Every Little Piece of Me (Orchid Valley Book 1)

by Lexi Ryan

Kace rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that’s what we’re dealing with here, Smithy. I think maybe she’s just ready to settle down. In which case . . .” He reaches for his drink and takes a long slug then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

  I set my jaw. “Spit it out, Kace.”

  “Fuck, man. I don’t think I should say.”

  “Say what?” Smithy cocks his head to the side as he studies Kace.

  “Out with it,” I mutter.

  “Is this a pride thing? Like, you need to prove you can have the girl you could only have in secret back in the day?” When I don’t give that bullshit the benefit of a response, he goes on. “Because if that’s all this is, let her be. She could be happy with Julian. He’s a solid dude, and he works with her life here. Do you really want to be the reason that all falls apart?”

  I can’t fault Kace for asking. I haven’t been in touch, and for all he knows, I’ve gotten my money from screwing over everyone I can. But it still burns that he thinks I’d ever put my ego ahead of Brinley’s happiness. “It’s not about pride.” I blow out a breath. “If it were about pride, I would’ve left town already.”

  “Okay,” Kace says, nodding. “I respect that.”

  Smithy props his elbows on the table and leans forward, his gaze intense. “So what is it about?”

  “I’m in love with her, you idiot.”

  Smithy grins. “Damn good thing she’s not pregnant again, huh?”

  Smithy’s words hit me with the force of a Mack truck.

  Kace frowns at me over his beer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I stare at Smithy. “You said good thing she’s not pregnant again, which implies she’s been pregnant before.”

  Smithy’s eyes go wide and he looks at Kace, who just shakes his head.

  “Brinley has a kid? Julian’s?” Jesus. That would explain a lot.

  Smithy opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, so I turn to Kace.

  “Her name’s Cami, and she’s not Julian’s,” he says, but when I open my mouth, he holds up a hand. “Any other questions you have, you need to take to Brinley.” He gives Smithy a hard look and says, “This is Brinley’s to tell.”

  Brinley has a kid. A little girl. Brinley has a little girl and is engaged to be married to some guy who’s clearly happy to step into the role of Cami’s father.

  “You okay?” Smithy asks.

  I blink at him. My heart pumps too hard and too fast, and my chest aches under the weight of all my unanswered questions.

  I don’t want to give a single shit about this Julian guy or what he thinks he can give Brinley, but suddenly it feels like Kace’s warning is right. I thought I was coming here to claim my bride, but suddenly it feels a lot more like I’m here to upend her life.

  Chapter Six

  Brinley

  I’m curled up on the couch when the door creaks open, and two sets of heels tap toward the living room. I don’t get up. I figure I only have another half-hour, max, before Cami gets home, which means only thirty minutes left to sulk and feel sorry for myself. I’m going to make the most of it.

  “Oh, fuckmydiet it smells so good in here.” I know it’s Savannah, because no one else says “fuck my diet” like it’s one word and a working part of their vocabulary.

  I open one eye to see her plopping brown paper bags on the coffee table. Someone’s been to the liquor store.

  “You don’t need to diet,” Abbi says, stopping by the couch to toe off her shiny pink ballet flats. “You’re perfect.”

  “Um, obviously,” Savvy says, “but ‘perfect’ takes effort for most of us.”

  I smile despite myself and sit up.

  Savvy pulls bottle after bottle from the paper bags. I’m pretty sure she bought the whole liquor store. “Not all of us can be like you and have a hot little bod, despite never visiting the gym.”

  “Aw, I didn’t know you thought I was hot,” Abbi says. “Thanks, Savvy. You’re a sexy kitten too.”

  Savvy winks. “Meow.”

  I nod to the collection of booze covering my coffee table. “Are you going to open a bar in my living room, or were you just planning to give me alcohol poisoning?” Baileys, Godiva liqueur, peppermint schnapps, vanilla vodka, and Kahlua.

  “I need all of this to make the martinis we’re having tonight,” Savvy says. “I tried one for the first time in this little beach town in Michigan.”

  “There’s a beach in Michigan?” Abbi asks, already reaching for the shaker.

  “Um, yeah. Lake Michigan?” Savvy shakes her head. “At least you’re pretty.”

