by HELEN HARDT
“It was a long time ago,” I said. Plus, it didn’t even happen.
“It’s never too late. You look pretty young.”
“I’m almost twenty-six.”
“Ah, an older woman.” He grinned. “I’m almost twenty-five.”
Far cry from Bryce’s thirty-eight. This guy wouldn’t have a problem with my pink and yellow unicorns. He’d never even know about them.
The server brought our lunch, and again, I was happy to have something to do. We made a little small talk as we ate. When we were done and the server brought the check, he reached for it.
“I’d really like it if you’d let me pay,” I said. “I can’t take your training for nothing.”
“I told you. It’s not for nothing. It’s for your company.”
“I’d be happy to give you my company and pay for lunch.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it.”
He was a gentleman for sure. He now knew I owned a ranch, so he must know I didn’t have any financial issues. He couldn’t know exactly how big the Steel operation was, though.
He paid quickly, and we left the restaurant. “I have another client in a half hour, so I need to get back.”
“I understand. When should we get together to train?”
He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to me. “Here’s my number. Give me a call”—he grinned—“anytime.”
He turned and walked back toward the gym. I stood, my mouth agape, holding the thick gray card. His photo was on it. His hair was longer in the picture, and if possible, he looked even better that way.
He was gorgeous. He was a gentleman. And he was ripped as all get-out.
But not so much as a spark.
Just being near Bryce made my skin tighten and tingle. This guy?
Nope.
But what did that matter? I wasn’t looking for a husband. I was looking for a date. And I got one. He was a good date. A damned good date.
I smiled to myself, still staring down at the card. When I finally looked up—
Bryce stood in front of me.
Chapter Thirteen
Bryce
Marjorie’s cheeks were flushed, and her hair was damp. She looked fresh and relaxed after her workout.
That flush probably covered her entire body, from the swells of her plump breasts down her flat tummy to the tops of her perfect thighs.
My mind edged to the jagged scar on her left thigh. I’d meant to ask her about it, but I never had.
“Where’s Henry?” she asked.
“Mom picked him up. He was getting fussy and he needed a nap.”
“Why didn’t you just take him home?”
Indeed, why hadn’t I? I’d fibbed to Mom and said I had a few errands to run, but the truth? I’d been hoping to run into Marjorie again.
“I have some errands.”
“Oh. I’ll let you get to it, then.” She turned.
“Wait.” I gripped her shoulder. “You want to get some lunch?”
“What are you doing, Bryce?”
Nothing like getting right to the point. “I just thought…you might be hungry.”
“I just had lasagna at the Bungalow, and you know how big Mrs. Pagliacci’s portions are. I’m not hungry, Bryce.”
“Oh.”
She bit her lower lip.
It was plump and firm. It had been against my lips, on my cock, and right now I wanted so badly to be the one doing the biting.
“Please stop doing this,” she finally said.
Doing what? The words were on my tongue, but I couldn’t say them. I knew damned well what she meant.
I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her against the brick of the building we stood next to. “I’ve tried, Marjorie. I’ve tried so hard to get you out of my head.”
“According to your note, I basically mean nothing to you, so I don’t see why it’s that hard, Bryce. Now if you’ll kindly let go—”
I couldn’t help myself. I captured her lips with my own.
Usually she opened without prompting, but not this time. I slid my tongue over the tight seam of her beautiful mouth, coaxing, coaxing, coaxing…
Nothing.
Her lips remained tightly shut.
Not that I blamed her.
I kept at it a few seconds more until she finally pushed at my chest, breaking my grip. “Stop this!”
“I…can’t.”
“What is it, Bryce? What do you want? Because you can’t have it both ways.”
“I…”
“Spit it out, for God’s sake. You push me away, say I mean nothing to you, that nothing happened between us, and then…we run into each other and you can’t keep your hands off me? It’s not fair, damn it. It’s not fucking fair.”
She was right, of course. None of this was fair.
“If things were different…”
“If things were different…what?” she asked. “We’d be together? You’d want me in your life?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she continued speaking.
“We are all going through this. All of us. Not just you. You’re not even going through the worst of it.”
“Marj—”
“Shut up! Just shut up. I’m not done yet. For once, I’m going to have my say, even if it’s in the middle of town with everyone listening.”
I scanned the area. Passersby looked our way.
“Can we go somewhere else?”
“Everyone knows, Bryce. There are no more secrets. They all know who your father was. Keeping quiet about it won’t change it.”
“But my mom…”
She closed her mouth. It was a cheap shot, but it worked. This affected my mother just as much as it affected anyone else. She was an older woman who didn’t deserve any gossip—no more than she’d already put up with, anyway.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“We can go somewhere else. You can keep yelling.”
“Where? Where the hell do you think we can go? You don’t want me at your house, and you won’t come to mine. Where, Bryce?”
