Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

  I think Bray did as well.

  Silently, I cursed the differences in our lives because I knew for sure that Bray Hamilton and I had much more in common than not, and at the top of that list was our deep attraction to one another.

  Bray took my hand in his and then wrapped his other arm around my waist to help steady me as we made our way down from the boulder. I felt his body against mine for the briefest of moments, and I craved more. I needed to feel him again. It wasn’t a want. It was a need. I needed more moments.

  “How tall are you?” I asked once my feet were back on the ground and I found myself looking up at him.

  “I’m about five eleven.” He linked our hands back together and turned toward the trail that would lead us back to the campfire.

  We walked along the path in silence for a few minutes before Bray began to speak again. “I really love that shirt, Misty.”

  I could feel the heat rising from my bare shoulders to my cheeks, glad the night air was cool enough to chill them down and provide camouflage in the darkness. I certainly wasn’t going to admit that I wore this shirt, probably the only sexy thing in my entire wardrobe, in hopes that he would notice me. Mission accomplished. I was playing with fire. And it was exciting. And scary.

  “Thank you,” I responded to his compliment. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Like it? Miss-Mis, it’s driving me crazy.”

  “My shoulders are driving you crazy?” I laughed.

  Suddenly, he stopped and tugged my hand until we were off the path and I was pressed against him. I held my breath as I let my body feel his muscular frame.

  This is it. He’s going to kiss me.

  But Bray Hamilton took me by surprise when his lips ended up on my bare right shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine.

  “I’ve been dying to do that all night,” he admitted.

  I’ve been dying for you to kiss me all night.

  I wanted to tell him that, but it was too forward.

  His head dipped down again, and this time, his lips landed in the crook of my neck. “I’ve been dying to do that, too.”

  My breath caught in the base of my throat because what he had just done to me was more exciting than anything I’d read in a book or seen in a movie.

  How did he know to do these things?

  “We’d better get back before they send a search party for us.” I didn’t know why that came out of my mouth. Fear that maybe I might do more with Bray than I’d ever done before? Inexperience? A kiss to my shoulder and one to my neck caused much more than butterflies. I was feeling a raw heat, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

  “As you wish, Miss-Mis.” When we started walking again, he grabbed my hand, and I let him, but a few steps before we hit the clearing, I pulled free of his hold.

  That action had the muscle in his jaw twitching, in anger or disappointment, I didn’t know. He had read my gesture as I didn’t want people to know I was with him, when in fact it was only partially that. I didn’t care about everyone, only my bunkmates. I was attempting to minimize being ostracized more than I already was, because girls can be mean and competitive. Especially when the boy they like, likes you.

  My heart hurt knowing I had made Bray feel he was anything less than the most intriguing and incredible guy I’d ever met. But I had. And those words “less than” were chiseling the edges of my heart. The reality was that he was more than . . . more than any guy I had ever met. And the evening ended without me telling him that or letting him know how I felt.

  “Isn’t Bray the best kisser.” We were all sitting on our beds and Becca looked directly at me when she said it. It wasn’t a question. It was to let me know I wasn’t special and that she’d kissed him.

  Only, she didn’t know that I hadn’t actually done anything with him.

  “Of course he’s the best kisser, after all, I was the one who taught him how to do it.” Charlotte brushed her long mane, making eye contact with me in the mirror.

  “That’s not all you taught him,” Ashley chimed in, letting me know it was one against three and that she and Becca were all too willing to do Charlotte’s bidding.

  Turning from the mirror, Charlotte tipped her head to the side and smirked, “Understatement.”

  This tall cool glass of Evian from Connecticut was expecting me to fight back like a Northerner, and that was not going to happen.

  Bray had chosen me tonight, and Charlotte was going to have a summer filled with watching him pursue me hard, not the other way around. The meaner she got, or the more people she got to gang up against me, the more she would hurt herself, and I wouldn’t have to do a damn thing.

  Clearly, she didn’t understand that.

  Whatever was going to happen between me and Bray was going to happen. We were captivated by one another. And as they babbled on about summer’s past with him, I sat cross-legged on my bed brushing my hair, effectively tuning them out as I replaced their noise with a soundtrack of my own, filling my head. My mind’s eye was wrapped up in a tale, a summer love, playing out on the sports fields and the trails, around campfires in the night, a North-South West Side Story.

  Drifting off to sleep that night, I envisioned the sky from earlier in the night and hoped that Bray’s and my stars weren’t crossed.

  More to come . . .

  Want to be the first to know when the rest of Bray and Misty’s story is coming out . . .

