They're Strictly Friends (Tough Love Spinoff Book 1)

by Chloe Liese

  “Feeling’s mutual.” Picking up my folders and laptop, I unlocked the door.

  “But, just so you know, Lucas, if you threaten me by withholding orgasm again”—she smiled tartly, shoving the papers in her arms—“next time, I’ll settle for taking care of myself and telling you to fuck off.”

  Pierce opened the door right as she cursed. The poor bloke nearly swallowed his tongue, glancing nervously between the two of us.

  I leaned against the door, smiling genially at him. “Morning, Pierce. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  He shifted, hugging his laptop to his chest like a shield as he eyed Elodie carefully. “Is it?”

  “No,” Elodie huffed, shoving past him, “it most certainly is not.”

  “Christ.” He shuddered. “She really is terrifying.”

  Elodie thundered down the hall and rounded into the meeting room.

  Pierce’s papers popped out. I handed them over and took him by the elbow to follow Elodie’s path. “Come on, then.”

  Pierce glanced at me, perplexed. “If you don’t mind my asking, why ever do you do it, mate? Wouldn’t you rather a nice, quiet sort of bird? Smiles and keeps her talons in? What was that one who used to come round back in your footie days—Sophia or some such?”

  I shook my head, opening the door to the meeting room and waving him ahead of me. “You really should have more literature, Pierce. Your scope for the female protagonist is woefully lacking.”

  Pierce looked at me oddly as he dropped into his seat and fixed his tie. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  Sitting, I leaned back in my chair as I watched Elodie circle the room, distributing papers. I cleared my throat, recalling Petruchio’s vow to woo and win Kate in The Taming of the Shrew. Elodie finished her circuit, slamming the printouts in front of me, and dropped into her chair.

  “I am as peremptory as she proud-minded,” I quoted. “And where two raging fires meet together they do consume the thing that feeds their fury.”

  Pierce shook his head. “You lost me.”

  “I’ll break it down for you, then. It’s about the necessity for equally strong dispositions in relationships, Pierce. Petruchio’s imperious; Kate’s stubborn. Shakespeare’s saying they’re compatible. An overbearing man with a wallflower; a hellion with a pushover—what fun is that, right? They must both of them be strong in equal, albeit perhaps different, ways. And yet, their intensity must also be tempered.

  “Which is why Petruchio then says, Though little fire grows great with little wind, yet extreme gusts will blow out fire and all. Meaning, too much of his high-handedness, too great a stubbornness in Kate, will render a relationship impossible. They must tame themselves for each other. The play might be titled The Taming of the Shrew, but it’s ironic. Petruchio’s as brought to heel by Kate as she is by him, if not more so.”

  I reached slowly under the table, taking Elodie’s hand in mine. “So I to her and so she yields to me; for I am rough and woo not like a babe.”

  “Indeed,” Elodie mumbled.

  Pierce just looked at me blankly while half the room watched in amusement and the other half did the sensible thing—ignored me and talked among themselves.

  “It’s Shakespeare, Pierce, the bloody literary god of our country. Have you no national pride?” I squeezed Elodie’s hand and released it, because I knew when others were around she worried affectionate gestures like that would make them think I gave her preferential treatment.

  Elodie underlined something in her notes and spoke without breaking from her task. “You have to know at least some Shakespeare, Pierce. Everyone does.”

  He snorted. “I doubt that highly. Never cared much for the stuff.”

  She tapped her pen as she thought. “Surely there’s something he’s written that’s more your speed.” Elodie smiled as one came to her. “It’s all Greek to me.”

  Pierce guffawed. “That’s a good one for sure.”

  “Well, there you are,” she said. “You do have a little Shakespeare at your command.”

  Pierce frowned as he flipped open the handout. “What are you talking about?”

  Elodie scrunched her face. “That’s Shakespeare. Julius Cesar to be exact. I was pointing out that you actually do know some Shakespeare, you’re just ignorant of the fact. He’s the father of many English idioms.”

  “No.” Pierce shook his head. “That’s definitely David Brent in The Office.”

