Only with You

by Lauren Layne

  She shook her head in shame. How could she have been so foolish? All that effort she’d put into pleasing the man, and the entire time he’d merely been seeing a competent secretary. A replaceable one, apparently.

  Sophie had been stupidly trying to win a smile from Gray, when really all he’d expected was that she earn her paycheck from Mr. Wyatt.

  Sophie stared down at the small packages of half-and-half. They seemed to represent everything that had been wrong about the pseudo-relationship. She pulled the garbage can out from under the desk and, with slow purpose, turned the delicate glass bowl upside down, listening as the small plastic containers crashed into the trash can.

  “Ms. Dalton. Is that company property you’re disposing of?”

  The glass bowl slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor as she spun around with a shriek.

  She should have been prepared for this. Of course, Gray would be here. Their entire relationship had been based on a series of coincidental meetings. It made sense that their final meeting would be yet another disastrous accident.

  “Working on a Saturday night is pathetic, even for you,” she said with as much disdain as her thudding heart would allow.

  Gray stood framed against his office door, arms crossed. She wished he were wearing a suit so she could distance herself from the CEO. But his dark jeans and casual gray shirt made her long for the man, not the employer.

  “I’m not working tonight,” he said.

  “So you’re just here hanging out?” she asked breezily. “I suppose that makes sense. At least in the office you have the occasional janitorial visit. At home you’re merely alone.”

  She didn’t know where the cold words came from. It was as if cruelty was the only way of keeping her heart from shattering. He said nothing, just looked at her with unreadable gray eyes.

  “Did Beth tell you I was coming by?” she asked tentatively, confused by his intense gaze.

  “She mentioned it, yes.”

  “And you didn’t think it would be wise to be anywhere else when I got here?” she asked incredulously.

  “That kind of would’ve defeated the purpose, wouldn’t it? I specifically asked Ms. Jennings when you’d be collecting your belongings, and she seemed to have this crazy idea that Saturday evening was the only possible time you could squeeze this into your schedule.”

  His raised eyebrow said it all. He saw right through her.

  “I’ve had a busy couple weeks,” she said weakly.

  He nodded once, but only continued looking at her with a steady gaze. Almost as though he were looking for something.

  “Didn’t Beth think it was weird when you asked about me?” she blurted out.

  “Probably.”

  “That wasn’t your best plan,” she said stiffly. “Now she probably thinks something is going on between us.”

  “Yes, she definitely thinks that. Well, actually, everyone does after your yelling in the kitchen.”

  The part of Sophie that had played assistant for so long slipped out, because she rushed to reassure him. “Well, she may have her suspicions, but it’ll blow over. And she’s in human resources, so she’s pretty much the dead end of the gossip train.”

  “Ms. Jennings isn’t dealing in suspicions any longer, she’s dealing in facts.”

  “You told her…that we…you know…”

  “Not in those words, no. But I told her that I’d lost something, and I wanted it back. I think she put the pieces together.”

  Sophie tried to process, but her brain didn’t seem to be keeping up with her racing heart.

  “What did you lose?” she whispered.

  “Come on, Sophie,” he said as he stepped closer. “You’re smarter than this.”

  At the reminder of his assessment of her intellect, she stiffened. “I’m not coming back here, Gray. I’m not going to be your disposable assistant, and I sure as hell am not going to tiptoe around, trying not to embarrass you while waiting for you to decide that our relationship has run its course.”

  He moved closer still, and she became captivated by the heat in his eyes. She hadn’t seen this expression before from him, and she felt nervous. So much for her being a people person. She’d never felt so confused.

  “You don’t embarrass me,” he said, reaching for her hand. “You couldn’t. You’re the best part of me.”

  Every self-preserving instinct in her body was screaming at her. Pull back. Run. Kick him in the balls.

  She stayed. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I want you back,” he said simply.

  “As your secretary or bed partner?”

  His eyes flashed angrily. “Don’t.”

  “What else am I supposed to think? You made it perfectly clear that my role in your life was to lie on my back, while you could find any old employee to take care of your stapling.”

  He opened his mouth, but shut it again, looking frustrated. She nearly softened. Like a foolish woman in love, she found it endearing that he was pushing himself so far out of his element for her.

  But she couldn’t relent. Whatever plan he had in store for them would involve rules and boundaries and heartache. It would never work.

  “I have to go,” she said softly.

  He swallowed and nodded. He looked panicked, and she longed to help him with whatever he was struggling with, but he was no longer her personal project to be tweaked and prodded.

  Blinking back tears, she grabbed her box and headed for the door. As far as closure went, it was a total bust, but sometimes cleaner was better.

  “Sophie,” he called hoarsely.

  Keep walking.

  “Don’t, Gray,” she whispered, slowing her steps.

  “Do you love me?”

  The question sounded like it was torn from his throat, from his heart, and she faltered.

  Her tears fell freely now. “You have no right to ask me that. No right.”

  “Do you?” His voice was closer now.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly.

  “It matters,” he said roughly, close enough now to grab her shoulder. “It matters.”

