"Ad?"
I look at where his hand is perched in the air, holding the wine bottle. "Do you want more?"
I nod. "Sure, why not?"
He pours another quarter glass for me before he does the same for himself. "Where did you wander off to? You had a faraway look in your eyes."
I don't want to talk about his past sexual escapades in the heart of New York City, so I opt for something neutral. "Has your family always owned this house?"
"For as long as I can remember." His jaw tightens. I've become versed in the various ways Crew reacts when I bring up his family.
The only one I've ever seen him interact with is his younger sister, Lark. They're close. His two brothers and parents fall outside his inner circle, although he does see Kade for lunch at least a couple of times a month. I know that from Kade's confessional during our dinner.
He didn't go into too much detail about the inner workings of the dysfunctional Benton clan. He was cryptic about what had happened that pushed Crew to work at Matiz instead of at Benton Holdings, the family business.
I questioned Crew about it once, but he shot me a look that had enough force behind it to make my head spin.
"Do you want to go sit on the deck? We can listen to the ocean," he says huskily.
That's a tactile way to shut down a conversation he doesn’t want to have about his family. I don't push because talking about mine isn't on the top of my to-do list either.
I stand in response, but not before he does. He pulls back the dining room chair and offers his hand. I take it because there's no reason why I can't touch him the way I always have.
My body would win an argument against that. The energy that flows between us when our skin meets is electric. I don't pull back though. I have to learn how to handle this if we're going to have any chance of salvaging our friendship.
"I'm glad you came up here, Ad." He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear the way he always does. It feels anything but ordinary tonight.
I'm not sure if I'm glad I made the trip yet. We're four hours in and we still have three nights and just as many days to get through. I need to make it out of this house with my heart in one piece and my friendship with him still intact.
"Take me to hear the ocean, Crew."
"Your wish is my command." He wraps my hand around his forearm and leads me to a set of glass double doors near the back of the kitchen.
When he opens them, the salty evening air, the sound of the ocean and his touch make me feel like I'm exactly where I need to be.
***
Last night went just as I thought it would. Crew and I sat on the deck outside and listened to the ocean before he had a call that tore him away. He hustled into the kitchen, closing the glass doors behind him and as I watched his hand fist around the edge of the granite countertop, I knew that it was time for me to call it a night.
When I walked into the house he pushed his phone against his chest to shutter our voices from whoever he'd been talking to. With a quick goodnight and an empty smile, he headed to the opposite side of the house where I assume he's still asleep.
A sliver of unfiltered light crept through a crack where the dark, heavy curtains in my room meet. It was enough to wake me from a full night's sleep. I haven't had that in months, maybe longer, and when I stretched out on the King size bed and listened carefully, the only things I could hear were birds chirping and the ocean.
Coffee was what I craved so I went into the kitchen and used the French press and roasted beans to make myself a cup. A bowl of fresh berries and a scone were all I needed to enjoy a breakfast in solace on the deck off the kitchen.
Bill wasn't kidding when he said this place is the opposite of the city.
I'm in the main room now, looking over the selection of books that line the shelves that frame the fireplace. There are novels here that my mom would love to read. I take two pictures with my phone, so I can show her the next time I see her. Sending her any images from here would only result in a deluge of questions that I don't want to answer.
"Don't tell me that you've already had breakfast."
I turn to where Crew is standing at the open door to the deck. He's only wearing white board shorts. His entire body is peppered with moisture, his hair wet and stuck to the sides of his face.
The man is breathtaking.
"Fruit and coffee." I shrug with a smile. "Were you swimming?"
"There's no gym here." He pads across the hardwood floor with his bare feet. "I hit the pool to do a few laps. A few turned into more."
I admire his drive to push his body to its limits constantly. My work-outs are restricted to the time I spend on the sidewalks of Manhattan walking my way to a fatter wallet. Transportation isn't cheap in the city and my legs are more than capable of getting me from point A to point B the majority of the time.
He scoops up a large white towel that was strung over the back of one of the chairs near the bookcase. I watch as he dabs it against his chest before rubbing it briskly over his hair. When he's done he looks even more devilishly handsome than he did when he first walked in.
"I have a conference call in fifteen minutes."
I should be surprised since it's Saturday, but I know that he's picked up the slack for Nolan since he married Ellie. Every Matiz location is open for business today which means Crew is the man to call if something doesn’t go right. Delegation is not his strong suit.
"I think I'll sit on the deck and read." I point to the elaborate display of books. "These are real, right? They're not just covers set there to impress."
He huffs out a hearty laugh. "My mom would drop dead if she heard you asking that. Many of those books are first editions signed by the author."
I want to ask what the hell they're doing out here in nowhere land instead of in a glass case in the apartment his parents live in, but I just smile. I don't understand wealth. I've never had it and from where I'm standing it might offer an easier life in terms of worry, but it comes with the burden of expectation and stress. I have enough of that on my own small scale. Adding more money than I will ever need to that equation isn't appealing in the least to me.
