Bad Reputation

by Callie Blake

  “I swear,” he growled, every inch of his shaft still buried inside her as he reclaimed the top. “Only you could make me feel this good,” he groaned, in such ecstasy that he felt like he was losing his mind. “No one else, Peyton. Only you.”

  The words ground out from between his gnashed teeth as he drowned in pure, unadulterated bliss. Peyton could actually feel Connor losing himself inside her, and she loved every second of it. The air between them was thick, hot, filled to the brim with their passion and swirling with a million words unspoken. But Peyton could almost feel them as Connor growled, his entire body hard as a rock as he pumped his hips and thrust inside her, edging her toward a second climax.

  This time when she came, she took him right with her.

  Peyton’s mouth fell open as they rocked against each other, their eyes locked and their hands grasping desperately for one another. Her body humming and her brain buzzing, she bit down on her lip, locking in those words she knew she shouldn’t say.

  But it was so hard.

  It was so fucking hard when Connor kept saying all those things that made her so happy she felt delirious. Only you could make me feel this good. I could look at you forever.

  What the hell was she supposed to do?

  “Connor, I think – ”

  Peyton caught herself as he rolled on his back and pulled her on top of his chest. He was so sweet, his eyes so earnest as he waited for to say the rest. But she couldn’t. It was too dangerous. It was nothing but a bad idea, and she wouldn’t allow herself to do it.

  “I’m falling in love with you, Connor.”

  Or maybe she could.

  Fuck.

  Peyton froze with her mouth still open. Somehow, the words had tumbled out. She hadn’t wanted them to. She definitely hadn’t given permission, yet here she was, living that classic nightmare moment as Connor stared back at her in wordless surprise. It could’ve been two, three seconds that passed, but to Peyton, it felt like forever. An eternity. Another second of silence and she was sure she’d climb off his chest, slide off the bed and run all the way back to New York.

  But to her relief, Connor broke into a grin that crinkled his eyes.

  “Come here,” he murmured, holding a handful of Peyton’s damp hair as he crushed his lips against hers, kissing away any doubt she had that he didn’t feel the same.

  Well. Most of it at least. He hadn’t said it back, but he was kissing her now with what felt like the same love that she felt.

  And just the taste of that on his lips was enough to send her drifting off on a cloud.

  22

  From the very start of the trip, Peyton had dreaded going home to New York. After days of snuggling into Connor at night and making breakfast with him in the morning, she hated the idea of returning to her big, empty apartment, her weird, mismatched room and all the responsibilities that came with being in the city.

  But now that she was back home, she was fine.

  Of course, it just so happened that her last morning at the farmhouse had left her on a high – so much so that now she was practically skipping up the block to her building.

  And, of course, it had every bit to do with Connor. No, he didn’t say the words back to her last night.

  But Peyton liked to think that he had this morning.

  In his way. I mean what else could it have meant? They had been doing a final check of the farmhouse to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind. Once the coast was clear, Connor grabbed the keys and let Peyton out of the house first. But just as she headed down the steps of the porch, he turned and said, “Hey.” Give me a kiss, was what she read from the look on his face so with a smile, Peyton hopped back up the steps, went on her toes and pressed her lips against his. And just as she pulled away, he said, “Me too.”

  Then he left her standing there, eyes fluttering and wondering if that meant what she thought it did as he turned to lock the door to the house.

  She wasn’t sure why she didn’t ask him to clarify during the three-hour ride home. Maybe it was the fact that she spent too long trying to figure out what else “me too” could be in response to, besides what she said to him last night in his bed.

  By the time she concluded it didn’t fit in response to any conversation they’d had that morning, it was too late to bring up again.

  But Peyton didn’t mind. She was oddly charmed by Connor’s sneaky declarations of love. She had a hunch that he was as inexperienced as she was when it came to love and relationships – a hilarious notion to think of, by the way – so she shrugged it off and let it go.

