by J. A. Little
“It was. I fixed it.” Bill nods. I look between them.
“Did you happen to encounter my wife on your way in?” Aiden asks. “She’s on the warpath. We’re staying out of her way. I like my testicles right where they are.”
Bill grunts out a laugh.
“She just left to get the rug rats. You’re safe.”
“Thank God,” Aiden laughs.
“What happened? She said something about Simon, Logan, and Brayden fighting?”
“I don’t know. I think Simon said something about their girls and then Brayden said something about Logan’s girlfriend and I… Jesus Christ, it’s fucking ridiculous. Neither one would go to school, so I grounded them. They’ve been biting at each other all day.”
“Everything okay now?”
“Yeah, I sent them to their rooms after the second fistfight. I’m done with them today.”
I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Aiden, we got shit to do.”
“I know,” he grimaces.
“And I’ve got a toilet to unclog, I guess,” Bill adds, standing.
Aiden and I spend the next couple of hours working through paperwork—reports that have to be filed with our board as well as with the licensing agency.
“You know Mom got hotel rooms for the gala again, right?” He asks as we’re finishing up.
I groan. “Yes.”
“She got a separate one for Kayla.”
“Good.”
My brother raises his eyebrows. “Good? What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought you two were getting closer.”
“We are, but…”
“But what?”
“There are a lot of complications.”
“Have you told her?”
I nod. “Last weekend.”
“What’d she say?” he asks, curiously. I don’t answer. “She understood, didn’t she?”
“Are you finished with that?” I ask, reaching for the paper in front of him.
He sighs. “I hope you don’t end up pushing her away, Dean.”
Me, too.
* * *
Kayla appears at four thirty for Logan’s IL session. I don’t hang around for it. Logan’s still agitated, and I leave Kayla to deal with him. He listens to her more than me anyway.
Matty helps me make dinner. He’s in a good mood, and we spend half the time laughing.
“Hey, guys,” Kayla says, walking into the room as we’re finishing up.
“Hi,” Matty greets happily. She meets my eyes, and I wink.
“All done?” I ask, wiping my hands on a dishtowel.
She nods. “Yep. How are you, kid?” she asks, bumping Matty with her hip.
“I got an A on my math test,” he tells her proudly.
“Awesome! Good job. I knew you could do it.”
He grins and throws the last of the potato chunks into the pot on the stove.
“We’re done for now, Matty,” I tell him. “Go finish your homework and tell the guys it’ll be ready in about forty-five minutes, okay?”
“Okay. Bye, Kayla.”
“Bye, hon.”
When Matty is out of the room, Kayla steps a little closer.
“He met with Rebecca today, too,” I say. I guess it went well.”
“Good,” she sighs. “That makes me happy. It’s a step, right?”
“That it is. Any progress with Logan?”
She frowns. “No. He won’t talk and he’s refusing to see a therapist.”
“I know.”
“And the fight this morning?”
I shake my head, annoyed. “I think Simon was being a douche—riling them up because he could. I don’t know what he said. The boys aren’t talking, and Simon took off. He’ll be here on Friday, so I’ll ask him what the fuck happened.
“Speaking of,” Kayla injects. “I’m on call all day tomorrow and in court on Friday, but I’m leaving early. What time should I be ready for the gala?” The twinkle is back.
“I’ll be at your place at five thirty.”
She smiles, lowering her head and glancing up at me. “I’m sorta excited. I don’t get to dress up much.”
“Should be interesting. These things can get kinda crazy. I hope you still want to be my friend when it’s done.” Kayla shoves her thumbnail into her mouth. I reach to pull it away, but she lowers her hand before I have a chance. “Did Warren find a date?”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “Some model from Brazil. Don’t ask me where he met her. All I know is that she’ll be wearing a bright-red Versace number.”
“Fascinating.”
“I know, isn’t it?” she giggles. We’re drawn out of our discussion by a clearing throat. Brayden is standing in the doorway.
“Hello, Miss Kayla.” He smiles.
“Hi, Brayden.”
“You over your temper tantrum?” I ask seriously. He scowls at me.
“I’ll see you Friday,” Kayla says, sucking in air through her teeth. I hum and watch her go.
“Friday, huh? She’s your date? Nice.”
I glare at him. “Shut your face, Brayden.”
* * *
“I look like an idiot,” I grumble, tugging at my collar.
“You do not. You look nice. Now stop doing that, you’re messing up your tie.”
Emily is helping me with the finishing touches before I leave to get Kayla. She and my brother stopped by Wyatt House on their way to the hotel under the guise of picking something up. In reality, they’re here to make sure I’m not hiding in my office, refusing to leave. I wouldn’t do that, though. Kayla’s waiting for me, and I don’t want to disappoint her.
“All right. Let’s get out of here,” my sister-in-law says, smiling. “You have a date to pick up, and I have some fancy champagne with my name on it.”
I follow her out, locking my office behind me. Brayden, Curtis, and Edgar are hanging out on the stairs talking to Aiden. Logan’s still at work. I have no idea where Matty and Eric are. The whistles and catcalls that come at us make me roll my eyes.
“Daaaaamn, woman.”
