"Is that how it works?" I asked.
"Usually."
The candid conversation left me reeling. I had no other choice but to speak frankly. "I'm trying to decide how I feel about it," I said. "I'll be honest with you. I know lots of people like to party or whatever, but I'm not really the type who usually moves that fast."
He just continued to look at me patiently while he waited to see what I'd say next. I wanted him to say something about how I was different and how he wanted me to stay over just so he could start to get to know me, but he didn't say anything like that. So there it was. I had a choice to make. Either I leave now, or stay with the intention of having a one-night stand with him. "I'm slightly terrified, but I think I might want to test my wings at partying just for tonight."
The hint of a smile touched his lips. "I knew you had wings under there somewhere," he said, looking straight at me. It was at that moment that I knew I didn’t regret my decision. His face was nothing shy of a work of art, and there could have been no other greater distraction for me.
"Will you play for me?" His question came out of nowhere and completely spoiled the mood. I gave him a frustrated look.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I told you, I quit."
"Please," he said. "We have a piano."
"No. Absolutely not."
"Then the deal's off," he said.
"What deal?"
"The one where you stay with me tonight."
"I thought it was you who'd owe me something for the deal," I said, smiling.
He narrowed his eyes teasingly, but otherwise ignored me. "What are the chances that I can get you to play for me before you leave here?"
"About three percent."
"Three? Oh, that's excellent," he said.
I glared at him. "Three's terrible," I said.
"No it's not. If you were really serious about it, you would've said zero. You might as well just play for me now because you're going to end up doing it before you leave."
I studied his face. "You are amazingly hard to refuse," I said. "But three percent is almost zero, and I just don't see it happening. Your piano's probably not tuned anyway."
He smiled. "It's tuned, and I'll be thinking about what song I want you to play."
I gave him a look of challenge. "Nobody tells me what to play," I said.
He took me in for a few seconds, appreciating my stubbornness. "I like you, Addison."
"Addie. And I don't even think I got your name."
I knew his name but wasn't sure if he'd ever been the one to tell me, so I wanted him to go ahead and say it. "My name is Dreaded Drake Kelly." He moved closer to me, invading my space again. "And I'm at least as bad as all the stories you've heard."
What? Was he joking or did he know I knew stories? I let out a little nervous laugh. "What stories?" I asked.
He smiled. "I'm just messin' with you. But my name really is Drake Kelly." He left off the "Dreaded" part that time, but he definitely said it the first time.
"What did you call yourself?" I asked, unable to pass the opportunity.
"I was just playing around," he said. He tossed his head back, indicating that I should follow him. "Come over here. We'll talk about your table."
He brought me to a drafting table that was under a window in the corner of the room. There was a huge pad of paper with some loose sheets of sketches he'd been working on. He stood over the table and expertly shifted the papers until he got to the one he wanted to show me. There was a drawing of a coffee table done in the same maroon pencil all the other drawings were done with. It was a really cool, irregular shaped table.
"I like that," I said, "but the one I had in mind fits up against the wall and is sort of just a half circle.
He laughed. "This isn't your table; it's the one I'm working on over there." He pointed to the pile of wood that wasn't yet the beautiful table in the drawing. I walked over to it, and once I got closer, could see how the pieces in the pile would soon equal the table in the picture.
"Oh, I see it now," I said. "This is really beautiful."
He walked over to me, and when he did, he started buttoning his shirt as if he was just noticing for the first time that it was open. I wondered why he was being so shy after we had already established that there would be happy endings that evening, but didn't say anything.
After looking at the pieces he was working on, we went back over to the desk where he sketched out a quick drawing based on my description. "Why'd you come to me for this?" he asked. It almost seemed like he was suspicious of my motive, and I got nervous.
I tended to blurt out the truth as a side effect of nerves, and I had to tell myself not to just come out and tell him I was his neighbor. "Because it's custom furniture and I thought that's what kind of business this was."
"It is," he said. He looked me over with a carnal stare that made me feel weak in the knees. I leaned on the drafting table for support. He was about to open his mouth to say something when we heard a clatter.
He smiled and rolled his eyes and I looked at him curiously. "It's my dad and brother," he said.
We heard a shrill whistle, and he smiled at me. "Hold your ears," he said.
I put my fingers in my ears just in time for his whistle, which was loud and made me glad I had my ears plugged.
Chapter 10
Drake's brother and dad had just come in, and now that he let out that whistle, they knew right where to find us. I stared at the door, expecting the pair of them to come walking through it any second. I still pictured his dad with a parrot on his shoulder, and smiled inwardly at the thought.
"They've been gone for almost a month," he said. "We're having some people over."
"You already told me that," I said tentatively.
"I'm just trying to warn you that if you're not used to going out, you'll probably see some things that might seem shocking."
My second favorite thing to do after playing the piano was reading romance novels, and even though I didn't have much experience with partying as a real person, I'd been to tons of parties in my books and new all about the craziness that goes on.
"What are you warning me about?" I asked. "Drugs? Sex?"
