by Aly Martinez
“I wish I could apologize, but you kinda deserved it.”
“I did,” he agreed immediately. “And, for the record, I’m sorry.”
“So…did you observe anything good?” I asked to change the subject.
“Actually, yes.”
I leaned in close and whispered, “Anything you care to share?”
He shrugged and lifted his coffee to his lips while keeping his gaze trained on mine. “I don’t know,” he said, setting it down. “You have anything to share about Friday night?”
I smiled. “Are you proposing a mutually beneficial exchange of information?”
“Perhaps.”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. His gaze drifted down, sliding all the way to my ballet flats then back up again. I fought the chill. And lost.
His lips seductively curled up. “So, what do you say?”
I steepled my fingers under my chin. “Depends. What kind of information could you possibly have that I’d want to know?”
He tipped his chin at the men huddled around the boxes on the counter. “Well, one of your so-called friends is avoiding you. Another is talking shit behind your back. And another wants to fuck you so hard that his balls are aching. Tell me why you were freaking out on Friday night and I’ll fill in the names for you.”
“No fucking way,” I exhaled dramatically.
“Way,” he confirmed, leaning forward and propping himself on a forearm. “Now, spill it. I remember following you into the pantry. You were crying, but I can’t for the life of me remember why. What were we talking about?”
I leaned in until I was only inches away from his face and kept my voice low. “I meant no fucking way am I taking that bait. I already know the answers.”
He arched an eyebrow and twisted his lips. “Okay, then, little Ms. Know It All—who’s avoiding you?”
I laughed. “Leo. He’s been avoiding me ever since I put the menu for this year’s Thanksgiving dinner on his desk. See, I’m the official—or unofficial, depending on who you ask—planner and host of Guardian’s Thanksgiving Feast. It’s only unofficial because Leo took my title away last year when Johnson ratted me out for not sticking to the budget. Yes, it was an extra three thousand dollars out of my own pocket, but I hired a chef and a full staff. My boys work hard and deserve more than just a turkey and boxed stuffing. They don’t half-ass anything when it comes to me. So yeah, I said fuck the budget and full-assed Thanksgiving. Leo will get over it.” I shrugged. “He kinda has to, considering I’ve already booked the chef again.” I lifted a finger in the air and added, “Third Thursday in November. My place. Save the date.”
He barely contained his mirth as he said, “You full-assed Thanksgiving?”
“Damn straight.”
That time, his lips didn’t twitch; they jumped straight into a grin.
I raked my teeth over my bottom lip, and he followed the movement with his eyes.
Still watching my mouth, he prompted, “And the one talking shit?”
“Devon. Let me guess: He’s telling everyone I’m a stripper?”
His brow furrowed. “You know about this?”
I clutched a hand over my heart. “Awww, I love that he’s been talking about me. It means he’s thinking about me.”
“No. What it means is he’s thinking about you naked and on a pole.”
I waved him off. “Devon’s harmless.”
“Harmless, yes. But he’s telling everyone in a fifty-mile radius that you’re a stripper.”
“Nah, he knows better than that. No one believes him anyway. You’ll find all of the guys think I have a different job. I like to keep them on their toes.” I made a show of glancing around us, and then I whispered, “Truth is I’m actually an aquatic veterinarian to the stars. Mum’s the word.”
“Aquatic veterinarian to the stars,” he repeated dryly.
“Yep. You can call me Dr. Koi.”
“Jesus Christ. You really are crazy.”
“Actually, what I am is private,” I informed. “Unfortunately, I’m also very social. Making friends is hard when you aren’t willing to tell them what you do for a living. And you’ll learn that the men of Guardian are more than just my friends. They’re my family. So yeah, they all get a different piece of me that allows them to accept me into their life, all while I keep my personal life private.”
He eyed me curiously. “And my piece of you is an aquatic veterinarian to the stars?”
“For now.” I grinned.
“Right. And what about Johnson? What kinda piece of you does he have?” he asked in the rough tone of Asshole Jude.
Only it made my stomach flutter this time. Was he jealous?
“Johnson’s…different.”
“Right. Of course,” he said, jerking his chin to someone over my shoulder. “What’s up, man?”
Lark twisted the chair beside me around and then straddled it, crossing his arms over the back of it. “Devon says you’re looking for a babysitter.”
“Desperately,” Jude sighed. “My stepdaughter’s flying in tonight. But I’ve got the senator’s son detail on Saturday. You know someone reliable?”
“I do. She’s fucking amazing. I fear sometimes my girls love her more than they do me.”
“Think I can get her number?”
“Sure.” Lark cupped my shoulder. “Rhion, give Levitt your number.”
Jude blinked.
I smiled huge. “I’d be happy to watch her.”
“Um…” He stalled, flashing his gaze to Lark. “Is the babysitter gig a piece of you?”
“No. Lark thinks I’m a tattoo artist.”
Lark looked at me in disgust. “I’m sorry. I think you’re a tattoo artist? Are you not?”
I patted his arm. “Of course I am, honey.” I tossed Jude a wink that made him chuckle. “All I meant is that babysitting is a real piece of me. I love kids. I keep Lark’s girls at least once a month. And I sit for Leo and Sarah sometimes, too.”