  He turned her toward him, but she sucked in a sob and refused to look at him.

  “Don’t do this,” she begged. “I can’t be what you want.”

  “You are what I want.”

  The desperation in his voice made her look up, clutching the flimsy cardboard box to her like a security blanket. What she saw nearly undid her.

  His eyes were damp and pleading. Please, they said. Please.

  But he remained silent, and she knew he wouldn’t know how to say what was written on his face. He wouldn’t ever be able to say it, and she deserved to hear it.

  She tried to turn again, but he held her still, his throat working in obvious effort.

  “Let me go,” she said quietly. Firmly. She could do this.

  “I can’t.” He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Sophie smiled sadly and pulled away. “I’m not the one for you, Gray. You’re looking for a good-time girl, and I know you think that’s me, but—”

  “Dammit, would you stop talking like that!” he growled like an animal in agony.

  “I want a family!” she said, her voice breaking. “I want a husband who’s proud of the stuff he burns on the grill, and a baby who yanks out my earrings, and a big dog who will probably smell when it rains. You don’t want any of those things!”

  His fingers tightened on her upper arms, and he shook her so hard she dropped the box, the spilled contents lying ignored at their feet. “I’d want them with you.”

  Her heart gave a jolt, and she closed her eyes. He wouldn’t be so cruel as to torture her.

  “I love you, Sophie,” he whispered hoarsely.

  She thought her heart would explode in ecstasy and pain. He couldn’t possibly know what he was doing.

  “Gray, listen—”

  “No, you listen. I think I fell for you somewhere between that damn Las Vegas el
evator and you picking up my little sister from the airport. My feelings hit me over the head when we were in that Goddamn blow-up maze at the company picnic, but I didn’t know what to do, what to say…”

  Sophie’s mind reeled. “But…my job…and you don’t want to get married…”

  “Forget all that,” he said desperately. “You know I’m new at this. Bad at it. And I’ll continue to mess everything up. But you have to give me a chance.”

  Don’t weaken, Sophie. Turn away.

  She didn’t move.

  “You have to,” he said, his voice breaking. “You can leave Brayburn. Or stay. Come to Maui, or not. I don’t care. But you can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

  “No,” she said, her voice breaking. “I won’t. I can’t.”

  His arms closed around her tightly, and she realized how much these past weeks had cost him. And her.

  “What you said about Jessica—”

  Sophie closed her eyes in pain and put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. I never should have said it.”

  “Then you think I’m someone worth liking?”

  “Not exactly…” she said coyly.

  “Loving?” he asked, voice hopeful.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?” she teased.

  “Sophie.” He rested his forehead on hers.

  “I love you,” she said with a wobbly smile. She framed his face with her hands. “I love that you barely know how to smile, and that you care about your siblings more than you possibly know how to express. I love that you totally cheat at Monopoly, and that you hit on your secretaries like a common pervert.”

  The relief in his eyes had her crying all over again.

  “Just one question, Ms. Dalton,” he said, resting his forehead against hers.

  “Yes, Mr. Wyatt?”

  “How much is this going to cost me? I’ve come to learn that you’re a very high-end call girl.”

  Sophie pinched him. “Doesn’t matter. I’m worth it.”

  She felt him smile against her temple. “Yes, you are.”

  EPILOGUE

  I called the restaurant to let them know we’ll be a little late,” Sophie said, hanging up the hotel phone.

  Gray wiggled his eyebrows. “We could be a little later. Make time for some afternoon delight?”

  “You already got a little afternoon delight! Twice. And don’t call it that.”

  He shrugged as he added a gray tie to his gray suit.

  Sophie smiled and shook her head at the monochromatic ensemble. There were some things that couldn’t be changed, even in the course of a seven-month relationship. Gray’s wardrobe was proving to be one of them.

  But the important things had changed.

  Gray was still CEO of Brayburn Luxuries. His new assistant was a tiny, stern woman named Ida who refused to address him as anything other than Mr. Wyatt, no matter how many times he asked her to use his first name. Ida had also removed all of Sophie’s bright decorating choices and replaced them with soothing taupe and ivory accents. Gray’s office was now nothing but a bunch of boring neutrals. Exactly as he liked it.

  Sophie was on her way to getting her teaching degree. She hadn’t decided on a subject or a grade level yet, but as soon as Gray had suggested she’d make a great teacher, she’d known immediately that it was the right fit. It would be a long road getting there, but Sophie had finally found a career path that excited her and that she was proud of.

  She still had a couple years of school ahead, but she already ached for the first day of teaching with a bunch of expectant faces looking up to her. Of course, they’d probably have to call her Ms. Dalton. Good thing she was used to that by now.

  As for her parents…they were trying. They’d even thrown her a congratulatory party when she’d been accepted to Seattle University’s teaching program. Of course, her father hadn’t been able to resist the briefest of lectures on how small teachers’ salaries were, and her mother had given Sophie’s short skirt a panicked look. But overall they were learning to let her be her.

