by Cassi Carver
“You can’t just throw that out there and then leave me hanging.”
She stepped back and poised her hands on her hips. “Oh come on. You know way more about me than I do about you. Look, I think I can do this on one hand.” She ticked off the items on her fingers. “You’re from New York. Your parents are divorced. You were raised by your dad. Your sister went to live with your mom. And Aunt Lina used to make you and Sara chocolate chip cookies.”
He stepped forward and kissed her head, then turned to scrub the egg pan. “Not chocolate chip. They were sugar cookies with chocolate sprinkles. Really, Sommers. Pay attention.”
She wound up the wet dishtowel and smacked his ass. His stiffening posture told her that, yes, he could feel it through his jeans. “No, I’m serious. What do you do when you’re not online with me? Do you have any friends?”
“Of course I have friends. My best friend’s name is Ben, and when I’m not at work or hanging out with you, I usually try to go do something with him. It seems like we’re always getting stuck at stuffy work events, but, you know…sometimes we’ll go see a movie or…whatever.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We went to high school together, and sometimes he would come home on breaks with me. His family traveled a lot.”
“Come home on breaks? Did you go to a boarding school?”
“For a while.” He turned to snag the towel from her and used it to dry the pan. “Jeez, I’m starving. Are you hungry? Seeing as I am an epic fail as a chef, I think I’m going to have to take you to breakfast.”
Either he was done talking about his past or he was really, truly hungry. Either way, she let it go. Who was she to judge him? “You are not an epic fail. Actually, I’d think you were too perfect if you could pull off a meal like that. Now I know you’re as culinarily stunted as I am, and it makes me feel better as a human being. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He rolled his eyes and scanned the mess he’d made. Ingredients were everywhere. Lemon juice. Worcestershire. Canadian bacon. English muffins. “But what a waste.”
She hugged him from behind, just needing to feel him near. “Not a waste. All we need is a few more eggs. I bet we can do this if we work together—and search for a recipe on the Internet.”
“I don’t think this is supposed to have chunks.” He flashed her the butter-and-yolk bowl and then began to scoop the lumpy hollandaise sauce into the trash. “We’ll need more butter, too.”
A melody began to play behind her and she turned to see Kyle’s phone next to his wallet on the counter. She leaned over and saw the name Ashford on the caller ID. “It says Ashford,” she told him. “Do you want to answer it?”
“No!” he almost shouted, still wrestling with the greasy sauce dish. He was scooping the remnants out with a paper towel and his hands were covered in buttery slime. “Shit…”
“What’s the matter?” She let the call go to voice mail.
“Nothing. I think I was supposed to heat the butter up before adding the eggs. We’ll try that next time.”
He washed his hands, and Rayna waited until he was done to ask, “Why is Ashford calling you?”
Yeah, that was nosy, maybe, but that call was a little strange. They were one of the largest companies in America. Was he past due on his Ashford credit card or something?
Kyle’s posture went tense. He dried his hands with the dishtowel, working the fabric between every finger. “I…uh…work for them. That’s who I work for.”
She leaned a hip against the counter. “Seriously? Doing what?”
“Ah…this and that.”
This and that. Here and there. Why was he being so cagey? “I take it from that look that you’re either (a) a janitor who wears a suit to impress women, (b) higher up than you told me or (c) a hit man for Kenton Ashford.”
She thought the last part would get a chuckle, but Kyle’s laugh was little more than air forced out of his diaphragm through clenched teeth. “B,” he answered.
She paused, taking a moment to think. “So…you’re some sort of executive at Ashford?”
Judging by what she could see of his apartment on their cyberdates, even if Kyle made a great living as an Ashford executive, he wasn’t spending it fixing up his place. Maybe he sank his salary into stock options, planning for the future. “Why didn’t you want me to know this? That’s pretty basic stuff, right?”
When the phone rang again, she was about to tell him he’d better answer it if he valued his job, but it was a woman’s name. “Sara Castillo,” she repeated.
