Only One Kiss (Only One Series)

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Only One Kiss (Only One Series) Page 9

by Natasha Madison


  “He got a shitload of press when Cassie died, but he refused to give any interviews.” Her voice trails off.

  “Which is normal,” I say, my voice going just a touch louder. Becca looks at me and cocks her head to the side. Her eyes watch me. “I mean, come on, his wife just died, and he was a new dad.”

  “Girlfriend,” Becca corrects me. “Regardless of her title. He refused to do anything with it.” She looks at Ralph, who is laughing with a couple of teenage boys as he signs pictures and then stands to pose for a picture. “He still refuses to do half the things I suggest.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “So why don’t you stop suggesting things you know he won’t do and bring him things that he will?” Her eyebrows raise. “I don’t mean to sound like a bitch or step on your toes.”

  “No.” She smirks. “But I like it. You like him?”

  “As my client, I want him to succeed.” I look at her point blank, and she raises her eyebrow at me. “He’s my client, and I don’t date my clients,” I say.

  “Then we are both on the same page,” she says. “Why don’t I give you a call next week, and we can go over a couple of things? Maybe come up with a plan.” I don’t want to tell her that I won’t take the meeting unless Ralph is there, and he approves of things. At the end of the day, he is in charge.

  “That sounds good,” I say, and then I see the shield that she had up come down. Her gray eyes go a bit softer even.

  “I’m glad he has you in his corner,” she says and walks over to the store’s owner.

  I take a picture of Manning also, and when it’s done, and there is no one else, I have them both pose for a picture together. “Okay, you two, let’s do some cross-promo,” I say, and Manning rolls his eyes.

  “I told you I’m not going to be on social media,” he says. “Especially not Instagram.”

  “What do you have against the ’gram?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.

  “I am a private person,” he says. “I don’t want an Instagram account, I don’t want Facebook, and I don’t want a website.”

  “I want that,” Ralph says, pointing at Manning. “Why can’t I have that?”

  “Because you gotta be the captain to have all the perks,” he says, slapping Ralph on the shoulder. I shake my head. Out of all my clients, he has to be the most private man I’ve ever met. No social media ever, and he answers and gives interviews only during the season. He is never in drama; he is never in anything. He is the best defenseman, and he’s also a monster on the ice with the hardest shot. He’s the nicest man you will ever meet, and he’s married to The Wicked Witch of The West. When I first started doing his social media, she poured a glass of champagne over my head, thinking I was trying to sleep with him. Needless to say, he’s been apologizing for her during his whole career. “I have to run. I have to pick up the kids.”

  “I’ll touch base with you next week,” Becca says to him. He walks over to her and kisses her cheek. He’s about to come to me when Ralph steps in front of him.

  “Enough with the kisses, Romeo.” He puts out his hand, and I see Becca’s just watching the scene.

  Manning laughs and looks over at me. “Keep me off social media,” he says, walking out. His blue eyes glitter at me as he puts his glasses on.

  “My job is to put you on social media,” I call out, and he just holds up a hand. “I don’t even know why I try.”

  “He pays you double,” Becca says, laughing.

  “That might be it.” I laugh, then turn to Ralph. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah.” Turning his head, he spots something. “What is that?” he says, walking to the hanging picture. Following him, I gasp when I see the picture of Evan when he was in Dallas. “Look at this.”

  “That was taken right before he got traded,” I say of the picture. “It was his one-hundredth point in one season. He was at the top of his game.” I hear Ralph laugh beside me. “I mean, he’s still at the top of his game, he’s just . . .”

  “You look so young,” Ralph says, his eyes on me in the picture.

  “I was young, and I was such a bitch,” I say, and he gasps. “I was horrible and selfish. I even tried to break up Zara and him.”

  “No way,” he says, shocked, and I nod. Taking my phone out, I snap a picture of it and send it to Evan. “I can’t picture you being anything but amazing,” he says, his voice going low as he looks at me. The two of us don’t break eye contact, and my heart beats so fast I hope he doesn’t hear it. “I should call and see how Ari is doing.” He finally looks away.

