Bet Me to Stay

by Candace Havens

  “I met a guy.” Then she told her friend about how he was schooling her in the art of sex. “I’ve learned more about my body and his, well, than I’ve ever known. It was the most amazing experience of my life, and no way I’m giving you details. That’s all you need to know. Other than that he’s hot. Like, the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and that includes guys in magazines, television, and movies. He’s something else. And I think he might really be into me.”

  As she said it, she smiled. They’d been together every night since they met. Even when she tried to run away to write, he kept pulling her back. At first, she had a hard time believing he was that into her, the way she was most definitely into him. But then he’d look at her and there were no doubts in her mind.

  It would end soon, but she was riding the Liam train for as long as she could.

  “Gah,” Tansey complained. “You’re killing me. Killing. Me.”

  “Well, you’ll read some of it. I mean, not word for word or exactly what happens. But he’s been a fantastic muse.”

  “So is it serious?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “It’s strictly sex. We’ve both made it clear that it can’t be any more than that. Besides, when he finds out the truth about me, he’s never going to want to see me again. I mean, I need to tell him, right?”

  “I’m so confused. Who is this guy?”

  She found herself protective of Liam, and knowing Tansey, she’d just show up one day and grill him about his intentions or something. She was that kind of friend.

  “If he knew the truth, he’d be over me so fast.” She snapped her fingers. “But it’s almost like he doesn’t want to know. Every time I try to tell him, he changes the subject. He says as long as I’m not married, engaged, or running from the law, he doesn’t care.”

  But that niggling mite burrowing self-doubt into her belly was getting bigger and bigger. She had to tell him soon. Maybe just not today.

  “It’s hard for me to know what that is since you won’t share, but I’m on your side. So don’t tell him. Ride it out for as long as you can, or until you finish the book. This is your big break, my friend. You can’t afford to lose your muse.”

  “That’s so wrong. I need to tell him the truth. I don’t like using him.”

  Tansey shook her head. “No. He said he didn’t care about all that. You told me he said as long as you weren’t married or engaged, he didn’t care. It’s okay to have fun and to try to have a relationship with no baggage. Besides, this book, this is your ticket to the kind of dreams you want to come true. He’s getting something out of it and so are you. Have fun. Sounds like that’s all he cares about.

  “And putting the agent hat back on for a bit… You need this win. So far, this is a seat-gripper. I mean it when I say I can’t stop reading. Do you know how jaded I am these days? It’s so hard for me to find anything this fresh. I’m beyond excited for you. You need to just go with it and use your muse.”

  Cassie leaned back in her chair. “It feels so wrong. When I’m with him, I feel like I’m more me than I’ve ever been. Like, I can say or do anything. But there’s that small part of me he doesn’t know, and it’s always there.”

  Tansey smirked. “Friend hat back on. My guess is you don’t know all of his skeletons, either. It’s not like you plan on marrying the guy. You’re having a bit of fun. If it goes next-level, then maybe think about having that conversation.”

  Their scones arrived, along with clotted cream, strawberry jam, and a new pot of tea.

  Cassie bit into a scone and closed her eyes. “I swear they put crack in these,” she said.

  “It’s pure fat. I have to add three extra hours at the gym just to eat one.” She took a small bite. “But these things are worth every drip of sweat.”

  Her friend had always been conscious of her weight. Like Cassie, she’d had a problem when she was younger but since high school had been almost fanatical about it. While Cassie was somewhere between healthy and a bit soft, her friend didn’t have an ounce of fat on her anymore.

  But she killed herself to stay that way. Cassie had made a few changes, like instead of eating Double Stuf Oreos while she wrote, she’d switched to berries. There was no way she’d ever be a slave to the gym like Tansey. She smiled, thinking of Liam telling her how much he liked her curves.

  “Damn. That smile of yours. Yes, whatever is going on with this guy, continue it. You deserve some happiness.” Her friend ate a few bites of scone then put it down. Then she mimed switching hats again.