Cousin Sara? Rayna and Kyle had talked almost every day for the past three months and she’d never heard of the woman until this morning. Of course, this was the first real morning she’d ever spent with Kyle. She figured normal people who’d dated for a few months would know each other’s friends. They might even have gone out on double dates together. Sure, Kyle lived on the opposite side of the country, but was it normal that most of what she knew about Kyle’s social life she’d learned in the last few minutes?
Kyle growled and set the towel down. “I have to get this call. I’m so sorry.”
He picked up his cell and wandered into the living room, but as small as her place was, there was no illusion of privacy. “Yes?” he answered flatly.
Rayna comforted herself with the fact that if Lina’s daughter had ever been Kyle’s girlfriend or lover she must be an ex now. No sane man would use that detached tone on a significant other and expect her to stick around.
“Yeah, I saw the call.” He paused, listening. “Let him know I’ll call back in a few minutes, please.” Another pause. “I’m staying with Rayna. Yes, Sara, Bratty is going to be fine.”
If Rayna listened carefully, she could hear the rise and fall of a young woman’s voice, but she couldn’t make out any words. Another pause, and Kyle said, “I’ll probably be staying a few days. Cancel everything for Monday, all right?” He glanced at Rayna out of the corner of his eye. “And Tuesday. Uh-huh… Okay, I’ll tell her. Thanks again. Bye.”
Rayna cocked her head, raised her brows and waited.
“Sara told me to tell you that she’s ‘sending up good thoughts for Bratty’,” Kyle said, but Rayna just stared back at him. “She’s my personal assistant.”
“Really?” Sara was new to Rayna, but at least Kyle didn’t seem to be keeping Rayna a secret from the other woman.
“Yeah. She was two years behind me at Harvard, and she’s as sharp as a tack. I couldn’t ask for a better assistant.”
“So it’s not weird with you two working together? You said she’s almost like a cousin.”
“Nah. Work is work, and Sara’s never been the real dramatic or emotional type. We don’t have trouble keeping family issues and work separate.”
“And…is everything okay at work?”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
“Okay.” She didn’t believe him for a minute.
He came to her and squeezed her tight. “I’m going out for the eggs and butter. I’ll be back soon. Do you want to come along?”
Crap. She did want to go, because she knew he was about to call his boss, and something told her it would be interesting. But Kyle knew as well as she did that she wasn’t going all the way to the market. Not even to eavesdrop. “I thought I’d try tube-feeding Bratty while you’re gone. That way we can focus all of our energy on breakfast.”
His gaze ran the length of the cluttered countertops. “Good idea. We’ll need all the focus we can get.”
Chapter Eight
Kyle wasn’t in the best mood as he stalked down the street toward the market and dialed his old man. Kenton Ashford answered after three rings. “Why in the hell did you take the Gulfstream to Santa Barbara? You left yesterday without even notifying the security team.”
“Good morning to you too, Dad.” The elder Ashford hated being called Dad. He was Father at home and Kenton in the office. “And I took the Gulfstream because I was in a hur
ry and wanted to leave you with the Boeing in case you needed something bigger.”
“I don’t give a damn about which plane you took. What I want is an explanation for your erratic behavior, Kyle. You had the executive team in an uproar yesterday. Apparently, you received a phone call and walked out in the middle of a meeting, and now they think there’s an emergency you’re not telling them about.”
Kyle’s shoes scuffed against the sidewalk. “No. There’s no emergency. But I should tell you that I’m going forward with my plans to restructure Orien Publishing, regardless of what the executive team thinks.”
“What has gotten into you? Does this have to do with that girl?” His tone was an even mix between accusing and disgusted.
“It has everything to do with ‘that girl’. Her name is Rayna, by the way.”
“Oh, Kyle…” Kenton’s voice sounded genuinely sad. “What are you getting yourself into?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I like a girl. I’m spending time with her. That’s the normal way of things, isn’t it?”