"Yes and yes," he said. "It's safe to say you could be exposed to both of those if you stay here tonight."
I looked into his eyes, trying to understand why I just couldn't make myself leave even though he was clearly warning me off. "Will I be expected to do either of those?'" I asked, thinking it was a reasonable question.
"Not really, but it'd be nice if you volunteered for the one that's not drugs."
The door flung open, startling me and causing me to gasp and jump. Two grown men came into the room in a surge of testosterone. They were well dressed, and not at all filthy and sea-weary like I pictured they'd be.
Steven was right. The younger one looked just like Drake, only with shorter hair. It must have been a while since he shaved it because it was long enough to be messy, but it was nowhere near the length of Drake's. I stood there as they both hugged Drake. They laughed and said how good it was to be home.
Neither of them seemed to notice me at first, but then the dad, Tom Kelly, I assumed, looked at me with a sideways grin. He was a really handsome older gentleman. He was clean and tidy, wearing nice clothes with a fresh haircut that was perfectly styled. I was taken aback by the way he looked versus the way I thought Tom Kelly the pirate would look. This guy looked more like a business professional—like a movie star really.
Looking at Tom Kelly's face explained how his two sons were so gorgeous. Then his crooked smile broadened as he watched me take him in, and I couldn't help but notice he had a gold tooth. I tried not to stare at it, but there it was, plain as day. If it was possible to pull off a gold tooth, Tom Kelly did it. It somehow added to his appearance, and I smiled at myself for thinking it looked good on him.
He noticed that I was transfixed by his face, and winked at me like the seasoned flirt he was. I
could tell by the way he took me in that he actually thought he had a chance with someone like me even though his two younger, gorgeous sons were standing there. I would have normally thought that was creepy, but Tom Kelly was too likeable of a character for me to hold it against him.
"Who's your friend?" he asked, looking at Drake.
"Addison Connor."
"How do you know Drake, Addison Connor?" Tom said, looking at me.
"I'm just trying to buy a table from him. One like my grandmother had when I was a kid. I just came over here to see if he could make it."
"And she's hanging out with me tonight," Drake interrupted, saving me from further ramblings. His dad and brother both gave him knowing smiles.
I watched as they interacted for the next few minutes. Maybe I was just nervous and things were going over my head, but they seemed to be talking about a business trip. Nothing they said made me suspicious in a piratey sort of way. Drake's brother looked a lot like him in the face, but spoke with an accent that I thought was Irish or Scottish. Their dad spoke like an American, and hearing them all interact was interesting since the tone of their voices was almost the same, but their accents were completely different.
"You all three have different accents," I said, stating the obvious when there was a break in the conversation.
"I came to live with Dad when I was ten," Drake said, "but Rory came when he was fifteen and I was seventeen. That's why he still speaks like a barbarian."
Rory threw an uppercut in Drakes general direction. "I'll have you know, an Irish accent sounds like a gentleman compared to those grunting sounds that come out of you Jamaicans."
"I don't even have an accent," Drake said.
I wanted to interject that he did in fact have one and that I quite liked the sound of it, but I kept quiet. I didn't think it sounded at all like grunting.
"The boys were born of two different mothers," Tom Kelly said to me, getting back to my original question. "Drake lived with his mom in Jamaica until she got sick. She contacted me when she thought she wouldn't make it much longer and we made arrangements to get him home. Just about the same thing happened with Rory—only his mom died in a car accident when he was fifteen. She couldn't contact me, due to the sudden nature of her death, but she told one of her friends who Rory's real father was, and he contacted me."
"How long ago was that?"
"I'm twenty-one and Drake's twenty-three if that's what yer gettin' at," Rory said.
I smiled at him briefly before looking back at Tom. "Did you know them before they came to live with you?" I asked.
"I had no idea they even existed," he said.
"There's probably a dozen more like us spread out across the Atlantic, but we're the only two Dad knows about."
"That's not entirely true," Tom said. "Someone told me there was a boy in Puerto Rico claiming to be my son a few years ago, but I never heard any more about it."
The boys didn't bother looking surprised or asking whether or not it could be true.
"Drake and Rory's mothers looked a lot alike if you were wondering how they came out looking like twins," Tom added.
I had rarely, if ever, heard a white person with a Jamaican accent and I wondered what his mother must have looked like.
Just then, Rory dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He smiled broadly when he read the screen.
"Nina's at the door with the girls," he said. "I'm gonna go help them in." He gave his dad and brother a satisfied expression as he put his phone back into the front pocket of his jeans.
"Nina's got a mobile massage therapy crew. Dad likes to have them come by after they've been on the boat for a while. They set up in the back bedroom where it's nice and quiet."
"I'll bet they do," I said giggling. I didn’t know what else to say to Nina and the girls being here to administer massages.
It was that moment I realized just how badly I wanted to be with Drake Kelly because I wasn't even discouraged by Nina's appearance. God help me, but if anything, it made me want him more.
Tom left to go check on the new arrivals, and I was once again left in the huge workshop alone with Drake.