“Watch it now, son,” Aiden warns, eyeballing Brayden with an amused smile as he whistles at Emily. Brayden sticks his tongue out between his teeth and waggles his eyebrows.
“If you ever decide to leave Aiden and go cougar on us, let me know.”
Emily gasps. “I am not old enough to be a cougar, you little brat!” she squeals, hitting him on the shoulder with her purse.
Brayden jumps away, laughing. “Lookin’ sharp, D. Can I take the car? I’ll pick up Logan and be home by midnight.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I agree automatically. It’s only after he’s halfway out the door that I realize he should have asked Simon, since he’s the one on duty for the weekend.
“Brayden!”
He halts and leans back inside. “Yeah?”
“If I get called back here because you guys think it’s okay to be breaking rules and giving Simon a hard time, you’ll be on restriction until you graduate.”
Brayden smirks. “Gotcha, captain. Be good, don’t be a bug up Simon’s ass.” His eyes shift behind me. “Have fun,” he says before shutting the door.
Aiden wraps Emily’s coat around her shoulders. “We’re gonna head out. See you there.”
“Yep,” I breathe.
There’s a loud whistle from behind me, making me cringe. “Wow,” Simon says, his mouth full of the sandwich in his hands. He swallows and wipes at his mouth. “This party must be serious.”
“Brayden just left. He’s picking up Logan from work, and they’ll be home at midnight,” I tell him, ignoring his comment.
“Isn’t that my call?” Simon scoffs.
Aiden clears his throat. He knows as well as I do that I just undermined Simon in front of the boys, which is a big mistake if I want him to work out. I look over at Edgar and Curtis, whose eyes are darting back and forth between Simon and me.
“Should have been, yes,” I admit. “He asked, I answered. It’s habit. Next tim
e I’ll make sure he knows to ask you.”
Simon just stares at me, probably trying to figure out if I’m up to something. Taking another bite of his sandwich, he nods. “Fanx,” he mumbles.
“I’ll be back on Sunday afternoon. Tracey should be in tomorrow sometime, but call if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
I try to grab my regular coat out of the closet, but my brother stops me, grabbing a long, black dress coat instead.
“Really?” I groan.
He nods and grins. “Really. You try to get away with it every year, Dean. I don’t feel like listening to Mom whine all night.”
“She’s not even going to see me before I drop it off at coat check.”
“She’ll know,” he insists. “She always knows. Besides, there’ll be pictures.”
I grab the coat roughly and put it on before following Aiden and Emily out the door.
When I pull into Kayla’s driveway twenty-five minutes later, there are only a few lights on. I take a deep breath and knock on the door. No answer. I knock again and wait. Still no answer. I’m beginning to wonder if she’s reconsidered and stood me up when she yanks it open.
“Sorry, sorry! I’m almost ready. Give me two seconds,” she says putting on an earring.
I look her up and down. She’s wearing a pretty modest-looking black gown. The neckline is high, giving me a very small glimpse of her collarbone. I’m not sure if it’s tantalizing or torturous. Her hair is partially pulled up away from her face and she’s wearing more makeup than I’ve ever seen her wear, especially around her eyes. Her lips are bright red, drawing my attention straight to them. On any given day she’s gorgeous, but tonight she looks unbelievably stunning. Even in my tux, I feel like I don’t deserve to have her on my arm. I’m going to have to keep a tight hold on her all night so the rich douchebag kids of my parents’ associates don’t attack her.
“You look amazing,” I blurt out.
Kayla smiles. “Thank you. I just need to get my shoes.”
“Okay,” I nod.
When she turns away, I have to brace myself against the wall.
“Holy shit!”
Chapter 32
Kayla
I turn my head to look at Dean. He appears completely stunned. His hand is braced against the wall, and his mouth is slightly open.
When I tried on the dress at Warren’s, he had a similar reaction to the plummeting back. And he knew it was there.
“You like?” I ask as Dean runs his hand over his mouth.
“I…wha…um…”
I grin. Nothing better than leaving your date speechless. Running back into the kitchen, I grab my favorite pair of red Jimmy Choos, a gift to myself for my twenty-fifth birthday. When I return to Dean, he’s holding my coat. I know he’s going to look at my feet, so I stand in front of him tapping my toes. As expected, his gaze wanders downward. His eyes go wide—but his reaction is not what I expect.
“You can’t wear those shoes,” he chokes.
I look down at my feet and then back up at him. “Why not?”
“You just can’t.”
“I like my shoes.”
“I do, too.”
I look at him in utter bewilderment. “Then why can’t I wear them?”
Dean’s hand goes straight to his hair, running his fingers through it and tugging. He’s almost vibrating, his eyes darting between my face and my feet. Maybe I should rethink this evening.
“Are you drunk?”
“No! I just…” He glances back down, a conflicted look on his face.
I shake my head. “Oh my God. You’re giving me a complex. Can we just go?”
Dean helps me into my coat. “Do you have, uh… You know my mom got you a room, right?”
I nod. “Emily told me.”
“She does it every time, just in case. I mean, so we can drink and not have to…but I can bring you back home…if you want.”
