by Sarah Curtis
“When I argue with you next time, remind me why it’s a good idea to sleep naked,” she mumbled into the sheets, already mostly back to sleep.
She heard him chuckle but if he said anything, it was stolen by the sandman.
Chapter Eight
Colt
Colt came awake, a smile curving his lips as he reached out an arm. It hit cold sheets. His smile faded as he peeled an eye open, finding the bed empty.
Light shone through the slats of the plantation shutters, making him wonder what time it was. He sat up, stretching his arms over his head. He hadn’t slept so hard in ages.
Throwing back the sheets, he got up and hit the bathroom before snagging his jeans off the floor and sliding them on. He didn’t bother with a shirt as he made his way downstairs in search of Ivy.
He found her in his office.
So engrossed in what she was doing, she didn’t notice him leaning on the doorjamb, so he was able to look his fill. She’d thrown her hair in a haphazard bun, and he visualized himself pulling at the tie to watch it cascade over her shoulders. Her face was scrubbed clean. She never wore a lot of makeup, but seeing her without, he found her more beautiful. She was wearing her clothes from yesterday, but all he could see was the powder-blue bra he knew was hiding under her shirt.
“What’s a Gimli?”
Startled, her head snapped up. “Sorry?”
“Gimli.” He pointed toward her chest.
She glanced down. “Oh. A character from Lord of the Rings.”
He’d heard of the book but had never read it or watched the movies. “And that tree guy from the other day?”
She smiled. “Groot. A character from Guardians of the Galaxy. Part of the Marvel Universe.”
He nodded, having heard of that movie, also. He’d seen a couple of the older Marvel movies but was way behind on all the latest ones. Catching on to the theme, he said, “Oh, Sith, I think I can figure out, but what about kriff?”
“You have been paying attention.”
He pushed off the jamb and walked into the room. “To every word you’ve ever said.”
Her cheeks pinkened—the sexiest blush money couldn’t buy. “Another profanity from Star Wars. It translates into the F-word. See,” she raised both hands and pointed at herself, “big nerd.”
He stepped around the desk. Leaning over the back of her chair, he braced himself with the desk to look at the computer screen while speaking softly into her ear. “Working on anything good?”
“Um… the new logo. But I’m not ready for you to see it yet.”
“No rush.” Unable to pass it up, he took her chin, turning her head, and planted a kiss on her lips. “I’m going to make a coffee run. I owe you one from yesterday. Vanilla latte, right?”
She blinked, then nodded.
“Hot?” He thought he remembered that was her preference.
“Yeah.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and stood to full height. “I’ll be back.”
“Colt?”
He stopped at the door and turned back to her.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
And she was. Waking up to Ivy in his house, seeing her sitting at his desk, tasting her sweet lips… She was definitely a pleasure.
“I’m done.”
Colt tipped his head up from the couch when Ivy came hurrying in from his office. She skittered to stop right before plowing into his feet that were hanging off the cushion. She had a beaming smile plastered across her face, making it impossible not to smile back.
He sat up, grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and hit the mute button. “With the website?”
“Yep. And a few other things.” She snatched his hand and tugged. “Come on, I can’t wait to show you.”
She pulled him to the office like a kid leading their parents to the tree on Christmas morning—all excitement and anticipation.
It was impossible for her eagerness not to rub off, and Colt picked up his pace.
He followed Ivy into the office and around the desk to find the made-over website’s home page already displayed on the computer screen. The yellowish-green background of the new logo was the first thing that caught his eye.
“As you can see, I used a warm-tone background with punches of vibrant color.” She pointed at the screen.
He had to admit, the whole theme was inviting.
The new logo was a black, stylized icon of children holding hands, sandwiched between the words Colt’s and Kids. He really liked it. Simple, yet effective.
She took him through the workings of the website and showed him how each landing page had a spot to click to make a donation. She’d updated their old Facebook page and created a Twitter, Instagram, and LinkedIn account all sharing the same branding.
“It looks great.” He spun her chair and reached for her, plastering her chest to his front. “I’d say your work here is done.”
Her head tipped to look at him. “Not quite.”
“Really? Because I had a more enjoyable plan for the rest of our afternoon.”
She planted her hands on his shoulders and slowly slid them down his arms to right above the elbow. “In that case, maybe I am done.”
He raised a brow, his lip curling up on one side. “Maybe?”
“I might need a little convincing.”
He reached for the hem of her tee, sliding his hands under the fabric and up to cup her breasts. He tweaked her nipples. “Convincing enough?”
She gripped his arms tighter, pressing her lower body into him. “Maybe a bit more.”
He dipped his head and captured her lobe, sucking it into his mouth until she squirmed. “Convinced yet?” he whispered into her ear.
“A bit more,” she whispered back.
His hand shifted down and found the button on her jeans. He flicked it open and shoved his hand into her panties, his finger landing on her clit.