“Kyle, wake up! I didn’t raise you to be a fool. She only wants you for your money.”
Kyle stood in front of the market, but decided to walk around to the side alley. There was no way he was going to have this conversation standing in front of the dairy section. “That’s not true. She doesn’t even know who I am.”
“Oh, she knows.” Kenton laughed, and it sounded like dusty air from an old bellows. “Pretending not to know is the oldest trick in the book. Don’t be an idiot.”
“You don’t know a fucking thing about Rayna besides her first name. She doesn’t read tabloids or scour the Ashford company bios for intel. She doesn’t know the first thing about my money and she likes me anyway. I know it must stun you that someone actually could.”
He was sure his cursing would have his dad slamming down his phone, but the man surprised Kyle by moderating his voice instead. “I wish what you were saying was possible, son, but billions change people. I’ve lived long enough to see how the world works and I’ll tell you this—I can count the sum total of women I trust on one finger.”
“I can trust Rayna.”
A pause. “You sound serious about this girl.”
“Serious as the zeros in your bank account.”
“I was serious about your mother once, Kyle.”
Kyle pushed a hand through his hair and leaned back against the red brick wall of the market. “Oh please, no. Not another Mom story.”
“You’re twenty-nine years old. How long do I have to keep protecting you from the truth?”
Kyle pushed away from the wall. “What are you talking about?”
“Patricia divorced me and got her money and never looked back. She never wanted you, Kyle. She never loved you. You were a means to an end.”
He’d heard something similar before, but it still felt like a red-hot poker to his gut. “This old story again? Next you’re going to remind me that she took Carolyn with her but left me behind. Correct me if I’m wrong, Dad, but aren’t parents supposed to convince kids they’re loved—not convince them they aren’t and never have been?”
His father thought his younger sister, Carolyn, was the result of an affair. Even after the paternity results had confirmed that Care was indeed an Ashford, Kenton had made it known that millions could easily buy a rigged test. As for Carolyn, if she’d ever needed a father’s love and support it would be now, in the thick of a hellish marriage to a man who’d been one of Ashford’s youngest and most promising CFOs.
If Carolyn thought marrying the asshole would somehow win her father’s approval, she was wrong. Kyle was fortunate in that he’d realized long ago that nothing he did would ever be good enough for his father. Maybe if Carolyn stopped trying so hard she could finally find a bit of that same freedom.
“Where do you think your mother got her nest egg?”
“What?” Kyle paced up and down the alley. He had to keep moving. “Grandma and Grandpa Chesterfield aren’t exactly poor. And Patricia sued your ass, so I suppose after that she was set.”
“Yes…that’s true,” his father replied.
Kyle slowed. Kenton didn’t give in often, and with the low pitch of his voice, Kyle wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what came next.
“She sold you to me, Kyle. She said I could keep you—with sole custody, uncontested—for forty-five million dollars. I thought I’d found a life partner, a loving wife, but all I’d married was a scam artist. Patricia planned on blackmailing me for money once she produced my offspring.”
Kyle sat heavily on the dirty asphalt of the alley. “You’re lying.”
“I’m afraid I’m not. When I visited Carolyn in the hospital nursery and saw that blond hair and those washed-out green eyes, I knew instantly that she was no child of mine. I had Patricia investigated and discovered she’d tried a similar scheme with the man before me, but he left her when she miscarried. I wouldn’t shell out a dime for Carolyn, obviously, so Patricia kept her in order to add child support payments to her already substantial alimony.”
“I—” Kyle tried to speak, but it was just a whisper of sound.
“Don’t take it so hard, son. Forty-five million was a lot of money back then. We’re talking almost thirty years ago.”
He thought Kyle was upset that he hadn’t gotten a higher bid? “Why are you doing this to me? Do you hate me this much?”
