by Piper Rayne
“Ms. Crowley, so nice to see you again.” He bows down. “Good evening, ladies. May I suggest a bottle of Chardonnay?”
Hannah shoots him a tight smile. “Not tonight.” She looks from one side of the table at Chelsea to the other at me. “Three Vespers.”
He tries not to act surprised, but I see the emotion register on his features for a split second. “I’ll be right back.”
As we wait for the waiter to fetch our drinks, I soak up the rich atmosphere. The room is filled with mostly men, men in suits. Men like Reed. Probably lawyers or some other equally untrustworthy profession where they take advantage and rip people off. Married men probably come here to unwind, leaving their wives alone. Whoa, Earth to Victoria.
The waiter brings over our Vespers and we’re each a vision of poised sophistication as we slowly bring the glass to our lips and swallow a small sip, when what I really want is to pour it down my throat I’m so thirsty. Not to mention the buzz will help tremendously to push away all thoughts of He-who-shall-not-be-named.
“You know I have to ask. How did you get in here?” Chelsea leans forward.
“Family. My dad’s been a member since he was of age and his father before him. It’s changed hands a few times, but what doesn’t change is that money speaks.”
One thing I admire about Hannah is that for all her class and grace, she doesn’t come off like she thinks she’s better than you and doesn’t look down on people who aren’t in her tax bracket, but at the same time she keeps it real. I wonder if she was always that way or if her divorce changed her? Divorces have a way of changing everyone.
“Nice. Man, to be you.” Chelsea brings her glass to her lips with a small shake of her head.
Hannah doesn’t say anything and sometimes I think Chelsea needs reality glasses because she believes she wants things without truly knowing what that will bring her in her life. She wants a bad boy with a heart of gold, but hearts of gold don’t mean they’ll respect her. She wants Hannah’s life, but I’m fairly sure Hannah went through hell in her divorce. My mom welcomed me with open arms after my divorce, but I’m not sure her family did.
Hannah’s hand suddenly comes down between Chelsea and I on the table with a hard smack. I grab my glass before it tips over. “I can’t believe they’re letting that piece of shit in here.”
Chelsea and I follow her gaze to a table in the front-right corner. A man in a sharp suit fit to perfection and salt and pepper hair sits with two other men. He seems to be doing the majority of the talking in their threesome, the other two men nodding their heads like he’s their professor lecturing.
“Which one?” Chelsea asks. “The gray-haired one?”
“I’m not sure I’d call it gray,” I say. “It’s more that sexy, distinguished shade.”
I’m not sure what Chelsea sees but if Hannah’s looking for a guy who can map out a woman’s erogenous zones, that’s him. He stands, still talking to the men. They laugh and it’s clear it’s not forced, that whatever he said was truly funny. Turning around he walks to the bar, slides his empty glass to the bartender and orders another one.
Our eyes remain glued to him with varying degrees of emotion. I’m intrigued because I’m not sure I’d ever consider a guy with salt and pepper hair at my age, but I’m sure he’d teach me a thing or two with five minutes in the stall of the women’s room. A quick glance across the table and I see that Chelsea’s eyes are narrowed like she’s trying to figure something out. Hannah’s are on fire, as if she could incinerate him on the spot.
He taps his fingers on the bar to the rhythm of the soft music coming through the speakers. The expensive silver watch adorned on his wrist jiggles lightly with the movement. Just as I’m about to examine the rest of him, his head turns in our direction and his gaze sweeps over us and then doubles back. The guy cocks an arrogant smile and strolls around the bar to our table.
“Shit, we’ve been spotted,” Chelsea murmurs. We both put our heads in our drinks while Hannah, well, Hannah keeps her punishing eyes on him.
“He’s coming over,” I whisper like I’m thirteen and the hot mystery guy at the mall is approaching.
