by Kimberly Fox
He grins. “All right. We’re a team.”
“A team?” I ask, rolling my eyes at him. “And is this our clubhouse?”
“It sure is,” he says, starting to look around. He drops to his knees and looks under the couch, giving me a quick view of his nice ass. I can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing his red boxer briefs.
“What are you looking for?” I ask, watching him as he looks behind a loose wooden plank. “Invisible ink to write out our clubhouse rules?”
“That’s a good idea,” he says, putting the plank back in place, “but no. I’m sure I have a bottle of alcohol stashed somewhere up here.”
I jump off the couch and start ripping up the couch cushions as he checks the other room. I could really use a drink right about now. I’m not sure what it is, but as soon as I hear my father playing his didgeridoo in public, I immediately need a strong drink.
When I yank up the last cushion, a dogeared nudie magazine falls to the floor. I laugh as I pick it up with my two fingers, holding as little of it as I can.
“Looks like alcohol is not the only thing you have stashed up here,” I say. Tyler comes back from the other room and bursts out laughing when he sees what I’m holding. My mouth waters when I see a bottle in his hand.
“That was my favorite porn mag,” he says, taking it from me. He flips through the naked pictures as he nods with a nostalgic smile on his face. “Ooooh, I remember her.”
“Are you done looking at your porn?” I ask, still eying the bottle. It’s Goldslick Vodka. Probably tastes like paint thinner, but I would happily drink paint thinner right now. I would drink anything that would drown out the sound of my father’s didgeridoo. “I need a drink.”
Tyler slips the magazine back under the couch and grabs the bottle. “Good, because I have just the thing.”
I lick my lips as I stare at it. “Are those little gold flakes floating around in there?”
“Yup. Rumor has it that they slice the inside of your throat on the way down, letting the alcohol get into your bloodstream faster to get you drunk as fast as possible.”
“Sounds stupid.”
He opens the bottle and offers it to me.
I need stupid right now.
Tyler laughs as I take a take a huge gulp until my eyes are burning and I’m coughing like crazy.
We pass the bottle around until it’s gone down a couple of inches and I’m feeling a little buzzed. I like it up here in his treehouse away from the party.
“Congratulations,” he says, smiling at me. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever brought up here.”
I turn to him in surprise. A hot guy like him should have had a line-up of girls waiting to come in here. “You never got any action up here?”
His eyes fall to where the porn magazine is hidden under the couch cushion. “Not with anyone else.”
“Remind me not to come up here with a black light,” I say, giggling.
He laughs. “I always wanted to have a girl up here.”
“I’m your wife,” I say, grinning at him. “Wives don’t count. Plus, I’m not about to break your treehouse cold streak, so don’t get any ideas. The only things that should be having sex in trees are birds and squirrels.”
“And your parents,” he says.
I burst out laughing. “My parents too.”
“It’s okay,” he says, chuckling as he takes a sip from the bottle. “I left our ball gag at home anyway.”
“What was that?” I ask, thinking back in horror at the ball gag strapped to his mouth in our lovely wedding photo. “Are you into that kind of BDSM stuff? Did we do that?”
“I don’t know what we did,” he says, handing me the bottle. Our fingers touch as he hands it over. With every pass of the Goldslick, our hands linger a little longer on each other. “I’ve never seen a ball gag in real life before.”
“Where the hell did we get that?” I try hard to remember, but I can’t. The memories from that night are gone for good. That’s probably a good thing.
He just shrugs.
“Want any more?” I ask, offering him the bottle.
He shakes his head as he clutches his stomach. “I’m good. I think I drank an ounce of gold already.”
We relax on the couch, enjoying the silence and the warm breeze wafting in through the open windows. I can hear the muted sounds of the party down below and take a breath of relief when I no longer hear my father’s didgeridoo playing. My initial relief turns to panic when I realize that the silence means he’s probably talking to people.
