Piece by Piece

by Kaylee Ryan

  I don’t know this man. He could be a serial killer for all I know, but something in my gut tells me he’s good. Everything he’s done for me, a complete stranger, solidifies that. I’ve always been one to follow my gut. My gut told me to get out of Indiana as fast as I could. My gut told me Florida was where I needed to be.

  “Tell me about you,” I say once we’re on the beach.

  “I grew up in a big family. I have four brothers. One older and three younger.”

  “Wow. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

  “Chaos.” He chuckles. “We were always getting into something growing up. Luckily our parents guided us and kept us on the straight and narrow. We have a lake on our family’s property, and we spent every waking moment there growing up.”

  “You have a lake?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Yeah, we would fish, ski, Jet Ski, swim, you name it. We still spend as much time there as we can.”

  “Sounds beautiful. Where is home?”

  “Tennessee.”

  “I’m picturing something like a postcard, vast trees surrounding the lake.”

  “That’s pretty much it.”

  “You should send me a picture when you get home,” I say without really thinking. This man is just passing through. He’s not going to want to keep in touch with me.

  “Or I could show you.”

  It takes me a minute to process what he’s saying. “I can’t go to Tennessee.”

  “Why not?” He stops walking and steps in front of me. His hands rest on my hips, and the heat from his body seeps into mine. It’s comforting in a way that I can’t explain.

  “I live here. Besides, I could never afford the travel expenses.”

  “You would be my guest.”

  “Owen.” I sigh. “Your heart—” I place my hand on his chest. “—is the kindest I’ve ever known, but I can’t keep letting you take care of me. I need to stand on my own two feet.”

  “What if I want to take care of you?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

  “It’s getting late. We should go.” The thought of this kind, gentle man wanting to take care of me sets my soul on fire. However, we can’t go there. I can’t go there. I need to be able to take care of myself. Always. I never want to be dependent on someone else ever again.

  “Fine,” he grumbles, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Let’s go get your car.”

  “I’m paying you back, Owen. It’s going to take some time, but I’m going to do it.”

  “I don’t want your money. You want to pay me back, then spend time with me. Anytime you’re not working while I’m here, you’re with me,” he suggests.

  “Owen—” I start, and he stops me with his finger pressed to my lips.

  “I want to spend time with you.” His voice is soft, almost pleading, and it’s as if he’s speaking the words I want to say. I’m just too afraid.

  “I work a lot.”

  “I know. I’m here for a few more days. Let me have the time you’re not working.”

  I find myself nodding before the word “Yes,” slips past my lips.

  “That’s my girl.” He smiles down at me before taking my hand and leading us back to his rental.

  Chapter 7

  Owen

  I tossed and turned all night long. It took every ounce of willpower I had to leave her again. Each day that I leave her, it gets harder and harder. That’s why I have a plan. It came to me in the wee hours of the morning. I almost called my brother Royce, but I decided against it. Instead, I lie awake, working out the pitch I was about to give.

  “What’s up?” Royce answers.

  “You got a minute?” I ask.

  “Yes.” There is no hesitation in his voice. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just want to run something past you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “In order to tell you my plan, I need to start from the beginning.”

  “I’m listening,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, I know he’s concentrating on nothing but our conversation.

  “Jase sent me here to look over the place and look at the numbers. As you know, the first week I was here, they were dragging their feet, and all I had to do was experience the hotel, and watch things like capacity, cleanliness stuff like that.”

  “I’m with you,” he tells me. “I’m surprised that you didn’t come on home and have them send the numbers to you,” he adds.

  I’m getting there, brother. “During that time, I’ve had dinner each night in the hotel restaurant.” I pause, not really sure how to say this next part. “I met someone,” I say, just tossing the words out there. “She’s a waitress,” I’m quick to add. “I barely know her, except from what I’ve observed and what she’s told me, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Hell, it just about tore me to pieces inside to say goodbye to her last night knowing she was staying in her shitty apartment in her even shittier neighborhood.”

