Sexton Brothers Box Set

by Lauren Runow

  Not sure what to do or say, I walk into the living room, only to realize just how small my apartment is.

  I don’t want Charlie to hear us talking, so I open the window and climb out onto the fire escape. This little four-by-four platform has become my escape from reality, no matter how small it is.

  I take a seat on the metal grate and look up at the sky. The fog is thin tonight, and there’s a sweet smell of the ocean in the air.

  The distant sound of running water stops, and within seconds, Bryce appears on the other side of the window. With a raised brow, he inspects the size of it. Then, he lifts a foot onto the sill and climbs out.

  I scoot over toward the window to make room for him as he crawls through with ease and climbs over me, taking a seat against the railing.

  He stretches out his legs, so they’re dangling over the ladder heading down, and I elongate mine, so they’re propped up on the ladder that leads up.

  We sit in silence for a few moments. His body is pressed up against the side of mine. I feel the warmth of his presence, and instead of being nervous or unsure, I’m oddly at ease.

  “He’s a good boy,” he says after a while.

  I smile, glancing down at my lap. “He is.”

  “Is he why you’ve been avoiding me?”

  Looking up into his dark eyes, I answer honestly, “Yes.”

  His lips tilt up in a half-smile. “Is he the only reason you were trying to push me away?”

  I sway my head from side to side. “The Christine incident didn’t help. Neither does the stalking. About that—”

  “I took a chance,” he states. “Turns out, I have some pretty smart people who work for me. They didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know. They just told me what I needed to hear.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That you’re worth the rejection.”

  Well, damn. How do you respond to that?

  You don’t.

  Instead, I sit here as he runs his knuckle along my kneecap.

  “Tessa, I told you, I don’t lie. If you want to know why I’m here tonight, it’s because my life is a mess. I don’t know if I can keep my head on straight, and the only time I feel sane is when I’m talking to you. The only time I feel like I can breathe is when I’m with you.” He drops his hand to his lap as his head falls back to look up at the stars. “The only time I can sleep is when I’m thinking about you.”

  Despite the relaxed look on his face, there’s a pained expression in his eyes. It’s in the way the lines form on the sides as he closes his eyes. I might bring him sanity, but this man is exorcising a lot of demons within. It’s interesting how someone who can seem so put together, who appears to have it all, can be so tied up on the inside.

  I lean into him, and the scent of his cologne—cedar and tobacco with whispers of lavender—pours off his skin. This man who disrupted my life is now sitting on my fire escape, and instead of wanting him to leave, I’m finding solace in the fact that he’s here.

  That’s why I fall back to my spot and honestly tell him, “I know what you mean.”

  When his face looks back toward me, there’s a crinkle in his eye. I look the other way and bite my thumbnail.

  We sit in silence for a few moments. An ambulance drives down the street. We ignore it. Bryce’s leg stretches further out and brushes against mine. I shift my body, and my hand accidentally falls against his. I leave it there.

  He breaks the silence. “Is Charlie’s father here, in the city?”

  “No,” I say, folding my outer knee to my chest.

  “Is that a sore subject?” he asks so softly my heart sinks.

  I bite my inner lip and nod my head while glancing at the ground below.

  “Are you still in love with him?”

  “Charlie’s dad?” I ask, surprised, turning to him. “No. I haven’t seen Ashton in six years.”

  His eyes squint. “You mean …”

  “Charlie’s never met his father. He lives somewhere is Australia now.”

  “You’re doing this all alone?”

  I lift my head and hold my chin high, proud to be a single mom. “Yes, mostly. My mom comes up to visit from Berkeley every Sunday, and Charlie goes to visit his father’s parents once a month.”

  “And they’re okay with their son not being a dad to his own kid?”

  I let out a sharp laugh. “Let’s not go down that road.”

  “Truth or dare?” His question catches me off guard.

  “Truth.” I swallow.

  “Why were you afraid to tell me about Charlie?”

  I open my mouth and then stall. “I’ve never had to tell anyone about him. Everyone who knows me knows he’s my life.” Our eyes meet, and I know he understands what I mean. “Truth?” I ask, and he nods. “Would you be here right now if you knew I had a five-year-old son?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You know most men would run the other way if I told them right off the bat I had a son.”

  “Then, you didn’t want me to run, did you?”

  I drop my head back, laughing. “You’re twisting my words.”

  “You think men are scum. But I’m not like that.”

  “Oh, really?” I turn to him, bringing my knee up to brace myself better. “Do tell. How are you not like other men? Do you not fool around with your assistants?”

  “It was just a kiss,” he says rather loudly and then brings it back a bit. “And maybe a grab or two … but I stopped it. I swear.” He looks almost in pain to have to revisit the memory. “Dare?”

  “Truth.”

  He drops his head, playing with the bottom of his tie. “Is there any part of you that was happy I showed up tonight?”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek and try to lie. I can’t. “Yes.”

  He grins. “Truth.”

  “Do you want children someday?” I ask and then realize … “Wait. Do you have kids?”

  This time, he laughs. “No, I don’t. And, yes, I want children,” he says so easily, so nonchalantly.

  “Then, why don’t you have a wife and kids?”

