Accidental Fiancé

by R. R. Banks

  I laugh and shake my head. “I don't think I am.”

  Her mouth falls open and her expression changes from one of extreme giddiness to one of pure shock and horror.

  “What are you talking about?” Skyler asks. “You have to. You can't walk that far down the path and then just turn around.”

  “I don't think I can actually have sex with him, Sky.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because, I don't know if I'm into him like that,” I say.

  “You were into him enough to let him go down on you,” she says.

  “Yeah, but –”

  “And you were into him enough that you would have boned him right there in your shop,” she presses.

  “I lost my head for a minute,” I say. “I lost control of myself.”

  She leans forward across the table and takes my hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “Maybe that's what you need, hon,” she says. “Maybe you need to learn to lose control a little bit now and then.”

  I sigh and take a drink of my soda, setting the glass back down and leaning back in the booth. I'm just so damn conflicted right now. Yeah, I enjoyed having Liam go down on me yesterday. I enjoyed it a lot, in fact. And I have no doubts at all that I would have enjoyed having sex with him.

  But, at the same time, I barely know him. Yeah, I'm intrigued by him. I find him very interesting as well as attractive. But, I need more than that to actually sleep with somebody. I need to have a connection with them.

  “Maybe that's your biggest problem,” Skyler says.

  “I have a lot of problems,” I say, “could you narrow it down for me a bit?”

  She grins at me. “Your control,” she says. “You're so bound up and try to control everything inside of you that it's really screwing with your head, hon. You've always been like this and I don’t think it's good for you.”

  “I don't know, Sky,” I say.

  “Maybe, having somebody in your life that challenges that control, that takes it away from you, would be a good thing,” she says. “Or maybe, more importantly, somebody you're willing to give that control to, would be a good thing for you.”

  I look at her and pop a sweet potato fry into my mouth. “And what makes you think Liam is the right guy for that?” I ask.

  “For a couple of reasons –”

  “If you say because he's hot, I'm going to smack you with a french fry.”

  Skyler laughs. “No, that's not what I was going to say – but he is hot,” she says. “What I was going to say though, is because of the way you look when you talk about him. You just get this kind of dreamy look in your eyes. It's something I don't think I've ever seen before. I can tell you're infatuated with the man.”

  “I’m intrigued by him,” I correct her. “Totally different from infatuated.”

  “If you say so,” she says. “More than that though, the simple fact that you let him go down on you, and almost had sex with him – in your shop of all places – tells me that you do have some sort of a connection with him already. That you're more into him than you're letting yourself acknowledge or believe.”

  I let out a long breath and take another drink of my soda. I look at Skyler and then back down at my plate, still trying to process everything that happened, as well as everything she's saying. I honestly don't know what came over me in the shop yesterday. That was so out of character for me that I don't know what to make of it. Or even where to begin figuring it out.

  “I don't know about that,” I say.

  “I do,” she replies. “But, why are you so hesitant about him?”

  I chew the fry in my mouth and swallow before answering. “Well, first of all, I don't even know that he's into me like that.”

  Skyler laughs. “I'd say going down on you in your shop is a pretty good indication that he's into you.”

  “Or an indication that he's just a guy who wants to get laid.”

  “Did he?” she asks, arching an eyebrow. “Get laid?”

  “Well, no,” I say. “Because we were interrupted.”

  “And yet, he didn't stick around and wait for Mrs. James to leave so he could pick up where you left off.”

  “At that point, I wouldn't have,” I say. “I'd come back to my senses.”

  “He didn't know that,” she presses. “For all he knew, once the old lady left, you two would be banging like beasts in the back again. But, he got you off and left.”

  A small smile touches my lips as I think back to what we'd done. Recalling how he made me feel. I remember thinking what a generous lover he seems to be. That he seemed more focused on my pleasure than on his. It's a rarity in men – at least, in my experience. That's what made it stand out all the more in my mind.

  “Do you like him?” Skyler asks me.

  I'm caught off guard by the question and I look at her, my mind racing with a million different thoughts.

  “I really don't know,” I say. “I don't really know him.”

  “You know a little bit,” she says. “You know enough that you were about to shag him.”

  “Which is a pretty basic physiological response to stimuli,” I say.

  She laughs. “Wow, you sure know how to take the sexiness out of things,” she says. “But, the point remains, you are into him enough that you let that damn control you value so much slip. That should tell you something.”

  I shrug. “He's nice,” I say. “He seems like a decent enough guy that I really misjudged in the beginning. But, I can also see that he's got some of that alpha-dog mentality in that I despise.”

  Skyler scoffs again. “You're really grasping at straws, hon,” she says. “He's the head of a large company. He's got to have at least some of that mentality. It comes with the corner office. The question you should be asking yourself is this – is that who he really is? Is he that alpha-dog type? Or is that simply a mask he wears in his career?”

  I shake my head. “I really don't know.”

  “Oh, I think you do,” she says. “I think deep down, you do. You are just so bound and determined to avoid intimacy with anybody, that you're not letting yourself see what's in front of you.”

  “I'm glad you have it all figured out,” I say and laugh.

