by S. J. McGran
One I desperately need today.
Grabbing my bag of paints and a blank canvas I keep in a closet, I make my way to the elevator with renewed determination to let all of this go—if only for a few hours.
I set off on foot toward the park close to the college campus—and my office. It’s always been one of my go to places to paint. There’s always something new to see—a new angle, new colors, new faces.
Settling on a park bench I pull my canvas and supplies out of my bag. Taking a moment to take in my surroundings I seek out something that inspires me. When my eyes hone in on the new budding flowers of the garden directly across from me I know I’ve found the perfect object.
After floundering through the past several weeks, trapped in a world of confusion and sadness I could use a little life and color.
Dipping my brush in the pink, I start working on shaping rose pedals. My hand moves effortlessly over the canvas, the sounds of my hand brushing against the fabric and the concentration it takes to make something beautiful numb the pain, dull the ache in my heart. Quiet the voices in my head.
Before I know it the painting is nearly complete. A raspy timbre reverberates through me, just as I’m putting the finishing touches on a few of the details. “That’s amazing, Riley.”
I have to close my eyes as my emotions go crazy. How many days have I waited to hear that voice? How many days have I tried to forget the way that voice affects me?
I almost snicker when it becomes evident today’s session was wasted. The calmness, the quietness I worked so hard to achieve disappear almost instantly. My heartbeat picks up, my nerves going haywire just from his nearness. When he brushes his hand down my arm my breathing catches and the desire for this man flares up again.
I feel him sit down next to me on the bench before I open my eyes and see his beautiful face looking at me like he’s in just as much turmoil as I am.
His brown eyes bore into my soul, begging me to talk to him, to let me in. His face is as soft and open as I’ve seen it in weeks. “I’ve missed you, Kit.”
His name leaves my lips in a shaky voice—a cross between a warning and a plea for more. My voice is apparently in tune with the rest of my body—confused and yet so sure. My heart wants this man, my body aches for him, but my mind just isn’t sure. No matter how many hours I spend making lists, separating the pros from the cons I’m still so unsure.
A sad smile creeps along his face, understanding sinking into his eyes. He promised a fight, but he’s doing nothing to hold onto that promise. He’s left me alone, and even now he looks like he’s ready to throw in the towel. Some fight.
Shaking his head, he diverts his attention from my face to my painting. Reaching over he takes the canvas off my lap and examines it. I’m not an awful artist, but I’m certainly far from skilled. While, I’ve never much cared about the quality before I find myself unnerved at having Rico inspect my work so closely.
“This is really good, Riley. I didn’t know you painted.”
I shrug at him, “It’s a form of therapy for me, something to help turn off my brain when my thoughts get too loud.” He just nods at me like he gets it and maybe he does. Maybe Paul has been working with him on different therapy treatments, different ways to hone his anger, his doubt.
Or, maybe his understanding comes from the use of drugs. Hasn’t he told me time and again that drugs helped quiet the thoughts, numb the pain?
I guess Rico and I aren’t so different, after all. Our only differences come in the form of retreat we use.
“What’s on your brain, doc?” He smiles at me halfheartedly, his grin laced with sadness and resignation.
Every part of me wants to scream at him. I want to demand he tell me why he’s not fighting for me. Why he backed out on his promise. But, I’m still so unsure as to whether or not that’s what I really want, so I lie. I take the coward’s way out. “Work’s been crazy lately.”
His eyes squint as he regards me closely for a few tense moments. His eyes stare into mine—knowing he’ll be able to tell if I’m lying just by the look in them. If he finds the lie, he doesn’t call me out on it.
“A buddy of mine is painting his kid’s nursery this weekend, do you think you could help? He wants to paint a baseball mural on one wall but isn’t exactly artistic.” His voice is teasing, the Rico I know shining through whatever was tainting him earlier.
I bite my lip in thought. I shouldn’t do it. I need distance. I need to get over Rico, to move on. But, I can’t. There is something buried deep that knows, just knows, Rico is what I need. What I want. I can’t walk away from him any more than I could walk away from my job.
He may not know it, but Rico already owns me. I’m completely powerless to say no. He’s hardly touched me, refuses to fight for me, and yet I still want him as much as ever.
Slightly disgusted with myself I find myself agreeing, “Yeah, that should be okay. When?”
When that signature grin of his comes out to play, I have to grip the edge of the bench to keep my ass planted on that hard wood, and not on Rico’s. That grin is fucking deadly.
“Tomorrow. We’re meeting at The Slip for a drink first, to celebrate Jared’s wedding then we’re headed to Ryan’s house. Meet us there around 7?”
“A bar, Rico?” I can’t help that the therapist in me comes out. But, I worry about him going somewhere with so many temptations.
