The Naughty List

by Jodi Redford

  But of course. Fate would have it no other way than to sandwich her between Ry and Bram when her emotions were running at an all-time low. They wedged in beside her, bombarding her with their nearness and the overwhelming allure of their presence. She struggled not to breathe in the dizzying maleness they exuded. Tried not to imagine their hands and mouths trekking across every inch of her skin.

  A brief silence descended on the table, the only sound the scratching of Jamie’s crayon as she drew a detailed depiction of Santa popping a wheelie on a bicycle. Eliza was busy digging around in her bag, hence her uncharacteristic muteness. Finally Charlie cleared his throat. “Carolyn would have liked this place.”

  Even without looking in Ry’s direction, she sensed his surprise. It wasn’t like Charlie to mention his wife during the holidays. Usually it was too painful for him.

  “She always loved the lake, you know,” Charlie continued. The wobble in his voice was barely discernable. Another first. “We were going to use our retirement savings to go on a cruise. One of those two-week Mediterranean trips. It was all she could talk about.”

  Eliza set her purse aside and squeezed Charlie’s wrinkled hand. “You should still go on that cruise. Carolyn would have wanted you to.”

  “Yeah, that she would.” Charlie’s eyes filled with tears. “Maybe I should do it. Life’s too short to regret the things we let slip us by because it hurts too much to let go of the past.”

  His words settled with a heavy ache in the pit of her belly. Ry’s and Bram’s fingers brushed hers under the table. She could hear their silent pleas loud and clear.

  Oh God. She couldn’t do this. Gulping down the bitter remorse clogging her esophagus, she shoved back her seat and rushed from the table. She reached the ladies’ room just as Ry’s and Bram’s arms tugged her into their embrace. Panicked desperation clawing within her, she pushed away from them. “Please, just let me go.”

  “Lace, that’s impossible. We’re in this for the long haul, don’t you see that?”

  “Don’t do this to me. It’s not fair.”

  Ry’s palm smoothed along her cheekbone. “You know what’s not fair? Running away because you’re too afraid of getting hurt again. Charlie’s right. At some point, you have to let go of the past, baby.”

  “Why can’t you understand I’m doing what’s best for all of us? You both deserve to get married. Have a family.”

  “What the hell do you think the three of us are?” Ry demanded.

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Fuck that. It’s the only one that matters to me. Matters to Bram.” The conviction in Ry’s fierce gaze brought tears to her eyes.

  Because she knew he was fooling himself, she said, “This conversation is done with. Please, don’t make it any worse.” Before either of them could stop her, she rushed inside the bathroom. Emotionally drained, she slumped against the tiled wall and cried.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Feeling like a sluggish zombie, Ry swiped the razorblade through the shaving cream lathered on his jaw. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his own gaze. No doubt the hollowness there matched the emptiness residing in his chest.

  His life was a fucking mess, and he didn’t know what the hell to do to turn everything around. To make it right again.

  No, strike that. He knew what he wanted, what he needed to feel whole again. But the one woman who completed him refused to give up her fears.

  She’d said she loved him—something he’d dreamt of hearing his entire goddamned life. It was a bittersweet revelation.

  He flicked on the faucet and rinsed the last traces of foam from his face before washing out the basin. The task was a mindless one, requiring minimal energy on his part. Fortunate, since he felt completely dead inside.

  He yanked on his jeans and a crewneck. Combed his hair. By the time he was finished going through the motions, the coffeemaker spat out the last of its cycle. He poured a cup and took a gulp, not really registering its taste. The hot liquid settled in his gut in an unpleasant way. He dumped the remainder down the drain and scooped his keys from the counter. During the elevator ride down to the main level of his condo complex, he stared at the flickering fluorescent bulb overhead that the maintenance staff kept forgetting to replace.

  Why the hell did he continue to live in this damn place? He didn’t even particularly like it.

  His thoughts returned to Bram’s suggestion of them all moving into his house. A fresh ache pierced his heart. He couldn’t imagine a future that didn’t include Lacey. Didn’t include Bram.

  He’d never felt this fucking alone. Not even when he’d run away as a kid and struggled to survive on his own. The streets might have toughened him, prepared him for life, but they’d never prepared him for this. To the rest of the world, he might still resemble the self-assured guy he struggled at portraying, but inside he was a mushy mess, pining for a woman and a life he would never have.

  His motions listless, he cleared the light dusting of snow from the headlights of his truck before making the drive into work. The fortunate part about handling the afternoon shift was missing morning rush-hour traffic on Jefferson Avenue. Even that bit of good luck did nothing to lift his spirits. He pulled into his parking spot in front of the Dockside and killed the engine. Pocketing his keys, he made his way inside the restaurant.

  A few of the regulars up at the bar called out greetings. Pasting on a smile, he shot a brief wave in their direction and crossed to his and Bram’s office. He peeled off his coat and tossed it onto his chair. The door snicked open and he turned. His gaze locked with Lacey’s startled one.