  “Of course,” I say, walking next to him while he calls. Suddenly, he stops.

  “Why is she crying so hard?” he asks, and he looks around. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He puts the phone down and looks at me. “She’s hysterical.”

  “Go,” I say. “I’ll catch an Uber.” He looks at me, not sure what to do. “I’m fine, go.” I almost push him out of the store, and when he finally gets in his truck, that is when I finally blow out the breath I was holding.

  “This is not going to end well,” I say to myself. “It can only end with your heart being broken,” I mumble.

  Chapter 14

  Ralph

  I hang up the phone, and all I can do is panic. I rush to my truck, leaving Candace there. The guilt almost makes it impossible to leave, but then I call Miranda again, and when she answers, Ari is still wailing in the background.

  “I’ve tried everything,” she says. “She isn’t hungry.”

  “Did you try rocking her?” I ask, and the sound of her wailing makes my stomach turn. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I hang up the phone, and the ten minutes feel like an eternity. I barely turn off the truck before I’m running out of it and opening the door. I follow the sound of the wailing and see that Miranda is pacing back and forth as she tries to soothe Ari. “Hello, little girl,” I say, and the minute she hears my voice, she stops crying. Her eyelashes are wet from all the tears she shed. She smiles when she sees me, and I guess I’m not fast enough to take her in my arms because she pouts and then yells at the top of her lungs. Big tears pour out of her eyes, and I take her and bring her to my chest. “When was the last time she had a bottle?” I ask Miranda, who watches us.

  “An hour ago,” she says, walking over to the bottle that is on the table. “I tried to give her another two ounces, but she didn’t want it.”

  “What is all the fuss about?” I ask Ari, and she just looks at me as she catches her breath from all the crying. Looking over at Miranda, I say, “I’ll take over from here.”

  “I can stay and cook dinner for you if you like,” she says, smiling at me.

  “No, that’s okay. It’s been a long day.” I look back at Ari, who lays her head on my chest and sucks her pacifier.

  “I’ll get going then,” she says. Walking over to us, she leans forward and kisses Ari on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I just smile and nod at her as she walks out. “What do you say, baby girl, want to sit and watch television?” I ask, walking over to the couch and sitting down. I want to call Candace to make sure she got home okay, but the phone is on the table, and Ari is finally settling down. I lean my head back, and we both drift off, and when she wakes again, I forget everything except Ari. After her bath, I walk over to the kitchen to grab a bottle and walk back to the bedroom to rock Ari. I turn on her night-light as I walk to the rocking chair and sit down. Grabbing the book, I begin reading it to her, and she falls asleep as soon as I get to the last page just like always. When I get up, I kiss her soft cheek. “I love you, baby girl,” I say and place her down in the crib. Her arms are next to her head. I walk over to the night-light, looking up now at Cassie’s picture. “Night, Cassie,” I say and walk out of the room.

  My phone beeps as soon as I enter the hallway, and I pick it up to see it’s from Candace.

  Candace: I hope everything is okay with Ari.

  I want to text her back, but instead, I Fac
eTime her, and she answers right away. Her hair is loose and down, and her shoulders are bare. I have to wonder if she’s naked.

  I stop walking. “Are you naked?” I ask, and she laughs.

  “No.” She shows me her off-the-shoulder shirt, and I wonder if she has a bra on. My cock is suddenly very interested in this piece of information.

  “It looks like you’re naked,” I say and don’t add that if I was there, I would lean over and kiss her softly on the shoulder. I would trail soft kisses to her neck and then devour her mouth.

  “Well, I’m not naked,” she says. “How is Ariella? Is she okay?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I have no idea what was wrong with her. Did you make it home okay?”

  “I did,” she says. “Lucky for me, Manning forgot something, so when he came back, he gave me a lift home.” I try to ignore the burning in my stomach.

  “Where are you?” I ask, trying to see where she is in her house. I’ve been there a couple of times now, but I have never seen that wall behind her.

