Six Month Rule (Kingston Ale House)

by A. J. Pine

  She made her way back to his side of the room and stopped in front of him, her radiant grin fading as her brows pulled together.

  “What?”

  She glanced at his right hand, the one that held a to-go cup from the fifth-floor café.

  Oh. Right.

  “I thought you’d already had a coffee at the hotel.”

  Holly parroted his accent, something he usually found charming and even a little sexy—especially when she was straddling him naked. But this was different. She was…hurt. And he’d done that. He’d hurt her.

  Will ran down the morning’s tally. He’d sneaked out on Holly after another amazing and surprisingly restful night. He’d lied to her, gotten skewered by Andrea, and then been caught in his lie.

  And it was only nine o’clock. Brilliant.

  Holly blinked, and her grin returned.

  “Not my business,” she said. “You’re entitled to all the caffeine you need.”

  But he knew Holly’s smiles now, and this one wasn’t real. Her disappointment, that was genuine, but she was trying to hide that now.

  She flitted off to the next model to take photos of Tallulah’s freshly tailored piece.

  It had all seemed so simple when he’d agreed to her proposal. Regardless of how much he knew he could fall for her, he also knew he shouldn’t. It was impractical in every way.

  The white lie shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. It was the emotional reaction from Holly that he wasn’t expecting, and from the looks of it, neither was she. A deep ache settled in his chest. Because, shite, he cared that it mattered, and he had no idea what to do with that.

  Whatever game they were playing, the rules had just changed.

  …

  Will double-checked his calendar app to make sure he’d made all his phone calls and crossed any necessary appointments off his list. He knew he hadn’t missed anything, but his conversation with Andrea had eaten away at him the entire day.

  He pulled his weekend bag out from next to the sofa and tossed it onto the conference table. So it had come to this—everything necessary in his life fitting into a bag that could be stowed in an airplane’s overhead bin.

  He dropped down onto the soft cushion, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back. After a few moments of quiet, he’d regroup and head to the airport a bit early, have a drink in the airline’s VIP lounge.

  “Knock, knock.”

  His office door was open, so Holly spoke the words as she hovered in the frame of the entryway.

  “Since when do you knock?” he asked, attempting a teasing smile, but it didn’t feel natural today.

  Holly entered the room and pulled the door shut behind her. Will sat up straight and watched as she locked it, as she’d done several times before, then sauntered over to him.

  “Holly, wait.” But she was already on his lap, knees hooked over his as the skirt of her dress pooled over them. She draped her arms around his neck and kissed him—soft and sweet, but something else lay beneath the surface. He kissed her back, realizing that despite Andrea’s words, he needed this—reassurance from Holly that what they were doing was still okay.

  He pulled her hands gently from his neck and laid them against his chest.

  “Uh-oh,” she said. “It’s serious, humorless Will. I thought he was on holiday. When’s fun Billy coming back?”

  She said holiday with her improving English accent, and Will couldn’t help but smile.

  He sighed. “Holly, Andrea knows. About us.”

  She shrugged. “Andrea’s not here. You know she leaves early on Fridays.”

  He did know this. It was the only reason he hadn’t rushed to throw his door back open when Holly entered. They were always careful not to let what they were doing as a couple make a mockery of what they were doing as business associates, but apparently they hadn’t been careful enough.

  He tucked her fringe behind her ear, finding it hard to breathe as she leaned into his palm.

  “Holly,” he said, his voice firm this time, and she dropped her hands from his chest.

  “Okay. You’re freaking me out a little. Is this about the coffee earlier? Because it’s totally cool. I get that you—that we—need our space in the morning, and maybe I overreacted a teensy bit.”

  “No, it’s not that. Really,” he said. “But she said—” He paused. If he continued that sentence—But she said if she thinks you’re becoming distracted, she’ll take you off this show—Holly would choose the show one hundred times over. And while he didn’t want to jeopardize her career, he also wasn’t ready to say good-bye to whatever they had started. Maybe it would end before their six months were up, but he needed time to gear up to that, not let it happen spontaneously. Because one thing was for sure. This would end. It had to. Outside the show he and Holly were planning together, their lives ran in two parallel lines. These six months were their only intersection.

  So he let self-preservation kick in, believing he could protect her from losing this job while still getting what he wanted, what he knew she wanted, too.

  “She said she doesn’t want me to distract you,” he told Holly, assuaging his guilt by at least offering half the truth. “I don’t want to distract you. This job is important to you, and I don’t want to be responsible for anything getting in the way of that.”

  Holly rolled her eyes.

  “Do you know anyone more focused on her career than me?” she asked, and he shook his head. “I’ve never once let this…” She kissed the line of his jaw, and he groaned. This only propelled her to do more, traveling toward his ear and then down the length of his neck, all the while brushing her lips across the short, soon-to-be shaved beard. “…distract me,” she added as her lips navigated their way to the other side of his face.

  She was right. Holly never ceased to dazzle him with how good she was at what she did. She could wow investors with proposals, come up with a brilliant theme to tie the show into the hotel’s New Year’s Eve festivities, and direct the tailors and seamstresses into making Tallulah Chan’s pieces look exquisite on the models they’d hired for the show, never once faltering in her confidence that she could do any of it.