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  To preorder The Color of Love: http://bit.ly/2Ko9oJw

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  To add to your TBR -

  Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2G5R1qb

  About the Author

  A native New Yorker living deep in the heart of Texas, Julie is obsessed with reality TV, the existence of past lives, and Bruce Springsteen. And she misses the ocean. Big time.

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  Also by Julie A. Richman

  Searching for Moore

  Moore to Lose

  Moore than Forever

  Needing Moore Series

  Bad Son Rising

  Henry's End

  Slave to Love

  The Do-Over

  Love on the Edge of Time

  Moore than a Feeling

  The Color of Love

  Aligned

  A short retelling of the beginning of the INFIDELITY series

  Aleatha Romig

  A fun, alternative look at the beginning of the bestselling Infidelity series—not about cheating.

  * * *

  Get firsthand insight into Lennox “Nox” Demetri’s inner thoughts as he and Alexandria “Charli” Collins begin the “...sexy suspense saga that will leave you hot, bothered, and begging for more.” ~ Redbook magazine

  * * *

  And for lovers of the Infidelity series, don’t miss the bonus chapter guaranteed to make you remember all the reasons you fell in love with this cocky hero.

  ALIGNED

  A short retelling of the beginning of the INFIDELITY series

  Series Copyright © 2017 Romig Works, LLC

  Published by Romig Works, LLC

  * * *

  2017 Edition

  * * *

  Editing: Lisa Aurello

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without the written permission from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  2018 Edition License

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  This novella is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This novella may not be resold or given away
to other people. If you would like to share this novella with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this novella and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  One

  Lennox

  “Another drink, Mr. Demetri?” the bartender asked as he cleaned a small glass tumbler, wiping the rim with a white cloth.

  Standing with my elbow on the makeshift bar, I contemplated his offer. The dinner was over, and as I surveyed the large ballroom, my gaze came to rest on the round table near the front of the room with two empty chairs.

  One was mine.

  My chair.

  My seat.

  Where my ass was supposed to be.

  The woman seated next to my empty chair smiled politely, talking to our table companions as her eyes flickered about the room, no doubt trying to locate her date for the evening.

  That was the problem.

  I didn’t want to be here with her or consider her a date, escort, companion, or any other appropriate descriptor.

  To me, she was no more than a person to occupy the seat next to mine, an accessory for my evening, as significant as a pocket square or diamond cuff links. She was a woman from my company, someone who worked in public relations. I barely knew her, and for some reason, that made this entire scenario more unsettling.

  Then again, I had no desire to get to know her. It wasn’t her work or drive that made her undesirable. She was a valuable employee, and I appreciated anyone who had a strong work ethic. It wasn’t her personality or appearance. She was pleasant enough to be around and not bad on the eyes. Even though blondes had never been my thing, I knew a beautiful woman when I saw one. Perhaps, it’s the Italian in me, but brunettes were the ones who caught my eye.

  The reason I wasn’t interested was that I wasn’t in that place—that place in my head or heart to allow anyone to get close. Not again. Maybe never. Those stars had once aligned. Physics told me that it wouldn’t happen again.

  That was the problem. I suppose I was concerned that the woman in the seat next to where I should be seated wanted more. I could capitalize on that, take her to her home, stay and get my needs met, not giving a fuck about hers.

  It’s not that I’d never done that. It’s that she worked with me. For me. I’d see her again. Using her and walking away would make me no better than my father. I wasn’t a good man, but I sure as hell was better than him. Granted, the bar wasn’t set that high, but I needed to start somewhere.

  Mindlessly I rotated the gold band on the fourth finger of my left hand. Truth be told, I was a confident businessman who possessed very few—if any—nervous habits. Rotating my wedding ring wasn’t so much as a nervous habit as it was a routine, a comfort, a reminder of a time when life was better, a time when stars aligned, a time when I had fucks to give—in all meanings of the word.

  “Lennox,” Deloris Witt said as she came to a stop, standing beside me.

  Before acknowledging the woman whom I employed, I nodded to the bartender. “Make it a double.”

  “You need to be in your seat for the presentation. After all, this room is filled because of your donation, the donation made by Demetri Enterprises. They need to see a face with the name.”

  “Silvia should be the face.” I was less angry about Silvia’s inability to attend this benefit than I was bothered. When it came to Silvia Demetri, our relationship had its ebbs and flows. Right now, I was here because she asked me to do this and I agreed.

  It might be worthwhile to note that I’m not always an asshole.

  I looked to Mrs. Witt. “I know, Deloris, you could be that face.” The deep green of her dress caught my attention as I scanned her up and down. It wasn’t often that I gave Deloris Witt’s gender much consideration. It didn’t matter to me whether she was a man or a woman. What mattered was that she got the job done—handled my affairs with the utmost diplomacy and discretion.

