by Nikki Groom
“I’d like that. Can I cook you breakfast?”
“I don’t know. Can you cook?”
“Smart ass. I’ll have you know that I make the best pancakes and bacon. Now, go get some clothes on that hot little tush.”
Denham steps to the side and swats my ass as I walk past and I squeal and jog to the bedroom, unsure if he’s going to follow. I secretly want him to, but I know he won’t. He’ll be the gentleman and give me space to get dressed without the distraction of his impressive body and the risk of us hitting that damn wall he’s decided to put up.
I throw on dark blue jeans and a white tank, then rake a brush through my unruly hair and tie it all up in a messy bun. I decide against putting shoes on as we are only going across the hall. “Okay, let’s go, chef,” I call out as I walk back through the lounge.
Denham is in my now favorite spot on the balcony. The morning sunlight dances across his broad shoulders and I take him in as he takes in the world below. His triangular torso is sculpted to perfection— the kind of body that makes your fingers itch with the desire to touch. If he stood still in the street, I’m sure he would have people stopping just to admire.
He turns and smirks. “Ready for breakfast, Stunner?”
I nod, and he steps into me, taking my hand in his and kissing my cheek before leading me through the penthouse. He pulls open the door with his free hand, strides through, then stops abruptly. I slam into his shoulder and look up to find a tall, skinny blonde propped against the wall by the elevator. She looks almost as surprised to see us as we do her, but she composes herself quickly and slips on a mask of confidence.
“Well, well, well …” the blonde says, drawing the words out. “What do we have here? A little whore to keep you busy for a few days?”
Denham strides forward, taking me with him. His grip on my hand is tight, bordering on uncomfortable. “What the hell are you doing here?” he grates out.
“It seems we do have things to discuss after all ...” the blonde replies, starting to look smug.
“Like what? The only thing I’m discussing with you is which way you are going to leave this building.”
“Denham, baby, that’s not very well mannered of you. You haven’t even introduced me to your … friend.” She looks me up and down, taking in our joined hands and curls her lip. The way she calls him baby makes my hackles rise and I’m consumed with jealousy that she uses an endearment for him. I’m also repulsed.
I’ve never felt such an intense dislike radiating from someone, the way it’s coming from Denham at this moment. I know his grip on my hands indicates that he still wants me here, but I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable. “I’m going to leave—”
“No,” Denham barks. “You’re not going anywhere. Amy was just leaving.” He steps forward and pushes the button for the elevator. He still has my hand, so when he moves I’m jerked forward. I wiggle my fingers to free myself of his grasp, but he tightens, not letting me go.
“Denham, you seem to have lost your manners. I don’t know why you’re getting so uptight.” She speaks in a confident voice, but I don’t miss the underlying unease.
The elevator doors open and Denham gestures with his head toward them. Amy stands in the opening, one hand braced on the side, her body slightly twisted to show off her long twig like legs. She’s as tall as Denham, so she levels him with her slate-blue eyes. There’s no softness there; just a hard, cold sneer.
“Call me, lover,” she drawls, the sickly sweet sound of her voice making me want to punch her hard in the face. I’ve never taken such an instant dislike to someone. “This one you have here is pretty. Call me when you’re starting to get bored with her, maybe we can have a three-way. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, and I know how much you enjoyed it.” She ends her words with a loaded smile before stepping back and pressing the button to descend. She manages to blow a kiss just before the elevator doors close.
“Fucking woman!” Denham yells. He pounds the elevator door with his free hand out of frustration, and I finally manage to wiggle my fingers out of his grasp, but he spins and reaches for me, his face softening. “I’m so sorry, Arianna, Amy is …”
While he searches for the words, I fill them in for him.“Your ex? A bitch? Psychopathic?”
He lets out a strained laugh. “Yes, all of those things plus a few more.”
“Was she the one you were arguing with the other day?”
“Yes.” His brows crease. “How did you know that?”
