Accepted.” I nod my head a moment too long. There are a lot of things that women have told me over the years, but an apology isn’t one of them. “So, what is it you’re looking for in the company?” Other than blood. Hell, it’s the blood that should have tipped me off. She came into my office out for blood—fangs protruding from her smile. She had trouble written all over her.

  Aspen tilts in. “You’re a go-getter, Macy. I can tell. You’re so good-natured. I think you’ll be perfect just about anywhere in the company.”

  Aspen has a brilliant mind and is usually a good judge of character, but, since her track record with men dispels any of the aforementioned great attributes, I think I’ll stick to my gut, which insists Macy is here to stunt any further Lionheart control. She was speaking with Cash. Cash isn’t a Lionheart convert like two of his brothers are. And Carson, he’s just a bag of testosterone looking for an excuse to rip someone’s head off. I’m sure if he knew where my body parts were trying to embed themselves just over an hour ago, mine would be spiked on the entry gate out front.

  Aspen rubs Macy’s shoulder like a good, loving aunt. “Just let us know what division you’re interested in.”

  Macy doesn’t tear her eyes from me. “What is it that you do?” Sin seems to have taken a particular interest in me, and this is where I get off the very bumpy ride.

  “Nothing that you can do.” I shut her down quickly.

  “God, Linc!” Aspen swats me again just as Pepper sticks her head in the room and motions her over. “I gotta run. Swing by my office, and I’ll let you start in the development department if you’d like. I’ll see you soon!” She starts to take off, then backtracks. “Ignore my brother. Banter is his love language. He’s all bark and no bite. He’s harmless, really.”

  “Ask Henry if he thinks I’m harmless,” I call after her, and she casually gives me the finger before disappearing.

  “Who’s Henry?” Sin takes a bold step in, her eyes widening like jade windows.

  “Her dead ex. I put a bullet through his forehead, so it’d be kind of hard for him to answer the question.”

  Her hot little pink mouth opens. “Wow. You seem rather proud of that.”

  “I am.”

  “And, since you’re standing here, you either bought the judge and the jury, or it was self-defense.”

  “The latter, but the bullet should have bitten his brain long before I ever needed to defend my sister or myself.”

  “Oh, one of those.” Her demeanor darkens. “Maybe I should have hired you. Although, for this one, you would have done time, and Bradley, it turns out, isn’t worth anybody’s time.”

  I take her in like this, vulnerable, her features softening to a childlike quality. She’s young. I probably have a good eight to ten years on her. But she’s a Cannon. I’ll engrave that over my dick if I have to. As much as the urge to draw near to her exists, what I really need to do is run in the opposite direction. We’re not a fit. I don’t fit with anyone. That’s how it’s been close to forever. No reason to go messing around with a very good thing.

  “So, Bradley is the ex, I take it.” I smack my lips, bored, and note Bar Brawl Dude eyeing me again before ditching out the door. Idiot. “Look, I wouldn’t get too involved in any big projects around here. Sounds like you’ll be on the next plane home. He’ll call—the ex—you’ll kiss and make up. I’ve seen it a million times.”

  Her jaw goes slack. All traces of her friendly features melt to agitation.

  “Boy, you’re arrogant, aren’t you?” The sun catches her hair from behind and she lights up like a flame. “Newsflash, Lincoln the Oracle Lionheart, we are not getting back together. He’s happily stuffing his junk into my stepsi
ster, so I’m not catching the next plane home. Don’t try to tell me what I will or won’t do.”

  “Stepsister.” Shit. “Sorry. I mean it. Look, I only have one question for you, and then I’m going to leave you the hell alone—forever. What was that stunt you pulled earlier?”

  Her smile comes and goes, quick as lightning. “You tell me. Is that the way you treat all the women who step into your office?”

  My jaw tightens. How could I screw up so badly? I thought when Stacy let her in—she was so fucking beautiful. My mind went straight to hell—and shit.

  “You thought I was your call girl.” A hard edge curves her lips. “When a woman walks into your office, you need to be cock-sure she’s your hooker, and you were just cocky.”

  “I’m sorry.” Neither of us moves. “I don’t toss apologies around, but I think I owe you much more than that. I’ll see to it that Kinsley doesn’t charge you rent. It’s the least I can do.”

  “No.” She steps in front of me with a fierce look of determination, my frame towering over hers. “There is one thing you can do for me, in the least.”

  “What’s that?” I stop shy of calling her Sin. I think that name game is long over. Hell, as soon as I found out she was a Cannon, it was game over.

  Her eyes dart over my features like frightened birds. “Finish what you started.”

  I stare at her an inordinate amount of time. That pale glowing skin, those determined grassy eyes. My body is all for finishing what it started. But she’s a Cannon.

  I won’t be finishing what I started. Not now, not ever.

  “Not happening.” I take off without looking back.

  Let the Cannons deal with their own. Let my sisters mother her to death for all I care. I’m staying away, no matter how bad I want to take just one last sinful bite.

  * * *

  The Trattoria is jam-packed with bodies, each jockeying to get the best seat in the Italian house. I bypass the crowd at the entry and head over to the usual table reserved for my sisters and me. We’ve been coming here for years, twice a week, religiously. Now, it’s down to just a day with the occasional plus one seeping into our midst. Normally, I would look forward to these few hours I get alone with my siblings as a relief from the minutia of everyday life, but the Cannon infestation has dwindled my appetite for these get-togethers down to nothing. My sisters—and now my tiny niece—are the only family I hold true. My father and mother are second to them, but they don’t know it. Daphne and Hans Lionheart think the universe revolves around them—more specifically, their money. And to a certain extent, it does. But internally, I could never wrap my head around the rejection my sisters have had to suffer with their entire lives at the hands of my mother, and to a lesser degree, my father. My mother has outright decried their existence, but my father has in the least offered them small monetary comforts as far as sending them to the finest schools and providing for their well-being until he was no longer legally obligated to do so. My sisters have both since married wealthy Cannons—assholes in my book—but they do love them.