by Lulu Pratt
“Hmm,” she hums lowly before hugging the pillow to her chest. “Maybe they’re distant cousins or something.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I follow up, grabbing her remote to find something for us to watch.
I’ve already tired of this conversation and I want to forget my irresponsible behavior earlier. What better way to do that than with some trashy reality TV?
Charli gives me a pointed stare before sharing a word of warning.
“Well, with so much money involved, things are bound to get messy at some point. Are you sure you’re prepared for that?”
“Of course,” I say, nodding emphatically. Nothing is going to keep me from achieving my dreams. Too much time has already been wasted on rejections and lack of resources. It’s all or nothing from here on out.
I tell her as much.
Still watching me carefully, she only nods and turns to look at the TV.
“Just be careful.”
Fourteen
ANDREW
My hands are busy shaping the facial features of a new sculpture when the music streaming into my ears is replaced with the notes of my obnoxious ringtone.
I’m not answering that shit. Everyone who knows me knows that I don’t like being bothered. Especially when I’m trying to create. I don’t have time for the outside world right now.
Hidden away in my basement, I have no desire to interact with humans at the moment. Unless that human is Lilah Tucker.
I haven’t heard from her since she hightailed it out of here two nights ago.
I continue molding the sculpture in front of me and the music eventually stops playing again.
Agitated, I glance at the phone face up on the work table beside me. Foolishly, I hope to see Lilah’s name but the California area code catches my eye instead.
The contact isn’t saved but I know exactly who it is right away.
What the hell does he want?
Dropping the sculpting knife, I listen to it clank against the metal surface of the table as I contemplate whether or not to answer.
Fuck it.
“Hello?” I answer, smearing clay all over the screen as I drag my finger across it.
“Andrew,” comes my brother’s clipped greeting.
My free hand forms into a fist involuntarily just from the sound of his monotonous drawl.
“What do you want?” I ask, breaking the lengthy silence. I know he didn’t call me just to breathe on my line.
It doesn’t take him long to find his footing though.
“Just called to check in and see if anything’s changed since we last spoke.”
Always so damn formal. My lips quirk at the seriousness in his tone. Everything is a damn business transaction with this kid.
He wants me to join him in the family and I won’t budge.
“Still not interested in selling my soul to the devil, Teddy.”
I know he hates his childhood nickname.
I grin triumphantly when he huffs heavily over the line. Mission fucking accomplished.
“You’re such a fucking waste, Andrew. You never cared about the family legacy and you don’t respect where you came from. Dad was right when he left me to make all the major decisions. You don’t deserve a penny of your inheritance,” he spits out.
But it doesn’t faze me. In truth, our father hadn’t left it all to him. But it went to him by default when I refused to have any parts of continuing the Knight legacy. It’d never been important to me.
“You flatter me, big brother,” I taunt back, and I can almost see the steam coming from his ears through the phone.
His silence lets me know that he’s pissed and that’s what he fucking gets.
“I’ll let you enjoy your soulless work of accumulating money while I enjoy my life. Some of us have more important things to do like creating art and fucking beautiful women. You do know what a woman is, don’t you?” I ask offhandedly as I pick up my sculpting knife to continue.
“Shithead, one day you’re going to regret every snide remark you’ve made.”
Doubt it.
My brother is a fucking thorn in my side. Every time he calls, it’s for the sole purpose of “putting me in my place” and I’m fucking tired of it. I’ll never regret telling him exactly what’s on my mind.
You’d think he was a decade older than me with the way he carries himself. In actuality, I’m only fourteen months younger than his twenty-nine years.
I haven’t heard from him in over a year. For all I know he’s living it up in California after transferring our father’s company to the west coast to get in on the tech boom.
He really doesn’t occupy too many of my thoughts. We’re as different as night and day. And when it comes down to sibling bonds, ours is nonexistent. Not that I can blame him much.
Our father Andrew Knight III played a pretty big role in that. We were constantly pitted against each other and by the time we were grown and on our own, neither of us bothered to take the time to mend what would have been our relationship.
I can honestly count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen my brother in person since our mother’s funeral four years ago. My father had passed two years prior due to kidney failure and my brother disappeared like a ghost until a member of staff hunted him down to tell him of our mother’s pending funeral arrangements.
“Go to hell,” he grits out between his teeth. I can see him unbuttoning the jacket of his suit as he paces back and forth in his office hurling insults at me.
The mere visual is pretty damn comical if I do say so myself.
“I’ll see you there,” I promise darkly, then I hang up.
My concentration shot, I throw my tools back on the table and stare at the piece in front of me.
Lilah Tucker.
Why can’t I stop thinking about her? No matter how hard I try, she’s right there in the peripheral of every thought I have.
I must have taken about ten cold showers in the last two days alone. Every time I recall her, my dick aches in protest.
The sexual frustration is to be expected. She’s a walking wet dream if I’ve seen one.
But why do I miss her feistiness and that sharp tongue as she tries to deflect attention away from the intensity of our chemistry. Why do I miss the fire raging in her beautiful eyes?