  Elodie opened her mouth, vexation written on her face, and like Petruchio, I recognized the signs of fire in my Kate. Clasping her hand again under the table, I called for order and garnered the eyes of all. “Let’s get this meeting underway, shall we?”

  “Lay on MacDuff!” Pierce called, winking over at Elodie. “And don’t you dare tell me that’s Shakespeare too.”

  Twenty-Four

  Elodie

  London on the cusp of December is not for the faint of heart. The sky grows oppressively gray, and every venture outside earns you a slap from the wind. I shivered in the cab that drove me to Nairne’s, worried about Lucas, cold to my bones and unsettled. The air felt ominous, and when raindrops started splattering on the windshield, I couldn’t help but feel like my apprehension was confirmed.

  The cab slowed in front of Nairne and Zed’s place, a beautiful Georgian home that, much like Lucas’s, looked forever welcoming and warm. I burst out of the car and ran quickly to their front door, knocking twice before I used my key to enter. I was pretty sure Nairne was home, not in the lab today, but I hadn’t heard from her when I texted. I struggled to retain not only all of Lucas’s life’s details in my brain but hers as well, so I might have been completely off.

  “Allô?” I called, shrugging off my long camel wool coat, a birthday present from Loulou.

  “For this coming bitter season,” he’d said with a kiss to my temple. That had felt ominous, too.

  “Nairne?” I slipped off my heels and dropped my purse.

  “Yes, in here, El. What a surprise!” Nairne’s warm voice, smoky like cigarettes she’d never touched, made me smile.

  “I messaged, but I’m assuming your mobile’s not on you.”

  Nairne swore. “Zed will have my head. He’s such a worrywart still. Ah, here it is, in between the sofa cushions. Only three missed messages and one thinly veiled threat if I don’t respond.”

  I laughed. Zed worried for Nairne, but it wasn’t for undue reason. They’d been through a season of intense upheaval that had endangered both of them. His caution was one of the many ways he loved and protected her, and as her dearest friend, who naturally worried over her too, I had no complaints.

  A rolling string of baby babble greeted me. Jamie sat in Nairne’s lap, chewing ferociously on the little giraffe I’d bought him. French rolled quickly off my tongue as I dropped onto the sofa, leaning to kiss Nairne’s cheek in greeting and bending so I caught Jamie’s wide green eyes, a replica of his mother’s.

  “Hello, my little love,” I said in French. “I have missed you, yes I have! What do you have there? Your favorite giraffe from your favorite aunt? Hm?”

  Nairne laughed, following my French easily while she handed him to me. He was seven months now, so he was getting heavier, and his bum was ridiculously large with his cloth nappy. He bounced his legs up and down on me and squealed, like he always did, happy and high. He seemed to be trying to mimic the pitch and cadence of my voice, and it made both of us laugh even more.

  “Nairne, he is so wonderful. I feel like a whole new part of me wakes up when I’m with him.” Jamie bounced repeatedly, pushing off with his little socked feet. Then he leaned toward me and wiggled his eyebrows, widening his eyes and babbling quickly.

  “He really does love you, Elodie. He doesn’t talk like this for most people.” Sighing, Nairne leaned back against the sofa and watched us contentedly. “He’s getting so big, it’s breaking my heart. Crawling almost did me in, but this talk, all these expressions, and he tries to use utensils at dinner…” She shook her
head. “It’s too much.”

  Nairne looked truly heartbroken as I glanced over at her. “Ma belle, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine. It must be the oddest mixture of joy and sadness when he reaches milestones. When I think about if…” I swallowed the rest of my thought. Where had talking about our little baby come from? Perhaps he or she filled my thoughts more than I realized. I couldn’t help but keep track of how far along I’d be by now, and so perhaps it made sense I’d think of the baby when I was around Nairne and Jamie. I’d be starting to show, narrowing down names, picking out nursery items.

  I cleared my throat. “I can only imagine,” I whispered.

  “One day you’ll know, Elodie.” Nairne set her cool hand softly on my back. “I’m confident.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to dispel the lump that had formed there. “Yes, well, it would be lovely! We’ll see. I’m back on the pill for the time being.”

  “For your PCOS?”