  “No,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You haven’t. But if that starts to happen before our six months are up, then we stop. All right?”

  She straightened and met his gaze, her eyes now devoid of the playfulness that sparkled in them moments ago.

  “All right,” she told him. No argument. Instead she turned to face him, her legs straddling him under her dress. “I just stopped in to give you a proper good-bye before you leave for London,” she added, a small smile lighting up her features, one she had to know he was powerless against.

  Will kissed her with abandon and ignored that word, “good-bye.” He pushed up her skirt and slid his fingers beneath her knickers, his thumb pressing against her clit. Neither spoke another word as she unbuttoned the jeans he’d already changed into for his trip and helped him wriggle free, taking his boxers with them. She pulled a condom from a pocket hidden in the full skirt of her dress, tore it open, and slid it down his length. Then she guided his hands as they removed the knickers.

  Dress still on, the floral pattern covering them like a blanket, she lowered herself onto him, burying his erection to the hilt. Will breathed in sharply, a small growl vibrating over his vocal cords, and Holly let a soft moan slip from her parted lips. They’d made love in the office before, knew the unspoken rule to keep things—well—unspoken. But something about today felt different to him. Even though the show was four-plus months away, this afternoon was the first they’d spoken of what their future held, which was nothing beyond the new year.

  Holly rose on her knees and descended upon him again and again in slow, measured movements, enough that Will pushed any thoughts of the future back to where they couldn’t interrupt the present. Because, good God, what this woman did to him.

  He untied the halter from behind her neck, and as she writhed on top of him, the
bodice of her dress fell. He laid his hands back on her hips, moving with her and simply admiring the view.

  “You’re breathtaking,” he said in a rough whisper, and her heavy eyes opened to catch him staring, but she didn’t stop moving.

  “And you’re going to get us in trouble,” she teased quietly, “if you don’t shut that mouth of yours.”

  Will grinned.

  “I’m quite aware of the volume of my voice, and I assure you it is well within the safe range, Ms. Chandler,” he said. “Besides, I’d be a daft bloke to risk not receiving a proper good-bye again.”

  And before she could chastise him again, he sneaked a hand underneath her skirt and pressed his thumb back into her center. Holly bucked against him, back arching, and then gasped much louder than any of his whispering.

  “Careful,” he warned. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

  But it was Friday afternoon, and the two of them knew that no one was within earshot other than Jackie at the front desk. But Will took a bet on the constantly ringing phones and decided that Jackie was no threat to his need to finish Holly with a flourish.

  He swirled his thumb between them, and Holly’s knees gripped his thighs.

  She braced her hands against his shoulders and held still as he rotated his hips and did his best to drive this woman half as mad as she’d already driven him. He fought against the building pressure between his legs, rubbing his thumb against her until she cried out so loud she had to straighten in order to clasp a palm over her mouth. Then it was game over as she gripped the sofa behind his shoulders and rode him hard and fast until he exploded inside her, silencing his own threat of giving them away by crushing his lips against hers.

  The orgasm ebbed as Holly slowed to a stop. She kissed him one more time, straightened to tie her dress back around her neck, and then slid off him without another word. She picked up her knickers from the floor and shoved them in the pocket where the condom once was. Not until she was at the door did she turn to him one last time.

  “Have a good trip, Billy. I’m putting in some extra hours at the office this weekend, so I look forward to a proper hello upon your return.”

  Will opened his mouth to respond, but he still couldn’t articulate a coherent sound. So he watched her slip through the door, latching it once she was out, and he sat there half naked on the sofa trying to collect himself.

  He chuckled. Holly was a single-minded woman when she needed to be, at work and at play. Andrea had nothing to worry about from her. It was Will who was beginning to forget why he despised Chicago in the first place. Never mind he still hadn’t seen any of the sights.

  September

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gemini: You’re great at seeing all angles of the story, which is Gemini’s advantage. But that also makes you confused, especially when the other angles don’t align with your own. Put yourself in other people’s shoes for greater understanding.

  Holly spun her phone around on the small outside table.

  “Is your job laborious? Is that why you have the day off tomorrow?”

  She grinned at the sound of Will’s voice. She couldn’t imagine getting tired of it, though she knew one day she would.

  “Say that again,” she commanded.

  “Is your job—”

  She waved her hand. “No, no. Not the whole sentence. Just that L word.”

  Will flipped the burgers on Holly’s grill, then glanced over his shoulder at her.

  “Laborious.”

  Damn she loved that accent, even more so when the word was polysyllabic. Laborious was now her most favorite word. Ooh, maybe she could get him to say planetarium. Or the way he said aluminium. There were so many polysyllabic words he could make infinitely more gorgeous with nothing more than that accent.

  “Again,” she insisted, and he dropped the tongs on the grill’s small table and bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Laborious,” he whispered.

  His breath against her skin and the sound of her new favorite word sent waves of goose bumps up and down her spine.

  “Now,” he said, grabbing the veggie kabobs Holly had prepared this morning, “tell me more about your American holiday that gives us a three-day weekend.”