“Holy shit,” Lark breathed. “If you don’t do tattoos, are you seriously a stripper?”
“Shh…” I urged, leveling him with a glare that made Jude’s chuckle become a belly laugh.
Lark turned his disbelief on Jude.
To which Jude shrugged and said, “Mum’s the word.”
I didn’t know much about Jude. Whether he was a Republican or Democrat. If he liked football or baseball. If he liked his eggs scrambled or fried. But, right then, a piece of me fell in love with him.
Lark cussed under his breath, and I felt him staring at me, but my gaze remained anchored to Jude’s smirking face.
A few seconds later, Johnson announced that team meetings were about to start and Lark got up and left. Jude never tore his eyes off me as he folded out of his chair and then rose to his feet.
My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him bend, his mouth heading toward me. I prepared myself by licking my lips. He was going to kiss me. I was sure of it.
He didn’t.
But what he did do was whisper in my ear, “It was me.”
“What?” I breathed, swaying toward him.
His hand caught the back of my neck. “The third guy. That was me.”
My breath caught.
“One of your so-called friends is avoiding you. Another is talking shit behind your back. And another wants to fuck you so hard that his balls are aching.”
A fire consumed me as he right himself. The kind of fire that burned within and only he could extinguish.
“Jude,” I whispered.
He dropped his hand, but I still felt it on the back of my head as if he’d branded me. The sweetest burn of all.
“I’ll get your number from Lark and text you the details about Saturday.”
If the hummingbirds in my stomach were any indication, the second I opened my mouth, a short story was going to come out. I saved myself the embarrassment and him the time by going with a short nod.
“It’ll be fine,” she assured.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right,” I told the windshield of my Jeep as I drove toward Guardian.
Val’s hand landed on my forearm and she squeezed. “Seriously, Jude. Chill. I’m eleven. The worst that could happen is she allows me to watch an R-rated movie.”
Or my worst nightmare could become a reality and I’ll find you both hanging out of the balcony window with flames shooting out around you.
Lark, Leo, and Sarah all assured me that Rhion was the best of the best when it came to kids, but I was still on edge about leaving Val.
However, part of that probably had more to do with Val than it did Rhion.
Ever since I’d picked her up at the airport the night before, she’d been acting strange.
She was too quiet. Too withdrawn. Too…not Val.
My bubbly girl with the infectious smile I’d left in LA only a few weeks earlier was not at all the sullen preteen I’d met at the airport. Sure, she’d thrown her arms around my neck and hugged me just as hard as she always had, but that was where the similarities ended.
Valerie had always been thick. Her father was a three-hundred-pound former NFL linebacker. I’d figured it was genetic. It wasn’t as though she were a couch potato. She’d been a stand-out Little League softball player. However, when I’d met her at the arrival gate, it had been easy to see she’d put on a few pounds. That wasn’t the worrisome part though. For me, the alarm bells were ringing because she’d gained it so fast. It had only been weeks since I’d seen her last.
And then there was the fact that she’d had a stroke when I’d told her to change into something nice when we were getting ready to go to Rhion’s. My little girl, who used to love dresses and all things pink, had packed exactly three different outfits to come to my place for the long weekend: a gray track suit, a black track suit, and a navy-blue track suit. And every single one of them was a size too big.
Her hair was another huge difference. Val’s father was African American, and despite the fact that April had long, straight, blond hair, she’d gotten his dark curls. This time last year, Val would have spent an hour in the bathroom with a million different products and tools, straightening her hair into sleek locks that looked like her mom’s. Now, it was pulled up into a ponytail, which I couldn’t swear she had combed.
I knew she got enough shit about her appearance from her mother, so I’d decided to keep my opinions to myself, but I would talk to April about it the first chance I got.
“Smartass, I let you watch R-rated movies.”
She smiled up at me. “I know. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
God, I’d missed that smile. At least that was still the same.
“So listen, there’s something I need to tell you about Rhion.”
She ducked away from me until I lost my hold on her neck. “What kind of stupid name is Rhion for a girl anyway? That’s a boy’s name.”
“Hey,” I scolded, flicking my gaze to her. “Don’t call someone’s name stupid. She didn’t get to pick it any more than you did Valerie.”
“Whatever. It’s still stupid,” she mumbled under her breath as she stared out the window.
“Don’t whatever me. You know good and damn well that is not how we talk about people.”
“Right. Sorry,” she muttered sarcastically at the window.
Christ, if this was eleven, the real teenage years were going to be a bitch.
“All right. What’s going on with you? I bit my tongue when you ignored me all morning to play on your phone, but now…”
She didn’t even turn to look at me.
“Val,” I called.
She continued to ignore me.
I raised my voice. “Valerie!”
Nothing.
I squeezed the ticklish spot right above her knee.
“Stop!” she laughed, swatting my hand away.
“Oh, look. There she is!” I teased. “Glad you could finally join me.”
She laughed for a second longer before sobering. In a snotty voice, she snipped, “That was completely uncalled for.”
I barked a loud laugh. “Holy hell, you sound like your mother.”