I close my eyes and swallow hard as I pretend that all of this isn’t happening. This is all too surreal. I slept with this guy beside me. I don’t do that kind of stuff.
One-night stands… They’re not me. At all.
But the initial embarrassment and confusion are starting to wash away with every look he gives me. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m starting to feel curiosity and yearning now.
I’m curious about what happened, how it happened, how it felt.
And I’m yearning to experience it again.
I saw this man naked, and as sexy and stylish as his suits are, I can’t help remembering what he looks like underneath that soft fitted fabric.
Lately, when I find myself staring blankly out the window and before I can get a handle on my brain, his long cock slides into my mind, penetrating my thoughts.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m tempted. But being dishonest is easier. I hate him. He’s too privileged, he’s too cocky, he’s too goddamned beautiful.
But that dick…
I’m not that kind of girl. Really, I’m not. But when a rich, sexy, beautiful man makes it crystal clear that he wants to fuck you, even the straightest of straight girls can get a little curved around the edges.
And Tyler has made that strikingly clear. If I want his big dick, it’s all mine.
I swallow hard, pushing down the naughty thoughts creeping up into my mind. I blame the Goldslick Vodka. Apparently, the gold flakes missed my throat and sliced open my horny center instead.
“We should get back down to the party,” I say. I close my eyes, regretting it the minute it slides past my lips. “They’re going to wonder where we went.”
Tyler shrugs. “Let them wonder.”
My cheeks start to heat up. “We’re newlyweds in their eyes. They’re going to think we’re…” I can’t say the dirty words in front of him.
“What?” he asks, turning to me with a grin.
“You know…”
“Playing Monopoly?” he asks with a smirk on his frustratingly sexy lips. “Yahtzee? Twister?”
“That’s closer,” I say with a chuckle.
He raises an eyebrow as he looks at me. “Naked Twister?”
I look away. I just wish he wasn’t so hot. This would all be so much easier if he didn’t look like he should be starring in the next Magic Mike movie.
He leans a little closer, and a whiff of his rich cologne has my head swimming. “I bet you would be really good at naked Twister,” he whispers in a raspy voice.
“I would be,” I say, feeling my heart jump into fifth gear. “But you’ll never find out.”
“Right hand, thigh,” he says, placing his strong hand on my thigh. Warm shivers explode through my body, sending up goosebumps on every inch of my skin. Even the soles of my feet have goosebumps from this guy.
My chest is fluttering, and my head is as light as a helium balloon, but I take a deep breath and focus. This ‘relationship’ is already as complicated as Ikea instructions. We don’t need to throw in sex to make it even worse.
“Tyler,” I warn as he inches even closer.
My body is betraying me. My legs part, wanting his hand to slide down between them. Arousal courses through my body, making this even more difficult.
I’m getting wetter with every hard breath that I take.
His eyes are locked on my lips as he leans in.
My mouth waters as my breathing stops.
He’s my husband, and I’m his wife. I have the pineapple-covered marriage certificate to prove it. I should be able to kiss my husband if I want to. Right? Right???
“Left hand, waist,” he whispers as he slides his hand over my waist, making my pussy throb.
My lips part, wanting to tell him to back off but the soft tickle of his breath on my lips has me forgetting what I want to say.
“Lips, lips,” he whispers.
I jerk my head away at the last second. As much as I want to feel his soft lips on mine, I know it’s a bad idea. We already did that once, and look where it got me.
“Right fist, nose,” I say, clenching my hand into a fist and holding it up as a warning.
He laughs it off, but he looks disappointed as he moves back from my personal space. I’m immediately struck with a strong sense of loss now that his hands are off of me.
It’s for the best, Dahlia. He’s your boss.
I take a mental cold shower, picturing abandoned puppies, port-a-potties after a weekend tournament, pink-eye, long toenails, turkey bacon.
Ah, that’s better.
