Whiskey and Honey: Can a forbidden fling be real love? (The Empire Records Series Book 1)

by Heather Lauren

  “Have a great day with your pops today, sweetheart.”

  “Come with us, buddy.”

  Cole chuckles and sets her down. “I can’t today, but maybe next time. Is that okay?”

  “Sure. Love you, byeeee.” She shrugs and heads out the door with Marcus.

  I turn back toward my sketchpad and make a note to myself to pick up samples from Janice who I’ve been emailing with about the warehouse retail space. We meet the owners, Sam and Elliott—yes, they also happen to be fans of the famous actor cowboy we all love—this week, and I know I’m going to love them.

  We talked a lot this week on Skype so they could show me what their style was like, and it’s bright and beautiful and perfect for San Diego. They told me they started small in mom-and-pop-owned resort boutiques and are expanding to beaches all over the world, offering the most high-end resort and beachwear for the entire family, small dog accessories included. I can feel Cole come up behind me, but I don’t say anything.

  I’m working on my fifth sketch for my presentation, but I’m not sure if it will make the cut or not. The inescapable scent of Cole fills the air around me. It’s something woodsy and clean, like sexy lumberjack meets exotic waterfall.

  “Is this for the retail warehouse?” He looks down over my right shoulder, and his face is so close to mine I can almost feel his beard against my cheek. White-hot heat is radiating from him and surrounding me.

  “Yeah,” is all I’m able to breathe out. Lost in my lustful thoughts I clear my throat and hand him my sketchbook, then bend forward to grab my coffee mug.

  “This is great too. The guys are gonna have a hard time deciding. Did they send those color samples yet, or are they just going to bring them at this point?”

  “They’re bringing samples and a lot of different things, but I still need to get the floor samples before our meeting Monday. Which is going to be where, by the way? I’m sure they’ll want to see the site, but they also need to show us a lot of fabric, and we don’t even have a chair on site yet.”

  “Umm. That is a really great question and is one of many reasons I keep you around.” He winks and takes the seat next to me and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

  “No problem.” I giggle. Giggle like a stupid schoolgirl. Who the hell have I become? How can one man have more power over my body than I do? It’s absolutely infuriating, but I have zero control. “I’m out. Gonna shower and all that jazz.”

  I shake my hands as I walk away, fanning away all the dirty images I’m creating and taking deep breaths of non-Cole-smelling air so I can breathe and think at the same time.

  Heading up the stairs, I mentally start prepping myself for tonight. It’s going to be epic and I’m going to look and feel the same, so I have to go shopping. Upstairs I grab my cell phone from the charger by my bed and text Charlie.

  Lyla: “What are you doing right now? Besides listening to music or writing it.”

  Charlie: “Um, confused emoji?”

  Lyla: “Did you just type out an emoji, Charlie?”

  Charlie: “I couldn’t find one that really captured the state of my emotion. Lol.”

  Lyla: “Okay, dude, come shopping with me.”

  Charlie: “I don’t really care for shopping. You’ve seen my wardrobe and as much as I love you, I would rather jump into a volcano overflowing with lava and fire sharks than surround myself with people and ugly overpriced merchandise.”

  Lyla: “Eye roll emoji. Babe, just come help me find a dress for tonight. I need someone who will be honest when something looks terrible on me.”

  Charlie: “Make Cole take you.”

  Lyla: “No! It’s hard enough for me to keep my hands to myself. I can’t be modeling sexy dresses for him. I’m bound to end up straddling him just for smiling at me. I’m a fucking mess around that man, Charlie. You have no idea.”

  Charlie: “What? Since when does Lyla the self-proclaimed man crusher become a mess about a man? I’m in total and complete shock right now.”

  Lyla: “Me fucking too!”

  Charlie: “Well, what does this mean? You actually like a guy for the first time in what…forever? Literally the first in your life Lyla, and you’re not going to do anything about it but complain to me about how much you like him? I know you’re stubborn but that’s all new level, even for you.”

  Lyla: “Things are complicated; you know that. He’s my roommate, my boss, and my best friend’s best friend who will kill us if he finds out.”

  Charlie: “If he finds out what exactly?”

