NO LIMIT (7-Stud Club Book 2)

by Christ Ridgway

  Because she’d caught sight of Eli and his date at the very instant of their meeting, or so she’d surmised, watching him shake hands with the attractive woman and then with the little boy at her side.

  Stupid, that the presence of the child had shaken her so. Over the course of the day, she’d become convinced she’d been wrong to believe herself in love with Eli. First off, she barely knew the man. Secondly, what experience did she have with love anyway?

  From the beginning she’d been aware of her little crush on him and it seemed a couple—okay, more—orgasms had given her infatuation some added bells, whistles, and sparkling fairy dust. That’s all. Still, seeing him with another single mom and her son, when he’d been so adamant that was the antithesis of his bachelor break requirements…stung.

  They reached the counter and she gave Will the go-ahead. He had a wife and child himself, and was eager to get home to them. After he placed his order, it was her turn, and then they moved aside to make way for the people behind them. Noting that Eli had joined the long line, Sloane purposefully chose to wait at a distance from the pick-up counter and for added insurance, turned her back so she wouldn’t be forced to acknowledge her housemate.

  Fortunately, Will didn’t seem to notice or at least didn’t comment upon her maneuvering. He stayed close, engaging with Paige about her cork doll. Such a nice guy.

  Eli was a nice guy too, and she wasn’t any more truly enamored with him that she was with her work colleague. Right?

  Okay, there were the luscious kisses and the light-bending orgasms on Eli’s side, but that was just sex. Just. Sex.

  Everybody knew not to conflate sexual fulfillment with an emotional attachment.

  And if she hadn’t known before, she’d certainly learned after her disastrous marriage not to attach herself to a man for hollow reasons.

  “Did I tell you I talked to Alice?” Will asked now.

  Sloane rounded on him. “What?”

  “She phoned this morning. She said she unexpectedly had a couple of reception bars so checked in.”

  Why had their boss called Will? But he did have the more senior position in the firm and Alice had no way of knowing Sloane’s residential issues, as she hadn’t shared them with Will. But now she could rectify that. “I should call her myself,” she said, her spirits lifting as she began to dig into her purse for her phone.

  “Don’t bother. She expected to be out of range again at their desert campground and I lost her while we were talking. But they’re having a great vacation and will be back in the next couple of days or so…definitely in time for Paige’s party, she told me.”

  “Right,” Sloane said, her mood lowering a notch. “I can speak with her then.” Still, she saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Soon she’d be back on her own, and away from Eli King and whatever minor sway he held over her.

  Then she heard her name called and Sloane laughed when Paige performed another little hop-skip. With a hot-from-the-oven pizza waiting, the world couldn’t help but appear brighter.

  Will took his selection and left for home, while Paige insisted on staying to eat theirs at one of the food hall tables. She couldn’t blame the child for wanting to soak up the lively atmosphere, but she found them a corner table and sat across from her daughter with her back to the room—acting as a screen between Paige and the rest of the space. No need to risk a chance encounter with her housemate and his companions. For all she knew, Eli and his date and her child had ordered their food to go, but she didn’t want Paige catching sight of Eli and doing something…foolish.

  Sloane didn’t trust her feckless heart, either.

  Between bites of food and sips from their drinks, Sloane listened to her daughter chatter about her upcoming birthday party. At almost four, this was the first year Paige really understood that the celebrating would all be for her. They’d planned on rolled tacos and bean burritos from their favorite Mexican place, a cooler of water and juices, a piñata and a couple of other games, then cupcakes to conclude the festivities. She’d thought to make them herself, but on a whim that day had called the fancy bakery that made Paige’s eyes sparkle on every visit. They promised to wow the little girl on her big day.

  Even Sloane couldn’t help a little wiggle of anticipation.

  Once their slices were consumed, Sloane tossed the remains of the meal into a nearby garbage can and then helped her daughter from her booster seat.

  Her feet hit the floor and Paige leaned left to peer around her mother. “There,” she said, pointing her little finger.