Her head fell forward, colliding with his chest as she groaned, “Bingo.”
Ivy
“What’s the P stand for?”
The bed was a mess. The cream and tan comforter barely hung on at the corner and only the sheet—which was haphazardly draped over the both of them—remained.
“Nope.”
Ivy rolled her head on the pillow to find Colt with his eyes closed and an arm tucked under his head. “Preston?”
His lips turned up. “No.”
“Patrick? Paxton?”
He opened an eye. “No and no.”
Grabbing an edge of the sheet, she tugged.
He snatched the bit at his waist, clutching it so she couldn’t pull it away and chuckled.
She huffed in frustration. “How bad can it be?”
“Bad.”
“Girly name bad or this name has been around for generations bad?”
His left eye twitched.
“Ooh, a clue.” Excited, she sat up and rolled to her knees, clutching the sheet to her breast. “Which one is it?”
His eyes narrowed. “Neither.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Did you know that?”
“Then you’ll know I’m telling the truth when I say…” He tugged the sheet, ripping it from her before taking her to her back and hovering over her. “I’d much rather fuck you than play guessing games.”
Yep. That was the truth.
His lips crashed down on hers and there wasn’t a whole lot of talking for hours after that.
“It’s getting late. I should probably go home.”
She was wrapped in Colt’s arms, spooning again.
“I’ll take you in the morning. Drop you off before practice,” was his drowsy reply.
“‘Kay.”
Her reply was equally as sleepy.
“Well look who the cat dragged in.”
“We don’t have a cat.” Ivy tossed her messenger bag on the floor by the door and headed straight to the kitchen and the coffee maker.
“No text. No call. You could’ve been de
ad on the side of the road for all I knew.” Jason plopped himself down on the barstool at the kitchen island.
Ivy scooped coffee grounds into the filter. “Last time I checked, you’re not my parent.”
“I was worried.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. He sounded anything but. “Like you’ve never stayed out for days at a time.” She speared a glance at him over her shoulder. “No text. No call.”
“But we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”
“And I’d like it if we weren’t.” She pressed the start button on the coffee maker.
“Come on. You leave for a sexy football player’s house on Saturday and don’t come home until Monday morning and you think I don’t want to talk about it?”
Ivy wrinkled her nose. “You’re worse than a girl.”
“I’d take offense, but I’m too nosy to chance getting on your bad side.”
Ivy pulled a mug from the cupboard, glanced inside, and blew into it before setting it on the counter. “Not much to tell. I worked on his account all weekend. We both agreed it’d be better if he was around in case I had questions. Besides, his computer is totally kickass and made the job so much easier.”
“That’s it? No stuffing the taco?”
“First, ew, gross. Second, why the heck would you want to know? I’m your sister.”
“Because I’m completely envious and want to live vicariously through you.”
“Go watch Magic Mike.”
He thought about that for a second before saying, “Nope. Wish I could,” he stood and came around the island, “but I’ve got an interview at nine and need to start getting ready.” He leaned in and snagged her cup from the counter, filled it, and took a sip.
“Hey.” She made a grab for it, but he held it over his head.
She pushed him and coffee splashed out of the mug, getting him wet. Ivy didn’t try to contain her smug grin.
“Shit! That’s hot.”
“Good. Serves you right.”
“You’re a cold-hearted bitch, you know that?”
“Better than a hot-headed asshole.” Yes, she swore when the occasion called for it.
Instead of a snappy reply, he set the cup on the counter. “Touché, young grasshopper.” Then he sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving the mess on the floor for her to clean up.
Well, poodoo.
A few hours later, Ivy was hunched over the computer, fighting a losing battle with the L button, when the doorbell rang. She let out a frustrated huff at being interrupted just when she got the kriffing thing to work.
She missed Colt’s computer.
Jogging down the stairs, she looked through the peephole and saw a guy wearing an A-1 Electronics cap before opening the door.
“Can I help you?”
He glanced at his clipboard. “Ivy Clark?”
“Yes.”
He placed a box at her feet. “Sign here.”
She fumbled the clipboard. “What is it?”
“Now yours.”
Well, that was cryptic.
He pulled the clipboard from her hands after she signed and handed her a sealed envelope.
“Thanks.”
Sticking the envelope between her teeth, she picked up the large, rectangle-shaped box and tilted her head to examine it while shutting the door with her foot.
The Apple logo was boldly stamped across the front. Her heart skipped a beat, then started racing.
What the kriff?
She took the box to the island and set it on the counter, then opened the envelope. Inside was a bunch of paperwork and a generic gift receipt that read…
I was worried you might sneak into my house and steal mine, so I’m hoping this will curb that impulse.
P.S. This one has all its keys.
The message made her smile. It wasn’t signed but she’d have to be an idiot to not know who it was from.