  “What? I’m almost afraid to ask that.”

  “Have you thought about your follow-up book? Once you turn this one in, they’re going to want to see what you have next.”

  She sighed. “Let me get through this one first. The next proposal isn’t due for two months, right?”

  Tansey nodded. “You can’t wait until the last minute. We want to go after that next contract while they’re excited about this one. I want to do a three-book deal, now that we know you can write in the genre.”

  And this was why it was great to have a best friend who also happened to be one of the top-selling agents in the United States. Her acumen in the business world left Cassie with the ability to create.

  “We’re also going to have to talk about a new brand. If you’re creating a new pseudonym, you’ll need different social media accounts.”

  It was all she could do not to stick out her tongue. She hated social media with a passion. It was just a game of one-upmanship, especially with authors. Look at my fabulous life. Look, I’m signing books in Italy. Well, I’m over here in Paris, shopping with my editor. Ugh.

  She loved the fans, but she hated the rest of it. Oh, and don’t even get her started on reviews. Though she’d never had a truly bad one. Some of her friends had been so soul-crushed they stopped writing.

  That’s when she decided, good or bad, she wouldn’t read them.

  While she belonged to a great writers’ group in Boston, she was careful about who she shared her real life with or what she really wrote, for that matter. Everything stayed close to the vest for her.

  “You’re getting hives. I can see the red splotches beginning on your cheeks. Tell you what, I’ll get my assistant to run your accounts. She’s aces at it and already does a few of my other clients. I’m going into New York tomorrow with your pages. I want to talk to your editor and see what kind of marketing strategy they have planned.”

  Ugh. Again. “You’re going to show them the pages? But it’s a rough draft. You know I only sent those so you’d stop calling me every few hours to ask how the writing was going, right?”

  “Yes. I’ll tell them it’s a rough draft. But you have to understand the more excited they are about the book, the bigger the push. Clean up these first three chapters for me tonight. That way I can tell them it’s still a rough draft and they’ll still think you’re brilliant. Deal? And the more readers, the better the money on the back end. Remember? We’re going for the big time.”

  “Fine. You do you, Tans. Just please don’t make me get on social media. I suck at it, anyway. And I won’t do any of those live chats. It’s like a deer-in-the-headlights thing for me.”

  “You might have to take the occasional selfie, but I’ll get it sorted for you. Maybe we’ll make you mysterious. People will wonder who you are. Yes. It works well with your mystery in the book.”

  “This right here is why I love you best.”

  “Damn straight you do.”

  …

  On the way back to her apartment, her phone rang. When she saw the caller, she almost didn’t answer, but she’d been ignoring her family for almost two weeks. They’d just keep calling. “Hey, Mom.”

  “You missed Sunday brunch and you didn’t call.”

  Just once it would be nice if her mom could say “hello” and hold off the guilt-piling for a few seconds. She had to stop and think for a second about where she’d been on Sunday. Oh yeah. In bed with a certain Irishman, giving him a b
low job.

  Yep, so not sharing that.

  “On a deadline, Mom. I explained this. I’m pretty much working all the time.” When I’m not having hot monkey sex with a god of a man. Her forehead broke out in a bit of a sweat, thinking about his abs and running her hands down them.

  Whew. She stopped and sat down on one of the park benches so she could focus on what her mom was saying. “Then your brother was telling me that he tried to call you and you didn’t answer. He even went by your place. So if you’re working so hard you can’t come visit your family, where exactly were you?”

  “Mom, I do get out of the house occasionally. I like to work different places around the city for inspiration.”

  “Well, why don’t you come by for dinner? I’m making lasagna for the family. Your dad is closing the pub early to do inventory.”

  If she said no, her mother would just keep calling. Every day. Many times a day. The once-a-week ritual of throwing herself to the wolves kept them at bay the rest of the time.