  Me too, Peyton repeated with a smile as she approached her building. I’ll take it, she decided. Those three little words would have been nice, but she was perfectly happy with two.

  “Hey!” Randall the doorman greeted Peyton with cheer when she waltzed through the front doors. “Looks like you got some sun!”

  “Did I? Awesome!” Peyton replied with matching excitement, though she knew she hadn’t actually gotten much sun. What she’d gotten was some rest, some relaxation, and three days of the best sex of her life. If not sun, she definitely had a glow.

  “You have a good day now!” Randall called after Peyton as she got in the elevators.

  “Thank you! I will!”

  Oops.

  She usually said “you too,” but her brain was somewhere else today – in some gushy, happy fog. It didn’t hurt that Connor had invited her to accompany him at his office today.

  “We can make it seem like you’re there for work purposes,” he’d suggested with a grin. But as tempting as it was – and as much as she waffled over it for the last ten minutes of their ride – Peyton declined. They weren’t in Nowheresville, Connecticut anymore. They were back in Manhattan, where there were eyes everywhere, and it just wasn’t worth the risk of rumors or drama. Not after three days of blissful perfection.

  “Then I’ll text you tonight,” Connor said, leaning in to give her a kiss before she climbed out the car. “I don’t think I can go too long without seeing you now.”

  “Me neither,” Peyton murmured. “You spoiled me.”

  “Good,” Connor grinned. “That was the plan.”

  So… yeah. Kind of a great morning.

  A smile stuck on her face, Peyton drifted into the apartment, shedding her bags and letting them drop to the floor as she went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She was so easy, breezy and happy that it took her a full twenty seconds to notice who was sitting on the couch.

  “Omigod!” Peyton gasped, white-knuckling her glass when she spotted Russell already laughing at her on the couch. He nearly blinded her as the sunlight bounced off his veneers. “Oh my God,” Peyton exhaled, letting herself laugh with a bit of confusion as she caught her breath. “Uncle Russell. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, well, I had business to tend to so I flew home a little earlier than everyone,” he answered, nodding at the water filter as Peyton refilled her glass.

  “Oh. Sorry,” she said hastily as she poured him some water as well. Rounding the counter, she handed her uncle the glass, doing her best to hide her wariness.

  But she knew something was off.

  Russell didn’t usually make house calls when Kensie wasn’t home, so Peyton honestly wasn’t sure what was about to happen – all she knew was that it had to be about Kensie, and something that happened in Ireland.

  Fuck. She should’ve known that her world had not in fact been perfect the past few days – that trouble was brewing on that set overseas.

  “So… how was the shoot?” Peyton asked, attempting nonchalance. Maybe if she acted like everything was fine, the bad news would just poof into thin air. That was how it worked, right?

  Nope. The instant sigh Russell gave was answer enough.

  “Blake Rittenhouse paid me a visit in Ireland,” Russell said. Peyton promptly choked on her water.

  “What? Blake found you guys? How? Why?”

  Russell rolled his eyes as he ran a hand thr
ough his silver coif.

  “Who knows how he got there. Let’s just talk about why,” he said. Facing Peyton, he dropped the bombshell she had already known of weeks ago. “He wanted to propose to Kensie.”

  Peyton barely had to feign her shock. “‘Wanted’ to?” she repeated, enticed by his phrasing. Please let this mean he changed his mind, please let this mean he changed his mind…

  “Wanted to, but naturally, I shot him down. For some reason, this idiot thought that if he came to get my blessing first, I’d approve more of his character,” Russell said. With an incredulous look at Peyton, they both snorted then shared a laugh. “This fucking guy. I told him, ‘Blake, there’s no amount of yoga or self discovery that’ll make me change my mind about you being talentless and unworthy of my daughter.’”

  “You said that?” Peyton asked with true delight in her eyes.

  “Do you remember who you’re talking to?” Russell grinned. “Of course I did.”

  Peyton laughed again, partially relieved by the story thus far, and somewhat surprised to be sharing her first real bonding moment with Uncle Russell in probably more than ten years.