  Abbi flips her off, and Savvy blows her a kiss.

  “Anyway, the bartender called it the Kitchen Sink Martini, but I thought it tasted like the kind of thing you need to drink when you’re heartbroken, so I call them Heartbreak Martinis.”

  “I’m not heartbroken. I’m stressed,” I snap, but then soften when my bitchiness makes my friends give me puppy-dog eyes full of sympathy. “Sorry, but there’s a difference.”

  Savvy points at me. “There is. And feeling stressed and not heartbroken when your wedding might fall apart should tell you something.” Spinning on her heel, she heads to the kitchen and pulls my martini glasses off the shelf before filling a bowl with ice.

  “Did I miss it?” someone calls from the door.

  “Is that Stella?” I ask. I swear the stress and worry I’ve been carrying all day lift from my shoulders. My girls are here. My family.

  “Of course it is!” Stella strolls into the room in a little white-and-yellow sundress with a flared skirt and bright orange heels. Oversized rock-star sunglasses hold back her red hair. I haven’t seen her for a week, and I swear, my heart swells at the sight of her. She hoists a grocery bag from her shoulder and into the air like an offering when she sinks onto the couch beside me. “I brought the junk food.”

  Abbi wanders into the kitchen and peeks under the foil-wrapped lasagna pan cooling on the stove. “Junk food, sugary booze, and lasagna.” She rubs her hands together. “Life is good.”

  “Who made lasagna?” Stella asks.

  “Julian,” Savvy says. She plops the bowl of ice in the center of the coffee table and positions the glasses around it. “How are you, Stell? How was Jamaica? Full of fun and hot sex?”

  “I’m . . . single.” Stella shrugs.

  “What?” the rest of us say in unison.

  Stella shakes her head. “You know what? Let’s not do me. We can do me another night with another collection of booze and food. Tonight is about Brinley.”

  Savvy’s smile falls away. “What happened?”

  “Talk to us, Stella,” I say. She was so into this guy that she’d been living with him, even though the commute from Atlanta is a bitch. And suddenly it’s over?

  “It’s nothing.” Stella lifts her chin in a familiar stubborn gesture then points at me. “Focus.”

  “Well, you look beautifully sun-kissed, whatever else is going on with you, bitch,” Savvy says, waving to the fresh freckles dotted across Stella’s shoulders and cheeks.

  “Aww, thanks, baby boo.”

  I sag into the couch. Selfishly, I want hours with my girls, but that’s not in the cards tonight. “You guys did all this, and Cami’s going to be home in no time.”

  “No, she’s not,” Abbi calls from the kitchen. “My brother’s on his way over. He’s going to take her out for dinner and ice cream with Hope.”

  Abbi’s brother, Kace, has been friends with my cousin Smithy since high school. He and Stella’s brother, Dean, are as much family to Cami and me as these girls are. Kace has a four-year-old daughter Cami adores, and this certainly wouldn’t be the first time Cami hung out with them for a couple of hours.

  “Thanks, Abbi,” I say, knowing she’s the one who arranged it.

  “So that means Kace is going to be here later?” Stella asks, waggling her brows.

  “Stella!” Abbi abandons the lasagna to stomp into the living room and wave a finger at her. �
��He’s still an emotional wreck from his divorce. He’s in no place to be seduced.”

  Stella presses a manicured hand to her chest. “I swear, you climb into bed with a guy one time . . .”

  Savvy cackles, and I feel even lighter. These girls.

  “Lord help us,” Abbi says.

  Savvy rolls her eyes and gives Abbi a pointed look. “Kace can handle himself. He’s a big boy.”

  “Yeah, he is,” Stella says under her breath.

  Savvy guffaws, and I bite back my smile.

  Abbi shakes her head and grabs the bottle of vodka from the table. “You drive me to drink, woman,” she mutters, and we all laugh.

  I scan the piles of snack food Stella’s pulling from the bag. Doritos, donuts, Milano cookies, and a box of Godiva chocolates. “I’m pretty sure we have enough here for all of us to have an emotional breakdown and still have leftovers.”

  Stella kicks off her heels and tucks her feet under her on the couch. “Someone catch me up.”