My fist balls up again on its own accord, a clear indication that I need to get a grip.
How the fuck do I miss someone I barely know? What kind of spell did she put on me?
The tension radiating from me is so strong that I push away from my workstation. If I try to continue sculpting, I might just ruin it.
Tired of these frustrating thoughts, I snatch up my phone with one goal in mind.
Spurred on by my recent conversation, I find Lilah’s number intent on making my first sizable investment.
Even if I were to never touch my trust fund, I know that my inheritance will take care of me until the grave. However, I suddenly feel like I have something to prove and Lilah’s going to help me.
And I’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Because if I don’t see her soon, I’m going to combust.
Fifteen
LILAH
I’m not sure what possessed me to go grocery shopping in the middle of the night, but here I am in aisle six comparing generic cereal brands.
By the time I grabbed a squeaky shopping cart, it was midnight on the dot and I’ve been busy ever since. My tight budget makes it necessary that I pinch every penny possible and I don’t take the task lightly.
Because of the late hour, my contacts have long left my eyes, so I push the clunky glasses further up the bridge of my nose to continue my price comparison.
When my phone vibrates in my back pocket, I tear my eyes away from my current task and retrieve the device. Who would be calling me at this hour? My mom? Charli? Edward?
Nothing prepares me to see Andrew’s name on the screen.
I haven’t heard from him once since I pulled my little d
isappearing act and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to reach out.
When can I see you, Ms. Tucker?
I may not have reached out to him in reality, but he was all I could think of, night and day. I had even found myself washing my hands under scalding water this afternoon lost in my thoughts as I recalled our last encounter.
I’m free all day tomorrow. What time works best for you?
I take a deep breath and wait for his response. Hopefully, he says later in the day. I need time to prepare for our next encounter, because the last one nearly knocked my world off its axis.
What about tonight? I want to pick your brain before I move forward with anything…
Shit.
Sorry. I can’t right now. I’m in the middle of something.
His response comes through quicker than lightning.
What the fuck are you saying, Lilah? Where are you?
He’s nowhere near me but I can feel the heat of his jealousy through the phone.
Cool your jets, caveman. I’m not in danger. I’m fine. Honest.
I hesitate to respond, but I know that I have step lightly.
I’m food shopping.
When no follow-up text comes through, I shrug and get back to the task at hand.
I breeze through the aisles humming softly to myself. I make it to the cookie aisle uninterrupted when a kind male voice breaks my train of thought from behind me.
Great.
“How are you?” He asks politely, and I continue to stare intently at the package in my hand. The less I say the better. Maybe this overly friendly mystery man will back off.
I grunt and bend down my head even further. Perhaps shopping at midnight is not the best idea I had recently.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but you looked fa—”
That’s when I recognize the voice. Deep yet nasally. I teased him about it all the time when we were together.
“Mason!”
Unintentionally, I pounce on him hugging him tight as comfort fills my heart at seeing someone familiar from my past.
“Hey, Lily Cat,” he greets laughingly when I pull away.
His old nickname for me brings back a flood of memories, good memories. I haven’t seen this man since our college graduation. I had no idea I even missed him until this very moment.
Mason was always a good guy. At least where I was concerned. We broke up in college because we realized we were better off friends than anything else. There was absolutely zero spark between us.
“Wow, you look great,” he tells me sincerely. “I’m guessing life is treating you well.”
If only you knew.
I smile dutifully and thank him for the compliment.
“What have you been up to, Lily Cat? You forgot all about me once you moved away to chase your dreams,” he remarks, moving his basket from one hand to another.
Rolling my eyes playfully, I lean against the handle of my cart. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around? My number is still the same, big shot. You’re the one who left to become some Wall Street exec.”
Mason laughs bashfully and it’s an endearing sound.
“So what are you doing in Greenwich anyway? Do you live around here now?”
“Not quite. I’m here for the summer. My girlfriend’s family is from here, so we’re staying at their estate for a little bit,” he shares casually.
But the smile on his face is telling.
Mason’s in love.
Who the hell would have guessed it? He’d only had eyes for books and video games the last time I saw him. And now he’s a man in love. How stinking cute…
My heart sings at the revelation and I start to tell him as much until a strong hand grips my elbow and catches me off guard.
Before I can yelp in surprise, Andrew’s deep timbre is filling the air.
“Hey Cupcake,” he says, dropping a wet kiss behind my ear. His grip on my elbow loosens as he traces his tongue over my earlobe.
To any other person, it would look like we’re two lovers greeting each other. But I know for a fact that this is just his way of marking his territory.
He’s deduced that Mason is a threat and even though that’s not the case at all, he’s still on full alert.
A shiver runs down my spine and it has nothing to do with the chilly temperature inside the market.
“Andrew, hi,” I greet in an attempt to sound cool and collected. But I sound out of breath and dazed even to my own ears.
He finally steps around me and looks down at me. I almost drown in the midnight blue pools focused intently on me.