“Kyle…” Kenton’s voice took on a different tone, as warm as the man knew how to be. “I tell you this to explain some hard truths. If my first wife—your own mother—could be corrupted by money, who is immune? Even if by some miracle this woman you met doesn’t know who you are, if you pursue this…relationship, or whatever it is, you will have to tell her eventually. And when you do, things will change. They have to. Even if she can get over the billionaire title, she can’t understand the responsibility that comes with a legacy like that.
“One day, you’re going to marry, and you’ll need someone who’s not wowed by numbers but who has the class and the breeding to be your partner, someone who grew up like you did and can truly understand you. Would it even be fair to drag your…” He paused. “What’s her name?”
“Rayna.” The word barely escaped his dry, cotton-filled mouth.
“Yes, Rayna. Would it be fair to drag Rayna into a lifestyle for which she must be completely unprepared?”
Kyle blinked and ran a hand over his eyes. “I gotta go.”
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I know reality hurts. It’s taken a bite out of me a few times in my life too. I’m just trying to protect you, because I…because you’re the Ashford legacy. It’s all on you, son.”
Had his dad been about to say he loved him? Did he stop because he knew the lie would be too easy to see through? “Okay. I gotta go.”
He swiped his finger over the screen and ended the call. After, he wasn’t sure for how long, he simply sat on his ass in the alley and wept like a fucking baby.
His own mother didn’t love him. She’d never acted like she had, but he’d told himself that she simply wasn’t an affectionate woman. Now he knew the truth, and it left a hollowed-out place in his soul.
But then maybe he truly was an empty shell of a human being, like a scarecrow stuffed with thousand-dollar bills until he resembled the shape of a man.
Rayna wore blended mash up to her elbows by the time Kyle knocked on the front door. Bratty was covered; she was covered. She peeped through the hole and opened the door—her amused smile fading when she saw Kyle’s bloodshot eyes. “What happened to you?”
She moved to let him pass. It looked like he’d not only found eggs and butter, but two additional overflowing bags of groceries. No wonder he’d been gone so long.
He glanced at Bratty tucked under her arm, and then his gaze took in the sliminess of Rayna’s hands and arms. “What happened to you?”
“I asked first.”
He shrugged and set the bags on the counter. “Some crap blew into my eyes. I
went into the market’s restroom and rinsed them. I think I got it all out.”
“Oh, Kyle…” She stepped closer to inspect his eyes. Bratty shifted and let out a contented cluck. “Do you want me to have another look? They’re really red. You might be allergic or have something still floating around in there.”
He smiled and kissed her forehead. “I’m not sure the addition of liquefied bird food in my eyes will do any good.”
She snorted. “I was going to wash up first.”
“I’m fine, really. How did the tube-feeding go?”
She held up the arm that wasn’t holding Bratty to display her general filthiness. “It’s not as easy as it looks. The tube popped off the syringe on my second try and blasted us both.”
He chuckled. “I’m sorry I missed it.”
Her hand flew to her hip. “What?”
“No, I mean I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help. I should have gone to the store after we finished feeding her.”
“At least her tummy is nice and full. The trade-off is that now she hates me and will never trust me again.” Rayna walked Bratty to her pen, took off her chicken diaper and let her down to forage for snacks, then she went to the sink to start washing her arms with warm water and soap.
She’d barely finished drying her arms when Kyle’s solid male body pressed into her back and thighs. He moved her hair to the side and brought his mouth to her neck, trailing heavy, wet kisses down the side of her throat. Next thing she knew his hands were wrapped around her front, kneading her breasts almost painfully through her thin cotton sundress. Seeing as her dress was doubling for pajamas, she didn’t have anything on underneath, so she felt every scrape of his jeans against her rump and every caress of his fingers moving over her sensitive nipples.
Her head fell back to rest against his chest, and her pussy clenched. There was something different about Kyle at this moment, but even if she couldn’t put her finger on what it was, she was more than willing to see where this led.