"I'll take you down to the beach once I'm done." He reaches to scratch his knee, his bicep flexing with the motion.
Why did I think this weekend was a good idea?
I don't know if he's trying to tempt me, but regardless it's working. I vowed I'd stick by my decision to keep things platonic between us, but he's not making it any easier.
"Good luck with that call," I say trying to keep my eyes on his face.
He knows I'm struggling. I see that in his soft smile and the cock of one of his dark brows. "Good luck with concentrating on your book, Adley."
Ass.
I try to look away when he turns to go back into the other wing of the house. I can't resist. He's gorgeous from every angle.
I'm less than twenty-four hours in and my inner strength is about to wave a white flag of surrender. I pick the first book my hand lands on and I head out to the deck with a mind full of dirty thoughts and an ache between my legs.
Chapter 22
Crew
Payback. That's what this is.
At least Ad could mask her arousal when she saw me this morning after my swim. I knew I got to her. Her nipples pebbled into high peaks under the pink dress she was wearing. She used the age-old tactic of crossing her arms over her chest to keep me from noticing. It didn't work.
I don't have the luxury of hiding my bulging erection. I'm wearing navy blue shorts and nothing else. It's still more than what Adley has on.
All that is covering her body is a red string bikini that looks like someone painted it on with precision. I may know what's underneath it now but I haven't got my first taste yet, and my cock is eager.
"You look happy to see me," she calls from where she's resting in a lounge chair near the heated pool. "You're smiling."
Little mynx.
"Not as happy as you are to see me." I sl
ide my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to peek over them at her bikini top.
"It's breezy out today," she lies.
It's hot as hell. The blustery weather from last week was a prelude to blue skies and a rising thermometer. I wouldn't have given a shit if we were forced to wear parkas on this trip. I wanted her alone and I got my wish. The bikini is a very welcome bonus.
She's coming around. That wall of protection she built around herself in my apartment the night we kissed is slowly breaking apart.
Patience is the key when it comes to Adley. That's one of the lessons I've learned since I met her.
Another is that she doesn't have a lot of close friends.
She treasures the ones she does and I'm on that list. Risking what we have scares the hell out of her. Truth be told, it scares me too.
"Did you take care of business?" she asks with her eyes closed.
"For now." I take a seat on the lounger next to her, impatience causing my shoulders to tighten. I want to ask her when we'll talk about what happened in my apartment, but she's relaxing at the moment; something that's been in short supply in her life in recent months.
She works herself to the bone for a salary that she can barely live on. She used to talk incessantly about going back to school to become a veterinarian but I've noticed in recent months that it's not a subject she willingly brings up. If someone else does, she seamlessly navigates the discussion in another direction.
I've asked her point blank if she's still interested in being Dr. York, she assures me she is.
"Why do you work so much?" She looks over at me. "You're super rich. Isn't there a point where enough is enough?"
It's never been about the money to me. My drive to succeed has a lot more to do with ego than it does wealth. I never wanted the silver spoon in my mouth. I spit it out as soon as I was able to; branching out on my own to build a life that wasn't bound to my family.
Unfortunately, I still own a stake in their business. If it weren't for my mom, I would have sold it for pennies on the dollar years ago just to free myself of the burden of the twice yearly board meetings and back-and-forth bitterness between shareholders.
"I like the work," I admit as I drop my sunglasses on the small circular table between our loungers. "It's an adrenaline rush for me."
That answer doesn’t satisfy her. Her brow furrows. "Don't you have enough excitement in your life outside of work? You don't have to chase the high by spending ninety percent of your time juggling the five hundred different businesses you run."
I laugh. "There's not nearly that many, Ad. I'm not a fucking robot."
"I know. Robots don't have hearts." She rests her hand in the middle of her chest between those two beautiful round globes of flesh I want to sink my teeth into.
"You think I have a heart?" I ask because it's a gateway to the discussion I've been ready to have since she walked through the door yesterday.
She looks down before her head turns toward the ocean. "You said you'd take me to the water when you were done with your call. That was five hours ago."
The subtle dig about my time spent on the crisis at the Matiz boutique in Los Angeles isn't lost on me. I had no intention of spending that much time in the office I set up in Lark's old bedroom. I made over thirty calls trying to track down a shipment that had gone astray.
Customers were waiting in line at the boutique this morning anticipating a new lipstick and nail color combo. The manager didn't think to reach out to report that the shipment was M.I.A. until she unlocked the door of the store this morning.
I could have easily handed off the matter to someone at head office in New York to deal with but I welcomed the distraction. Spending time with Adley while we're not actively discussing where our relationship stands is becoming harder and harder for me to do.
"Do you think I have a heart, Ad?"
She swings her legs over the side of the lounger, so she's sitting and facing me directly. "Of course you have a heart."
I stare at her body remembering what it looked like on my sofa, lush and curvy; her skin smooth and creamy. "I know the last few days have been hell for you. They have been for me too."