"I think I'm gonna head on out," I said. "I think your brother made plans for you already." I was most definitely bluffing. I, under no circumstances, wanted to leave, and was hoping he'd beg me to stay.
He reached out and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me toward him with such force that I got off balance and sort of teetered toward him. I tried to recover, but he just pulled again, forcing me to fall into him. He helped me steady myself, leaving a hand at the small of my back. He rubbed me gently, and the movement made me shiver, which in turn made him smile.
"I thought we already established that you were hanging out here tonight. I don't care about letting Nina work on me if it makes you uncomfortable."
What was I supposed to say? Maybe it was old fashioned of me, but I didn't like the idea of my one night stand getting a pre-game massage, which was likely erotic, from a probably-gorgeous technician. Hell yes, it made me uncomfortable.
"I think I'll probably just head on out," I said, casually.
He pulled tighter on the grasp he had on my lower back, and I instinctually looked up at him. He studied me with those bottomless grey-blue eyes. "If you decided you don't want to stay here with me, then that's fine." He shrugged. "It would be kind of weird since you already said you were, but I guess I understand if you want to change your mind."
I had broken eye contact with him while he was speaking and he squeezed me again to get me to look at him. "Hey, I don't care about those girls," he said. "I knew they were coming when I asked you to stay here. Nothing's changed."
I smiled up at him and he studied my face for several seconds, concentrating on my mouth specifically for most of that time. I bit my lip. It wasn't fully intentional, although I guess it sort of was. I smiled at myself for doing it and he pulled me even closer to him. I was now officially pressed up against his body—his huge, rock hard, beautifully chiseled body. I knew the rise and fall of my chest was irregular, but there was nothing I could do to control my breathing under these circumstances. He smelled good, he looked amazing, and apparently he was into the idea of spending some time with me tonight—it was really an ideal scenario.
I thought back to earlier that day when I was looking through the wall and never in a million years would I have imagined winding up in his arms like this a few short hours later. It was literally a dream come true. I had dreamed and imagined him holding me like this from the very first time I saw him. I knew everything would come crashing to a halt as soon as the one-night stand was over, but I was so attracted to him that I just didn't care. Plus, Tom and Rory were both speaking plainly with me, and I was anxious to do a little more pirate recon.
I glanced up at him with what I hoped was my most irresistible face. "I think I'd like you to do without the massage tonight. Unless, of course, it's from me."
"I'm gonna kiss you now, Addie," he said. It didn't really surprise me because he had been staring at my mouth since we'd been standing there. He leaned down and put his mouth on mine in a not-so-gentle kiss that caused an instant burn inside me. I leaned upward and into him, encouraging him to continue.
He broke the kiss and looked at me with an unreadable expression, shaking his head slightly.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I'm fine," he said, nodding.
I thought he might say something about how tempting I was, but he didn't.
"The house is going to be full of people in a half hour or so. I'll need to take care of a little business with my dad and brother, but after that we can find a place where we can finish this."
He turned to head for the door, but I grabbed his arm. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"I need to take care of a few texts. Can I meet you in there in a minute?"
He hesitated, but then agreed. I wondered if he thought I might get into some of his stuff while he was out. I thought that was pos
sible since we just met, but he agreed and left me in there alone. I typed out a text to Megan right away.
Me: "OMG. I'm here. He invited me to stay a while. It's all good. No worries."
I pressed send, and heard back from her within a few seconds.
Megan: "What?!? You're staying over there? You sure you're okay? I'm worried about you."
Me: "No really, I'm fine. I think Steven was wrong. Just a regular guy. I like him."
Megan: "OMG Addison Claire Connor, are you gonna sleep with him?"
I laughed out loud that she actually typed out my birth-given name.
Me: "I might."
Megan: "Be careful."
Me: "Okay Mom."
Megan: "Have fun."
Me: "That's more like it. Not sure what time I'll be back, but don't worry about me."
The last thing I wanted was for her to get concerned and barge in to rescue me since she knew where he lived.
Megan: "You looked beautiful when you left. Be safe, have fun, and love you."
I smiled at her message, thinking how much I loved her too. I typed out a final text that told her so (with several choice emojis) and then put my phone back into the small bag that was strapped across my body. While my hand was in there, I went ahead and fished out the powder compact that I kept with me for moments just like this. I opened it, and carefully inspected my face and teeth in the teeny tiny mirror.
I took a deep, calming breath as I gathered my wits to go into the living room. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. It felt like a dream. It didn't matter that I'd just discovered him; he was at rock star status in my mind. I was crazy about him, and it was even worse now that I'd officially met him and he was better than I imagined.
I was giddy with anticipation as I made my way down the long hallway toward the living room.
Chapter 11
I heard the sound of guys' voices as I walked, but no sound of Nina or her girls. I had a whole chain of thoughts where I felt guilty for a second about what I was about to do and then I told myself this whole thing was more about spying on pirates, and that I could just take it for the team. I knew how ridiculous that was, and I was smiling at the thought when I came to the edge of the hallway where I could see the guys. All three of them looked my way when my movement caught their attention.
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