  That was terrible. She loved her family, they just—made her feel like shit a lot of the time. The sad part was they didn’t even realize it. She was a grown woman, and on occasion, she’d stood up for herself, but it was family and nothing ever changed.

  “Hello?” her mother yelled. “Did I lose you?”

  “I heard you. I’ll see you at seven tonight.”

  Besides, poor Liam probably needed a break from her.

  While she didn’t want to admit it, her body needed to rest. Never had she worked out as hard as she did the last few weeks. Turned out, with sex, you didn’t feel like you were getting the best workout of your life.

  And damn if it didn’t feel good.

  At least with Liam. Part of her worried that this might be it for her. That she’d never meet another man she connected with the way she did him.

  She prayed that wasn’t true, because as good as it was, there would be an end date. Probably the moment he found out about her family.

  “Cassandra, are you listening to me?”

  “Yes, Momma.”

  Her mother went on gossiping about one of the cousins.

  Did she need to text Liam to let him know she wouldn’t be around? How did that work exactly? Hey Liam, I’m not going to have hot sex tonight, I have another engagement.

  Yeah. Nope. She wasn’t texting him. If he reached out, she’d figure out what to do.

  “Mom, the reception’s getting bad. I’ll see you tonight,” she said before hitting the end button.

  There were a few hours left for writing, and she had an idea about her couple talking about their lives and backgrounds on a rooftop.

  Ugh. Poor Liam had no idea how much of his life was ending up in her rough draft. He was so much more interesting than the fictional man she’d created.

  …

  “Liam, did you order the pale ale? I can’t find it in the cooler.”

  “It’s behind the kegs. New guy put them in the wrong place when he delivered them.”

  Liam focused on the numbers before him. Business was good, better than it had been even a year ago. But he had a long way to go if he wanted to be as successful as those damn Rustic Pig folks.

  What is it about them that draws people in?

  He thought the food, while delicious, was overpriced. And the place was too sophisticated to be calling itself a pub.

  Maybe his clientele was a bit rough around the edges, but they appreciated hearty pub fare and the no-nonsense atmosphere. People came to drink, chat with their friends, and maybe hook up.

  Five minutes later, his brother was back.

  “I’m never going to finish this blasted budget if you keep interrupting me.”

  “I think I saw your chit going into the Pig across the street.”

  Liam shook his head. “Stop messing with me, brother, or I’ll knock your head in. The place is closed tonight. One of their regulars was complaining about it earlier when he stopped over here for a pint. So you maybe need to get yourself some glasses.”

  Finn shrugged. “Lots of girls with brown hair. Maybe you’re right.”

  That wasn’t fair. Sure, in the dim pub light her hair had seemed to be a plain dark brown, but it was rich and so soft. He loved wrapping the curls around his fingers, and images of him holding her head as she sucked his cock had him hard as a rock.

  Fuck.

  He had his phone in his hand before he even realized what he was doing.

  You writing tonight?

  She didn’t answer right away.

  Probably busy.

  Why did that bother him? She deserved to have a life.

  What if she’s out with some other bloke? That didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t jealousy. He just didn’t like the idea of her giving those infectious moans to any man but him.

  You’re an arsehole. You’ve only known her a minute.

  Well, two weeks. Still, the idea of her with someone else… Maybe it made him want to punch something.

  Then she texted. Sorry, family stuff. Maybe some other time? I’ll probably be late.

  That she wasn’t with another man gave him no end of pleasure.

  Or at least that was what she said. How many times had he trusted his ex? And she’d been off doing his best friend.

  Working late shift and we’re slammed. Feel free to bring your laptop and work if you get out early.

  He liked having her there, where he could watch her write. The emotions playing over her face as she typed.

  Thanks for the offer. I figured you’d be sick of me.

  Never.

  Well, hell. Did he mean that? So far, trying to get her out of his system hadn’t worked. All he’d thought about was kissing her. Why didn’t this whole thing twist him up like it did in the beginning? He’d normally be running for the hills at this point.