  Lyla: “Um. I’m going to get an Uber and come pick you up. You are going to help me find a dress for tonight.”

  Charlie: “Only if you tell me everything.”

  Lyla: “Fine.”

  14

  Cole

  Looking at myself in the mirror, I rub some beard oil down my face, spray some cologne, and twist up my hair. Working with Lyla this week has felt like long and tortuous foreplay. We’ve been riding this cliff, wanting each other so badly, but knowing it’s against the rules. It feels exciting but it also feels right.

  Walking back out to my room, I toss on my tailored black suit jacket over my black collared button-down and shrug it up over my shoulders. It’s Fight Night and I feel like a million bucks. I went all out too. VIP for Lyla’s first live fight. It’s kinda become our thing. Every night after work, she’ll make some over-the-top amazing dinner, and we’ll sit down and watch a fight.

  I don’t think we are exactly the friends we said we would be, but we also can’t be anything more so tonight is my way of showing her more the only way I can. Checking my phone, I see our driver is five minutes away. I open my bedroom door and head downstairs, shouting, “Five minutes on our ride!”

  At the bottom of the stairs, I’m awestruck at the sight of Lyla. My mouth goes dry and my heart starts raging. My dick hardens instantly and who the hell knows what my face looks like. I have no idea what I’m feeling other than feeling like the luckiest man alive to have this gorgeous woman for the night. And she will be mine tonight; there is no way I’m going to be able to control myself anymore. Tonight feels heavy with possibilities, but the problem is we invited all our complications with us. Maybe Marcus will go home with someone tonight and we’ll have the house to ourselves.

  “Hey” Her voice is so low it’s almost a whisper, like she doesn’t want to pop our bubble. By the look on her face, she’s just as affected by me.

  “You look absolutely stunning, Lyla,” I say honestly and watch her cheeks turn pink. How can one woman be so adorable and sexy at the same time?

  “Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”

  I start walking toward her, and her eyes widen and her chest rises and falls faster and faster the closer I get. I reach her and bring her hand up to my mouth and kiss her fingers. Her beautiful green eyes are looking right through me. Like she sees exactly who I am and wants all of it.

  Our gaze is locked as I let her hand drop. She starts to lean up to kiss me when we hear the front door being unlocked. She turns and runs both hands through her hair, walking toward the door. She looks back over her shoulder. “Ready to head down?”

  “Yep. Right behind you.”

  Marcus opens the door before we reach it and is already dressed so we all head down to the limo parked in front of our house. It’s a stretch Hummer because Lyla made a joke when she saw her favorite fighter was leaving a fight in one and she called him a pansy. A pretentious pansy to be exact, but she always roots for Caleb; he’s always been her favorite. He won the first fight we watched together and is truly a badass motherfucker. I can’t wait to surprise her; I’m practically bouncing on my toes like Harmony. The driver holds the door open, and I help her in. When I sit down beside her, she leans in.

  “Very funny.”

  “Thought you’d like it.” I wink.

  Marcus joins us inside the cab and pops a bottle of champagne. We pick up Charlie, Mason, and Willow, and cheers to great times wit
h great friends. I barely hear anything other than the sound of Lyla’s voice and laughter.

  I press my leg against hers and she smiles, never taking her eyes off Willow, who’s telling her all about the tattoo parlor she works at. I try to push my arm up again her as sly as I can, but Marcus claps me on the other leg, scaring the shit out of me, and I physically jump. Lyla finds this hilarious but tries her best to stifle her reaction which seems to bring a small tear to her eye. I give her a look I hope spells out I will remember this, and I ease away from her slowly, sitting straighter as Marcus explains to me a few ins and outs of fatherhood. Fucking awkward.

  The fight is being held in a large convention center with a five-star restaurant and hotel and is surrounded by strip malls. Lyla actually got us all reservations even though they are booked for the year. I don’t think her reputation is as ruined as she fears. Anyone who meets her knows the kindhearted, incredibly strong, and talented woman she is. No way anyone really believes she had anything to do with anything illegal.

