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Saving Her: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance

Page 54

by R. R. Banks


  The last time that a man touched me had been so long ago I didn’t even want to think about it.

  To be honest, I didn’t really want to think about him touching me, either.

  I had spent too much time thinking about Virgil, what he thought of me, and what I was supposed to do to keep harmony between us, even when it became abundantly and excruciatingly obvious that that was completely in vain. Now I had broken free and I wanted to know what it was like to do something just for the sake of my own enjoyment, just so that I could know what it was like to have carefree, unfettered, non-manipulated fun.

  I waved away the bartender who was approaching me with the quintessential white towel tucked in the side of his belt, as though it was just waiting for the opportunity to wipe the counter aimlessly while I spilled out my troubles.

  Did people do that at weddings? Probably those with the “Pick a Side” signs.

  As I crossed the dancefloor that was starting to fill again, I caught the man’s eyes. I gave him a small smile, but he just looked back at me as if he wasn’t sure what that expression meant. He had gone back to looking between the pick in his hand and the fruit on the floor when I approached. I used the tip of my shoe to ease the strawberry under the edge of the tablecloth, trying to ignore the little voice inside of me that was horrified that I would do such a thing and instead listen to the child I used to be who would have likely scrambled under the table myself just to get away from all of the pomp and circumstance.

  When the strawberry disappeared, I leaned forward toward the man.

  “It’ll be our little secret,” I said in a whisper loud enough to be heard over the music that had suddenly filled the room, but that I hoped still had a sultry conspiratorial note to it.

  “Alright,” he said.

  He seemed like he was about to say something else when out of the corner of my eye I saw Noah and Snow approaching. She had bustled her dress and looked like she was gliding along as she held her new husband’s arm tenderly.

  “Well, it seems the two of you have met,” Noah said as he stopped by my side.

  “Not formally,” I said, flashing another smile.

  “Eleanor, this is Hunter. He’s been a dear friend of Snow’s for many years, has become one of mine, and is one of the most valuable people at Royal and Company.”

  That explained the glasses and the sense of need for organization and a to-do list that seemed to hover around him.

  “Hello, Hunter,” I said, extending a hand to him.

  He took it and gave a hearty pump worthy of any chess club president.

  That cinched it. He has absolutely no idea who I am.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Hunter,” Noah said, the hint of a laugh obvious in his voice. “This is Eleanor, my a—”

  “Elementary school teacher,” I said in a rush of words.

  “What?” Hunter, Snow, and Noah all said at the same time, looking at me.

  “Elementary school teacher,” I repeated, a little slower this time. “Third grade.” It was the first thing that had popped into my head, a lingering thought from the ceremony. I nodded emphatically, hoping that it would convince Noah and Snow to go along with me, and Hunter to believe what I was telling him. “He was my star student. Best coloring in class.”

  I reached out and patted Noah’s back, seeming to break him out of the stunned silence that had fallen over him. His eyes snapped from me back to Hunter and he started nodding as I was.

  “Yep,” he said. “Eleanor the Teacher. Taught me everything I know about…coloring.”

  “You didn’t know how to color in the third grade?” Hunter asked.

  “Oh, he did,” I said. “It was just nuances. You know…outlining…shading…choosing the Macaroni and Cheese Crayola over the generic orange. Details.”

  “Of course,” Hunter said, staring at the three of us as if he thought that he had fallen into some sort of alternate reality.

  The song changed and Snow turned to Noah.

  “I love this song,” she said.

  “Then we should be dancing to it,” he said. He looked between me and Hunter. “Why don’t the two of you join us?”

  I was surprised when Hunter put down the jewel-topped pick and offered his hand to me. I rested my hand to his, feeling a spark as soon as our skin touched. He guided me out to the dancefloor and turned me gracefully so that I settled into his arms. Our bodies moved together effortlessly, the music itself seeming to transport us away. Hunter wouldn’t make eye contact with me, but occasionally his gaze flickered past mine. His dance moves were measured and precise, but somewhat creaky as though he had been trained in these dances, but it was some time in the past and he hadn’t had much chance to use it.

  The music changed and Hunter started to pull away from me, but I tightened my hand over his.

  “Another one?” I asked.

  He looked at me, for the first time letting our eyes lock together for more than a moment, and nodded. The attraction that I had immediately felt for the man grew the longer we danced and by the time that Snow and Noah cut the cake, I was nearly breathless with need for him. This wasn’t something that I had ever experienced, and I was relishing every second of it.

  The new couple had swept out of the reception under a flurry of flower petals and bubbles when I turned to Hunter.

  “Are you staying in the hotel tonight?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “No.”

  “Well, I have a suite,” I told him. “Could I interest you in a nightcap? Toast Snow and Noah?”

  Hunter nodded.

  “Sure,” he said. “They asked me to take the guest book, though, so I’ll have to wait until everyone has kind of made their way out.”

  I smiled.

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just open up a bottle of champagne. Maybe I’ll order a little snack from room service. The sugar rush was a bit much for me.”