  There…what? Had she spotted Eli? And had he spotted them?

  “It’s not polite to point,” Sloane said automatically. She glanced around without turning her head, seeking a discreet exit. “What do you see?” Who?

  “The aunt,” Paige said. “The aunt with chocolate.”

  “Oh.” Sloane glanced back, confirming the sighting. Rona Dunlap stood near the center of the food hall. Dressed in a black skirted business suit and holding a pen and notebook in hand, she appeared to be scanning the crowd.

  As if Sloane called her name, the older woman’s gaze found her. Rona gave a start of surprise, then waved and strode over in a pair of elegant black heels, the sound of them clicking against the textured concrete floor lost in the noise of the crowd.

  But Sloane and Paige’s corner offered some quiet and she waited for the woman to get within range before offering a greeting and a polite smile. “Hello. You’re in town again.”

  Rona agreed with a brisk nod and then another for Paige. “The owners of the food hall are clients. Business is brisk tonight. Did you enjoy your visit?”

  “We did, it’s our first visit. Paige and I liked the pizza and I guess the noisiness proves its popularity.”

  Rona nodded again. “Everything still on for the party Saturday?” Now she aimed a smile at Paige.

  “It is.” Sloane slung her purse over her shoulder, aware her daughter’s bedtime was fast approaching. “You’ll make it?”

  “I plan to, and Dave,” she said, naming her husband.

  “Good.” Sloane glanced at Paige. “We need to get to a bath and bed—”

  “Sloane.” Rona put up a hand. “Mom will be in town tomorrow morning.”

  “I know. We’re already scheduled to meet at the park.” They’d exchanged texts and she’d prepped Paige with photos of her grandparents and a reminder of how much they were looking forward to being in the little girl’s company.

  “She hasn’t changed her mind,” Rona said quietly.

  Pizza turned to lead in Sloane’s stomach. She glanced down at her daughter again, whose attention was focused once more on her cork doll as she danced it through the air. “Not here. Not now.”

  “You need to be aware of it,” Rona insisted.

  “Okay,” she said, as a new uneasiness crept over her. The recent cordial communications she’d exchanged with Diane had led Sloane into thinking the older woman had abandoned her idea of guardianship or had never been serious about it at all. Sloane shoved back her hair. “It’s just…I’m not really prepared—”

  “That’s what she’s counting on,” Rona said. “And she knows you’re alone and have no one in your corner. She’ll take advantage of your vulnerability.”

  You’re alone and have no one in your corner. A searing heat and pressure built behind Sloane’s eyes.

  “Ow, Mommy,” Paige complained. “Don’t hold my hand so hard.”

  “Sorry, baby,” she said, easing her grip, then addressed the older woman. “Rona, thank you again for warning me.” But the anxiety now overwhelming her barely allowed in a breath, let alone a strategy for how to cope with the threat. “I—”

  “Hey,” a man’s voice interrupted. A man’s hand landed on her back. Eli.

  Sloane half-turned to him. “Um…”

  Before she could think what to say or do, Paige leaped into his arms. “Look, E. Look, I made a dolly. What should I name her?”

  He managed the bu
rden of a near four-year-old easily, boosting her onto his hip and giving serious consideration to the question. “Corky?”

  Page mouthed the word, looking from him then back at the little creature. “I like it.”

  “Good.” Eli’s free hand slid to Sloane’s shoulder and he nudged her closer to his body. “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m, uh, fine. We were just on our way out and ran into—”

  “I know Rona,” he said easily, then smiled at the other woman. “How are you?”

  At her affirmative reply, he glanced down at Sloane. “She’s done some work on a couple of promotional campaigns for King’s Nursery.”

  “She’s Paige’s aunt.”

  “Ah.” He nodded.

  “But we were just on our way.” Sloane looked to her daughter. “Weren’t we, baby?”

  “I’m leaving too,” Eli said, his arm still slung across Sloane’s shoulders. “We can walk out together.”