  “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize…” Swallowing, she dropped her focus to the floor. Refusing to look at him, she hurried toward Bram’s desk.

  He stared at her while she dug through the small pile of invoices. It’d been five fucking days since she’d slammed the restroom door on him and Bram and left them reeling.

  God, she was ripping his heart out. “We need to talk.”

  She glanced up at him, her expression wary. “I’m kind of busy right now.” She gestured toward the invoice in her hand.

  “That wasn’t a request.”

  Her lips rolled into a tight line, but surprisingly she nodded. He zeroed in on her mouth, wanting with every fiber in his being to tug her into his arms and kiss some sense into her. If they were anywhere else but here, he would have. But he knew he was treading on perilous ice as it was. One false step and it’d crack right out from under him.

  His life was in enough turmoil. He didn’t need to sink it further. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

  Her mouth trembled. “You see me every day.”

  “It’s not the same. Do you know how hard it is to be this close to you and feel like you’re miles away?”

  “Would it be easier if I was?”

  His stomach pitched, threatening to send up the coffee he’d choked down earlier. “What are you saying?”

  “M-maybe it would be better for all of us if I sold my share of the Dockside.”

  It took two angry steps to reach her. Once he did, he gripped her shoulders, resisting the urge to shake her. “Don’t talk fucking stupid shit like that to me, goddamn it.”

  She gulped. “I didn’t mention it to make you mad, but I don’t want this to end up something that could hurt the business. I wouldn’t do that to you and Bram.”

  “No, you’ll just stomp on our fucking hearts, that’s all.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes. “I asked you not to make this worse than it already is.”

  “It’s too late for that, baby. You and Bram, you’re the two things in this world that have kept me going. Given me a reason to believe that my life is worth a shit.” He eased his grip on her, but the tremor in his hands didn’t lessen. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t love you. I used to think it was impossible for me to feel any more miserable, knowing I couldn’t tell you what was inside my heart. But that doesn’t begin to compare with what I’m going through
now.”

  He let go of her and plowed his fingers through his hair. “Hell, maybe you’re the smart one. Locking out any chance of love and running in the opposite direction. Maybe if I’d done that, I wouldn’t be slowly dying inside.” Despite his best efforts to control it, his voice broke on the tail end of his statement. Worried he was seconds away from completely unmanning himself, he pivoted and strode from the office just as Bram stepped out of the stockroom carrying reels of receipt paper for the registers.

  Bram halted, his expression worried. “What’s going on?”

  “She suggested selling her share of the business.”

  Bram’s focus veered to the closed office door. “What?”

  His mouth twisted with bitterness. “My words exactly. I told her there’s no fucking way we’re going along with that.”

  “Maybe I should talk to her.”

  “It won’t do a damn bit of good,” he bit out flatly. “She’s never coming around.”

  He figured Bram’s stricken features were a mirror of his own. He felt like the world’s hugest bastard killing Bram’s last hope, but it was a necessary evil.

  They both needed to face the facts. Lacey might love them, but she was too afraid to ever allow them access to her heart.

  Pain cramping her chest, Lacey stared at the door Ry had vacated only seconds before. She had the odd sensation that although she was standing in Ry and Bram’s office, she might as well be a universe away from the comfortable world she used to know.

  Charlie’s words echoed with harsh recrimination inside her head. Life’s too short to regret the things we let slip us by because it hurts too much to let go of the past.

  Oh God. What the hell was she doing? Everything she’d ever wanted was outside that door. She’d sustained herself with the fantasy of Ry and Bram through the toughest time in her life, and now she was too afraid to go after the real thing?

  Ry was right. She was a coward. The awful shame of it sat like a boulder in her stomach.

  They’d been there for her. Always. And she was hurting them in a way that was worse than the betrayal she’d gone through with Dan.

  Her heart squeezed and tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked. If there was one thing she’d come to realize, it was that running didn’t do a damn bit of good. These past several days of barely surviving more than proved that fallacy.

  So what the hell are you waiting for, you idiot?

  A desperate sob hiccupping from her throat, she rushed toward the door. Those six steps felt like the longest of her life. She twisted the knob, banging her hip on it in her haste to open the door. Ignoring the burst of pain, she stumbled out into the bar area, looking around frantically.

  She spotted Ry and Bram at the register installing receipt tape for George. Other than the four of them and the handful of customers situated at the bar and the neighboring booths, the room was relatively empty. Elvis was crooning about a blue Christmas on the restaurant’s speakers. How fitting. She cleared her throat, praying it’d be heard over the music. It must have worked because every eye turned on her, including Ry’s and Bram’s. Their faces looked haggard. Resigned.

  She’d done that to them. Time to make things right. “You’re wrong. It’s not better to lock yourself away from love.” She stepped forward, her knees shaky. “I’m tired of being afraid.”

  Ry stared at her, a fraction of the dark clouds lifting from his eyes. “So what are you saying?”

  She took a deep breath, expelled it slowly. “That I love you guys, and I want to make our relationship work.”