  “What do you want to know?” I’m dreading any kind of recap, because every time we run down the facts on the mess that is my life, I feel like a bigger idiot.

  Stella opens the bag of Doritos and passes them to me. “The text from Savvy said, ‘Julian’s being a dick. Marston back in the picture. Intervention in thirty.’”

  I turn to glare at Savvy. “Really, Savvy? Intervention?”

  Savvy takes the shaker from Abbi and drops ice into it with a clunk. “Seemed appropriate.”

  “Weren’t you going to be on vacation until tomorrow?” I ask Stella.

  Stella sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. “I left his ass at the resort and flew home early.”

  “You left him?” Abbi screeches.

  Stella rolls her shoulders back and ignores the question. “So, Julian? Marston? And I’m assuming y’all mean Marston Rowe, as in high-school Marston? As in hotel-mogul Marston?”

  “He’s not a hotel mogul.” I grab the cookies. Trainer Matt can kiss it. “He’s a consultant.”

  “Whatever. The interview I saw with him and his business partner in Forbes made it clear he’s hot shit, whatever he’s doing,” Stella says.

  “He is hot shit,” I say, giving Savvy a pointed look. “And his hot-shit job means he won’t be around long, so he’s not ‘back in the picture’ so much as visiting the picture. Briefly.”

  “Or until you get a divorce,” Savvy says.

  “Wait.” Stella hops off the couch and the bag of Doritos falls to her feet. “Why are you planning on divorcing Julian before you even marry him?”

  “Before I marry Julian, I need to divorce Marston,” I say, and she blinks at me, her jaw unhinged. “Apparently, I got drunk in Vegas and we got married. The engagement ring I found on my finger the next morning? Turns out it was a wedding ring.”

  “How long have you known this?” Abbi asks, plopping down into a chair across from me.

  I sigh. “Since he cornered me in the hallway at Smithy’s last night.” Was that just last night? Longest day ever.

  She bows her head, and I can practically see her talking herself out of being mad at me. “You’ve had so many chances to talk to me since then.”

  “I’m sorry, Ab. I’m kind of a mess right now.”

  She nods. “But you’ve told Julian?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And how’s he handling it?” Stella asks. Stella, the only one who doesn’t know my reasons for agreeing to marry Julian.

  “Not well.” I pop a cookie in my mouth to buy myself some time. When I swallow, I say, “He’s partly justified in his anger, but partly just being an ass.”

  Savvy arches a brow. “Sounds like a good reason to cut ties with him and stay married to Marston.”

  “Savvy,” I groan.

  “You’re already married, goober. You don’t need to marry Julian anymore. Collect your trust and end this sham of a relationship.”

  I open my mouth to explain, but Stella holds up a hand. “Wait. Why are you acting like one husband’s as good as any? Like, I get that she and Marston have history—seriously, I was there—but she’s engaged to Julian for a reason. The trust is just a silver lining.” She studies my face for a beat, then frowns. “Isn’t it?”

  These girls are my family, and I don’t like keeping secrets from them. But I’ve been keeping one major secret from Stella. She’s been busy with Bobby, so we haven’t been spending as much time together, but that wasn’t the real reason I didn’t confide in her. I knew she wouldn’t agree with my choice. Stella might be a ballbuster, but deep down she’s a romantic. She would want me to marry for love—nothing more, nothing less. “Julian knows I needed to be married to access my trust, and it turned out one of his investments wasn’t going to pan out unless he was married. Remember Ms. Hilton from high school?” I ask Stella, who nods. “She owned an apartment complex with her husband their whole marriage, and she’s determined to sell it to a married couple, not just ‘some slick single guy.’”

  Stella nods slowly, like she’s trying to focus on someone speaking a language she can just barely understand. “Okaaaay . . .”

  “So a couple of weeks before my birthday, Julian suggested we enter into a . . . marriage of convenience.”

  “Like, in a romance novel?” Stella says. “Honest to Christ, I didn’t think that shit actually happened in real life.”

  “I know. And I really thought about it before agreeing. But the truth is, we work great together.”

  Stella glares at Savvy, then Abbi. “You two knew about this? And you let her do it?”

  Abbi hangs her head. “She’s stubborn.”