  I nodded and kissed Jamie on his fat baby cheek. “The physician thought it wise to give my body a few months to recover.” I gave Jamie a raspberry to his neck and earned his squawk of delight. He grabbed my face back and sort of kissed me too, sucking ferociously on my nose and making me giggle like a girl. “Thank you, Jamie, but you must stop, mon petit. You’ll ruin me for my man at home with those kisses.” I laughed, handing him back to Nairne and standing up, smoothing the front of my dress.

  Nairne gently set Jamie on the floor, where he quickly crawled to a basket of toys nearby. She transferred down to the floor and crawled steadily behind him so she wouldn’t lose track of him. “Speaking of your man, how is he?”

  “Oh, not very well, I’m afraid. I can tell a bit more of his peripheral vision’s going but of course he won’t talk about it. No, he just insists on smacking his head on cabinets and slamming his side into the doorway.” I smoothed back my hair and shrugged. “I told him I think he should go talk to someone, preferably with experience in exactly this. He agreed with me, but sort of look like he'd sucked on a lemon when he did.”

  Nairne nodded. “That’s hard, Elodie. Not only does he have to begin learning adaptive living, but he has to unpack all the feelings he has about it. It’s like making yourself wade into water you’ve been told you won’t have to step into for years.”

  “Yes, but I’m not so sure he has years, and I don’t think Lucas is sure either. If he doesn’t gradually acclimate himself, care for himself emotionally, I think it’s going to be devastating.”

  Nairne looked thoughtful as she tugged Jamie back from wandering into the dining room by his nappy. He started fussing, so she picked him up and brought him to her chest to nurse. “You’re right. And I’ve told him myself the same thing. Logically, the sooner he starts, the better his transition will be. But since our conversation on my birthday, I’ve been thinking about it. Emotionally…we can’t forget this means asking Lucas to deeply feel and live in this reality. Maybe he’s just not there yet.”

  I sat on the arm of the sofa. “I know.”

  Nairne chuckled to herself as she smoothed her fingers over Jamie’s fluffy black hair. “Look at us. Me talking feelings and you being pragmatic.”

  I stretched my neck side to side, trying to dispel the tension that crept in whenever I thought about this, which was often. “I’m focused on the tangibles, because they’re all I have control over. Keeping him safe, protecting him. The intangibles, his moods and emotions…” I sighed. “Those lately feel out of reach.”

  Jamie’s soft nursing sounds filled the quiet that descended. Nairne frowned pensively, like she was turning over this problem, examining its hundreds of facets with her scientific eye. She glanced over at me, sadness filling her gaze. “He’ll be okay, one day. I do believe that. But, perhaps part of why Lucas doesn’t want to dive headlong into learning how to live with sight loss and all its accompanying feelings, is because he doesn’t know how to do it in front of you. What lies ahead is lots of struggle and he’s human after all—we each of us have our pride. It might be daunting to contemplate laying before you what feels very vulnerable to him. Of course Lucas is also particularly stiff upper lip.”

  “But, Nairne, he relies on me already. Why can’t he see I don’t mind? I’m behind him.”

  “Relies on you how?”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes he doesn’t see things, so I show him. Or I’ll help him dodge an object. Little things.”

  Nairne frowned. “He can’t rely on you like that forever. It’s one thing for you to guide him officially if that’s what he wants, but he needs his independence, Elodie, trust me.”

  “I know! I want his independence for him too, but I also want to be there for him while he learns it. I love him, that’s what you do for someone you love, non?”

  “Elodie,” Nairne said carefully. “I think you need to exercise caution here. There’s a fine line between loving someone and enabling them.”

  I couldn’t admit how unsure I was about which I was doing more of these days. “Well, we’ll take it one day at a time. I should get going. I need to get back to Farthington. Lucas and I are actually having a lunch outside the office. During busy season.”

  “Is it a full moon?” she asked dryly. Nairne was a scientist but she was sensible enough to know Quarter Four was hell for anyone in finance.

  “That’s what I asked, but apparently not. He just wants to taste his food and look me in the eye for an hour. I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “Ooh, fancy idiom, Ms. Bertrand. Twenty for Hufflepuff, easily.”