  George’s jaw dropped and speculative whispers cropped up from a few of the nearby diners. Oh yeah, they were going to have a field day with this one. Oh well. Might as well make it extra juicy for them. “My house is too small for the three of us. Much better to move into Bram’s.” A twinge of uncertainty shuttled through her. “That’s if the offer is still open.”

  Ry and Bram practically leapt over the bar in their haste to reach her. Bram got to her first. He swung her into his arms and planted a hungry kiss on her that pretty much cleared up anyone’s doubts regarding which direction their relationship swung. Bram pulled back, his expression joyous. “It’s definitely still open. In fact, I think we should go get you packed right now.”

  She gave a sniffly chuckle. “We can wait until tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Ry cupped the back of her head, his eyes flashing a tender fierceness. “Promise?”

  She nodded. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly. “We’ll make this work. We’re the three amigos. Together, we can conquer anything.” His voice held undeniable conviction.

  “I love you both. So much.” She stroked Ry’s and Bram’s faces, the emotion inside her chest no longer terrifying, but freeing.

  “Hearing that is the best Christmas present you could have ever given me, baby.”

  “Me too, Lace.”

  She gave them both hopeful smiles. “So does this mean I’m saved from having to sing naked karaoke?”

  Ry and Bram glanced at each other, their expressions thoughtful. After a silent debate they both pressed their mouths to her ears and whispered, “Not a chance.”

  She feigned a sigh. Really, she couldn’t complain. When it came to helping a girl mark off her naughty list and teaching her to love again, her boys had been more than accommodating. Besides, she had every intention of making sure they performed their own naked karaoke.

  Hey, fair was only fair.

  About the Author

  At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.

  She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.

  When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.

  Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.

  She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at jodiredford@jodiredford.com and visit her online at www.jodiredford.com.

  Look for these titles by Jodi Redford

  Now Available:

  Taking Liberty

  Light My Fire

  Vanessa Unveiled

  That Old Black Magic

  That Voodoo You Do

  The Seven Year Witch

  Maximum Witch

  Thieves of Aurion

  Lover Enslaved

  Who says getting eaten by a shark is a bad thing?

  Maximum Witch

  © 2011 Jodi Redford

  That Old Black Magic, Book 3

  Willa Jameson is having one whopper of an identity crisis. Odd memory flashes that aren’t hers. A sultry voice in her head that’s obsessed with sex. Even weirder, she finds herself in the jaws of a rogue leviathan, dragged to the bottom of the ocean—and rescued by a hunky…shark?

  The last thing Sheriff Max Truitt expects to find on his daily, deep-Atlantic patrol is a human—especially one who breathes underwater. Compelled to take her home, he waits for the beauty to wake up and reveal her name. Instead he’s treated to a punch in the nose, then a sexy romp hot enough to boil water.

  The next morning, embarrassed by the sizzling, scandalous things the voice in her head drove her to do, Willa slips away. But if there’s one thing a determined shark excels at, it’s tracking his favorite meal.

  Solving the mystery that is Willa is no simple task. When they finally unlock a dangerous secret hidden deep in her subconscious, it drives a wedge between them…and puts them in a desperate race against an evil that seeks to rain down a watery Armageddon on all mankind.

  Warning: This book does not contain sex with a puffer fish. There’s not even sex with a seahorse. However, there’s plenty of smok
ing-hot lovin’ with a shark. And even a steamy M/F/M threesome. So slap on your snorkels and swim fins, things are about to get wet and wild.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Maximum Witch:

  She watched Max stride to the pick-up window and collect their sack of food and beverages, her trepidation coiling like a tight spring. Her life was slowly unraveling around her, and she didn’t know how to stop it. How to make things normal again.

  It seemed incomprehensible that a little over a week ago none of this had been an issue. Her head had been blessedly void of seductive voices whispering things she didn’t understand. Sure, her job had been stressful as always, but she could handle all of that stuff. It was this total lack of control that was driving her closer and closer to permanent residency in the local loony bin. At first she’d assumed it was a form of early life crisis. Her thirtieth birthday was less than three days away. Not exactly life altering, but the date also marked the anniversary of her parents’ death. More than ever, she felt the fragility of life and how easily it could all be ripped away. It also drove home one indisputable truth—she was more alone than ever.

  Max pivoted in her direction, and her heart gave an odd squeeze. He represented hope, the promise of a future that didn’t have to be solitary. But how could she trust her thoughts when they weren’t her own? How could she drag Max into this craziness when she didn’t even want to be there? The best, kindest thing she could do at this point would be to walk away from him and never look back.

  Too bad her feet seemed to be cemented in place. Forcing a pained smile, she scooted over on the bench, making room for Max. He sat next to her and handed over her lemonade before fishing her sandwich from the bag. Accepting the package from him, she crumpled back one side of the waxed paper and sank her teeth into the rye and pastrami, a happy groan leaking free. As he’d done last night, Max watched her with unabashed appreciation. She licked the corner of her lip, catching the tangy essence from the dressing. His eyes darkened.