This whole situation is going to take pinpoint precision to pull off. We have to pretend that we’re married in front of everyone we know, we have to get Tyler’s dad to give him the promotion, and we have to save the factory from getting shut down.
The stakes are high, the whole town of Summerland and everyone in it is on the line, and it would be just plain irresponsible to complicate things with kissing, or sex.
As tempting as it is, it’s just a mess that nobody needs right now.
“Let’s go back down,” I say, smoothing out my dress as I get up.
Tyler nods, looking disappointed as I head to the ladder.
He takes the bottle of alcohol and hides it behind the couch, probably out of habit from his teenage years. I take a quick glance at his ass as he bends over.
Bloody noses, squished cockroaches, old men eating apple sauce.
Nothing is stopping the dirty thoughts rushing forward, so I just turn away and climb down the ladder.
“Thanks for the break,” I say when we’re back on the perfectly manicured lawn. “I needed it.”
“Anytime,” he says, smiling at me. “You know where it is if you need it again. Normally there are no girls allowed, but you have boobs, so I’ll bend the clubhouse rules just for you.”
“I’m honored,” I say, smiling as my cheeks heat up. Hearing him talk about my boobs is making me blush even more than usual.
We stand there awkwardly, so many unsaid words hanging between us. “I should go check on my parents,” I say, looking back in the direction of the party. “Make sure they’re not trying to sell any of the guests some weed.”
Tyler laughs as he steps forward, sliding his hand on my lower back as we start walking. His hand feels good there, so I pretend not to notice.
“Shit,” Tyler curses under his breath when he sees his cousin Nick approaching.
Don’t stare at his eyebrows. Don’t stare at his eyebrows.
“I’m taking off, cuz,” he says, spinning an unlit cigar between his fingers. “This was cute, but I’m heading to a real party now.”
Tyler puffs out his chest as his eyes narrow on Nick. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Nick turns to me and smiles. “It was nice to meet you, Dahlia. When you come to your senses and leave this mutt, come see me.”
I try to keep my eyes on his and not on the slow-moving bushy caterpillars that he calls eyebrows crawling on his face.
“It was nice to meet you too, Nick,” I say, gritting my teeth. “And don’t worry, we’ll be sure to have a job for a cousin of Tyler’s in the company once we take it over.”
He laughs, jerking his head back in surprise. “You two take it over? That’s cute, but I think you two would be better suited to taking over your father’s tie-dye shirt empire. Leave McMillan Worldwide to me.”
Tyler steps forward, looking like he’s about to knock him out. “Don’t talk about my wife’s parents that way,” he snaps in a tight voice. Possession is thick in the way he calls me his wife.
My skin is tingling as I watch him defend my honor. I want to break them up before the fists start flying, but I also desperately want to see that happen.
Nick cracks first. “I was just kidding,” he says, laughing it off. “It’s just a little playful competition.”
“There’s nothing playful about laying off fifteen hundred and ninety-two employees,” I say, butting in.
Nick locks his eyes on me and scowls. “fifteen hundred and ninety-three,” he corrects. The threat is clear. I’ll be getting one of those pink slips if Nick gets the company.
“What was that?” Tyler rushes forward and grabs Nick by his collar, slamming him up against the tree.
A smile creeps across my face as I see Nick squirming nervously under Tyler’s heated stare.
“Tyler!” a voice snaps from behind me. I spin around with my guilty heart pounding. “Let Nicholas go!”
Tyler releases his cousin when he sees his father charging over like an angry bull with Kirsten following close behind him. He takes a deep breath as Nick chuckles, slapping his back playfully.
“Thanks for the party, Auntie Kirsten and Uncle Mack,” he says, pouring on the charm. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to the office to take care of something.”
Tyler’s parents say goodbye to Nick and then thankfully he leaves.
“What are you doing?” Mack asks his son, looking exasperated. “You’re picking a fight with family?”