  He gives a reluctant grin. “I work too much.”

  “Ah,” I draw out. “So, is this your way of telling me, this is all I’ll get? You showing up at eight o’clock at night with takeout?”

  “I don’t know what you’ll get. All I know is I want to find out.”

  I turn my head to hide my blush. “Truth.”

  “How big is your crush on Superman?”

  My eyes close in mortification. “I never said you looked like Henry Cavill. My coworker did. My turn. What’s the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Jumped out of a plane.” He nods. “The day my brother enrolled in the military. I told him if he didn’t die next to me, then there was no way he’d die away from me. So, we went skydiving together.”

  “You sound incredibly close.”

  “Me and Austin? It’s … complicated.” There’s a pinch to his brow, as if something just dawned on him. “The day after I met you, Missy referred to you as …” He pauses, as if stopping himself from what he was about to say and regroups. “Missy thought you were dating Austin.”

  I lower my head in embarrassment. “That’s because I kind of told her I was with him. Trust me; if I had known she was your guys’ wicked stepmonster, I never would have said anything.” My words make him laugh. It’s a boisterous laugh that echoes on the empty street. “Do you mind if I address her as the stepmonster from now on?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Okay, your turn.”

  “If you didn’t have Charlie, where would you be?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t even remember my life without him. New York, I suppose. I always assumed I’d do makeup for television, like on The Today Show, or movie sets or maybe work with runway models for fashion week. There are so many opportunities there. It was just a dream of mine.”

  “It’s a realistic dream.”

>   “Maybe. Someday. Not now. It’s too far from my mom, and Charlie needs family. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what I’d do out there. I’ve never been out of the state, let alone across the country.”

  “Are you serious right now?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. “Not even to Nevada or Oregon?”

  “Pretty pathetic, huh?”

  “Not at all.” His head tilts toward mine, his attention fixed on me as if I’m the only person in the entire city he wants to be talking to. “You’re dedicated. You’re a mother. That’s worth more than a passport filled with stamps.”

  Damn you, Bryce Sexton, and your words.

  If I don’t watch it, I could fall for this man.

  He reaches his hand to mine that’s lying on my thigh. When his fingers lightly rub against the back of mine, shivers run down my entire body.

  “Tessa?”

  “Yes?” I breathe.

  “What would have happened if Christine hadn’t shown up that night?”

  Our noses are practically touching, and our mouths are dangerously close.

  “I would have let you kiss me.”

  “Can I kiss you now?”

  My breath stops. “Is that a dare?”

  His pupils dilate, the black of his eyes are as serious as sin. “No. It’s a request.”

  I glance down at his mouth, those lush lips and jaw full of stubble. What I could do to that mouth with my eagerly hungry one. It would be so easy to take him, ravage this man on a fire escape in the heart of San Francisco under the veil of fog and the pitch of night.

  But I won’t.

  Because, as much as I want to kiss him … I know my heart just can’t take it.

  “No,” I breathe.

  He nods the tiniest bit, as if he expected me to say that.

  “What are you thinking right now?” I ask.

  He smiles, his face still just inches from mine. “How beautiful you look.”

  I roll my eyes. What a line. My skin is splotchy, and although dewy, it’s bare of any makeup. “You know I literally make women look beautiful by putting makeup on their faces.”

  He raises his hand to the side of my head and slides his fingers through my hair. “Lesser women,” he says. “I like you like this. You’re not hiding behind anything. It’s just … Tessa.”

  His thumb runs small circles along my cheek. I fall into his embrace and close my eyes. I know, when I open them, I’m going to lose all resolve. It’s his words. His touch. His woodsy scent. And it’s the way I feel like, no matter how much I know I should tell him to stay away, I—

  “Mommy,” Charlie’s small voice calls out from his room.

  I jump up and nearly fall over Bryce’s legs as I climb through the window and head toward my baby’s bedroom, knocking over a picture frame.

  “My stomach hurts.”

  I lay my hand over his tummy and rub small circles over it. I knew he would get sick from eating so much this late. I should have stopped him, but of course, I was too enthralled with our unexpected visitor that I dropped the ball on being a good mom.

  There’s that self-doubt again.

  “Here, scoot over, and I’ll cuddle with you,” I say, opening his covers wider.

  I lie with Charlie until I’m positive he’s sound asleep again. When I walk back into the living room, the window is shut, the picture frame has been put back in place, and Bryce is nowhere to be found.

  My cell phone is on the table near the door. I pick it up to see a text message.

  Your son needed you, so I let myself out. Thank you for a wonderful evening. Tell the Lego King of San Francisco it was an honor to meet him. You’re doing an amazing job, raising him on your own. You should be proud.

  Bryce Sexton, you’d better be worth it.

  11

  BRYCE

  “You have a phone meeting with the editor in Chicago at eleven, the mayor of Oakland at eleven twenty, and the Los Angeles publisher at eleven thirty. Then, Brantley will be out front at eleven forty-five to take you to lunch at One Market where you’re treating buyers for your major markets to a fancy lunch, but you have to be out of there by twelve forty-five to make it to—”

  “Can you get me the contact for the Boy Scouts of San Francisco?” I ask, making Jalynn look up from her iPad, confused.