  Sloane’s quick survey of the area revealed no date and no child. Hmm. “Okay,” she agreed. “Rona, nice to see you again. We’re looking forward to having you at the Saturday party.”

  “Yes. I’ll be there.” The older woman wore a speculative expression as she looked between Sloane and Eli. “This will make a difference, Sloane,” she said in an approving tone. “Mom and Dad knew Eli’s parents, and they know Eli. This could make a real difference.”

  Sloane stilled. Oh, no. From that expression and those words, it was obvious Rona had made a very wrong assumption. “Um…”

  But the trill of a cell phone shifted the other woman’s attention, and she pulled the device from her skirt pocket and put it to her ear. Sketching a wave, she walked off, obviously looking for even quieter pastures.

  So before Sloane had a chance to explain to Paige’s aunt or to Eli, he was steering them out the exit. They separated to climb into separate cars, and she drove away, wondering how to address Rona’s cryptic comments.

  Maybe Eli hadn’t noticed, though that seemed unlikely. So maybe she could put Paige in a bath and then into bed, avoiding the man she herself had been in bed with the night before. Upon bestowing the ritual three good night kisses to her daughter, she could slip into her own room and seek the oblivion of sleep, avoiding all sticky questions.

  Because surely Eli wanted to know what Rona had been implying.

  And then there was that problem plaguing her. If Sloane wasn’t in love with the man, then what feelings did she hold for him, because something was there. It had been in that warm rush when he’d come upon them at the food hall, and in the way her tight chest had immediately eased at his touch, in the comfort granted when he’d simply asked, You okay?

  Yes, taking to her pillow instead of providing or seeking answers to those uncomfortable inquiries sounded like a very wise plan indeed.

  So she followed through, changing out of her work clothes, helping Paige in the bath and then into pajamas, finally settling her daughter under the covers and watching her drift toward sleep. Then, widening Paige’s bedroom door to step into the hall, Sloane came face-to-chest with a living, breathing obstacle to the completion of her scheme.

  Because Eli effectively shut down her notion of escape with three simple words. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Sloane stared up at him, the hall light finding gold threads in his brown hair and highlighting his cheekbones and the straight blade of his nose. His chin tilted downward and she looked into his eyes and their brown had a golden light in them too.

  She ordered her feet to move away, to move her to a safe distance, but from here she could feel his warmth and breathe in his scent…breathe in Eli, and it buoyed her heart and made her skin flush. Her hand itched to reach out for his. To hold on.

  “Love?” he prompted.

  Love. There was no doubting it now or wishing it away. She could have known him for five minutes or five years and it would be the same. Of course there was no reasoning with it or understanding where it came from or why it dropped upon a person without warning. No one had figured that out with any certainty.

  So, yes, Sloane could absolutely say she was in love with him, but she’d never be able to explain how she knew, not when her experience of someone caring for her was so limited. And didn’t that truth make her ache?

  “Sloane.” His voice lowered. “You’re going to have to answer me. What’s going on?”

  Drawing in a long breath, she accepted she couldn’t ignore him completely. But though she might not have a lot, she did have her dignity. So whatever she revealed…well, it couldn’t be the whole truth. Nothing could prompt her to divulge the true state of her heart.

  Chapter 12

  Eli followed Sloane down the stairs to the kitchen and watched her set the kettle on the stove to boil. “Tea?” she asked him.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Answers.”

  With a grimace, she crossed to grab a mug and a tea bag. Then she focused on the kettle, which, of course, extended the time it took before whistling.

  The silence got to her, he could tell, because she sent him a sidelong look then commented in a casual tone, “Your date ended early.”

  “Her boy—”

  “That was her son, then?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t know until I met them that she had a child.” And he’d made the claim, going into his bachelor spring break, that single moms were far outside his range of interest. Shit, he thought with disgust. Could he have sounded more dickish?

  Eli cleared his throat. “He…Brandon…the evening didn’t end because of him, though. Well, it was because of her son, but…”

  The kettle’s shriek saved him from further explanation. Or so he thought.

