“About what?”
“About some guy that isn’t me making a move on you. About me not being clear enough with you about what this is. I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t want to see anyone else.”
“We went out dancing. That was it.” Now I’m all swoony and sappy, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Last time you went dancing there was a lineup of dicks waiting to rub on your ass.”
“I don’t want to see anyone else either.” I say nothing about being rubbed on, because that happens no matter what. “Now can you stop talking and let me go to sleep?”
“’Kay.” He burrows through my hair until his nose tickles my neck. Then his lips find my shoulder. He snuggles in, a few minutes later he shoves the throw pillow out of the way and wraps himself around me.
I feel warm and safe as I drift back to sleep. Maybe too safe, and that scares me, because it feels like I’m giving this man my heart, even though I shouldn’t. Summer ends soon. And then what? Does he take my heart back to Manhattan with him while I have to go on here, alone? I have all these secrets I’m keeping, and who knows what will happen when my skeletons eventually claw their way out of the closet.
* * *
I sleep until noon. It’s blissful. I freeze mid-stretch and realize I’m not alone in my bed. Memories of the bar from last night filter through. Shots. Dancing. Telling some jerk that my butt was not a place for him to grind. Panic sets in for half a second, until the familiar scent of Pierce’s cologne and the perfect fit of his body against mine registers, and I can relax.
“You forget I was here?” Pierce’s voice is sleep raspy.
“I thought I brought home a random, actually.” Only for about half a confused second.
I grin at the sudden stiffness in his body. Then yelp when he pinches my butt. “Not funny.”
“Ow. Where’s your sense of humor?” I rub my rear, which means I inadvertently rub his penis, through the barrier of clothing, but still.
He exhales a heavy breath. “It disappeared with my girlfriend last night.”
I roll over to face him and cover my mouth with my palm. My mouth tastes like a toilet bowl. “I didn’t disappear. I went out with my sister. That’s allowed, you know.”
“I don’t like it when you’re not talking to me. And when I’m not invited.”
“You’re addicted to this, aren’t you?” I motion to what I’m sure is my very messed-up hair. I also don’t think I took off my makeup last night, so there’s a solid chance my mascara is smeared in raccoon-style circles under my eyes.
“Hopelessly.” He kisses the end of my nose, and then backs away so he’s not breathing his sleep breath in my face. “I want to take you out for dinner tonight.”
“Do you, now?”
“Mmm. In Manhattan. We can stay at my condo. I can have you all to myself.”
“You can have me all to yourself right here.”
“But your sister is across the hall. And all the beach houses are rented out or in various stages of reno, and not fit for a sleepover. Not the kind I want to have tonight, anyway.”
“Have you forgotten that your hand is the only action you’re going to see this weekend?”
“Right. Hmm.” He taps his lip. “That’s not a problem. We can make tonight all about you.”
“All about me, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“Dinner and sleepover without orgasms? That should be interesting.”
“Oh, there will be orgasms. I just won’t get to have mine inside you.”
I shiver at the thought of how creative he’s going to get with that, and whether I’ll be able to stand by my own boycott.
I put on a pot of coffee and Pierce hangs out in my bedroom while I shower off last night’s sweat. Pierce lounges on my bed with a coffee mug and a plate of sugar cookies—I’m sure my bed is full of crumbs, but I’ll deal with that later—while I set to packing an overnight bag. I torture him by parading around in a bra and panties while showing him dresses for tonight’s dinner. I drag the entire thing out for as long as I can, and I end up changing my panties three times to make him sweat.
I think’s it’s probably as torturous for myself as it is for Pierce, but I’m willing to suffer because his discomfort is empowering.
At two thirty, as we’re getting ready to leave, Pierce gets a call from his brother. “What are you talking about? They’re what?” His eyes lift to mine and then narrow. “Can you take care of it? They’re in which rental? Fuck. The new guests are supposed to be there in an hour. Just put them in the shed and I’ll deal with them tomorrow when I get back. Fine. Fine. I’ll come help. I’m on my way.”