  “Um, excuse me?”

  “Can five-year-olds join the Boy Scouts?”

  “Is this for a story?”

  “It’s for a girl.” Realization hits me that I just said that out loud, and heat boils up my face.

  A slight smile forms on her lips as she sits back in her seat. “Same girl?”

  I sit up straighter. “Excuse me?”

  “I take it, you’re thinking about the same girl I helped you find.”

  “Please, just get me the info.” I turn to my computer, opening up my calendar to avoid the conversation. “I see it’s lunch at twelve and then—”

  “Have you seen her after the makeup incident?”

  I sigh, embarrassed to be discussing this with my assistant before giving in. “Yes. Twice.”

  “Where?”

  “Coffee,” I state, my eyes fixed on my computer. “And her apartment.”

  “Her apartment?”

  “I stopped by with Chinese food.”

  Jalynn scowls at me. “You just showed up at her house with Chinese food?”

  I move my eyes toward her and give a slow nod of my head.

  She laughs incredulously. “You and your brother, I swear. You think every girl will fall at your feet just because you’re a Sexton.”

  “Don’t compare me with my brother.”

  “You seriously think you can show up whenever you want, and the girl who’s been thinking about you all week is just sitting at her desk waiting for you?”

  I raise my hand, not wanting to know what that meant because it obviously wasn’t about me. “Just please, email the info when you get it, and let’s move on.”

  She leans forward. “So, what’s up with the Scouts? Wait. Does she have a kid?”

  “How did you get that from me asking about a Boy Scout Troop?”

  She gives me a devilish grin while pointing to her head. “I can put two and two together. Makes sense why she was blowing you off. She’s a single mom, and you’re … well, you.”

  I cast her a sideways glance. “I’ll pretend that’s a compliment.”

  “She has a son,” she says out loud.

  I repeat what she just said, “She has a son.”

  Her mouth drops. Her hazel eyes are narrow as she looks at me, knowing this new piece of information. “And you’re cool with that?”

  Now, it’s my turn to scowl. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She flinches. “No reason. I just didn’t take you as a kid lover.” She must see the look on my face because she quickly lifts the iPad and starts swiping. “Okay, so Boy Scouts. What do you need to know?”

  Leaning back in my chair, I look up at the ceiling. “How old do you need to be?”

  She does a quick type and then answers, “Eleven.”

  “Shit,” I bite.

  “Wait.” She holds up a finger. “The Cub Scouts are for grades K through five. There’s the Lion Den for four- and five-year-olds that started recently and”—she does some scrolling—“there is one here, in San Francisco.”

  “Call. Tell them I’m coming to a meeting.”

  Jalynn looks up from her screen. She bites her lip and asks, “Do you know anything about the Boy Scouts?”

  “I told her I’d take her kid.” At the mere thought of Charlie, I smile. Damn, that kid was funny. “He had this survival bracelet he was proud to show off, and when he said he was going to be a Scout, his entire face lit up. It was … I’ve never seen a kid be so excited to join something.”

  “So, you told him …”

  “That we sponsor the local chapter. We still do, right?”

  Her shoulders rise to her cheeks. “Hell if I know. I just started working her
e.”

  “I’m sending them a hefty check tomorrow morning. Make sure I’m part of the next Lion Den meeting. Tell them I’m bringing a friend.”

  “Okay,” she says slowly, taking notes on my requests.

  I can see it in her stance; she’s questioning my judgment. Hell, so am I.

  “Sir, may I ask you a question?”

  Her expression makes me want to roll my eyes. I already feel ridiculous with how much I’ve involved her in my romantic life.

  “Why are you going through all this trouble? I’m sure there are other women who would be less of a hassle to get.”

  With a heavy breath, I open my hands, palms up, and answer honestly, “When Tessa and I are together, we have this easy way of being with each other. The conversation is light, and the effort is seamless. She is beautiful and driven and brave. She gives me hell, and I have to crawl up from the gutter for an audience with her. Just when I think she’s pushing me away, she looks at me with these eyes that are begging me not to go. That’s what keeps me going back.”

  “You’re falling in love with her!” Jalynn jumps slightly in her seat, placing her hands on the table.

  My face burns red. This is not a conversation I should be having with her. I hold up my hands. “Stop. This is not appropriate. Please, just make sure everything is set up for me, and I’ll follow along with what I see on my calendar.”

  Jalynn pops back into assistant mode, standing up, straightening her skirt, and grabbing her things, making me feel like even more of a jackass than before.

  I drop my head, closing my eyes and whispering, “I’m sorry.”

  Jalynn pauses at the front of my desk. When I look up, she says, “Go after her. It’s crazy; I won’t lie. It’s just … what you just said, it … well, when you talk about her, you look almost nostalgic. Like she’s giving you something you’ve been longing for. You’re a romantic, Mr. Sexton. It’s a nice surprise. It is possible to break down even the strongest walls. I promise you.”

  Well, that was not what I’d thought I’d ever hear from an assistant, but it’s the nicest thing I’ve heard in a long time. The girl really does have maturity well beyond her years.