  There’s a long pause, and I’m about to keep rambling when Royce finally asks, “What do you need from me?”

  His acceptance of my feelings for Layla sends relief washing over me. “I know it’s crazy, but I had an idea. She’s had a rough life. No family except for a man and a woman who run the restaurant at the hotel who kind of adopted her into theirs. I want better for her.”

  “It’s more than that,” Royce calls me out.

  I nod even though he can’t see me. “It is. I’m not ready to let her go yet.” The words come out in a rush as if I’m releasing a secret out into the world.

  “I felt like that once.”

  I swallow hard. “I know.”

  “Tell me what I can do, Owen.”

  “I want to give her a job. She’s not had any experience, but she’s smart, and I know she can learn. I was thinking that maybe she can be a back-up for Sawyer. I know you hate that she works so much now that she’s taken on more duties from each of us, not just you. I thought maybe they could job share or something? Or maybe she can be Sawyer’s assistant? Fuck, Royce, I don’t really know. What I do know is that I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a woman, and the thought of leaving her here when I come home is tearing me up inside.”

  “Done. It helps you keep your girl, and it gives mine some breathing room. I want kids, and the way she’s been working, she’ll never agree. This works in both of our favors. You think that you can convince her to come with you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do what you have to do. I’ll fill Sawyer and the guys in, and you bring her home. We’ll make it happen.”

  “Thanks,” I say, choking up. “I don’t know if I can convince her to stay with me, so I’m going to have to maybe find her a place to stay.”

  “Done. She can stay at Sawyer’s apartment. Her lease isn’t up for another three months. You can renew, or maybe she’ll move in with you by then.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. It’s just sitting there. I know Sawyer isn’t going to care. Hell, she’s going to love having another woman around.”

  “I’ve got my work cut out for me convincing her.”

  “Offer her a generous salary, one she can’t refuse. You’re the numbers guy. You know we can afford to do it. Besides, it sounds like she might be a Riggins soon anyway.”

  “Whoa, no one is talking marriage here.”

  “Not yet.” He chuckles. “I’ve been in your shoes recently, and I know that fighting it is useless. Bring her home. I want to meet her. She has a job here as long as she needs it.”

  “Thanks, Royce.”

  “It’s your company too. This is our legacy, Owen. I know you wouldn’t do anything to harm that. You trust her. She’s in. That’s it.”

  “You trusted Jennifer.”

  “Yeah, and I fucked up. I’d like to think that you and those other three loons we call brothers learned something from my mistake. However, if it turns out that this girl— What’s her name?”

  “Layla.” Her name rolls off my tongue like a caress. />
  “—if Layla turns out to be a mistake like my ex-wife, we’ll handle it together. You’re not in this alone.”

  “You make it sound like I’m going to war.”

  “You are, but the battlefield is your heart. Keep me posted, and I’ll get things set up on my end. I think we’ll put Sawyer in the small conference room. Turn it into an office. If I thought I could get away with moving her into mine, I would. But we both know my fiancée isn’t going to go for that. Anyway, we’ll convert the small conference room that we never use into an office and put Layla at the front desk.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s the magic, brother.” He laughs and ends the call.

  I feel better after talking to Royce, and I know, without a doubt, he will handle things on his end just like he said. There have been times when I’ve taken for granted the family that I have and the fact that I know they are always there for me. This is one of those times that I’m thankful to have them. I hate that Layla doesn’t have that support. I want to give that to her and so much more.

  * * *

  “Hi,” Layla greets as she slides up to my table. “You want your usual?” she asks, pen and paper in hand.

  “I missed you today.” I can tell from the shock on her face that’s not what she was expecting me to say. I’m a man of few words, but when I do speak, it’s me. It’s real. I don’t see the point in hiding it or beating around the bush. I missed her, and I wanted her to know.