The scent of his expensive cologne hits my nose as he reaches the end of our table. “I must not have done a good enough job if you can still afford this place.” He’s speaking directly to Hannah, looking straight ahead at her as if Chelsea and I don’t exist.
“I thought they had standards at this place.” Hannah slowly looks him over and I give her credit, she doesn’t pause or stutter, and manages to keep a look of disgust on her face.
He rocks back on a laugh, his tongue slowly sliding over his lips. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Crowley. Snarky as always.” There’s an air to his tone. Playful and flirtatious and it makes it hard not to stare up at him in adoration. This man isn’t just a panty melter he’s a panty incinerator.
“Sorry, I can’t say the same.” Hannah brings the glass to her lips, sipping it and letting her fingers run up and down the stem.
My gaze shifts across the table to Chelsea who seems just as enthralled in their banter as I am.
“Oh, come on. I had a job to do, surely you understand that.”
Her fingers continually slide up and down the glass stem, her eyes fixated on him. “If I wasn’t with my employees I’d have a few choice words for you.”
“Don’t let us stop you,” Chelsea spits out and then instantly looks chagrined. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” she whispers to me.
“Listen to the girl. Don’t hold back. That is, as long as you can handle the same in return.” Without invitation, he sits next to Chelsea and her blue eyes widen in my direction as she slides closer to Hannah at the back of the booth. We’re like two scared kids whose parents are going at it.
My phone rings in my purse and all heads turn my way.
“I’m sorry.” I fumble to find the phone.
Meanwhile, Hannah leans forward and unleashes a string of curse words and name calling but I could never put them all together. By the time I silence my phone, seeing it’s my jackass of an ex, Hannah’s leaned back in her seat, legs crossed, sipping her drink as though everything is normal.
My gaze shoots to the man who’s still wearing the cocky smirk he’s had on since he arrived at the table. “Let me buy you ladies the next round. After all, I get paid pretty well when I win.” He winks at Hannah and she narrows her eyes to slits but says nothing.
He stands and saunters away as if he wasn’t just told to stuff it in a room full of people.
“Go after him and give him a piece of your mind,” Chelsea says. “What an asshole.”
Hannah’s gaze stays on him at the bar. We watch him point to us, the bartender’s attention turning our way.
“He’s not worth it,” Hannah says, back to her collected self.
“From the heat that just filled this entire booth, I’m not sure about that,” I say. “Who is he?”
Hannah’s eyes don’t leave his. “Roarke Baldwin. My ex’s divorce attorney.”
Chapter Eleven
“There they are!” Jade jumps up and down in front of Navy Pier when Reed steps out of the Uber.
He must have stock in Uber. Has he never heard of public transportation?
Jade makes the first move and runs over to Henry, talking a mile a minute about the movie we’re going to see, while Reed waits patiently, his gaze flickering my way every other second or so. He fist bumps Jade and ushers the kids away from the side of the road toward the entrance.
“Happy Saturday,” he says, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets to show he’s not stepping over any boundaries. He looks good in his casual wear—a white Henley with a jacket over top and worn jeans.
“Hey,” I say. “Cute.”
He chuckles his usual amusement that ignites my stomach flipping. “I thought so.”
“Let’s go.” Jade tugs at my arm. “I don’t want to be late.”
“I think she’s spoken.” He nods
to the glass doors that lead into Navy Pier.
Trying to keep the kids to the Imax theater without getting distracted is more of a struggle than I’d anticipated. I drag Jade away from a colored sand booth and Reed steers Henry away from a place selling fidget spinners. We usher them past popcorn stands and ice cream parlors, though both of those sound good right now. My stomach rumbles from the multitude of scents wafting out of the different restaurants as we make our way down the long pier.
“I think we should go on the Ferris wheel after the movie,” Reed says as we pass a picture of it.
“Yeah!” Jade exclaims, eyeing me to see if she’ll be allowed.