  “I do have it all figured out,” she says with a smile. “Now, if you'd only listen to me about what's best for you, things would be so much easier.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  I drain the last of my soda and know I need to get back to the shop. Skyler never fails to give me something to think about though. As much as I hate it at times – like now.

  “So?” Skyler asks, a mischievous smirk on her face. “How was he? Did he make your toes curl?”

  “You have no idea,” I reply.

  She squeezes my hand again and is practically bursting at the seams. “I'm so happy for you, Paige.”

  “The thing that blows my mind –”

  “Other than an Earth-shattering orgasm?”

  “Yeah, other than that,” I laugh. “I was really blown away by the fact that his sole focus seemed to be on pleasing me. On my pleasure. He really seemed to be more interested in getting me off than on getting himself off. I've never experienced anything like it before.”

  “Generous lovers like that are amazing,” she says. “And amazingly rare. You should hold on to that one, hon.”

  “Yeah, well, like I said, I don't know what he's thinking or feeling about me,” I say.

  “One way to find out,” she says. “Ask him.”

  “Ask him,” I stare at her.

  “Yeah, ask him.”

  “Please tell me you're kidding me,” I say and smile.

  “Actually, I'm not.”

  “That just seems so high school,” I say and then, in a mocking tone, add, “Gee, Liam, do you like me? Wanna go steady?”

  Skyler laughs but rolls her eyes at me. “Jesus Christ,” she says. “Do you know how many of this world's problems would be solved if people just fucking started talking? If people learned how to
communicate with each other? Gee, where have I heard that before? Wait, wait – it'll come to me.”

  The laughter dies in my throat. She has a point. It's actually something I've railed about plenty of times before. A lot of things would be a lot easier if people remembered how to talk to each other. It's a simple concept that very few people can seem to grasp.

  And now, I have to kick my own ass because I am apparently, one of those people. A rueful grin touches my lips as I look at her.

  “No fair using my own words against me,” I say.

  “All is fair in war and booty calls, baby,” she says. “Talk to him, Paige. Seriously, with the exception of those monks who live in yurts up in the Himalayas, you need to get laid worse than anybody on this planet.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I say. “You always know how to make me feel good.”

  “I do try my best,” she says with a wide smile.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Liam

  I climb off the helicopter and head to the elevator. Stepping inside, I swipe my keycard and push the button, leaning back against the wall as it takes me down to the offices. My mind is filled with a thousand different thoughts and feelings – which, unfortunately, seems to be standard procedure these days.

  It's not a feeling that I particularly care for. I'm a man used to crystal clarity and sound, logical thinking. Having this whirlwind in my head is unsettling – to say the least.

  The elevator doors slide open and I step out into the ADE lobby. I greet our main receptionist and some of the other employees buzzing about. A few of them openly gawk but seem afraid to approach me. I'm sure with the cuts and bruises on my face, I'm quite a sight. Most of the people I see, however, cut a quick glance and then hurry away.

  Judging by the reaction people are having to me, you'd think I looked like a combination of Quasimodo and Attila the Hun. I shrug and make my way down to my office. It is probably best to hide my temporary disfigurement behind closed doors.

  “Good morning, Alice,” I say as I step into the lobby of my office and stop beside her desk. “How're the Words with Friends games going today?”

  “You really need some new material, Mr. Anderson,” she says, looking up from her computer.

  “You make it difficult for me,” I reply. “I know you're not looking at porn, which narrows down the material I can use significantly.”

  “Well, work on it, would you, sir?” she says dryly. “I wasn't expecting you today.”

  “I wasn't planning on being here either,” I say. “I just have a few things I need to handle in the city today.”

  “Given what happened last time you were in the city, I'm surprised you'd want to set foot in Seattle again for a while.”

  “Oh, you heard about that?”

  “Everybody's heard about it, Mr. Anderson,” she says. “It's not often multi-billionaire CEO's are attacked in the street. Things like that tend to make the news.”

  I shrug. “It wasn't that big of a deal, really.”

  “Of course, you'd say that,” she replies.

  I give her a grin. “Of course, I would.”

  “Are you okay?” she asks. “I mean, really.”

  I nod. “I'm fine, Alice,” I reply. “Nothing but a couple of bumps and scrapes. No big deal.”

  She looks at me over her glasses, shooting a pointed look at the bruises I'm sporting with a clear look of skepticism on her face. Between her and Janice, it's almost like I have two mothers running around, ready to baby me at a moment's notice.

  “Honestly, I'm fine,” I say. “The cut on my arm wasn't all that deep. Everything's going to heal just fine. Promise.”

  She looks at me a moment longer and then a soft smile touches her lips. “Just, be careful out there, Mr. Anderson.”

  Alice has never been one who's overly expressive with her emotions. To see her concern for me leaves me a little touched, honestly.

  “Thank you, Alice,” I say. “I appreciate your concern. It means a lot.”

  “Don't get all mushy and sentimental on me, Mr. Anderson,” she says. “I just don't want you to die because the job market is hell for a woman at my age.”

  And she's back. There's the Alice I know and love. I laugh and shake my head as she gives me a small, warm smile. I turn and head toward my office.