  “So what happened afterward?” she asked.

  “Well, he got all sulky and wounded. He said that he loved her. That he was the only man in this world who’d ever have Kensie’s heart – ”

  “Gross.”

  “Uh-huh. And I said,” Russell paused for effect, directing a pointed look at Peyton, “I said, ‘Blake, you’re wrong. Because my daughter’s already got her eye on someone else.’” He slowed his speech down as he leaned back in his chair. “‘Someone much better than you.’”

  Peyton paused, her smile faltering as her uncle’s stare went from warm to icy in less than a second. A chill shot up her spine as she felt something shift in the air – something that told her Kensie wasn’t actually the one in trouble.

  She was.

  “You know, when I told Blake that I was talking about Connor Schaffer, he shared a very interesting story with me,” Russell said, filling Peyton with dread.

  She knew exactly what happened now. It helped to know how Blake Rittenhouse generally acted in the face of rejection. Basically, his instinct was to throw Peyton under the bus.

  And this time was no different.

  “So, tell me,” Russell said, adjusting the gleaming cufflinks on his shirt. When he was finished, he returned his cold stare to Peyton. “How long have you been seeing Connor Schaffer?”

  Her mouth open and shut as she tried to think of the right answer. In all honesty, she wasn’t completely sure herself.

  “And before you try to lie to me, you should remember that one night, a long time ago, you failed to return my calls when I needed you to. So the next day, I had you provide me with your friend Hailey’s number. Just in case,” Russell said, almost in singsong. “Well, ‘just in case’ came quite in handy last night when I called Hailey to confirm what Blake told me about yourself and Connor. And in case you’re curious about the loyalty of the friends you choose, she gave you up on the spot.”

  Damn it, Hailey. Peyton clenched her teeth as she tried to gather herself.

  “Listen, I don’t know what she told you, but – ”

  “It doesn’t matter what she told me. What I heard was enough,” Russell snarled, going from zero to sixty in a snap. “If Connor Schaffer is picking you up at your little painting studio in Brooklyn, then I imagine there’s enough going on between you two to piss me off. Because the fact of the matter is, Peyton, that I hired Connor for a unique, specific reason. I had plans for his place in my daughter’s life, and those plans did not in any way involve you. You, Peyton, also have a very specific place in Kensie’s life, and honestly, I’d always been impressed with how well you understood it from the start. It would be ugly for me to state your role explicitly to you, and I was grateful that you never forced me to do so.” He paused and made a face. “At least not until now.”

  “Then say it,” Peyton ground out. “What is my role here?”

  “Your role is somewhere behind the scenes, Peyton,” Russell snapped. “It’s not in the spotlight and certainly nowhere upstage of my daughter.”

  “I am not trying to upstage Kensie, Uncle Russell. I promise you, I have nothing but her happiness in mind. Ever,” Peyton argued.

  “Really?” Russell made a face of interest. “You brought out the cheater in her ex-fiancé and slept with the very next man she took interest in.”

  “I won’t let you blame me for Blake Rittenhouse’s shitty character,” Peyton said, her voice shaking. “I have nothing to do with the fact that he is disloyal and unworthy of Kensie. I will, however, acknowledge that I fell for Connor when I shouldn’t have. I didn’t plan to. Trust me, I didn’t want to, but I… I just – “