  Once she’d made her cup of tea, she leaned against the counter and looked at Eli over the rim. “You were saying?”

  Wait. Wasn’t she supposed to be saying? He frowned at her, but then got distracted by thinking of how Sloane had looked in the food hall, in that that dress and heels. Professional. Almost untouchable. A contrast to the jeans and T-shirt girl in front of him now, the one who had let him fuck her, right in this kitchen, right on that very countertop.

  Shit, that took his mind on yet another side path. How could he ever sell this place, he wondered for a moment, when the cabinets had been witness to something so raw and passionate? Maybe he should burn them first.

  “Eli?”

  He blinked, backtracking through his thought processes. “Okay. They went home because the boy had neglected to mention a school project due tomorrow. He has to show and tell about something he collected.”

  Sloane frowned. “What if he doesn’t have a collection?”

  “Welcome to parenthood of school-age children,” Eli said, trying to break it to her gently. “Though it doesn’t have to be too complicated. Plastic dinosaurs would do. A friend of Lynnie’s once shared a box full of broken shoelaces.”

  Looking perplexed, Sloane opened her mouth.

  “I never asked why,” Eli said, then smiled. “Though it makes me think I could have loaned Brandon those used soccer shoes.”

  Sloane narrowed her eyes. “You suggested something else then.”

  He blew on his nails then polished them on his shirt. “Well, yeah. And I’m a little proud of it.”

  Her lips twitched. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

  “Dirt.”

  “Dirt?”

  “Dirt. Collected from various places in the vicinity of their condo—from an outside planter, from the pot of an indoor plant, from the playground on the corner. Like that.”

  “Dirt,” she repeated again, as if still trying to puzzle it out.

  “Quick to gather, simple to store…you only need some zippered sandwich bags.”

  “Wow,” Sloane said, and he thought he detected admiration in her gaze.

  “Believe me, it will be a hit, especially if he manages to capture a bug or two as well.” He smiled.

  She smiled back. Yeah, admiring.

  “I’ve l
earned so much,” she said.

  “Stick with me, kid,” he replied, and instantly regretted it. “I mean—”

  “I know what you mean…or don’t mean.” She sipped from her tea, then set it aside. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

  At her first step, he blocked her path. “Not so fast. Not before you fill me in on the situation with Rona.”

  She looked him straight in the eye. “You don’t want to know.”

  He hesitated. Right. But… “She mentioned my name. My parents.”

  On a sigh, Sloane looked down at her bare feet, the picture of reluctance. Then she glanced up at him. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Another sigh. “Rona thinks her parents—Paige’s grandparents, that is, who arrive tomorrow to visit Sawyer Beach for a couple of weeks—are interested in getting custody of her.”

  “Custody of Paige?” He stared. “What? How?”

  “They’ve moved to Florida and love their granddaughter. They…want her.”

  “She’s your daughter.”

  Sloane nodded. “And the daughter of their deceased son.”

  “But…” He shook his head, appalled. He knew the Dunlaps slightly, as they’d contracted through the nursery to redo their landscaping a few years back. It had been Allison’s idea—borne out of a class project when she was a sophomore in high school—to offer a design-and-plant service through King’s and he hoped some day she might expand and run that arm if it suited her. “Why do they think they can take her from you?”

  Sloane shrugged. “They have the money to pursue it.”

  That didn’t mean that they should, for God’s sake. “Sloane—”

  “It could all be talk. And it’s certainly nothing for you to worry about.”

  “No, but…” He replayed Rona’s speculative glance, then her words. “What did Rona mean about something making a real difference?”

  Sloane waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, but Eli caught it midair, and held tight. “Talk to me.”

  On another sigh, she extricated herself from his hold and crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her hands beneath them. “I’m guessing she made the assumption that we’re…connected. That your perceived presence in my life will cause Diane and Jeffrey to think twice about their plans.”