  “Owen.” She breathes my name, and I have the mental image of her doing so while I’m pushing inside her.

  “The usual is fine, Layla.”

  “You’re later than usual,” she says. She’s yet to write down my order, which is fine. I’m sure she has it memorized.

  “I was working today, and I have a proposition for you. I was hoping we could talk when you get off?”

  “I’m off in an hour.”

  I nod. “We can take a walk on the beach.”

  “At night?”

  “I’ll protect you,” I tell her with a grin.

  “It’s not that I’m scared. I’ve just never done it before.”

  “You love the ocean.”

  “Yeah, but a woman alone on a quiet beach sounds like a scenario for something bad to happen. I’m careful, Owen.”

  “I’m glad that you take precautions. Let me show you the ocean at night,” I say, reaching out and running my thumb over her wrist.

  She stares at me for several seconds. “I’d like that. I’ll get this put in,” she says, and rushes away.

  I watch as she walks away and see the limp from before is gone. I’m glad to see a new pair of shoes did the trick. A pang of sadness hits me when I think about everything she’s sacrificed to try and make a better life for herself. She’s doing it all on her own. The exhaustion around her eyes and her too-thin body is a strong indication that she’s struggling. Not that I didn’t already know that. I want to take the struggle away from her. I want to bring the light to her eyes and knock some of life’s bricks from her shoulders.

  The next hour passes quickly. I eat dinner alone while my eyes scan the restaurant for a glimpse of Layla. She checks on me a few times, and with each moment she steps away from my table, my craving for her burns brighter. Hotter.

  “I can’t believe you work this close to the beach and have never taken a walk at night,” I say, lacing my fingers through hers.

  “My life growing up was rough, Owen. I saw what the world is capable of. What evil could do. Too many nights I stayed awake with my dresser pressed against my bedroom door to keep the creepy men my mother hung out with from sneaking into my room.”

  “Layla.” I stop and turn her to face me. “Did they hurt you?” There is a dark edge to my voice. I don’t know what I’ll do if she says yes. I already feel as though I could commit murder to defend her honor.

  “No. I was smart enough to lock them out. Doesn’t mean I didn’t cower in the dark of the night afraid that they would.” Her voice cracks and I act on instinct.

  My arms wrap around her, and I pull her into my chest. She doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. As we stand here in the darkness, nothing but the roaring sea around us, she steals a piece of me, a piece of my heart. “I’ve got you,” I tell her with conviction.

  She holds on a little longer before lifting her head. I don’t release my hold on her as her eyes find mine. “Thank you, Owen. I’m sorry I broke down like that. I just… I don’t feel alone when I’m with you.”

  “Never again, Layla. You will never be alone again,” I assure her. My hand cups her soft cheek. “I promise you.” More tears fall from her eyes. “Come on.” With my arm around her shoulders, I lead her back to the hotel and to the elevator. She stays snuggled into my side without question. Once we reach my floor, I lead her to my room, pushing the door open for her. She doesn’t hesitate to step into my suite.

  “What are we doing?” she asks. Her voice is gravelly from her tears, and I hate it.

  Ignoring her question, I dig into the dresser, pulling out a T-shirt for her to wear. “You can change into this.”

  “Owen?”

  “I need you with me tonight, Layla. I wish I could explain to you why, but I can’t. I don’t have the words. All I have is this need to comfort and protect you. I promise you that you’re safe with me. I need you here with me.”

  I watch as her big blue eyes well with tears. My gut twists when I see them, knowing I’m the reason this time. I open my mouth to try and console her, but she beats me to it.

  “Okay.”

  One word softly whispered by the beauty who has enthralled me is all it takes for my shoulders to relax. “Thank you, baby.” I take a step forward and lean over until my lips are pressing to her forehead. “I’ll be right here,” I assure her, stepping back so she can get around me to the bathroom to change.