I eyed the Snow Creek Hotel across the street. “There.” I pointed.
“Sure, that’ll work. Bertie’s at the desk, and of course she won’t tell anyone that Bryce Simpson and Marjorie Steel went into the hotel together.”
She had a point, but I no longer cared. I grabbed her arm and walked with her across the street to the hotel. I didn’t have money to spend on a hotel room, but I would in two weeks. Until then, I had a credit card. I pulled it out of my wallet and laid it on the desk in front of the middle-aged blond woman. “A room please, Bertie.”
“Sorry, Bryce. We’re booked.”
“Why isn’t the no-vacancy sign on then?”
“It’s burned out.”
“Of all the— Fine.” I grabbed Marjorie’s arm and walked her out of the hotel. “So much for that.”
“You just made a spectacle. Just because we didn’t get a room doesn’t mean Bertie won’t spread the news all over town that we went into the hotel together.”
“You know what, Marj? I don’t give a flying fuck what Bertie and the whole town think. I really don’t.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you give a flying fuck what my brothers think?”
My mouth dropped open.
“Because they’ll hear about this, and they’ll want an explanation.”
I’d been so worked up, so filled with passion and desire, that I hadn’t thought about what the Steel brothers would think. Or do. I was a big, strong guy. Maybe I could take one Steel brother. Three? Not in a million years.
“You always say you’re an adult and that it’s none of your brothers’ business what you do.”
There. That should take care of her.
“I am. And it isn’t.” She huffed. “You know exactly what I mean, Bryce.”
I didn’t answer. Her lips were red from my attempt to kiss her before, and the warm flush crept up her chest. She stood with her hands on her hips, looking adorably angry
and indignant.
My dick strained against my jeans. Nothing mattered except having her again.
One more time.
Just once more, and then I’d be able to leave her alone.
But I knew better.
I’d never get enough of this woman. No woman had ever excited me the way she did, had ever made exquisite love to me the way she did.
No woman ever would.
“Well?” she said. “May I go now?”
Only then did I notice she carried what looked like a business card. I glanced at it.
“Who’s Dominic James?”
She hastily shoved the card into her handbag. “A trainer at the gym.”
“Oh.” That was innocent enough. None of my business anyway. “You hired a trainer?”
“Uh…yeah. Why else would I have his card?”
“Right.”
“See you around, Bryce.” She turned.
Everything in me screamed at me to grab her and never let her go. To take from her what we both desired. To make her mine wholly and completely right here in front of the hotel in Snow Creek.
I used every ounce of willpower to keep my feet glued to the sidewalk. Every fucking ounce.
Every.
Fucking.
Ounce.
After she was out of sight, I walked back into the hotel. “Bertie, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone Marjorie and I were here today.”
“You weren’t here today. We’re full.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not a gossip, Bryce.”
I had to hold back an eye roll. “Please. It’s important. We were going to have a business meeting. That’s all. I’m working at the ranch now.”
“I know.” She smiled. “We all know. We think it’s wonderful what the Steels are doing for your family.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Taking you in as they have.”
“Taking me in? I’m working for them, Bertie. I’m their new CFO.”
“Of course you are. And it’s wonderful for your mother and your little boy.”
I pounded my fist on the desk, making Bertie jolt, and then I turned and walked out. The whole town thought the Simpsons were a fucking charity case. That was great. Just great.
Now what? I didn’t have errands. I could go home and spend time with my son. And I would. After I made one stop.
My feet, of their own accord, took me to the gym. I wasn’t a member, but we were a small town. Anyone could use the gym on a daily basis for a fee. I didn’t have any workout clothes with me, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.
“Bryce,” Todd, the guy working the front desk, said. “What’s up?”
“Not much. Thinking about doing some training. You have a list of the trainers I could look at?”
“Sure.” He pulled a flyer off a shelf. “Knock yourself out.”
I quickly scanned the sheet of paper. No Dominic James. That didn’t bode well. “I’m looking for some specific training. I heard you have a guy named Dominic who’s really good.”
“Dominic?”
“Yeah, Dominic James?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell with me, but there is a new guy who started recently. We haven’t updated our flyers in a while.”
“Could you get me his number?”
“Why don’t you just go upstairs to the office? You can talk to whoever you want.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Todd.”
Chapter Fourteen
Marjorie
Damn him. Damn Bryce Simpson.
It had taken everything in me not to respond to that kiss in the street.
Everything.
I’d wanted to open, feel his tongue against mine, taste him, lean into him and let my hard nipples scrape against his chest.
Then I remembered his words. The words that had shattered me to my core and led me to almost do something I’d have instantly regretted.
Then…Mama.
Little Henry…
His chubby little fingers squeezing at my heart…
Even now, the vein in my thigh throbbed along with my beating heart.