Tilting her head, she studies my face. "What do you want, Crew?"
To strip you bare and fuck you until every cell in your body craves my touch.
"You know what I want, Ad." I stretch my legs, crossing them at the ankles. "I want you."
"You want to fuck me." It's not a question because we're beyond that. Nothing has changed for me since I kissed her. The driving need to be inside of her never lessens.
"Very badly."
Her eyelashes flutter as she drops her gaze. "If we did that, nothing between us would ever be the same again."
She's right. It would be impossible to go back to being just friends, but I'm well beyond that point already. I left my platonic feelings for her behind months ago.
"Is that such a bad thing?" I ask honestly. "We're adults, Ad. We can have sex and see where it goes from there."
"I know where it will go," she challenges, her hands fisting together in her lap. "We both know where it will go."
"Enlighten me." I stare at her. "Tell me where it will go."
"To hell." She stands suddenly, her hands darting to her hips. "Do you remember Gretel Gallant?"
"Who?" I run through names in my mind, trying to place that one.
"Gretel Gallant," she repeats slowly.
It's familiar but I can't place it. Guessing would only insult Adley more. Apparently, this Gretel woman is someone from my past. "Who is she?"
"A woman you fucked in a photo booth in a restaurant in Times Square."
I drop my gaze to my lap. Fuck my fucking past.
"What about Christy Marcus?"
I close my eyes before I shake my head.
"You fingered her to orgasm on a subway train before you took her to your place. I got to hear all about that while I was cleaning vomit off her dog early one morning last year."
My head pops up. "How the fuck did my name come up during that?"
"You did it the night before she came into the clinic." She rolls her eyes. "How many black-haired, big-dicked men named Crew do you think finger women on the D-train on a nightly basis?"
How many women tell a veterinary assistant about their sex life?
"I can't erase my past." I look up at her face. There's a level of emotion in her eyes I've never seen before. "Don't punish me for that."
"I'm not punishing you." She moves to sit next to me, her outer thigh brushing mine. "I didn't bring up those women to throw them in your face."
"Why bring them up at all?" Uneasy, I draw in a deep breath. I don't know why I'm so surprised that she's heard about my encounters with other women. I've fucked women who sought me out based on what a friend told them about me. I didn't care what brought them to me. All I cared about was getting off.
Her hand reaches for mine and I greedily welcome the touch. I cup both my hands around hers as I rest them on my thigh.
"I want you to remember my name." Her voice is even and steady; a direct contradiction to the emotion in her eyes. They're filled with a mixture of confusion and despair. "A year from now, or five or ten, I want to be able to call you up and ask you to hang out. If we sleep together, I'm going to lose that. I don't know if either of us can handle life without the other anymore."
Fuck her and her common sense.
She's right, except she's not considering one possibility.
"Ad." I turn to the side so I can face her directly. I could drown in this woman. I want to. "It's not just about the fuck for me. There's more."
Her brows rise as she leans forward a touch. "More?"
"Yes," I say with a crack in my voice. I don't do this. I don't sit and discuss my feelings with anyone. I keep it all in, driving through my day with the ruthless force of a bull on a mission to crush everything in its path. Numb is how I want to feel twenty-four, seven. It's how I've always felt yet right n
ow I want to tell her I'm feeling things I can't comprehend. They scare the hell out of me and make me feel safe at the same time.
"You're going to say that you'd never hurt me." She leans her head against my shoulder. "I know you wouldn't, Crew. You're one of the only people in my life that I know will protect me at all costs. That's another reason why we can't sleep together. I need you. I'm always going to need you."
My chest tightens with those words. They're brutally honest and a plea for me to back the fuck off so I can be the man she needs me to be.
Sacrifice isn't something I know, but I'll learn for her. I'll do it because losing her is a worse fate than never fucking her.
I need to stop tearing her up like this. I'll find a way to manage the need.
I inhale sharply. "You ready to check out the ocean, Ad?"
Her delicate hand flies to my chin, tilting it so I'm looking into her blue eyes. "We're good, right? You and I, we're okay?"
"We're good." I slide her hand to my lips and kiss her palm lightly, closing my eyes to chase away the thought that I'm never going to have more. Somehow, I have to accept that being this woman's friend is enough.
Chapter 23
Adley
I wasn't going to do it. I had no intention of pushing back on Crew that way until I started reading that damn novel I picked up from the bookshelf.
The main character was named Christy. That took me right back to that morning in the clinic when the beautiful tall black-haired woman had walked through the door with a puppy that had eaten its weight in mini bagels.
While I tended to her dog, she felt the need to explain why she wasn't at her place to watch over the dog while it was feasting on her intended breakfast. Crew's name popped up somewhere in the middle of her story about being on the subway. They'd just met. She draped her trench coat over her lap and his finger got busy on her magic button.
I didn't bring it up with him then, because it didn't matter to me. I was never oblivious to what went on his life even though he's always been oblivious to what's happened in mine.
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