  Her lips pursed. “I work for Demetri. I’m not Demetri. That’s you.”

  I shook my head as I looked down and noticed the way her dress reached all the way to the tops of her shoes. “You look very nice. Are those high heels?” I felt the way my cheek quirked with amusement. “I didn’t even know you owned high heels.”

  “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

  “Well, that seems unfair. After all, you know all about me.”

  “I do. I know you should be going to your seat, and you should probably leave the rest of the drink here.”

  There weren’t many people in the world who spoke to me the way Deloris did. As I gave that more thought, I narrowed the field. No one spoke to me the way that Deloris did. She was old enough to be my mother—if she gave birth at fourteen. And yes, that could be possible, but it wasn’t.

  Deloris wasn’t my mother. She was the closest thing I had to a conscience. And given her line of work, past and present, it meant that my conscience was less like Jiminy Cricket and more like Penelope on that crime show.

  “I don’t appreciate that you suggested...insisted,” I corrected, “that I bring Millie.”

  Deloris’s voice lowered. “We needed someone at your side. It’s not like she’s an Infidelity employee.”

  My jaw clenched at the mention of that company. I despised everything about it.

  “She’s a colleague,” Deloris went on. “That’s all. She’s simply here so you’re not sitting alone, you’re not being photographed alone, and you’re not alone. She knows that this is merely for publicity. That’s what she does. Besides, it’s about time to get your face out more and squash the rumors of the brooding, workaholic hermit.”

  I laughed as I swirled the remaining whiskey. The aromatic scent of oak with a hint of mint filled my senses, reminding me how good it tasted. “Why? Brooding, workaholic hermit sounds like an accurate description.”

  Glancing at the custom tuxedo I was wearing, I looked up to Deloris and winked. “Oh, and don’t forget devilishly handsome, especially tonight in this monkey suit.”

  For the first time since she came to find me, she grinned. “Yes, Mr. Demetri, you’re handsome. But you know what? It’s okay to enjoy life a little too.”

  “I do. I enjoy working. I enjoy building Demetri Enterprises.”

  “What about your philanthropic work?”

  My head wobbled indecisively upon my shoulders. “It’s more Silvia’s thing. She cares and all that shit. Give back. Pay it forward. Make the world a better place. My ship sailed on that one, but I get it.”

  “And she couldn’t be here, so you are.” The ceiling lights dimmed as the area around the podium grew brighter. “That’s your cue,” Deloris said.

  “I hate this.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said as she reached for my not-yet-empty glass, taking it from my grasp and placing it on the bar. “Go.”

  “Mrs. Witt, we need to discuss the boundaries of your job. I believe you’re bordering on insubordination.”

  She smiled. “Yes, tomorrow we’ll have that discussion.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “If you’re still employed.”

  Instead of answering, she waved her hand—an upside-down queen’s wave—shooing me toward the table we both shared.

  Straightening my shoulders and adjusting my tie with Deloris a step behind me, we walked into the sea of tables, dodging chairs as murmurs grew quieter and a woman in a long black gown approached the microphone. Without thinking, I reached for my left hand. The smooth band spun as I gave it a twist.

  If only.

  Millie’s gaze met mine as I reached our table and tugged my chair. Once I was seated, she leaned closer. “I was afraid you left.”

  My body involuntarily stiffened and jaw clenched as sweet perfume replaced the scent of whiskey. The way her hair grazed my cheek caused the small hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention. I noti
ced Mrs. Witt’s stare as she sat at the other side of the table. Forcing myself to remain seated, I feigned a smile. “And miss this presentation? I wouldn’t think of it.”

  Millie reached for my hand, my left hand. As her fingers grazed my skin, she looked down at the golden band. “Lennox, I know...I’m—”

  Pulling my hand away, I shook my head and turned my gaze to the front of the room. The woman in the long black dress had begun to speak.

  “...tonight. As you all know, were it not for the generosity of Demetri Enterprises...”

  Two

  Lennox

  The shrill noise shattered my restless sleep, the ringing of my phone propelling me from slumber to reality. My heart thundered with that first microsecond of uncertainty. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, the red numbers of my clock came into view: 4:56.

  What the fuck?

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself up to sitting and wiped my hand over my face as my pulse steadied. A day’s worth of beard overgrowth abraded my palm before I raked back my hair and reached for the phone. I had little to fear with an early-morning call. Barring disaster, Demetri Enterprises was solid. Sadly, but honestly, there wasn’t anything or anyone else who warranted my concern.

  That being the case, the incessant ringing wouldn’t disturb anyone else. I was the only one in my bed, my bedroom, and my apartment.