  “You guys, stop,” I say. “I’m not marrying a stranger. I care about Julian. He cares about me. We’ve been friends for years and . . . well, doesn’t it mean something that I always end up back in his bed?”

  “Yeah, it means he’s familiar dick,” Stella says. “You don’t marry familiar dick.”

  Abbi snort-laughs. “Oh my God, she’s right.”

  Savvy shrugs then pours her sugary chocolate concoction between two glasses. “Actually, that makes a lot of sense.”

  “Excuse me,” I say, snatching one of the drinks from the table. “Can someone please tell me what familiar dick means?”

  Abbi sighs. “You know, the guy you always call when you want sex—not because it’s particularly mind-blowing but because he’s a sure thing and you don’t have to worry about him turning out to be some psycho. Familiar dick. It’s not great dick, but it’ll do.”

  “Sounds like a campaign slogan,” Stella says, lips twitching into a smirk.

  I take a moment to direct my best “upper-management scowl” at each of my friends, but they erupt into laughter. “You guys are the worst.”

  “We’re just jealous,” Savvy says. “What I wouldn’t give for a little familiar dick in my life. Hell, I’d settle for mediocre dick at this point.”

  There’s a knock at the door, then the sound of heavy steps coming toward us. “It’s just me, Brin,” Kace calls.

  Stella turns to Abbi. “Speaking of mediocre dick.”

  Abbi throws a pillow at her face and Stella catches it. “I cannot believe you just said that. Yuck.”

  The room goes quiet as Kace enters. He has the same dark hair as his younger sister, but the resemblance ends there. Where Abbi is all feminine sweetness and curves, her brother is all masculine scruff and muscle. Testosterone drips off this guy. If he weren’t Mr. Good Guy, I would’ve definitely enjoyed that during my wilder days. “What’s up, ladies?”

  Stella presses the pillow against her face and snickers.

  “Not much, Kace,” I say, peering around him. “Where’s Hope?”

  “She’s at Mom’s still. We’re actually going over there for dinner and dessert, if that’s okay with you. Mom would love to see Cami.”

  Again, I’m buoyed by that lightness that comes with having friends who truly support me. “Of course. Thank you so much. Cami will love it.”

/>   “Anytime.” He waves a hand to the drinks and food filling the coffee table. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Sex-toy party,” Stella says, turning in her seat and grinning up at her old crush.

  Kace’s cheeks redden, and he coughs. “Hey, Stella.” I shouldn’t be delighted by how uncomfortable he gets around her, but I can’t help it.

  Stella grins. “Next time, we’ll get you a sitter and you can join us.”

  Abbi shoots her a look. “Behave, Stella.”

  Stella shrugs and gives her the sweetest smile. “But I don’t know how.”

  “So this has nothing to do with Marston being back in town?” Kace asks.

  I stiffen. I love Kace, but I’m beginning to feel like too many people know my business. “What have you heard?”

  “I saw him at Smithy’s. When I asked him why he was in town, he said he was here for you.”

  The girls aww in chorus, and I want to hide under a rock. They’re not making this any easier.

  He arches a brow. “But you’re still marrying Hallison, right?”

  I give my friends a death glare. “That’s right.”

  “I’m home,” Cami calls from the front door.

  Relief washes over Kace’s face. Poor guy. Every bit of this conversation makes him uncomfortable.

  “Kace!” Cami says, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Where’s Hope?”

  He musses her hair. “At Nana Matthews’. Want to go over there and have dinner with them?”

  Cami beams. “Mom, can I?”

  “Yes, sweetie. Have fun. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

  As if just noticing the other girls, Cami goes around the living room, running the circuit of hugs to her honorary aunts. “Okay,” she says to Kace. “We can go now.”

  “I’ll see you all later,” he says. He turns toward the door then stops with a grimace and throws me a wary look. “Listen, I don’t know what’s between you and Rowe, but you two should probably clear the air if nothing else.” Kace holds my gaze for a long beat. “See you in a couple of hours.” Then he follows Cami out.

  When the front door clicks shut behind them, Abbi tosses another pillow at Stella. “I don’t want to know anything about my brother’s skills in the bedroom, thankyouverymuch.”