  Holly didn’t ignore that emphasis on us. Will had been moody all week when he realized one of the weekends he was staying in the States was a holiday weekend, one where he could have had extra time with Sophie. But Sophie’s mom had already planned a trip to the country to see Sophie’s grandmother, a trip where Will was obviously not invited along. Plus, on Tuesday afternoon, Tallulah Chan was going to join them via Skype for a meeting with the set designer, which meant it was best for him to stay here anyway in case any last-minute details had to be ironed out before they met. So here he was on her balcony on a Sunday afternoon. An Englishman preparing a Labor Day barbecue for a party of eight.

  Holly stood and wrapped her arms around his middle, careful not to bump into the grill. She pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and felt him let out a soft sigh.

  “I know you’d rather be home this weekend. So thank you for doing this.”

  He backed her away from the cooking food and turned quickly enough to surprise her with his kiss.

  “It’s not a matter of where I’d rather be.”

  He held her tight, kissing her again, and despite the lingering heat of late summer, she melted into his warmth, not caring if he felt the beads of sweat at the nape of her neck.

  “I’ve messed up these past six years,” he added. “I’ve been everywhere except where I should have been—with my daughter. I made her a promise that after Chicago I wouldn’t be going anywhere, not for a long time.” He rested his chin on her head, and she sank into his chest. “It’s not that I don’t want to be here with you. Because I do. It’s just that I’m meant to be there.”

  That made sense. She couldn’t question that. But she also couldn’t ignore that annoying, niggling part of her brain that thought, Wouldn’t you love it if he said he’d rather be with you? She shuddered and stepped back.

  “I’m going to go make sure the table’s all set. I think I forgot salad forks.”

  Holly ducked back into her apartment before he could remind her that they weren’t eating salad tonight. She just needed a minute to think and to remind herself that Will would always prefer his daughter over her—over any woman—as he should. Holly wasn’t in a competition. She already knew she’d lost, which was why she’d proposed their arrangement in the first place. It was the perfect setup. She just wasn’t out of the phase where she couldn’t get enough of him.

  Soon, she thought. Soon he’ll be gone, and you’ll be yourself again, just like you always are.

  She uncorked the bottle of pinot noir Will had brought and poured herself a glass. The beer crew would be there soon enough, but she needed a little something to relax her now. She cleared her throat, ignoring the dry scratchiness she felt as she did, and took a long sip of the burgundy liquid. The warmth soothed her from her lips to her belly, and she leaned her elbows on the counter, letting her head fall forward in a moment of quiet.

  Well, it was a short moment before her phone and Will’s, both next to each other on the counter, buzzed at the same time. Not a good sign.

  Holly unlocked her screen to read the text. It was from Andrea. Break-in in our building this afternoon. Everything’s all right. Insurance will cover what’s missing, but I need you to come by as soon as possible to examine your work area and fill out a report. It looks like it’s mostly electronics, but I can’t be sure until everyone has come in.

  Holly froze, her body rigid as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember. Had she brought her tablet home or left it at work for their Tuesday meeting? Because if it was at Trousseau—and now wasn’t—shit.

  Will stepped in from the balcony carrying a platter laden with burgers and vegetables, but his proud smile fell as soon as he looked at her.

  “Holly, what’s
wrong? Are you okay?”

  She could feel the color draining from her face, like all the blood was rushing out of her body. Her head pounded, and she wondered if she wasn’t overreacting just a bit.

  She slid his phone across the counter so he could read. He deposited the food on the table and read Andrea’s text just as Brynn, Jamie, Annie, Brett, Jeremy, and a girl she hadn’t met yet piled through her front door.

  “Shite,” Will said. “I take everything back with me to the hotel each night. Thank goodness for international relations, aye? Forces me to work odd hours from my room.”

  Holly’s eyes welled. “I think my tablet’s there, with the presentation for Tuesday’s meeting.”

  “Happy almost Labor Day!” Brynn yelled as the group barreled into the kitchen and dining area. “We come prepared!” She set a mini keg on Holly’s counter, but Brynn’s brows drew together when her eyes finally met her sister’s.

  “Shit, honey. What happened?”

  “A break-in at the office,” Will said. “We need to head down to see what’s missing and file a report.”

  His voice was so calm. How did he stay so calm?

  Holly didn’t form attachments to electronics. But she’d been so busy this week, preparing the presentation for the set designer, overseeing another round of fittings, and trying to coordinate with the W’s New Year’s Eve DJ, that she’d worked right up until the last minute on Friday, when she’d thrown the tablet in the drawer and rushed out to buy not only the food for this evening but something special to wear under her clothes for Will. She’d thrown her tablet in her drawer and not plugged it in, which meant it wasn’t backed up. If it was gone, so was her presentation.

  Brynn wrapped her arms around her sister and squeezed.

  “You’ve got important stuff there, huh?” she asked.

  Holly nodded, then pulled herself from her sister’s embrace and dusted off her perfectly clean maxi skirt and took a deep breath. Holly Chandler could be calm, too. And positive. And—and this was not going to break her, because she was a professional, and professionals don’t fall apart. They find a solution.