Mason clears his throat across the aisle and I suddenly remember he’s there. So I clear my throat too and try to talk.
“Andrew, this is Mason. Mason, this is Andrew.” My words are wobbly as Andrew’s hand moves from my elbow to the small of my back. I’m wearing a crop top and have never been more thrilled about an outfit choice as his hand touches my bare flesh.
His hot fingers dance across my cool skin creating a delightful sensation.
Mason is the first to extend his hand and Andrew looks at it for a full moment before reaching out to shake it.
True to his nature, Mason engages him in friendly conversation while I get lost in drawing comparisons between the two.
Where Mason is lanky and thin, Andrew is solid muscle. Mason’s pale skin dims in comparison to Andrew’s bronzed tone and the array of artwork covering it. Mason’s unruly hair is light blond and falling around his ears, while Andrew’s copper hair is short and perfectly groomed. Mason is open and friendly, but Andrew is closed off and brooding.
They couldn’t be more different—
“Right, Cupcake?” Andrew says bringing me back to the present. I’m not even going to pretend that I know what they’re talking about so I just smile and nod.
Mason watches the way Andrew’s thick arm falls around my shoulder and gives a heavy sigh, rocking back on his heels.
“Well, it was great to see you, Lily Cat. Hopefully it won’t be six years before we see each other again.”
I chuckle lightly and promise to keep in touch. I can see Andrew’s jaw tighten from the corner of my eye.
“Nice to meet you, man. Take care of this one, she’s a handful,” Mason says jokingly before walking off to continue his shopping.
Before Mason’s even out of earshot, Andrew is grilling me.
“Why the fuck are you out shopping so late?” He growls and the disgruntled sound goes straight to my panties. “Do you have any idea what kind of psychos are out this time of night?”
I simultaneously want to purr and bristle at his tone.
“Err, you? Me? Mason? I can take care of myself just fine,” I bite back. “How the hell did you find me so fast anyway?”
His lips lift into a smile at my demanding tone.
What the hell is so funny?
“Answer me!” I’m two seconds shy of stomping my feet like a spoiled child. His little popups are beginning to rattle me. It’s like he has eyes all over this city.
“This isn’t a very big town. There’s only one store open this late in a twenty-mile radius.”
“And that little show back there,” I say referencing his tense interaction with Mason. “What was that?”
“You’re mine, Lilah. And I want everyone who sees you to know it,” he says emphatically, his stare certain and steady.
“I’m yours?” I repeat back to him questioningly.
His eyes darken dangerously as he fixes me with his burning gaze. When he speaks, that deep rumbling voice holds nothing but delicious promise.
“Mine.”
Sixteen
ANDREW
“Tell me where we’re going,” Lilah demands from the passenger seat, turning her body to face mine as I navigate my car south down a pretty deserted Interstate 95.
“You said you trusted me, Cupcake.”
As soon as we got to her place, I’d dropped her bags on the kitchen counter and told he
r that we were going out. She’d already revealed that she wasn’t tired and I knew the perfect outlet for some of that restless energy.
“I do trust you, but I still want to know,” she says, skillfully cloaking her words in a sullen tone before crossing her arms across her chest.
Covering my mouth with my free hand, I cover a smile. She’s fucking adorable.
“We’ll be there shortly. Just sit tight,” I instruct, changing lanes.
This trip would typically take a little over an hour during the day, but with the help of my Porsche Turbo and the empty roads, we’ll be getting there well ahead of schedule.
She lets out an exasperated huff and faces forward again.
“This is a pretty sweet car,” she mumbles from the passenger seat. She’s spoken so lowly that it seems as if she’s talking to herself.
“Thanks,” I say smoothly, gripping the wheel.
“I think you’ve been in a different car every time I’ve seen you,” she points out. “Are cars a passion of yours?”
I’ve never really thought about it like that. I’ve always just been a lover of beautiful cars. It’s one of the few things my father and I had in common.
He bought me my first Porsche Carrera for my sixteenth birthday and the rest was history.
“Not sure I would call it a passion, more like a hobby. I guess you could say I’m a collector of sorts,” I tell her. For a second I remember my bucket list, which I haven’t really thought of since the day I first saw Lilah’s beautiful face on that leaflet.
“I see,” she says, and I get the sense that there’s a lot left unsaid.
What’s she thinking?
It still blows my fucking mind that a woman has been able to keep my attention for so long. I’ve never worked this hard to get someone in my bed. And to be honest, I’ve caught myself forgetting that’s the ultimate goal.
When it comes to her, things flow effortlessly and that scares the shit out of me. It’s like I actually want her to fall for me, for reasons that have nothing to do with sex, and that’s a terrifying pill to swallow.
I don’t know what it is about her, but Lilah has effortlessly done the impossible from the moment we were introduced. She holds my attention without even trying.
Women chase me, not the other way around. Yet, Lilah let it be known early on that she didn’t plan on joining the “legions of women in my fan club.”