I smile serenely at him. “Found the gnomes, huh?”
“Well played, Rian. I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in helping me get rid of them.”
“Oh, I did that yesterday, all by myself.”
“I’ll be back in an hour. You better be ready. And I think we might need to renegotiate the terms of tonight’s date.” He kisses me on the cheek and leaves me to finish packing.
CHAPTER 25
FREE FALL
RIAN
It’s almost five by the time Pierce returns. There were a lot of gnomes. And since they’d been in the garden, there was a mess of dirt to clean up. Apparently he needed a shower when he was finished. I’d like to say I feel bad, but I don’t, considering what he put me through yesterday.
I’m already dressed for dinner—the gnome situation having delayed our departure, so we’re heading straight to the restaurant instead of stopping at his condo first. The drive to Manhattan is rife with sexual tension, likely because I’ve told Pierce there won’t be any scoring at the end of the night. I’m not 100 percent convinced I’ll be able to stick to that. Not with him looking so delicious in a crisp black suit. Or with every other sentence out of his mouth dripping with innuendo.
It’s been ages since I’ve been to the city. I’m nervous as we pull up to the valet and my door is opened for me. I feel like some kind of imposter when Pierce links arms with me and guides me inside. I’ve been to this restaurant before, a long time ago, I realize, back when Broadway theater was a regular occurrence and a night in a luxury hotel was the norm for my family.
“Mr. Whitfield, it’s so nice to see you! It’s been too long.” The host takes his hand in both of his, shaking it warmly.
“It certainly has.”
“Your father was here last week and mentioned you were spending the summer in the Hamptons.”
When Pierce smiles. It’s warm but his voice holds a hint of tightness. “Just enjoying the beach.”
“Lovely, I’m sure.” The host, whose tag reads Karl, turns his smile on me. “And who is this stunning masterpiece you’ve brought with you tonight?”
I laugh as he bends to kiss the back of my hand.
“This is Miss Rian Sutter, with an i instead of a y.”
“Well, Miss Rian with an i, we’re very glad you’re joining us this evening.” He turns his attention back to Pierce. “Give us a moment and we’ll make sure your table is ready. Would you like to have a seat at the bar while you wait?”
Pierce defers to me.
“That sounds perfectly lovely.” I smooth a hand self-consciously over my hip, wishing I had a nicer dress, that I could match Pierce in his designer suit, instead of my bargain-find dress and knockoff shoes and purse. I know it doesn’t matter to him, but again I feel like an imposter. Someone who doesn’t quite fit in this world anymore.
Pierce’s palm rests against my low back as he leads me to the bar.
“How often do you bring dates here, Mr. Whitfield?” I ask quietly.
Pierce dips his head and presses his lips to my temple. “You would be the first, Miss Sutter. Usually I come here with my family.”
“They won’t be here, will they?”
He chuckles. “Absolutely not. I want you all to myself tonight. And there is no way in hell I would spring something like th
at on you without warning. My family requires preparation and shots to endure.”
“Amalie is sweet.”
“So she’ll have you believe.”
He leads us toward two open stools. “Excuse me, are these taken?” he asks, hand already on the back of the one beside a woman in a slinky black dress.
A diamond-clad hand flutters in the air, so close to my face that I take a step back into Pierce’s chest to avoid getting hit. “Not at a—” Big brown eyes go wide, and her mouth forms a pouty o. “Pierce!”
I feel him stiffen behind me, the hand on my shoulder tightening. “Stacey.”
She swivels in her chair, eyes sliding over me to Pierce. “What a surprise! I didn’t think you were due back in town for a few more weeks. Has everything been cleared up with the patent?”
“We’re here for the weekend.” His fingers glide down my arm and settle on my hip as he pulls me possessively into his side.