  “Oh, I'm expecting Adam shortly,” I say. “He's my only appointment today, so when he gets here, can you just send him in?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you, Alice.”

  I step into my office and close the door. I drop my satchel on the couch and walk over to the windows, gazing out at the skyline of downtown Seattle beyond. The day is partly sunny, with fat, white fluffy clouds floating across the azure sky above. It's a gorgeous day, actually and there's part of me that wishes I was out there taking advantage of it. Hiking with Hemingway or just taking a stroll through the Pike Place Market. Anything would beat being cooped up on a day like this.

  Honestly, what really sounds appealing to me is to be with Paige, maybe out on a picnic or something. It sounds more than appealing, actually. It's been a couple of days since our little tryst in her shop and I can't stop thinking about it. Or her. The idea of being out among the tall trees, making love to her under this gorgeous Washington sky – the mere thought of it is enough to get me hard.

  It's a nice thought, but given that it's been a couple of days and I haven't heard a peep from her, makes me think that she's regretting it. Or perhaps, she's not as into me as I want to believe. I don't know what's going through her mind. All I know is that there's something about her I can't shake. Something that draws me to her and won't let me go.

  It's a feeling I'm not used to. One that I've never experienced before – not even with Brittany. I was madly in love with Brittany, but I never felt the sheer compulsion to be with her that I do with Paige. It's maddening because it's so unexpected. That woman has a hold on me that honestly, freaks me out a little bit.

  I need to put the situation and Paige out of my mind though. There is work to be done. I turn and walk back to my desk, dropping down into my seat and fire up my computer. I sort through the emails and see nothing of real import, so I move on to the next item on my agenda.

  I type out a quick email to Ted, Brubaker, and the rest of the concerned parties, putting together a preliminary schedule for demolition and groundbreaking for the multi-use structure we're building. I actually have a few new ideas that popped into my head for the building and I want to meet with everybody before we do anything, just to feel them out and get their opinion.

  With that done, I look over some paperwork and sign what is required to get the crew's clearance to work on a few projects down in Oregon and California. I look up at the sound of my office door opening and nod when I see Adam stepping through.

  “How are you doing, Liam?” he asks as he closes the door behind him.

  I stand up and walk around my desk, shaking his hand. “Doing well, thanks,” I say. “Please, come on in.”

  I lead him over to the couches and he takes a seat, dropping his bag at his feet, as I walk over to the sideboard and pour us a couple of drinks. I walk back and hand him his glass before taking my seat on the sofa across from him. We silently toast one another and take a sip. He smiles and looks at the amber colored liquid admiringly.

  “I'll make sure to get you a bottle or two for your birthday,” I say with a grin.

  “I'd appreciate that a lot,” he says.

  Holding my glass, I lean back on the sofa and cross my legs. As much as I like Adam, this isn't a social call. We have some business to discuss, and I thought it would be better-handled face-to-face rather than with a phone call.

  “So, I talked to the PD,” he says. “A Detective Matthews was assigned to your case.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I spoke to him briefly,” I say. “He took my statement and said he'd get back to me. That was days ago, and I haven't heard a peep.”

  “Right,” Adam says. “I talked t
o my contact down in the crime lab and they ran the fingerprints on the knife, but it came up empty.”

  “Damn.”

  “That was my first reaction too,” he says. “But, I got a copy of the print card and took it to another friend of mine. I rolled the dice, hoping that maybe, just because your attacker wasn't in a criminal database, maybe he'd pop up in another one.”

  “And?” I ask as Adam takes another sip of his drink. “Did he pop up somewhere else?”

  Adam nods. “He did indeed,” he says. “US Army, actually. His name is – are you ready for this? – Travis Waltham.”

  “You are fucking kidding me.”

  Adam shakes his head. “Serious as a heart attack,” he says. “Your former wife's boyfriend is the one who attacked you in that alley.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “According to what I was able to find out, Waltham was dishonorably discharged after sixteen months of service for striking a superior officer. Apparently, he beat the guy so bad, he put him in the hospital. The guy almost died, from what I was told. Did six months in the brig and then they booted him out of the service.”

  I take a long swallow of my drink and stand up. The anger within me is bubbling up once more and I start pacing my office, trying to diffuse some of it. It can't be a coincidence that on the night Brittany tracked me down at Grady's, that her boyfriend – one with a violent, criminal past – attacked me in that alley.

  “Son of a bitch,” I repeat, my voice tight with anger. “They were right.”

  “Who was right?”

  I turn and look at Adam. “Paige and my brother, Brayden,” I say. “They both tried to tell me it wasn't a coincidence. They both thought Brittany had something to do with the attack.”

  “Sounds like they were right,” he says. “Who's Paige? If you don't mind my asking.”

  At the mention of her name, a flood of memory fills my mind, completely unbidden. The sound of her voice lingers in my mind. And all of the sudden, my senses are overwhelmed by the scent and taste of her. The feel of her skin against mine.

  I clear my throat and try to push it all away. I can't afford to indulge in my memories right now. There's too much shit going on that needs my full and complete attention. Like the fact that my soon-to-be ex-wife is probably trying to kill me.