  I curtsied primly. “Thank you.” Then I gave both her and Jamie a kiss and hug goodbye.

  “You’re not driving are you?” Nairne called as I started to back into the foyer. “If so, I want to watch the news when the police chase starts.”

  “Ha-ha,” I called, slipping back into my Louboutins and pulling on my coat. I stopped when I remembered why I’d wanted to stop by in the first place. I kicked off my shoes and started briskly up the stairs. “Nairne, I forgot something when Lucas and I stayed over last weekend— I’m going to run up to the guest floor and get it.”

  “All right, Elodie.” She sounded distracted, perhaps once again in that odd fugue state she fell into while nursing.

  Consumed with random thoughts on babies and mothering, I headed straight for the guest room Lucas and I had used the past weekend when we came for their Thanksgiving feast. Some odd American holiday, but I actually liked stuffing and cranberry sauce, so I hadn’t minded one bit. I’d had too much to drink, and Lucas couldn’t see for shit at night, so driving home was out of the question, and we’d stayed over. When I’d fallen into bed more than a little tipsy, Lucas had peeled off my clothes, then produced a pair of erotic leather handcuffs, clipped my wrists tightly to the wrought iron bedframe and had to slap a hand over my mouth to stifle my screams of ecstasy when he—

  “Oh my God!” I’d just walked into a wall of solid, tattooed torso. Warm, rough hands braced my shoulders, and I stumbled out of them.

  “Sorry about that,” a low American voice said. “You okay?”

  I was completely dazed as to what was happening. I hadn’t managed to look at the man’s face yet because those muscles…real people didn’t have muscles like that. I gaped at him, my mouth searching for words as I tried not to stare resolutely at the area where a towel was slung very, very low on his hips.

  “Um, I, um…” I stared at the ground and shook my head.

  “Looking for these?” The leather handcuffs clinked quietly and entered my line of sight, dangling off of one long, tan finger.

  “I…Yes, thank you.”

  Finally I looked up. Hazel eyes. Dark lashes. Zed’s younger brother, Teo looked the same and yet somehow different from the last time I saw him. I blushed, Teo smirked, and I snatched the handcuffs out of his hands, running smack into the door before whipping it open and running down the hallway.

  I tripped down the stairs while adrenaline pumped through my body. “Nai
rne!” I cried, sounding like a tattling child, “there’s a six foot something, heavily tattooed version of Zed upstairs, and he’s perilously close to being naked!”

  Nairne glanced up, realization dawning on her face. “Oh, bloody hell, Elodie. I completely forgot to tell you. I’m so sorry!”

  I breathed heavily, trying to steady myself as I shoved the handcuffs into my bag, not before Nairne noticed them of course with a wicked grin.

  “It’s all right, Nairne, I just—”

  “Teo!” she shouted, holding up a finger to ask me to wait.

  “What?” he yelled back down, and it sounded disconcertingly like Zed. Maybe half a step lower in his voice, but if I didn’t know Zed so well, I’d swear it was him.

  “Put on some bloody trousers, would you? There are innocent people who frequent this home, and none of them need to be exposed to your propensity for nudity.”

  “I’m sorry,” he called, sarcasm dripping from his voice which grew louder as he approached the landing. “I didn’t know I needed to walk around in my own room with my pants on.”

  “That’s my room,” I hissed indignantly.

  “Not anymore,” he quipped, landing with a thud at the foot of the steps. Thankfully he now wore a pair of jeans and a Juventus shirt. Unfortunate choice of club, but I kept that to myself. He shook his head to the side to knock out water, and ran a hand through dark, wavy, shoulder-length hair. “Teo’s in the house, indefinitely.”

  He grinned wide, his face such a fascinatingly slight departure from Zed’s. His eyes were keen and warm, his face a bit more angular than Zed’s, but they were still so much alike.

  I gaped over at Nairne. “Since when?”

  “Since he called and asked if he could take a break from living with his father,” she answered, “before he did himself harm.”

  “You and Brando don’t get along?” Stepping back into my shoes, I hoisted my purse onto my shoulder. “He’s the sweetest man ever.”

  Teo scowled. “Yeah, live with him for a few months and tell me how sweet he is then.”