  I slipped him a key to my suite, enjoying the tremble in my belly as I did so, and swept out of the room. As soon as I got into my suite, I rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. After a fast bath I changed into a slinky nightgown that could almost pass as a dress and shook my hair down. I refreshed my makeup and was just pouring glasses of champagne when I heard the door open. I turned toward the door and saw Hunter step in. His eyes locked on me and I saw a flash in their green depths. Without thinking, I crossed the room to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my mouth to his.

  Hunter seemed to welcome the kiss. His hands came to my waist, settling on my lower back and pressing me up against him. Our mouths played across each other for a few moments before I started to guide him back toward the sofa in the center of the room. I could have brought him to the bedroom but it was up a narrow winding staircase at the far end of the suite and, frankly, I didn’t have the patience to go that far. I wanted him right then, and it didn’t matter where we were.

  When we reached the sofa I toppled backwards, pulling him down with me. His weight pressed down on me and I lifted my leg to hook over his hip, drawing him closer. One hand came to my thigh, moving my skirt out of the way so that his fingertips could press into my skin. Suddenly his mouth broke away from mine and he pulled back. Hunter looked down at me, his eyes flickering over my face. I could see questions in his gaze and my hands tightened on his back, knowing what he was thinking. It didn’t matter though. He pushed back away from me, jumping to his feet.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered, starting to the door.

  I swung my legs around and sat up, my cheeks burning as I tried to cover myself.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Hunter glanced back and me, but then shook his head and rushed out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

  When I was over the humiliating shock enough that I was able to move, I got up and walked over to the table where I was pouring the glasses of champagne with Hunter arrived. I downed both glasses in quick succession before grabbin
g the bottle and carrying it off to the bedroom so that I could tuck myself into bed and nurse the rejection.

  I was still feeling the fog of the bottle of champagne and the good cry that came from a truly simpering romantic movie the next morning when I dragged myself out of bed. I would have loved to have called down to the front desk to arrange for a late checkout and continued to sleep, but when my alarm went off I remembered that I didn’t have the time for that. I needed to get up, pack, and call for my car so that I could get to the cruise ship on time. I had arranged for a celebratory cruise for several people from the wedding as a special gift for Noah and Snow, and I couldn’t really be a good hostess from a hungover stupor in a hotel bed, no matter how luxurious that bed might be.

  I dressed in my pink linen travel suit, topped it with a large-brimmed hat and huge dark sunglasses that thankfully looked sophisticated as they did their level best to conceal dark bags and worn skin that even the best of makeup couldn’t combat, and headed down to the lobby. My driver was already waiting for me and I breezed past the desk and into the idling car, waiting until the door was closed behind me to sag back against the seat and reach for one of the chilled sodas I kept tucked in a cooler. I pressed the can against my chest, hoping the cold would perk me up a bit, then popped open the can and guzzled down the almost painfully bubbly, sweet drink.

  Feeling slightly refreshed, I looked out the window as the car pulled away from the hotel and toward the marina. I intended to arrive to the boat early so that I could ensure that all of the cabins were properly prepared for the guests, but it would be a long enough drive that it would give me more time than I wanted to contemplate what had happened after the wedding. If I had my way, I would just erase that memory from my mind and continue on with my life without ever having to think about it again.

  I must have drifted off into a mercifully dreamless sleep at some point during the drive because suddenly I felt the car stop and heard the driver close his door. I scrambled to sit upright, wiping my face and straightening my hair. Dylan might have been driving me for longer than Hunter had been alive and seen me at virtually all stages of my life, but that didn’t mean that he needed to witness me drooling on myself in the backseat because I was still riding a little bit of a buzz and a whole lot of self-loathing.

  The sun was absurdly bright as I stepped out the car and looked at the ship. Seeing it gave me a bit of a boost. This was exactly what I needed. Some time away and the chance to have fun while also hosting some of the people who meant the most to Noah and Snow. I knew that my brother wasn’t going to be there. I had extended an invitation to him, but he was far too busy with all of his work to take time out just to take a cruise to celebrate his son’s wedding. It wasn’t intentional neglect. He wouldn’t purposely hurt Noah. He was just so far invested in the empire that our father had handed down to him, afraid every day that he would somehow lose it and our only remaining link to the man we both loved so much, that it was sometimes hard for him to think of anything else.

  I took a breath and started toward the ship. I would get in touch with the director and ensure that all of the arrangements that I had made for my guests had been handled, then I would settle into my cabin, take in a show, and be ready for a formal dinner that evening. The water surged as I stepped onto the boat and I pressed my hand to my suddenly swimming head as the deck swayed beneath my feet.

  Maybe I would dine in for the evening.

  End of Sneak Peek

  I hope you enjoyed that little sneak peek. This is just a small taste of all the fun shenanigans in store for you. Be on the lookout for Boy Toy early October 2017! – R.R. Banks

  Other Works

  Fake Marriage with My Friend

  *This is an exclusive short I wrote just for you, I hope you enjoy it! – R.R.