“The door was ajar when I came back and I heard a guitar playing, so I stood to listen. Then there was yelling, and I didn’t want to stand there and hear it all. It was none of my business.”
I clasp my hands in front of me and wonder if I’m strong enough to deal with his complications. I have enough of my own without getting involved with a man who clearly has a very pissed off ex-girlfriend. Plus, there’s the little mention of him being involved in a three-way. I don’t know why that grates me, but it does. It’s totally irrational that I don’t want him to have had an experience like that, and it’s even more irrational that I don’t want him to have been with anyone else, ever, in that way. It’s jealousy that I can’t do anything about, but it’s there and I’ve never had to deal with it before.
“I’m sorry she was here. She must have been the one banging on my door this morning. When you heard us arguing it was because I’d taken her keys. She’s pissed at me for cutting her out of my personal life. I should have changed the code for the elevator …”
I just nod. If she hadn’t gotten up here, I might not have known about her at all, so best to get it all out in the open now. “You have any more ex-girlfriends I should know about?” I ask.
“None”
“Okay.” I hesitate before continuing. “Was she telling the truth about you having a threesome?” I don’t really know why I asked him that, but I want to know. I want to know what the chances are of him getting bored with me and needing more than I can give.
“Arianna.” He sighs. “I’ll tell you anything you want, but can we do it in my place? I don’t really want to discuss this in the hallway.”
He holds out his hand for me to take and I gingerly place my hand in his. He holds it tenderly and smiles to reassure me as we walk through his apartment. He seats me at the breakfast bar and says nothing until he’s made me a coffee and changed into jeans and a black tee. It’s such simple attire but really quite breathtaking on the right frame. And he has the right frame …
He rests his hands on the breakfast bar. “Can we talk while I cook?” he asks.
“Sure, you can talk and cook. I’ll listen.”
I watch him move around his kitchen, silently collecting ingredients for breakfast. He puts some bacon under the grill and whisks a mixture together for pancakes. “I’m sorry you had to bump into Amy like that. I would have told you about her you know?”
I raise my brows at him and say nothing.
“Okay, here it is in a nutshell … You know my dad died three years ago. Well, it was unexpected …” He takes a deep breath before he continues. “He was shot. We never expected anything like that could happen to our little family and it chewed us up and spat us out. The Kingdom had debts and was in trouble. Although I worked with him every day, I never knew the extent of the trouble it was in. I needed investors or it was going to be closed down. Amy invested. She is a silent partner in The Kingdom, and we were kind of together for a long time. It was comfortable, convenient.”
He looks up through his dark lashes warily, bracing his arms on the counter. “If I had an itch, she scratched it. It was the same for her too. We used each other. It was unfulfilling, and was never meant to be long term. Before your crazy mind starts ticking away and coming to all the wrong conclusions, that is not what’s happening here. You’re not some meaningless distraction that I want to forget about.”
I nod slowly, taking it all in and processing his words. It’s a lot to process. I didn’t actu
ally need him to tell me what was happening between us, and I’m hyper aware that what is happening with us is not meaningless.
“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” I say, a little stunned “So you’re not grooming me to join in with one of your three-way sessions with her?” I look at him pointedly and he visibly shrinks.
“NO. I hate that she brought that up. Yes, we did it once, but like I said, she and I were insignificant.” He comes around to where I’m sitting and grips the back of the chair, turning me so I’m in front of him. He pushes my knees apart with his legs and settles between them, then his hands cup my face and he tilts my head until we’re looking directly at each other.
“I know you must think I’m selfish and shallow after this morning, but I’m not. I will not share you whether it’s male, female or battery operated. I will be everything you need me to be and I’m damn sure I can satisfy you enough for you to never look any further.” His determined explanation goes some way to reassuring me that I’m not a pawn in their twisted idea of a relationship. “We have something Ari. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something. Everything is different with you, and I don’t intend to let that go. When I see that sparkle in your eye, and it’s coming in my direction, I feel like I’m holding all the aces.” He searches my eyes for a reaction to his honest words. “Does that scare you?” he asks sincerely.