  I let my eyes trail her, following until she disappears behind the bathroom door. The audible click of the door closing and the lock engaging spurs me into action. Going to the nightstand beside the bed, I pick up the phone to call room service. I’ve already eaten, but I’m sure she hasn’t. I order a few random items that I hope she’ll like and wait patiently for her to join me.

  Chapter 8

  Layla

  My legs tremble beneath me as I stare at Owen’s shirt that I placed on the counter. Reaching out, my hands grip the ledge, offering me the balance my legs are incapable of. He needs me here.

  That’s what he said. I don’t think anyone has ever told me they needed me. My head swims with what it means.

  Owen is unlike any man I’ve ever met. He’s this sexy, serious businessman, and he needs me. Me. Layla Massey. The girl who grew up moving from one shithole to the next. The same girl who hid in her bedroom with her furniture against the door to ward off the advances of the company her mother kept. That girl. He wants that girl. He knows how I grew up. Sure, I skimmed the details, but I gave him enough to understand. He’s a smart man.

  He wants me to stay here with him, and even though I’ve only known him a short amount of time, I want to be where he is. I know it’s dangerous, and it’s crazy, but my gut tells me that Owen is one of the good ones. He’s a man of his word, and I know I can trust him. He’s done so much for me, a complete stranger, already.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly exhale before I begin to strip out of my clothes. I smell like the restaurant, and the shower taunts me. It’s bigger than my entire bathroom at my apartment, and the appeal is just too strong.

  The hot spray feels incredible against my tired muscles. And the water pressure… I don’t think I’ve ever taken a shower with the pressure this strong. Using the hotel provided bottles from the sink, I take care of business. It’s the best shower I’ve ever had in my entire life, and I have Owen to thank for it. I’ll just add it to the list of things I have to repay him for. My hope is that one day I’ll be in the position to do so.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been in he
re, but the bathroom is filled with steam, and my hands are pruned. Reluctantly, I turn off the water and climb out. I didn’t think this through, as the only clean clothes I have is his T-shirt. I hate the thought of putting on my other clothes, but I don’t have much choice.

  “Layla,” Owen’s deep voice greets me through the door.

  “Sorry!” I yell back. “I’ll be out soon.”

  “I got you something. I’m going to leave the bag next to the door. I’m going to step out of view while you retrieve it.”

  “What is it?” I call back.

  His deep chuckle, although muffled, filters through the door, and it has me immediately relaxing. “You’re going to have to look for yourself. I’m walking away now.”

  I count to ten slowly, then again just to be safe. With the towel gripped tight and holding it around my body, I unlock the door and peek out to see a shopping bag on the floor. I open the door a little wider and grab it quickly, slamming the door. I don’t know why because I’ve imagined being naked in front of Owen more times than I can count since I met him, but having that be reality and not fantasy is not something I’m sure I’m ready for. I can only imagine the women he’s been with. He’s sexy and has his shit together. That’s intimidating when you’re talking about taking your clothes off.

  Turning the lock on the door, I set the bag on the counter and begin pulling out the contents. I feel my face heat when I pull out a black silk bra and panty set, and surprisingly in my size. Next is a T-shirt with the hotel’s label, and a pair of cotton shorts.

  He bought me clothes.

  Hot tears prick my eyes. I’m no one to him, yet he continues to take care of me. It’s overwhelming the feeling of being seen. Not just being seen, but it makes me feel not so alone in the world.

  I slip into the bra and panties that fit perfectly and are nicer than anything I’ve ever owned. I reach for the shirt and shorts and spy his shirt on the counter. I have a choice to make. I can wear the clothes he got me or his shirt. Indecision plagues me, and I go with my gut. Placing the shorts and the T-shirt back into the bag, I grip his tee in my hands and bring it to my nose, inhaling his scent. Making a quick decision, I slide out of my bra and slip his shirt over my head. It’s huge on me, hanging to my knees, but that doesn’t bother me. His scent wraps around me just like it did earlier tonight when he held me in his arms.