I’m about to butt in and help him out when Kirsten wraps her arm around mine, pulling me back to the party. I reluctantly go as I try to listen in on their conversation.
“You have to control your temper,” Mack says, sounding disappointed. “How can I trust you to take over an international corporation if you can’t get through a family party without knocking your cousin’s head off?”
I gulp as Kirsten drags me out of earshot. If we’re going to be a team, we have to work better than what we’re doing. We have to play smart if we’re going to outplay the evil caterpillar whisperer Nick.
“We were looking everywhere for you two,” Kirsten says, squeezing my arm.
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to get back on her good side. “There were so many people, and I just got overwhelmed. Tyler took me away for a little break.”
I look back over my shoulder where Tyler and his father are having a heated conversation.
“I hope I didn’t get him into trouble,” I say, wishing I could hear what they were saying. “Nick was being a bit of a jerk, and Tyler stepped in to save me.”
Kirsten waves her hand dismissively. “Those two have been at it since they were in diapers. One day they fought over a rattle, and they haven’t stopped since.”
We continue toward the pool where the party is happening, and I look around for my parents with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Do you know where my parents are?”
Kirsten bites her bottom lip nervously. “I’m not sure…”
“Kirsten,” I say, tilting my head as I stare at her.
She looks uncomfortable as she looks around the yard. “I believe they were taking a nap in the hammock over there.”
A group of teenagers are giggling near the hammock. One of the braver guys is holding up his phone, videotaping my parents doing I-don’t-want-to-know-what.
“I’m sorry about them,” I say, feeling my neck get hot with embarrassment. “They shouldn’t be allowed out in public.”
Kirsten wraps her arm around me and pulls me into her. “They may be a little rough around the edges,” she says with a warm smile.
“They’re like broken glass around the edges,” I say, laughing.
“But they brought you into the world,” she says, smiling at me, “so I’m eternally grateful to them.”
I drop my eyes to the grass as a thickness settles in my throat.
�
�I’ve never seen my son so taken with a girl,” she says, grinning at me. “You’re the first girl he’s ever introduced us to.”
My heart flutters at her words. If this was real, it would be a huge compliment, but it’s not real. None of this is real. I have to remember that no matter how real it feels.
“I’m so happy you’re part of our family now,” she says with her eyes sparkling. It’s so genuine and real that the guilt weighing down on me feels heavier than ever. “I’ve always wanted a daughter, and I can already tell that we’re going to be really close.”
I cringe as she pulls me in for a warm hug.
I’m the worst person alive.
11
Dahlia
“Thank you for the party,” I say, smiling at Kirsten when the last of the guests finally leave. “It was wonderful. I’m really tired and am just going to head back to my hotel for the night.”
Tyler’s mother shakes her head so hard that I’m worried it’s going to fly off. “No, you’re not.”
“I’m not?”
“You’re family now,” she says, looking dizzy. “You’re staying over.”
I glance up at Tyler who’s standing next to me. He just shrugs.
I guess I’m staying over.
My parents are still in the hammock—I can hear their snoring from here—so I guess I should stay and keep an eye on them. I have to make sure they don’t go skinny dipping in my new in-laws’ pool in the morning.
Kirsten brings us into the house and shows us to a guest room that she set up.
“Mom!” Tyler shouts, looking around in disbelief when he steps into the room. If there was a camera set up in the corner, it would look exactly like the set of a soft-core porn movie. There are lit candles on every available surface, a bottle of lube on the nightstand, and an R. Kelly mix-tape playing softly over the speakers.
I’m guessing Mrs. McMillan wants grandchildren.
Badly.
Thankfully, Tyler doesn’t want to give her any. “Mom, can you be a little more subtle?” he asks, staring at her in disbelief.
“I want grandkids!” she whines. “I want sticky fingers and cute tiny toes and grandma kisses and little scraped knees that I can put adorable little band-aids on. I want to relive the magic that only a toddler can bring.”