  The place is fancy as fuck. Two-story ceilings with giant white columns throughout the restaurant with white sheer drapes hanging from above and sectioning off outer tables. We follow the hostess and I can’t help but want to hold Lyla’s hand, give her my elbow, or anything at all just to touch her. Suddenly it hits me. I planned this date and it’s not a fucking date; it’s with the entire group because Lyla isn’t mine. We’re just friends, I have to remind myself. This was a fucking terrible idea; I don’t want to share her, especially not wearing that tight red dress that hugs all her curves like a second skin. I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to pull my shit together before I throw her over my shoulder and run away with her like the caveman she makes me feel like.

  We are seated at a huge table in the back that offers more privacy than the rest of the restaurant. I pull out a chair for Lyla, and she beams her beautiful smile at me in thanks. I was so distracted by it, Willow and Charlie snagged the two seats beside her so I round the table to sit with Marcus and Mason. The waiter comes and takes our orders and halfway through our meal the chef, in all white, comes out to meet Lyla. He looks young but tired. Dark circles under his eyes almost match his black hair, and he greets the table and shakes all our hands, introducing himself as Travis Grumble from Chicago. He takes both of Lyla’s hands in his, and I have a knee-jerk reaction to remove his arms from his body.

  “I am so honored to have you here this evening, Ms. Turner. I hope your dinner was up to your high standards.”

  “It is amazing, Mr. Grumble, thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Oh, please call me Travis. I’ve looked up to you since school where Dominic Sanata still raves about his favorite student. Not to mention I ate at your Warehouse 39 as often as financially possible when I lived in Chicago.”

  I notice her smile is fake and she’s fidgeting with the napkin, uncomfortable.

  “I was so sorry to hear about it closing; it was my favorite place to eat by far. What happened? Are you opening here?” he says with an optimist smile and seems to light up at the possibility.

  “No, I’ve decided to retire actually, but thank you so much for your kind praise, Travis. It means a lot coming from someone as talented as yourself.”

  His face falls into a deep frown at her words. His bushy brows pull down in confusion, and he looks around the table at the rest of the group, looking for an explanation maybe.

  “Thank you again for the reservation. This meal was fantastic,” I say, hoping he’ll leave. The beaming smile Lyla had all night is gone, and I need it back.

  “It was truly my pleasure. If you will allow me, I would love to make a special dessert just for your party, Ms. Turner?”

  “That isn’t necessary but enthusiastically appreciated.”

  “Consider it done.” He says goodbye to all of us and leaves.

  “Did you sell your restaurant to move here?” Willow asks innocently, and pure dread washes over Lyla’s face, leaving her pale. I’ve got to do something; that fake smile is killing me. There is no way I’m not doing anything now.

  I go to grab my napkin and knock over my red wine. It spills all over the table and Lyla, Willow, and I stand and start throwing napkins at it. A waiter rushes over, and I chance a glance at Lyla. Our eyes meet and she smiles genuinely for the first time since the pubescent chef came over and shit on her happiness. Dumb fucker. I give her a wink and watch her shoulders relax. The rest of the meal went smooth.

  In the last few weeks, Lyla told me all about Howard and the cutthroat restaurant industry and how miserable she didn’t realize she was. It’s strange how much I can relate to her misery. Instead of the food industry, I was stuck in a terrible marriage, not realizing just how bad it was.

  The dessert comes on a literal silver platter and is an elaborate display of chocolate mousse and fruit. It’s as good as the meal, and we all seem to fall quiet as we devour it.

  Marcus slaps my back and I notice everyone getting up to leave. The fight awaits and I couldn’t be more excited.

  15

  Cole

  We walk through the elaborate convention center to the main arena. I catch up to Lyla and Charlie and guide everyone to a side door down a long hallway. Two big guards stop us, and I show my VIP pass on my phone. They nod and both of them open the doors and we are hit with the sounds of Pantera’s “Walk.” I watch Lyla’s face light up like Christmas as she takes everything in.

  Both her and Charlie take my arms, and we walk in to meet a blond hostess who waves her hand to guide us to our section. The three of us sit on a black leather couch, and our little group spreads out, grabbing drinks from a small bar and ordering different things from a waitress. The place is so loud and the perfect excuse to get close to Lyla. I lean into her and put my lips to her ear, placing a quick kiss on her lobe, and then I ask her if she likes it so far. She shivers and when I lean back to see her, she smiles a lust-filled smile and nods. I go back in, moving her hair away with my nose just to feel her and say, “Just wait.”