  “What?” Russell mocked her. “You just got swept away? No. See, that’s the thing, Peyton. You don’t get the luxury of getting swept away. You have a job here, and that is to serve Kensie,” he said so bluntly that it shocked her. “What, does that sound bad?” Russell laughed. “I’m sure it does. But the reality is, all things considered, your life is a cakewalk, Peyton,” he practically spat. “You enjoy the apartments, the vacation, the luxury that comes with being a Cohan, and you do it without having to deal with the pressure. The expectations. I have a well-known reputation in this town. I’ve worked long and hard to be where I am, and I have worked long and hard to ensure my children follow my lead. The world is watching them to see if they live up to their name, and as you know, my youngest child is the only one left who’s struggling with that. The media is watching her. They’ve seen my other kids accomplish great things, they’ve waited awhile for Kensie to make her debut, and now they’re starting to talk,” Russell said with irritation. “They’re starting to laugh and wait for her to fail. So let me tell you now: there’s no goddamned way I’m letting her assistant, her handmaid creep out of the shadows and steal her thunder. Her prize. I’m telling you now, Peyton. If you don’t cut contact with Connor Schaffer today, it’s over for you.”

  Peyton felt her teeth chattering with fury. When Russell finished his speech, she did her best to gather her voice – and the nerve to actually fire back at him.

  “What’s over for me?” she demanded, cocking her head. “I don’t have anything, Russell. Nothing of my own. I’ve dedicated my life since I was a child to you. To Kensie. I’ve dropped everything I was doing to serve your every request. Forget a social life – I’ve forgotten to do things like eat or use the bathroom because you needed me that second to extract Kensie from some situation. And while we’re on this topic, let me make something clear: you and I have enabled her,” Peyton hissed. “No, she hasn’t won an Emmy or swept Sundance like your other children, but Kensie is smart. She is caring and capable – she has everything it takes to eventually figure things out on her own. You just refuse to let her make the mistakes that everyone else in this world makes when they’re becoming adults, because you refuse to be embarrassed. Not for a second. Not as a Cohan,” Peyton seethed.

  Russell laughed in her face.

  “Again, you’re proving my point that there are pressures that come with being my child. You’re expected to have garnered accolades at some point. Not everyone can dilly dally without achievements like you, Peyton,” he said cruelly. “Some people actually have something to lose.”

  “You’re exactly right,” Peyton said, her face on fire. “I have nothing to lose. So if I keep seeing Connor, what could you possibly take away from me?” she challenged.

  “Nothing. But I can take away from him,” Russell replied easily. “If you have any shred of a conscience – which, judging from past incidents with your mother and Kensie, you do – you may care to know that I could send one email now and end Connor Schaffer’s career. And trust me, I know how hard the boy has worked to earn it. I did my research before introducing him into my daughter’s life, and I must say, I was impressed. Like me, he’s given up a lot to be where he is now, s
o it would truly be a shame for him to suddenly lose everything he’s worked for – and to something so unworthy,” Russell said, pinning his heartless stare to Peyton. “And insignificant.”

  The silence that followed hung in the air like icicles. Peyton’s heart pounded out of her chest as she watched Russell’s lips turn up in a smile.

  He had her. And he knew it.

  “Anyway,” Russell exhaled, rising up from his seat. He shook his sleeve to glance down at his Rolex. “I’ve got a meeting to get to. But before I go, I’d like to know that you’re on board with my plan.”

  “What plan?”

  “I’d prefer you gone by the time Kensie gets home. Not forever, of course – just till the film’s been out and this whole Connor thing blows over,” Russell said, flashing that fake, Hollywood smile. “I’d provide you the money to be comfortable elsewhere for however long that you’re gone. God knows the cost of living is cheap outside New York.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Russell,” Peyton snapped.

  “Oh, but you are,” he said confidently, strolling over to the door. “Quit while you’re ahead, Peyton,” he called over his shoulder. “I’m sure the fling was fun. I’m sure he made you feel pretty. But I’m also sure he won’t enjoy you quite so much when just looking at you reminds him of the fall of his career.” Russell chuckled as he reached the elevator and hit the button. “If you’re smart, you’ll take the good memories and run.” Stepping into the elevator, he turned around and straightened his suit, giving Peyton a final grin. “Better than letting me wreak havoc on his life because you dared to tell me no.”

  23

  “Sorry. Just one more minute.”

  Peyton’s voice wavered as she apologized to the cabbie that she had idling on the sidewalk, just a block from Connor’s tavern.