“Yes,” I answer honestly “It terrifies the hell out of me. I’ve been in two relationships, and both have ended badly. I don’t want to be hurt again.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
I believe him.
He’s right. This does feel different to anything else I’ve ever felt. I’m opening my heart wide and it scares me.
The smell of burning breaks the moment.
“Shit!” Denham flies around the breakfast bar and pulls some very black bacon from the grill, then drops the pan on the countertop and mutters expletives.
Laughter bubbles out of my chest. “Breakfast smells good, chef.”
“You! You distracted me, I can’t cook you breakfast with distractions.”
“Me? I didn’t do anything!”
“You look too good. You smell too good. You taste too good …” His eyes narrow and he starts to walk painfully slowly toward me. I feel my nerves start to twitch as anticipation starts to take over.
It’s a face-off.
I’m determined not to break first, but my nerves get the better of me and I hop off the stool and run toward the balcony doors. He breaks a split second after me, but with the length of his legs and obvious prowess, he’s faster. I manage to get to the leather couch before I’m tackled and brought down, trapped under his body as adrenaline runs rapidly through both of us. Giggling and panting hard, we lie together in a heap of tangled arms and legs. I have no doubt that I will never be left wanting with this man.
He thrills me.
He electrifies my senses.
He warms my soul.
After burning his attempt at breakfast, Denham reluctantly decides that we should go out and eat.
I’m slightly shaken by the surprise meeting with Amy this morning, and disappointed that if I want to spend time with Denham, I’m going to have to deal with a crazy assed ex-girlfriend who’s sizing me up for a threesome. I find myself scanning the area surrounding us for any sign of her, and it doesn’t take long for my doubtful mind to start working overtime and going downhill. It seems so much easier to stay upbeat when all around good things are happening but the minute something happens to break my happy bubble, all the doubts and negativity come screaming toward me and I can’t makes sense of it all. By the time breakfast arrives, I’ve lost my appetite, so I drink my coffee and push my food around my plate. I automatically answer when Denham speaks but I can’t disguise the fact that I’m distracted.
“Out with it.”
“Sorry?” I query.
“You’re distracted. There’s clearly something on your mind and I’m sure that by keeping it all inside, you’re making everything ten times bigger. Talk it out.”
“Bigger? I’m not sure how it can be any bigger than it actually is.” My voice rises past the acceptable volume for a restaurant, but I can’t contain it. Denham slides his hand across the table, covering mine, but I snatch it away. “How dare you tell me I’m exaggerating. My husband hit me, hunted me down, and then almost went up in a ball of flames. I shouldn’t even be here because my ex fiancé beat me so bad he nearly killed me. And to top it all off, I’m not the only one that has a psychopathic ex!” I spit the words out, fast, furious and out of control.
“Arianna—” he speaks calmly, but I don’t let him continue.
“Don’t you fucking Arianna me. I don’t need this shit. I don’t need you. I just—”
Denham is out of his chair before I can blink the wall of tears away. He lifts me up and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into him, and I don’t try to fight him. I don’t want to. He strokes my hair, letting me sob into his chest as I cry, letting it all out like a caged animal that’s been given freedom for the very first time.
The steady heartbeat I can hear through Denham’s chest and the rhythmic feeling of his fingers in my hair has the calming effect that I need and finally the sobs escaping from my chest become quieter, turning into little hiccups. I release my arms from the tight bundle in front of me and encircle them around his waist.
The tension releases in his chest and he brings both hands up to my face, running his fingers past my temples and through my hair. He secures his hands at the nape of my neck and dips his head to kiss my cheek. Kissing the path of my tears, he kisses my closed eyelids with such tenderness it pulls at my heart, then his lips press softly on my bruised cheekbone, lingering there a fraction longer as if needing more of his tenderness to heal. He continues until no part of my face has been left un-kissed.