  Leaning back, I give her a look that conveys all the dirty things I want to do to her and I’m not holding back anymore. Her eyes go wide, and she licks her cherry-stained lip and bites down on the bottom lip in a sweet grin. The sight gets me semi hard already and we just got here. I laugh internally and visibly swallow hard. She notices and looks to my lap, her grin stretching wide across her face.

  The song changes and Charlie leans into me, sending me shooting back against the couch. She leans across me to say something to Lyla. Charlie stands up, and Lyla leans into me.

  “We are going to find the ladies’ room. Be right back,” she says right up against my ear, doing nothing to help my growing dick, but I’m happy I chose to wear my hair down when she places a wet kiss right behind my ear and my eyes close without my control.

  After a deep breath, I watch the girls leave, and I decide to head over to the bar for a drink. The fight is going strong and the arena is a madhouse. Cheers boom from thousands of fans as Caleb pins his opponent to the ground. The guy tries to buck him off like a damn bull, but Caleb’s impressive strength keeps him glued to him. The dude even stands up, and Caleb stays put around his waist and bends back and flips the guy headfirst onto the mat. The ref and announcer have a field day stopping the fight. Both fighters break and sit back in their corners for a few. When they go at it again, it is hands down Caleb’s fight, and everyone knows it. Lyla is suddenly back at my side and screams something but it’s impossible to understand. Her excitement is worth every penny I paid for tonight. The fight is over and Caleb is our reigning king, which will make tonight that much better.

  I take her hand to get her attention and bury my face in her hair and eventually find her ear. She giggles before I say, “There’s more. Come with me.” She nods and I tell Marcus and the others to follow. I keep her hand in mine, not giving a single fuck at this point what anyone thinks. I lead them back out to the hall, and one of the guards helps guide
us to a locked door. He scans a key card and opens the door for us. We walk for what seems like miles, and he scans us through another two doors before we reach a back door with a red star. The guard asks us to step back, and Lyla pulls on my arm with a thousand questions in her eyes, which I ignore and lead her through the door. As soon as we’re inside, we join a small group of people all talking about the fight. A few guys in front of me part and I see our boy. I pull Lyla and her face is priceless, complete shock and wide eyes and never more beautiful. Yep, totally worth it.

  I grab a bottle of Black Label scotch from a table and walk up to the man of the hour.

  “Ah, you must be Cole.” Caleb stands and greets us. I put down the bottle and shake the man’s hand, honestly not expecting the warm welcome.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Great fight as always.”

  “Thanks, mate. I appreciate it. That fucker was too easy though, not as much fun.”

  He winks at Lyla and suddenly I’m less of a fan. She shakes his hand with a smile, and he asks us to join his table and introduces us to his wife and I can relax again. Our group easily mixes in with his entourage, and we all enjoy a glass of whiskey and listen to everything he says like the fans we are. Charlie comes over and pulls Lyla away and internally I’m working on a speech in hopes Lyla wants me as much as I want her, even if everything is complicated.

  “Eh, mate, that your bird?” Caleb asks, pulling me out of my thoughts and pointing to Lyla whose face is as red as her dress. Something’s wrong. I jump up and hurry past a few people, weaving between tables and chairs, my eyes locked on her. She’s yelling at someone, but I can’t make out her words or who she’s yelling at. There are too many people in my way, and I can feel my blood boil. I start to shove my way through the crowd, losing sight of her for a second. When I reach her, Charlie and Marcus are pulling her toward the door, and my girl is fighting them tooth and nail, legs kicking. I hurry to scoop her up, throwing her over my shoulder, and head out the door. People behind us are screaming, and I can’t hear anything else until the doors close, and then it’s almost completely silent. Nodding to the guards they open the door and lead us down the hall. Muffled music from the arena drifts around us, and I can feel Lyla relax but she’s still breathing heavy. No one says anything until we step outside for the limo. I pull my phone out to text the driver, holding Lyla firmly on my shoulder. She wiggles, trying to get down, but I still her with a sharp slap to her ass, not thinking.