The scar.
I’d first cut myself when I found out Talon had been taken as a result of my own conception. Wendy Madigan, Ryan’s birth mother, had been obsessed with my father, and when my mother turned up pregnant with me, Wendy had made him pay.
And she’d made Talon pay. My poor middle brother had been the real victim.
When I’d found out, I’d been distraught. Nothing helped the emotional pain.
Nothing…except self-harm.
I kept the cutting high on my thigh where no one would see. Bryce had brushed against it more than once but had never asked me about it.
I was thankful, for I had no idea what I’d tell him if he did.
It didn’t matter at this point. We’d never be in the situation where he’d see it again.
And still the scar throbbed.
I’m here, it echoed. I’m always here when you need me. I am what you can count on. Always. Always. Always.
I drove into the driveway. Parked my car. Walked to the house.
Still my thigh throbbed in time with my heart.
I raced to the kitchen. It was empty, thank God. I opened the refrigerator and let the cold air whoosh over my body.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Let the cold air saturate you. Let it consume you. Numb you.
You don’t need to hurt yourself.
You don’t need to hurt yourself.
You don’t need to hurt.
Don’t need to
Don’t need—
I shut the refrigerator door quickly.
More. I needed more.
I raced to my room, closed and bolted the door. I yanked my purse off my shoulder and spilled the contents on to my bed. From there I could access the zippered pocket.
Home to my blade.
These are my friends…
The words to the song from Sweeney Todd echoed in my mind, a love song to his razors.
I understood all too well.
I held the sharp blade in my hand, regarded its shape against the light skin of my palm.
My friend.
Always could count on my friend for relief.
I shed my shoes and workout leggings quickly until I stood only in my green cotton panties.
The scar was still red and jagged. Yes, red and jagged…but healed. No scabbing. No oozing. It was totally healed.
These are my friends.
My friend.
I grasped the blade between my thumb and first two fingers and slowly lowered it to the scar.
I let the coolness of the silver blade sit against my flesh for a minute as I savored what was to come.
My friend…
Then I sliced into my flesh.
Chapter Fifteen
Bryce
The trainers’ office was empty. I stood for a few minutes until a young woman entered.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I help you with?”
“I’m looking for your new trainer.”
“Dom? He’s with a client right now. Are you interested in booking a session?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you looking for something specific in a trainer?”
“Just want to get in shape.”
“I can probably help you.” She held out her hand. “I’m Amber.”
“I’m sure you’re great,” I said, “but I’d feel comfortable working with a male trainer.”
“I understand. Dom should be done in a few minutes if you want to wait. Or I can grab Sal or Mel for you.”
Dom, Sal, and Mel. Sounded like the gym mafia. “I’ll wait for Dom if that’s okay.”
“Sure enough. I’ll send him in when he’s done.”
Amber walked out, her tight behind wiggling slightly. Yeah, she was cute and had a hot little body. Her auburn hair was attractive too. But
like Heidi, she did nothing for me.
No woman—other than Marjorie Steel—would ever turn me on again.
I took a seat and pulled out my phone. Might as well check a few emails while I waited. I grabbed my wallet for the card Joe had given me last night. Time to see what the Spider was up to, if anything. I typed in the address and the password, and—
“Hi. You wanted to see me?”
I looked up. A tall guy with black hair and olive skin stood in the room. I rose and held out my hand. “Yeah, Bryce Simpson.”
He shifted slightly. Probably just my imagination.
“Dominic James.” He took my hand. “Amber says you’re looking for a trainer.”
“I am. Nothing major. Just need to get back in shape, you know?”
He glanced away from me for a second. “You look pretty good. I assume you just want to work on some definition?”
Why had he glanced away if he was assessing my physique?
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Right.”
“You a member here?”
“No, I usually just pay the daily fee.”
“If you want to buy a membership, I can give you a discount on training.”
I didn’t have the money or time for a membership, and I wasn’t really interested in training. I was interested in learning more about this guy Marj was training with.
“Tell you what,” I said. “Can we set up a trial session before I buy a membership?”
“Sure. Great idea. What’s your schedule look like?”
Man, I really hadn’t thought this through. As of Monday, I’d be knee-deep into Steel financials. I wouldn’t have time to leave the ranch to work out. “Do you have weekend hours?”
“Sure. I’m here today, aren’t I?”
Right. Today was Saturday. “Perfect. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions first?”
“Not at all. Shoot.”
“Where did you study?”
“UCLA, bachelor’s and master’s in PE.”
Funny, he didn’t look like a California guy. He was about as far from a blond surfer as could be.
“And experience?”
“Three years personal training. Just moved here from Cali. I actually trained a few lesser-known celebrities. I don’t have Beyoncé and Jay-Z as references, but I’ve worked with some great athletes and with some up-and-coming actors.”