“I’m sorry. I—” The words catch on a sob.
“Don’t be sorry.” He nuzzles his head into mine. “You’ve been through a lot. I just … I want you to know that you don’t have to fight it all on your own. Don’t try to fight the things in your head, Arianna.”
“It’s always been that way, I don’t know any different.”
His muscles bunch at my statement. “That’s because you didn’t know me. I’m truly sorry that you have had to deal with all that shit on your own. If I could take it all away for you, I would, but I can’t. What I can do is help you now.”
“I need to see Aaron,” I blurt out of nowhere. “I need to explain everything to him.” I don’t know why I feel I owe him an explanation, I just do. I hate the lies. I hate living a lie. It’s taken me a while to try and get my head around things and I feel I need closure. “I’m sorry I made a scene.”
“Arianna, look at me. Do I look like I give a fuck what these people think?” I shake my head. “Then stop apologizing for being who you are. You need to yell? Yell. You need to cry? Cry. If I ever find the bastard that made you sorry for every goddamn breath you take, then I’m going to damage him beyond repair.” His voice has risen considerably and his shoulders have drawn back in taut ropes of muscle that are bunching under my fingertips. I feel a warm blanket fold around me at his words. He makes me feel protected.
“Can we please start today over?” I say hopefully.
He softens, kissing me on the forehead. “I have to do some work today. But I have someone I’d like you to meet first.” He takes my hand and starts to lead me out.
“Denham, wait. I’m not dressed to meet people. I have no makeup and … stop walking, will you?”
He stops and turns to me with amused expression.
“You look amazing as you are.” When I open my mouth to protest, he holds up a finger to my lips. “Do. Not. Argue.”
“I’m not going to argue, I promise.” I take a deep breath before continuing as I know he’s not going to like this. “Now that I’ve made a decision, I have to see Aaron before I can do anything. This is me taking control, okay? This is somet
hing I have to do to move forward …”
The air lingers between us before he answers. “Fine, but I’m coming too.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m fine to go on my own—”
“I’m coming. Let’s go.”
We hail a cab to the main hospital. It’s a short ride, but there is a tight silence as both of us look out of opposite windows, deep in thought but with our hands still joined and resting on my lap. I know Denham doesn’t want me to do this. He’s protective—not overbearing or obsessive, but he actually wants to look after me. I have to do this, though. I have to see Aaron and get some answers. Some kind of closure in that part of my life so that I can begin to move on.
The cab pulls up and Denham pays him before exiting and taking my hand a little tighter than he did before, I’m not sure if it’s a gesture of reassurance for me or him.
He strides to the main desk and commands attention from one of the nurses there. “I’m looking for an Aaron Jamesson,” he asks sharply.
The nurse puts on a friendly face and answers confidently, “And who might you be, sir?”
Denham pauses for a moment and I take the opportunity to step in and answer. “I’m Aaron’s wife,” I say, dropping Denham’s hand and placing both hands on the desk. Denham narrows his eyes at me and I can see that he’s not happy about it—at all. I stare pointedly at him, imploring him not to make a fuss here. I know that being Aaron’s wife will get me in to see him and that’s the only reason I did it. Holding someone else’s hand while professing to be married to someone else would not have been convincing. I don’t miss the nurse glance toward my ring finger where, of course, she finds no wedding ring.
“If you’ll just give me a minute.” She taps on the keyboard in front of her. “I’m sorry, but it appears that Mr. Jamesson checked out early this morning. That’s all I can disclose.” She smiles a public service smile before going back to her work.
I’m disappointed. Not because I really wanted to see him, I wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest, but I feel lighter having made the decision to come here and face him. I feel stronger for taking control and doing something about my situation. Now, it’s out of my hands and all I can do now is look forward.