“It’s fine, Dean,” I assure, picking up my overnight bag and trying to figure out why the hell he’s so nervous. The dress was meant to turn him on, not turn him crazy. He takes it from me, glancing down at my feet one last time before heading out the door.
He doesn’t say anything else about my shoes on the way, but he doesn’t look at me either. I see his eyes shift when I cross my legs, allowing the length of my leg to show through the dress’s slit, but otherwise his eyes are glued to the road.
We pull up in front of the swanky hotel. There are so many people. It makes me nervous. A valet opens my door and helps me out. He holds onto my hand a little longer than appropriate, but lets go the instant Dean is at my side. There are photographers taking pictures. I have no idea if they’re press or part of the PR for Wyatt House, but when they spot Dean, flashes go off from every direction.
“Shit,” he grumbles, letting his hand slip from my elbow down to my hand. He greets people hastily as we make our way inside. There are photographers inside, too, but they aren’t as aggressive. They’re actually asking most people if they can take their picture, which is much better than “Hey, you!” Click. At least I’ll have time to open my eyes and smile, instead of gaping like a dead fish.
We take the elevator up to the ballroom. Dean helps me remove my coat and hands it to the young girl at the coat check.
“Your dress is gorgeous,” she says quietly when I turn to run my hands over the small train, making sure it hasn’t bunched up.
“Thank you.” I smile at her.
Dean peels off his own coat. It’s my turn to pick my jaw up off the floor. Dean Wyatt in a tuxedo is a sight to behold. He tilts his head and flashes me a cheeky, boyish grin.
“You okay?”
“Uh-huh,” I grunt stupidly.
“Then what’s this for?” he asks, reaching up and pulling my thumb away from my mouth. My cheeks heat up, and I can feel my ears burning.
“I’ve never seen you all dressed up.”
“Oh.” He frowns. “Do I look like a complete dick?”
I laugh. “Uh, no, Dean. You look good. Really good.”
The coat-check girl giggles and takes Dean’s coat. She disappears into the room for a minute and comes back out, handing him an envelope, which he slides into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.
He offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him guide me toward the ballroom. We’re stopped by a photographer who takes our picture. I feel really stupid and out of place, but the photographer looks at his digital display and smiles.
“Beautiful, thank you.”
Walking into the ballroom, I’m in awe. The place is decorated beautifully, with white-gold linens and colorful flowers centered on each table. The sun is beginning to set over the city, creating a spectacular view. Everything is picture perfect.
“Drink?” Dean asks, his head bent down toward my ear.
“Please,” I beg.
“Champagne or something a little harder?”
“Let’s start with the bubbly. Probably shouldn’t get drunk before I even see your parents.” Dean chuckles and grabs a couple flutes from a tray that a waiter is holding out. “So what do we do?” I ask, sipping my glass and looking around.
“We mingle,” he answers unenthusiastically, taking a big gulp of champagne.
“Okay,” I shrug. I’m not used to parties like this, but I guess I’ll figure it out.
We spend about forty-five minutes simply greeting people as they arrive, making small talk. Dean keeps at least one hand on me the whole time, either on my back, my hip, or threaded with mine. It makes me feel good, like he’s claiming me in front of all these people.
There are a few young women—socialites—milling about, chattering and drinking champagne. Their eyes flit around the room, narrowing and widening as they people-watch. None of them seem to have come with dates, and Dean informs me that they attend these things hoping to latch on to the young, eligible, wealthy males. Said males attend hoping to get laid by beautiful, young, air-headed socialites.
“He was so handsome. But stubborn. A lot like his grandson. I know he’s had his challenges, but your gentleman has a good heart. He doesn’t think very highly of himself, though. It’s a shame he doesn’t see what you and I see. He lets those close-minded dingbats get to him.” She presses her lips together and then smiles. “You two complement each other very well. I was here when Joe and Maria welcomed both those boys into the world, and I hope I’m around to see the beautiful babies you produce. I can imagine with your youth and his virility that you can’t get enough of each other, so maybe the babies will come sooner rather than later?”
I cough and clear my throat. “I…we…uh.”
“No need to be embarrassed, dear. I may be an old lady, but I understand passion. It’s evident in the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Sort of like he’s doing right now.”
I glance over and see Dean talking to a young, blond woman—but he’s looking at me. He winks, making me smile.
“See? He’s got one of the easiest tarts in all of Minneapolis vying for his attention, but he simply cannot take his eyes off you. That, my dear, is a man in love.”
My heart stutters. I don’t bother to correct her. If it makes her happy to think that we’re in love, why would I tell her otherwise? I watch as Dean excuses himself from the obviously perturbed blonde. She narrows her eyes at me before being surrounded by her pack of hyena friends.
“Janice,” he nods. “Can I steal my date from you?”
“Of course, dear. She’s all yours.” She leans in to give me a warm hug. “Babies,” she whispers in my ear, making me snort in an unladylike manner.
“I’m sorry,” Dean groans, leading me away.
“For what?”
“For leaving you for so long.”
“Oh,” I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. She’s a funny lady. I think she had a thing for your grandfather.”
“You think?” he teases. “I’m sorry anyway. I got accosted.”