  Two weeks and he couldn’t think about doing anything except making her happy. Hearing that laugh of hers was often the highlight of his day, and those sexy moans of hers at night.

  Crap, there went his hard-on again. It was a permanent problem lately.

  Never is a very long time, Liam. But you just sent all kinds of good things through my body. :) If I can get away, I’ll see you before I head home.

  Not if he had anything to do with it. His plan was having her in his arms until the morning. And this time she wouldn’t be sneaking out. But that happy little emoji had him smiling the rest of the night.

  Chapter Eight

  The family gathered around the big butcher-block table in the kitchen of The Rustic Pig. Cassie’s parents lived upstairs, but it was easier to fit everyone in the commercial space, especially when the whole family was over for a meal.

  And dear heavens, they were all here. Aunt Ruth and her cousins Elisabeth and Stella. Between them and her sisters, it was like being surrounded by supermodels. Overly caring, always-in-her-business supermodels.

  “Oh, hun. Don’t eat the mashed potatoes,” her mother said. “The sweet potatoes are a better starch for you. And you don’t want to eat two starches. Besides, your Aunt Ruth swears they are the key to not aging. And you want to find a husband someday. It’s important to keep your looks for as long as you can.”

  “That’s right. They’re so much healthier and don’t add a lick to your hips,” Aunt Ruth chimed in. Yes, this was why she often, quite conveniently, forgot family dinners. She did love these people, but holy hell, they drove her nuts.

  Since she couldn’t roll her eyes, she took a heaping spoonful of both potatoes. Then dolloped butter onto them. None of it sounded good. Usually she couldn’t get enough of her mother’s cooking. Why was she serving potatoes with lasagna anyway, if they were so worried about starches? Like most things involving her family, it didn’t make any sense.

  “Hey, sis.” Her brother snapped his fingers to get her attention. “Did you hear we’re putting a baseball team together for the pub? Any chance you want to play?”

  The whole table laughed. Ugh. The on
e time she’d been allowed to hold a bat, she’d swung too hard, turned, tripped, and landed on top of the catcher. They’d rolled a bit, and she’d accidentally broken the kid’s arm.

  And that’s when they started calling her Roly Poly. As if the whole incident wasn’t embarrassing enough, the ridiculous nickname had plagued her for eight years. No way would she give him the satisfaction of showing her anger.

  “Hard. Pass. Thanks. Lots of deadlines.” Then she stuffed a bunch of lasagna in her mouth.

  Her phone buzzed, but she kept it under the table. No phones allowed at dinner, unless you wanted the whole family to read whatever someone had texted.

  All she really wanted to do was get out of here and go see Liam. He’d texted that he’d never tire of her, and while she understood he was being kind, it had sent a thrill through her.

  That he wanted to spend more time with her was a treat. When was the last time someone just wanted to hang out? Well, other than Tansey.

  She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. No way could she show any emotions at this table. After the third degree from her best friend and favorite agent, she’d have to be more careful about that sort of thing.

  Her phone buzzed in her lap, and it was all she could do to not look down.

  Her mother tsked her disappointment over Cassie’s carb-loading, but she just didn’t care.

  When her phone buzzed again, she flipped it over to take a look.

  “No phones at the table,” her brother said. “Besides, who would be texting you this time of night?”

  “My boyfriend,” she said.

  The table gasped. Oh. My. Hell. What did I just say?

  Holding up a hand, she said, “Do not ask me twenty questions. No, you can’t meet him. I just met him a few weeks ago. He’s very nice and handsome. No one has ever treated me better than he does, and that’s all you need to know at this time.”

  There was a long, silent pause and all eyes were on her.

  Then everyone started talking at once.

  Nope. She wasn’t going to let her family take away the joy of hanging out with Liam. This was her thing. And, yes, she was dumb for mentioning it.

  Was he her boyfriend? It had only been a couple of weeks, and they weren’t to the point where anything needed to be defined. It was all fun. Right?