  “I’m in bed working on my lists,” she says, showing me the wall behind her that has three pictures hanging on it.

  “What lists?” I ask, sitting down on the couch.

  “Every Friday night, I email my clients a list of things I need from them in order to make my posts,” she says. “And what big plans do you have on a Friday night?” She sits up now, and I see that she’s sitting in her bed.

  “I don’t know. My Friday night isn’t any different from my Wednesday night.” I laugh. “Literally, the same thing.”

  “What would your Friday nights be like before Ariella?” she asks. Normally, I would cut people off at this point. I learned really early that no one could be trusted. I opened a bit to Cassie, but even with her, I stopped at a point, which is what many of our fights were about.

  “Um, I was down with Netflix and chill before Netflix and chill became a good idea,” I say, chuckling. “Making a nice dinner at home, turning on the television, and just watching a movie.”

  “What type of dinner?” she asks. Placing her computer down on the bed, she lies on her side as she talks to me. “I’m visual.”

  “I don’t really have a favorite meal,” I say, and she shrieks.

  “Impossible! Everyone has a favorite meal.” She laughs. “If you were given one meal to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

  “I have no idea.” I shrug. “What about you?” I should thank her for the day and hang up the phone and just move on. The right side of my head tells me this is a bad idea at the same time the left side of my head tells me to shut up.

  “Shrimp scampi,” she says without missing a beat. “Or pizza.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had shrimp scampi,” I say, and she slaps the bed, making me laugh.

  “Shut up.” She gasps out.

  “Is it good?” I ask her, now at ease with the way the conversation is going.

  “It’s only the best thing you will ever eat in your whole life,” she says. “Like your whole life.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll look up recipes and make it.”

  “How about I make it for lunch tomorrow?” she asks. “We can eat and then talk about the list I sent you.”

  “I don’t want you to go out of your way,” I say, the tightness in my chest slowly creeping back in. “It’s fine.”

  “If I can have any excuse to eat it, I will. So technically.” She smiles at the camera. “You’re doing me a favor.”

  “Is that right?” I say.

  “It is,” she says. “I’m going to come over tomorrow at eleven. Is that okay?” she asks, and I nod. “I’ll start preparing, and then we can eat right before we start the meeting. It should only be a couple of hours.”

  “Don’t you have other things to do on a Saturday?” I ask, wanting to know if she is with someone, and if she isn’t, why? How could someone as perfect as her not be with anyone?

  “My Saturdays are spent going to the market, and then sometimes, I have brunch with Layla,” she says, and I suddenly want to know who Layla is. But is it fair for her to be so open with me and I be who I am? “What about you, Sherlock?” She uses the nickname. “What do you do on Saturday?”

  “Well,” I say, smiling. “Saturday is a big day in the Weber house.”

  “Really?” she asks, rolling her lips.

  “It is,” I say. “It’s nail cutting day and ear cleaning day.”

  “Whoa, all at the same time,” she jokes. “Now that’s what I call a party.”

  I laugh now at her jokes and silliness, and I’m about to say something else when I hear Ari crying. “Speak of the devil,” I say.

  “Give her a kiss for me, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and I just sit here one second watching her.

  “Good night, Candace.” I say her name softly.

  “Good night, Ralph,” she replies. She disconnects this time, and I don’t know why I can’t move off the couch.

  I hear Ari fussy now, and when I finally roll off the couch and walk into the dark room, I look over and see her kicking her feet. “What’s the matter with you?” Picking her up, I grab her pacifier and walk over to the chair. I sit down with her in my arms and rock her back and forth. I notice how much bigger she’s gotten and wonder how it would be if Cassie was here. I wonder if we would argue about how to be with her. Would I still spoil her? Probably. Would Cassie spend more time with Ari than me? Probably. Would I feel the same way I did for Cassie? Probably.