Her gaze finally shifts my way, as if she’s just noticing me. “Oh? Is this a friend?” Her smile is far from warm, it’s assessing and judgmental as she takes me in. She’s clearly very comfortable in her Louboutin shoes and her designer everything. Her hair is cut in a chic bob, lipstick perfect, lashes extended, her size-two figure maintained by God only knows how many hours of Pilates and I hope plastic surgery. I feel small under her assessment. And very much out of place.
“This is my girlfriend, Rian,” Pierce practically grits the words.
I have no idea who this woman is, but my disdain for her is immediate and I have a strong urge to protect Pierce from her, which seems ludicrous considering he’s clearly more than capable of taking care of himself.
“Girlfriend?” She presses her perfectly manicured hand to her chest. “Oh bless! Isn’t that sweet? Do you live in Manhattan, Rian, is it? What an interesting name.”
I would like to gouge this condescending bitch’s eyes out with a dessert spoon. “No. I live in the Hamptons.”
“Oh! Very nice. You’ve been playing around in the housing market out there with your brother this summer, haven’t you, Pierce? Getting your hands a bit dirty.” Her nose wrinkles, and I bristle at the comment, certain it’s directed at me.
“And how do you know Pierce, exactly?” I ask.
Her grin widens and she bats her lashes. “We were engaged. Young love, you know how it is, sometimes it doesn’t work out.”
“That’s so true.” I thread my fingers through Pierce’s. “Especially when you’re a ladder-climbing gold digger with no moral compass. I certainly hope this engagement works out for you, and that your current fiancé makes you as happy as I’m sure you made Pierce.” I turn and put a hand on his chest. “We should see if our table is ready. I find the bar in this place to be a little classless.”
Pierce bites back a smile as he skims my cheek with gentle fingers. “I couldn’t agree with you more.” His eyes stay on mine, his gratitude clear as he nods a cold acknowledgment to his ex-fiancée, and we head back to the host stand.
He squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry about that. I really didn’t expect to see her, especially not here of all places.”
“Don’t apologize. We can go somewhere else if you want. We can even go back to your condo if you’d rather order takeout.”
“No. We’re here now, and I don’t want her to ruin our night. I’ll make sure there’s no way she’ll be seated anywhere near us.” He frowns. “Unless you want to go. I don’t want this to be uncomfortable for you.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about. I’m more than willing to go toe-to-toe with that woman. I’ve been lifting sheets of drywall this summer; I’m pretty sure I can take her on if you want me to.”
He laughs and bends to kiss me softly. “God, you’re something else.”
It turns out we don’t have to wait, and Pierce has a brief, whispered conversation with the host whose brows dip and then rise. We’re led to the back of the restaurant, to a secluded, private room and seated at an intimate table for two with a curved, high-backed bench seat, covered in plush velvet so we can sit beside each other instead of across the table.
Pierce orders a bottle of champagne, and I peruse the menu, cringing at the prices. “This place is exceedingly expensive.”
He tilts his head, a questioning smile tipping his mouth. “I’m taking you out for dinner. You can do all the math you want in your head, but you’re not covering half and you don’t owe me anything.”
I laugh but I feel too warm, too exposed. Running into his ex-fiancée, this dinner, him calling me his girlfriend, knowing I’m spending the night in his condo. I’m not prepared to deal with the serious feelings I have for this man.
“I think we’re past the point of pretending I don’t have money, Rian.”
“I know.” I stare at the menu, overwhelmed, afraid to like this, to want this.
“You deal with people who have excessive amounts of money on a regular basis. Why does this make you so uncomfortable? Is it because of Stacey?”
“No. Stacey has no bearing on anything.”
“Then what is it?”
I exhale a slow breath, debating how much I can, or should, reveal. I need to give him something, maybe not the entire truth, but part of it, especially with everything that’s already happened tonight. “It wasn’t always like this for Marley and me.”
“Wasn’t always like what?” Pierce shifts so his knee brushes mine under the table.