Taking a steak knife from the utensil drawer, she sliced through the packing tape and opened the flaps. Nestled between two foam protectors, sat a shiny, silver laptop.
Holy Sith.
She reached out and stopped, her fingers hovering. She didn’t want to leave fingerprints. Then she laughed at her own foolishness. How else would she take it out of the box?
Reaching for it, again she hesitated. Could she accept it?
She really wanted to.
She could always tell Colt to take the price for it off what he owed for her services. That would make a huge dent in her bottom line, and she would have never bought such an expensive computer for herself, but it would make accepting it easier.
Decision made, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and called him.
He answered.
She panicked.
She assumed she’d get his voicemail since he was at practice. But when his deep voice came over the line, the carefully thought-out message she planned to leave flew from her head.
As well as her ability to demonstrate concise and intelligent speech.
“Oh. Um, hi. This is Ivy. But you probably already know that from caller ID.” Then she stupidly nervously giggled. Giggled! Gah. “Anyway, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Honestly, I thought I would get your voicemail. Why aren’t you out on some football field somewhere? No, don’t answer that. It’s none of my business. Anyway, again—because I’ve already said that onc—”
“Ivy.”
She stopped talking, and bowed her head, closing her eyes through his chuckle. “Yeah?”
“I answered because we’re on lunch break.”
She glanced at the kitchen wall clock. It read twelve fifteen.
He was still talking. “Did you get the package?”
“That’s why I’m calling. First, let me say thank you. That was very thoughtful.”
“Why do I hear a but coming?”
She smiled. “But. Unless I deduct its cost from my fee, I can’t accept it.” He was silent so long, she thought they lost connection. “Hello?”
“New rule. I’m allowed to give you gifts.”
“Wait. What? No. You can’t just make that a rule.”
“Per our agreement, I can.”
“Don’t we have to agree on new rules?”
“Not per our agreement. Rule number three stated, we have the right to add rules at any time we see fit. And I see fit.”
“We have the right. As in you and me together.”
“No. We, as in you or I.”
“You’re twisting things to suit your purpose.”
“Regardless, it’s now rule number four.”
Her jaw locked and she gritted, “Fine. I just won’t accept it.”
“Per our new rule number four, you have to.”
“Then I’ll leave it in the box and won’t use it.”
“That would be a waste.” Then, in a super sexy voice, he said, “Besides, I know you really want it.”
And that had a whole bunch of other images popping into her head and not one of them involved a new laptop computer.
She cleared her throat. “That’s hitting below the belt.” Literally.
“Just give it a try.” And then he hit just above the belt, making her stomach do a crazy flip, by adding, “Please.”
She had no defense against that and reluctantly gave in. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Just for the record, that please was also a low blow.”
He softly chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.” In the background she heard a male voice call Colt’s name. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay. Oh, and Colt.”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
His voice grew warm and intimate. “You’re welcome.”
She clicked her phone off, set it on the counter, and turned her attention back to the box.
After a moment’s hesitation, she grinned and carried it upstairs.
Chapter Nine
Colt
For what seemed as
though the hundredth time, Colt looked through the crowd of people toward the entrance to the gym.
Ivy should’ve arrived fifteen minutes ago.
They had a good turnout. Hundreds of adults and children mulled and scampered about the gym and spilled into the parking lot. They huddled around the concession carts that sold a variety of snacks like soft pretzels, popcorn, nachos, and hot dogs and sweet treats ranging from ice cream to churros. It was mostly kids who packed the gaming stall, playing a variety of video games set up for their entertainment. It also housed the deluxe gaming system that would be auctioned off later that afternoon.
Some of his teammates mingled, signing autographs and posing for pictures with fans.
“Mr. Colton?” He felt a tug on the hem of his t-shirt and looked down. A little boy stared up at him with a gapped-tooth grin.
Smiling back, he squatted. “Call me Colt. What’s your name?”
“Bobby.”
“Nice to meet you, Bobby.” Colt tipped his head at the football clutched in the crook of the boy’s arm. “Do you play?”
Bobby shook his head. “Not yet. My daddy bought this for me yesterday so you can sign it. You’re my most favoritest player.”
“And where is your dad?”
The boy turned his head, looking behind him. He pointed at a man standing a few feet away. “There.”
The man raised a hand in greeting and Colt did the same. Then he unclipped the marker attached to the collar of his shirt and motioned for the football. “I want you to promise me something, Bobby,” he said as he scrawled his name across the ball.
“Anything.”
Smiling, Colt handed the ball back. “Always follow your dreams no matter what they may be. Okay?”
“Okay!”
Colt stood and ruffled Bobby’s hair.
He watched the kid scamper back to his dad, talking wildly while waving the football. The man gave Colt another wave then the two disappeared into the crowd.
Colt dragged his gaze back to the entrance.