I hate that look. Usually, I don’t say no when we’re places like this. We do everything and anything because she’s young and I know the deal, soon she won’t want me anywhere near her. I’ve had a boulder in my stomach ever since this morning when she asked me if I was really okay with going and if I didn’t want to be with Reed, then we didn’t have to go. She’s so intuitive. Break my heart, why don’t you.
“Sounds fun.” I smile down at my daughter and remember that she only got one call this week from her dad. One. She deserves some fun.
“Really?” Reed says. “I thought I’d have to work a little harder for it.”
“We’re here, aren’t we? Might as well make the most of it.”
I know he’s staring at me as we continue the walk to the theater, but I force myself not to look back at him.
We arrive at the theater and Reed handles the tickets, after which we head to the concession stand to order our popcorn, candy, and drinks. We each hand our cards to the young girl behind the register at the same time and she looks uncertain as her eyes flicker from his credit card to mine.
“Take mine. I’m the man,” Reed says, and the girl’s shoulder rises in agreement, plucking it from his grip.
“Um, you being the man does not mean you pay.”
“It does when I tricked you into coming.” He winks and that, as well as the word coming rolling off his tongue, makes it feel as if hot lava has replaced the blood in my veins. If it weren’t for that, I would’ve had a snappy comeback.
Was I blind at my wedding eight years ago? Did I ignore the pull between us, or was I so hung up on Pete I didn’t notice other men?
He signs the receipt, shoves his wallet in his back pocket and we catch up to the kids who are going over the movie posters along the wall.
“Icees?” Jade’s eyes light up. She takes the cup Reed’s offering her and then hugs me.
“Tell me you’re not one of those moms?” Reed asks, handing me my own cup.
“What kind of mom is that?” I fill up my cup with diet soda because I’m a hypocrite of a mother.
“The kind who prohibits their kids from eating foods with red dye or at Halloween says you can have one piece of candy and then the rest we give away.” He fills his own cup and I hand him a straw.
“No.”
“Good.”
“I let her have five pieces.”
He looks over to find me smiling. Being a Big Brother doesn’t really grant him access to judge. I’d like to see him get a small child to bed after an unlimited amount of candy on Halloween and then tell me his stance on the subject. I might not stop Jade from consuming Red 40, but I had acquaintances in L.A. who did, and it’s scary how differently they behave.
“You probably make her brush her teeth and floss before bed.”
“I truly am a monster of a mother. I mean, saving her from cavities and hyperactivity? Someone arrest me.”
He laughs, and we follow the two little ones to the theater. “Where do you stand on vegetables?”
“Every meal and I duct tape her to the chair until she finishes every broccoli floret.”
“Jeez, I won’t even ask about desserts,” he jokes.
His chest presses on my back as he leans forward to pull the door open for all of us.
“Row E, seats thirteen through sixteen.” His attention is on the kids, while mine is on him. For the first time, I can’t help but imagine if he was mine. Is this what it would be like? When we were alone could I press my lips to his soft pink ones? The thought has an ache building between my thighs.
The kids rush in through the second door, but I’m frozen in place and he seems to be too, his eyes losing their usual carefree sparkle. Now, his eyelids are hooded and he’s so close to me I can see the darker blue flecks in his irises. I lick my lips.
“Excuse me,” a man’s voice says behind us.
I blink and the moment between us disappears. “So sorry,” I say and bow my head, walking through the doorway.
We don’t speak as I walk up the stairs to the row where Henry and Jade are already putting all their snacks out and taking off their shoes on the recliners.
“This isn’t home,” I tell Jade, but she just smiles, tucking her shoes under the flip out leg part of the chair.
They’re sitting in the far two seats. They look so comfortable and the last thing I want is to uproot all Henry’s snacks, just so I don’t have to sit by Reed.
“I’ll have to thank Henry later,” Reed mumbles, sitting down next to me.
“Armrest stays down.”
He holds the popcorn bowl in his teeth as he holds up both hands.
“You do know teeth aren’t tools, right?”