  Brynn too had been supportive of the changes in Sophie’s life, although if Sophie’s life was finally getting on track, her older sister’s seemed to be teetering on the edge of…well Sophie wasn’t sure what exactly. It wasn’t like Brynn had joined a commune or bought a Harley or pierced her belly button, but in the past few months there had been something vaguely off about Brynn. A restless impatience that Sophie had never seen before. She’d tried talking to her sister about it, but Brynn had feigned ignorance. Sophie itched to dig deeper, but she knew firsthand how it felt to have someone meddle in your life, so she was trying to let her sister have her space.

  “What’s with the frown?” Gray asked, tugging at a blonde curl.

  Sophie shook off her concern. “Nothing. Just musing.”

  “There will be no musing in Vegas,” Gray said. “Here, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  She raised an eyebrow as Gray began digging through his suitcase. She never thought she’d hear the word “surprise” come out of Grayson Wyatt’s mouth.

  He turned around with a boyish grin, and Sophie let out a horrified laugh as she saw what he held in his hands.

  “My hooker boots!”

  “It took me forever to find them,” he said, smiling fondly at the cheap, fake leather. “What were you thinking, hiding gems like these under your bed?”

  “Well, gosh, you’re right. They do bring back such fond memories, I should have put them on the mantel.”

  “Is that sarcasm I sense?”

  “From me?” Sophie asked, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her nose into his neck.

  He nibbled her ear for a split second before gently pushing her aside. “None of that, you harlot. Here, put these on.”

  Sophie stared at him. “I am not wearing those to dinner.”

  “Why, you worried about some surly man hitting on you in the elevator?” he asked, giving her bare legs an appreciative glance.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ll be stuck with a surly man, regardless of shoe choice,” Sophie said, reluctantly accepting the boots. “You really want me to wear these? When you said you wanted to go to Vegas to celebrate a year since we first met, I didn’t realize you wanted to actually celebrate the hooker part of it.”

  “I thought I was being sweet,” he said with mock affront. “Don’t women like reliving a couple’s first meeting?”

  “Not when the first meeting involves a near-death experience and ultimate humiliation. And I told you I wanted to stay in one of the tacky hotels. You picked the same boring one as before,” she grumbled as she reluctantly pulled off her black pumps and slipped into the boots. “God, I’d forgotten how uncomfortable these are.”

  “Oh, quit whining,” he said, pulling her out the hotel room door and toward the elevator lobby.

  Gray punched the elevator button and leaned in for a kiss, pulling back when they finally heard the elevator arrival chime.

  “Hey, it’s the same elevator as before!” Sophie said in happy realization. “What are the odds?”

  “One in eight,” he replied, guiding her into the elevator. “Or twelve-point-five percent. There are eight possible elevators, so the chances of us getting this one—”

  “Oh jeez,” she said, cutting him off. “Just when I think you’re finally beginning to understand romance…”

  Suddenly the lights went out, and the elevator jolted to a sudden stop. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sophie said incredulously. “What are the odds of this? You’d think they’d have fixed—Gray, what the hell are you doing down there?”

  Sophie squinted through the dark to find him.

  “Hold on, I have a light,” he grumbled.

  “You carry a flashlight now?” she asked, still struggling to see his figure. “Although I guess it’s not a bad idea at this hotel—”

  She broke off again as a tiny stream of light flicked on. It served as a s
potlight for one very large, very sparkly diamond ring.

  Dimly she could see Gray’s shadow outlined behind it.

  He was on his knee.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, a shaky hand covering her mouth.

  “Marry me,” Gray commanded gruffly.

  “Is that a question?” she asked with a choked laugh.

  “More like a plea,” he said. “Please hurry up and decide. I can’t imagine all the germs on this elevator floor.”

  “You planned this,” Sophie realized in wonder. “You were actually crazy enough to ask them to stall this elevator?”

  “You said you wanted romance.”

  “I can’t believe I’m wearing a miniskirt!” She plucked the ring out of the box and inspected the flawless solitaire diamond.

  “Sophie, if you don’t answer my question, so help me—”

  “Yes!” she burst out. “Of course, yes.”

  “Thank God,” he said with relief. “Do you have any idea how many palms I had to grease to organize this whole debacle—”

  Sophie threw herself at him, both of them falling awkwardly to the ground. “You did this for me,” she said, gazing down at his face in the dark.

  “I’d do anything for you,” he said simply.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  Sophie bit him.

  “Fine. I love you too. If someone would have told me a year ago I’d be in love with a blonde prostitute—”

  She broke off his words with a messy kiss. “How long did you arrange for us to be stuck in a black box together?”

  “I, um, didn’t exactly specify. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to talk you into it.”

  “So we might have some time?” she asked playfully.

  “Probably. I implied that you were a little high-strung, so they’ll probably err on the side of caution and leave us in here a while.”

  “Then I guess it’s convenient that I’m wearing a tiny little outfit.”

  His hand slid up the back of her thigh. “I guess it is.”

  “Wanna make babies?”

  “Will they be quiet and well behaved, and read nonfiction?”