I adjust the silverware on the table so both knives are perfectly parallel with each other. “When we were young, before our parents…” I clear my throat, unable to find the right words. “We had money. Things weren’t always a struggle.”
“You’re doing incredibly well. You should be proud of what you and Marley have accomplished.”
I nod. “I know. And I am. But we were in a very different place when we were teenagers. My grandparents … They owned a lot of property. I wasn’t quite honest with you about the Mission Mansion.” At his questioning look, I elaborate. “My grandparents weren’t friends with the owners; they were the owners.”
I’ve given Pierce enough information to uncover the whole truth if he digs. Who my parents really are. How my world fell apart all those years ago, and how Marley and I have had to fight our way out of debt and a ruined family name. Part of me is relieved, and part of me is terrified. I remind myself that the expiration date on us is fast approaching.
Pierce blinks, his shock obvious. “Why didn’t you say anything before now? Why keep that a secret?”
I trace the edge of the steak knife. “It’s hard to talk about it. Seeing it all the time and having all of these memories connected to it is painful. When my grandmother passed, we lost a lot, including the Mansion and everything in it.”
Pierce picks up my hand and brings my knuckles to his lips. “God. That must’ve been awful for you.”
“I just want it back. I know it’s not likely to happen, but all my best memories are wrapped up in that house.”
I can see the questions in his eyes, but the server arrives with the champagne, and any ideas I have about telling him the whole truth disappear. If he wants it, he can find it, with or without my help. And I’m okay with that. I think.
I drink champagne to calm my nerves—very expensive champagne—eat lobster for the first time in a decade, and listen to Pierce talk about how much he loves what he’s doing now, and how he wants to keep it up even after the summer is over. I don’t want to have hope that this will happen. And I fall. Faster and farther and deeper, because there are so many sides to him. So much I get to discover.
I’m afraid that when he eventually finds out the truth about me, it’s all going to go away, and how I probably deserve to lose him for not being completely honest in the first place. Now that I’ve accepted this connection we have, one that goes far beyond simple chemistry, I realize I should’ve been honest from the start. But it’s too late to take back the half truths and omissions. I tell myself that I’ll find the rig
ht time to explain it all to him, maybe in the morning. But tonight I just want to enjoy him. I allow myself to pretend nothing will change and that I’m not falling in love.
By the time we’re finished with dinner it’s after eleven. I’m tipsy. Okay, I’m actually pretty sure I’m drunk. Again. This is two nights in a row. My liver is going to hate me and stage a revolt.
I don’t pay much attention when we reach his condo. It barely registers that we bypass the bank of regular elevators in lieu of a set with PH on it. Pierce has to punch in a code then scan his thumbprint before the doors open.
“Is this your own personal elevator?” It’s supposed to be a joke.
“It’s dedicated. Watch your step.” He keeps his hand on the small of my back as we step inside, and he presses his thumb to an infrared keypad. The doors slide closed, and then we’re moving, but the ride is so smooth it’s hard to tell that we’re in motion.
Since we’re alone I take the opportunity to get in some elevator snuggles. I put a hand on his chest, and he backs up until he hits the mirrored glass wall. His smile is knowing, and maybe a little needy, fused with amusement. I fist his tie and tip my head back.
He grips the railing and dips down to brush his lips over mine. The whole night has been one big foreplay session, and I’m feeling a little impatient. There’s an edge of desperation I can’t calm, a prickling fear that this tenuous hold is about to break and tonight’s revelation is going to rip this all away from me. Maybe it’s because that’s what happened every time I had a boyfriend who found out about my family’s sordid past.
I can drown out the worry with touch. Pierce can make me forget all my fears, at least for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll open the door to the closet of my past and deal with the consequences. I slide a palm down his chest, skimming past his belt buckle to cup him through his dress pants.
He’s lightning quick, fingers circling around my wrists as he spins me around, clasping them in one hand behind my back. “I thought the only hand that was touching my dick this weekend was mine.” He sinks his hips into mine.
I Flipping Love You Page 22