After his jacket is off, he holds the popcorn in his lap. “Thanks, Mom.”
I pretend to narrow my eyes even though I’m really telling him that because every time he holds something with his teeth, I imagine my panties between those same teeth as he drags them down my legs.
The lights darken.
“It’s about to start,” Jade coos and her and Henry slide back in their seats and quiet down.
“I’ve never wanted to punch a guy in the face before as much as I did that man for interrupting us,” he whispers into my ear.
A jolt of arousal hits its mark in my core. I turn my head and his glittering eyes hold mine in the darkness. Those sparkling blues light up with the same lust coursing through my body as the screen flickers from light to dark.
One kiss, Victoria. It won’t hurt anyone. Just one.
“Mom,” Jade tugs on my sleeve.
I swivel my head her way and she’s got half the bowl of popcorn emptied onto her lap.
I help her pick up as much as we can but by the time she’s once again ready to watch the movie, I don’t have the nerve to look back at Reed.
For the rest of the movie, I’m hyper-aware of the energy Reed’s emitting to my right. He’s alive and oh so tempting next to me. From the corner of my eye, I notice his hands. How he only picks up each kernel with three fingers. How his strong thighs flex under his dark jeans when he shifts in his seat. Though my body would love to pull up that armrest and nuzzle into his strong chest, I force myself to lean on the armrest closer to Jade.
Reed Warner might have the sex appeal of Magic Mike, but he doesn’t know what he’d be getting himself into. Besides, I refuse to listen to my heart or my sex drive anymore.
Chapter Twelve
“I forgot to tell you. I scored a car for the carnival at the kids’ school.” Reed and I walk along Navy Pier after the movie, Jade and Henry in front of us, pointing and gawking at all the big boats.
I cringe. “You did? How much was it?”
“It’s covered.”
I shake my head. “No way. Let me pay. It was my idea.”
“Not necessary. I know a guy.”
“You know a guy?” I look over at him with an eyebrow raised.
He shrugs, but his eyes tell me he’s full of shit. We reach the end of the pier and the kids stare out at the boats on Lake Michigan.
“I get everything else then. The eye protection, the sledgehammers—”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “You’re going to buy the sledgehammers by yourself?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I turn to face him.
“Because they weigh a shit-ton.�
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“I’m stronger than I look,” I say with mock confidence. Inside I’m wondering exactly how much sledgehammers really do weigh.
Reed nods, though I’m not sure he’s really buying it, and pulls his phone out of his coat pocket.
Pictures.
“Jade and Henry, look over here.” He snaps a few pics of their smiling faces. “Go stand by the kids,” he says to me, still holding the phone out in front of him.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Nope.”
His arms drop a few inches. “You don’t want me to have a photo of you?”
I shake my head. “No, that’s not it.”
That’s totally it though.
He shrugs and stuffs the phone back in his pocket. “We need to go down to the county to get approval plus we should talk to the principal at St. Pats. I figure we should do it together.”
“You already did all that research?” I step over to a nearby bench facing the lake and take a seat. The cold metal on my backside and the cool breeze coming off the lake remind me that summer is still a ways away.
Reed follows me over and sits down beside me with only a few inches separating us. “Well...”
“You paid someone,” I finish for him.
He doesn’t look over at me. “I have assistants. They like to take care of things.”
I shake my head in mock disappointment, though I guess I’m not really surprised. I’m sure he’s a busy guy. “Are you going to have your assistants order your future wife flowers for your anniversary?” My joke doesn’t hold the humor I thought it would when it leaves my lips.
He shifts to face me on the bench, no amusement to be found in his perfect features. “Never. Is that what Pete did to you?”
“No. Pete didn’t buy me flowers.” My gaze finds the pigeons flying around, I feign interest—anything to let me break the connection with Reed. I’m ruining a beautiful day with my baggage, slicing it to pieces with the knife still lodged in my back from my ex-husband’s betrayal.