  Chapter One

  Veronica

  It's a beautiful October day in Southern California – the kind of day that reminds me of why I moved out here in the first place. The sun is out but there's a cool ocean breeze carrying the scent of the ocean. New York – where I grew up – had its own charms, but I actually feel like this is where I'm supposed to be. Much to my mother's chagrin.

  The weather isn't the only reason I bailed out of New York, but it certainly helps. No, I needed to leave some things in that past – where they belong – and start fresh. For us. We needed a new, blank page to start building our life on.

  I look down at Justin, my five-year-old son, and can't help but smile. He's the light of my life. My world. There is literally nothing I would not do for my boy.

  We're sitting on the patio of Oscar's, a quaint little cafe that sits just off PCH, giving us a view of the Huntington Beach pier and the Pacific Ocean. Brunch at Oscar's has been a tradition for a little while now – just me, Justin, and Caleb.

  “What are you thinking about?” Caleb asks.

  I take a sip of my mimosa and smile. “Just enjoying the day,” I say. “And a little quality time with my two favorite guys on the planet.”

  Caleb raises his glass. “I'll drink to that.”

  I giggle. “You'll drink to almost anything.”

  He shrugs and gives me a grin. “Guilty as charged.”

  “Is that good, sweetheart?” I ask.

  He nods, smiling around the big piece of his chocolate chip pancake he had stuffed into his mouth. Justin makes some sort of grunting noise I can only interpret as an affirmative response to my question.

  “Smaller bites next time, please,” I say. “You're a five-year-old boy, not a wild animal.”

  “Experts say both groups have a lot in common though,” Caleb says and winks at Justin.

  Caleb is my best friend. I met him shortly after I'd moved to California and we'd dated briefly. But the connection – that spark – just wasn't there between us. But we've been best friends ever since. I honestly cannot picture my life without him in it. I don't think I'd want to, to be perfectly blunt. He's my rock. My emotional support. When the whole world is falling apart around me, I know that Caleb will always be there to help me put it back together again, no questions asked.

  “So, how did your date with little Miss Prom Queen go last night?” I ask. “Did you have her home before curfew?”

  “Oh, you've got jokes this morning,” he chuckles.

  I shrug. “When your best friend is dating a girl, who looks like she's in high school, the jokes kind of write themselves.”

  “For your information,” he says. “She's a sophomore at UCLA. She's studying – something. I actually forgot her major.”

  “Oh, she goes to an actual college. That's impressive,” I reply. “And here I thought if she wasn't still babysitting, she'd be in cosmetology school or an online college or something.”

  “Lots and lots of jokes today,” he says.

  “You'd be disappointed if I didn't give you a hard time.”

  “This is true.”

  “So?” I ask. “How did it go?”

  He shrugs. “It was okay,” he replies. “Turns out she and I don't have a lot in common. Not a lot of chemistry there.”

  “I could've told you that,” I say. “Other than looking amazing in a tight dress – and believe me, I'm jealous as hell of how she looks – there didn't seem to be a lot going on upstairs.”

  He grins. “No, there really wasn't,” he says. “The conversation was less than lively. And you'd look just as great in that dress.”

  I scoff at him. “Hardly.”

  “It's true.”

  The waitress comes by to check on us, refilling our mimosas and ruffled Justin's hair, making him giggle uncontrollably. She gives us a smile and leaves again.

  “What about you?” Caleb asks.

  “What about me?”

  “When are you going to dip your toes back into the dating pool again?”

  “Probably when this one goes away to a good college.”

  I take a drink of my mimosa and look over at Justin, stroking his soft, dark hair. I'm glad to
see that he took after me a bit more than the sad sack of an excuse for a father he has. Except for the eyes – Justin's steely-grey eyes are definitely his father's. They'll knock the girls dead, but they're a reminder to me of the terrible man I'd allowed myself to get wrapped up in.

  But then, without that terrible man, I wouldn't have this little bundle of awesomeness in my life. Have to take the good with the bad, I guess. I just hate the idea of Justin getting old enough to start asking about his father. What am I supposed to say? As far as I know, his father – a scumbag named Glenn – is still doing time back in New York. Rikers or Sing Sing or someplace like that.

  The only thing I know for sure is that I'm glad to be out of there and away from all of that. Once Glenn went inside, I'd made up my mind to pack my things and head for California. I needed a fresh start for me, but most of all, I needed to put as much distance as possible between my son and that scumbag Glenn. There is no way in hell I'm ever going to let Justin have anything to do with that man. Never.

  “Come on, Veronica,” he says. “Don't you think it's time you get back on that horse? It's been how long since your last date?”

  My laugh sounds a little more bitter than I intend. “I think the last date I went on was with you.”

  “Exactly,” he says. “That was what, three years ago?”

  I shrug. “Give or take.”

  “You deserve to be happy. To have some fun,” he says and takes a sip of his mimosa.

  Justin looks up at me with wide eyes and a smile stretched across his face, pancake crumbs clinging to his lips. I pick up a napkin and wipe them away.

  “My life is all about this one right now,” I say, tweaking Justin's nose.

  “And nobody's saying you have to give that up,” Caleb says. “But leaving a little room for you to enjoy your own life at the same time isn't a bad thing.”

 

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