  I rock Ari for longer than she needs to be rocked, and when I place her down in the bed, she stirs until I put the pacifier back in her mouth. She is up and down most of the night, and by the time the sun rises, there are bottles everywhere. She finally falls asleep somewhere around seven on my chest as I lie on the couch. The sound of the doorbell wakes us up, and I look over and see that it’s eleven. I hold her to my chest and get up, walking to the door. I look down, seeing that she is closing her eyes. I open the door and spot Candace there, the bright sunlight making me close one eye.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I would have knocked.” She stands there in army color loose pants that cuff at the ankle. She is wearing a shirt that shows off way too much skin. It comes just above her belly button and has small spaghetti straps that are hidden by her hair. Her tan arms look soft. “You look rough.” She closes the door behind her as quietly as she can.

  “She was up half the night,” I say, turning and walking into the house. “I don’t know if it’s a full moon or not, but she ate every second hour.”

  “She’s going through a growth spurt, maybe?” She walks to the kitchen, putting the bags that she was holding on the counter. “I can come back later when you guys are both up.” Ari starts to stretch, and I look down to see that she is opening her eyes.

  “I think she’s getting up,” I say as I rub Ari’s back. “We went back to bed at seven. I didn’t know she’d be out this long.” I walk over to the couch, then sit down.

  “Do you want me to make her a bottle?” she asks from the kitchen. I look over at her, but I don’t have the energy to do anything.

  “Please,” I say. “You just press the button.” She walks toward the machine in the kitchen.

  “I know. I have one for Zoey,” she says, and I hear the machine working. Ari now does more stretching as her bum lifts up, and her small fists reach up above her head.

  “Good morning,” I say, and she smiles at me, and all the loss of sleep erases when I see her face.

  “Do you want me to feed her so you can get dressed?” she asks, and I look down at myself.

  “If I get dressed, will you get dressed?” I ask her, and she looks at me. “I have just as much skin showing as you do.”

  “What?” she asks, almost shocked. “This is fully covered.” She looks down at her outfit.

  “I see stomach, arms, shoulders.” I start naming the body parts. “Top boobage.”

  “Boobage?” She repeats the word.
>
  “It’s the part that shows the top of the boob,” I say.

  “There is no top boobage.” She pushes her hair behind her. “See.”

  “Oh, I see, and I still see it,” I say, and Ari holds out her hand for the bottle. She bends down to grab Ari, and my cock goes on full command as I see down her shirt at the satin bra that is holding her together. Her eyes go from Ari to me. I move in, and my lips find hers for one second before I move back again. She looks at me, her eyes opening slowly now. Her finger goes to her lips, touching them.

  “I . . .” I start to say.

  Candace picks Ari up and kisses her neck, not saying anything about the kiss. “If I have to cover boobage, you have to cover the tentage,” she says, turning and walking away from me. My eyes fly down to my shorts, and I see the tent definitely lifted. “I’m going to go change her diaper while you take down the tent.”

  Chapter 15

  Candace

  My heart thumps in my chest so fast I can hear it echoing in my ears as I walk away from him. My lips still tingle from his kiss. It came out of the blue, and if I didn’t see it, I would think it didn’t happen.

  When I showed up on his doorstep this morning, the last thing I expected to see was a sleepy Ralph, which is hotter than a fully awake Ralph. His hair all over the place, screaming for you to run your hands through it. Then holding Ariella with one hand to his naked chest. A chest that shows you how hard he works out in the gym, and fucking gym shorts. I always wondered why men would wear jogging pants or gym shorts with no boxers under them. He literally just showed me everything he had to offer, and all the warnings that I had in my head about not being with him just pushed it to the side.

  I walk into Ariella’s room and stop for a second before going in. The neutral cream nursery has plush cream carpet that my feet sink in as I walk over it to the cream-colored changing table with a memory foam pad on it. I place her down and look over at her crib, which is again cream with a lace coming from the ceiling draping over the sides of the crib. It’s a princess-style crib, for sure. I look over at the matching rocking chair that has a book on it and the built-in wall units beside the crib that have little pieces of Ariella. Her footprint in clay, her birth picture, and right beside it a picture of Cassie.

 

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