She started giggling all over again. “I know! I’ve been perfecting that one all week.” She shimmied up straighter in her seat. “Listen to this one.” She dramatically cleared her throat. “Good Lord, Valerie. Take that hat off. You look like Justin Bieber.” Then she finished in April’s voice with, “Only fat and with no style.”
I sucked in a sharp breath and kept my hand on her knee as my other clamped hard around steering wheel. That chat with April just got moved up from the first chance I got to the minute I could get Val out of earshot.
“You’re beautiful,” I said immediately. “Your mom… She’s…”
I knew that April had talked crap about me after the divorce, but I’d refused to ever follow her down that path. Especially where Val was concerned. But how did I say, Your mother is a raving, self-centered bitch who doesn’t deserve to stand in the same room with you, much less be called a mom, without it sounding bad?
“So, what do I need to know about Rhion?” she asked when I didn’t finish my thought.
I gritted my teeth and did my best to keep the blistering rage out of my voice as I growled, “Your mom’s wrong.”
She once again attempted to steer the conversation away from her. “I guess Rhion could be a girl’s name. How’s she spell it?”
“Val,” I bit out as I pulled into the underground garage at Guardian. After putting the Jeep in park, I undid my seatbelt and twisted in my seat to face her. Leaning my back against the door, I ordered, “Look at me.”
Her dark-brown gaze lifted to mine, and it felt like a razor blade slicing through me.
Tears sparkled in her eyes as she whispered, “I don’t want to talk about Mom anymore.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to talk. But you gotta listen to me for a minute. You know I’d never tell you to disrespect your mother. But there are certain times where I am gonna tell you to ignore her.” I cupped her jaw and tipped her head back. “This is one of those times, baby. She says stupid shit sometimes. But that’s on her—not you. Your mom’s spent her entire life trying to make you just like her, and the older you get, the clearer it’s becoming that you aren’t her mini me. You’re better.”
“Psssh. Yeah, right,” she scoffed, trying to look away.
I tightened my hold and forced her gaze to remain on me. “Trust me, baby. I’m a man. Women are my specialty. And I’m telling you right here, right now. Your mom is wrong. You’re one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. And, if anyone ever tries to tell you differently, they’re gonna have to deal with me.”
Her lips disappeared as she sucked them into her mouth and fought tears back.
“Tell me you understand, Val,” I pushed.
She didn’t say anything, but she nodded and lifted her hand to cover mine at her jaw.
“Good,” I soothed. “Now, I’m gonna have a talk with your mom tonight. I don’t want you worrying about that, either.”
“No! What if she—”
“She’s not going to take you away from me. It’ll be fine. Trust me.”
A tear finally escaped her eye as she said, “Okay.”
I grinned and shifted my hand down to her neck. “Now, quit cryin’, crazy. You’re on vacation.”
She sniffled and repeated, “Okay.”
I touched my lips to her forehead before swinging my door open and folding out. After grabbing her messenger bag out of the backseat, she met me at the bumper.
“Thanks, Jude,” she whispered, looping an arm around my hips.
I draped mine over her shoulders and smarted, “Oh, don’t try being polite now. I was getting used to you ignoring me.”
She giggled, and together, we strolled to the elevator.
“Hey, Jude,” she said softly as I pressed the button to the third floor.
“Yeah, baby?”
“You
, umm…think, maybe…um…we could go shopping while I’m here? It’s just I hate going with Mom.”
I smirked and looked down at her. “I don’t shop, Val.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” She tipped her head at the ground and became enthralled with her shoes.
“But, if my girl wants to go shopping, I’m gonna take her shopping.”
Her head snapped up, her round face beaming at me. “Really?”
I chuckled. “I’m offended by how surprised you look right now.”
When the doors to the elevator opened, we both stepped off.
“Good. I need some new bras. We can get those, right?” she asked.
I nearly choked on my tongue as we walked to Rhion’s door. “Uh…”
I wasn’t much of a shopper. But I really wasn’t much of a shopper when it came to buying bras for my preteen daughter.
She giggled. “I’m kidding.”
I blew a ragged breath out, which made her laugh louder.
While knocking on the door, I attempted to silence her with a glower, but I could feel the smile pulling at my lips.
It wasn’t until the door opened that I realized I’d never had that talk with Val about Rhion.
“Holy crap!” she gasped.
Rhion was wearing a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved, v-neck T-shirt, exposing not only the tattoos on her arms, but also the ones across her chest, which stopped slightly under her collarbone. My eyes were instantly drawn to the subtle cleavage.
But that’s not what Val saw.
“She has scars like you, Jude.”
My lips thinned and I flashed a pair of wide eyes at Rhion in apology.
She shot a pair right back in my direction, but a smile split her face.
After Rhion had left the office the day before, I hadn’t been able to get her off my mind. In my nightmares, I’d always thought of her as that broken butterfly teetering on the edge of death. But, after ten minutes with that crazy woman, I knew I couldn’t have been more wrong. She was very much alive. Her laugh. Her smile. Her sense of humor. Anyone would tell you Rhion Park was gorgeous. But, when she opened her mouth, it was a different kind of beauty. The kind that had a way of working under a man’s skin.