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll be fine, I’m just meeting them there.” Standing up he hands me my painting before leaning down to whisper in my ear, “See you tomorrow, beautiful girl.”
I watch him walk away my thoughts going haywire. I shouldn’t have said yes. I should have told him to walk away and never look back. I should have stood from my seat and run away as fast as I could from that man.
But, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Now it’s time to see if he stays true to his word and actually fights for me or not. He gets one more shot, then I’m walking away from Rico Jones for good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Riley
“Here,” I say to Roxy as I hand her a cocktail napkin. Her brow crinkles in confusion, looking back and forth between me and the napkin. “You’re drooling. Use it to wipe it up before they come over here.”
She barks out a loud, unrestrained laugh in true Roxy fashion, “Good one, bitch.”
In unison, we turn our attention back to the three drop-dead gorgeous men walking towards us physically unable to look away. Seriously, one of them alone is enough to send a girl’s hormones into overdrive. But, all three of them together? Absolutely lethal.
“Which one is your man?” Roxy whispers in my ear.
My heart trips at her words. “He’s not my man,” I bite out. Not for lack of wanting, though. “He needed my help with something. That’s all.”
She rolls her eyes in the most exaggerated way, “Right, but you’re going to make him your man. At least for the night, right?”
“Absolutely not.” I have to force myself to sound strong, sure, confident. But, I know she sees right through me. I haven’t been completely honest with Roxy about my relationship with Rico. I haven’t told her about the many boundaries we’ve crossed, and I definitely haven’t told her about Rico’s promises: the two month rule—which we’re finally free of—and the one about fighting for me. About winning me over.
She knows I find him attractive. Knows I’ve seen him outside of the office a handful of times. Knows I have at least a few intentions of going after him. But, that’s where her knowledge ends, and until I know for sure where this is going—if it’s going anywhere at all—that’s all she’s going to know.
Thankfully before she can say anything else the guys reach us, and I nearly melt under Rico’s appraising stare. His coffee eyes take me in from head to toe. He’s used to seeing me in my power suits and cardigans at work, so when his eyes catch sight of my ample cleavage hanging out of my plain black t-shirt they widen and burn with desire. I love the thrill his approval sends down m
y spine. I hate myself for it, but I love it all the same.
“Riley,” his sexy timbre assaults my ears, “You look…” He trails off, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. I’m not wearing anything special, skinny jeans and a t-shirt but apparently it’s enough to give Rico a decent view.
I don’t respond to his semi-compliment, instead offering up a half-smile.
Rico fills the awkward silence by introducing us to his friends. Pointing to the large man covered in tattoos, with more muscles than necessary he says, “This is Jared. My best friend.”
Obviously I know who Jared is through Rico’s sessions with me. Jared has played a large role in his life. It’s kind of odd knowing the man, without actually knowing him. But, nothing could have prepared me for the panty-dropping smile he gives me. His brown eyes appraise me knowingly and I find it hard to speak. So, I don’t. Lamely I raise my hand and offer him a wave.
“And this,” Rico continues, “Is my arch-nemesis—Ryan.” Again, being familiar with Rico’s story and his history with Ryan the introduction brings a grin to my face. I’m proud of Rico for being able to find friendship with the man he competed with for so long.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Riley,” Ryan rasps out.
I want to ask what he means by finally but I get completely lost in his blue eyes. They’re practically hidden by black-rimmed glasses, but they’re so damned bright I don’t think even sunglasses could dull their color.
Roxy elbows me in the side effectively snapping me out of my lustful daze. I feel like such an idiot—three sexy men and I turn into a damn mute. Nice, Riley.
Finally finding my voice I introduce Roxy to the guys and in true Roxy fashion she outshines me and refuses to let their looks tamp down her confidence.
“Nice to meet you boys.” Her gorgeous, perfectly straight white teeth shine as she gifts them with her smile. “So, Riley’s claiming this one for the night,” she gestures towards Rico and in the few seconds of pause before she starts talking again I picture at least five ways to kill her. Especially when Rico flashes me a wink, his grin so wide I think his face just might tear in half. Cocky bastard.
“So, which one of you am I claiming tonight?” She asks presumptuously.
The boys both chuckle, shaking their heads lightheartedly at my crazy friend. “Sorry,” Ryan speaks up, “We’re both taken. But, the two guys at the bar haven’t taken their eyes off of you since you walked in.”
We all turn in the direction he pointed and sure enough the guys are staring at her. Flashing them a flirty smile and a wink before turning back to our little group she takes her leave, “Later boys.”
I stand rooted to the spot, glaring at her back as she saunters off. She was supposed to be my buffer tonight, not leave me alone with three fucking models. With Rico. Doesn’t she realize how dangerous that is?
Turning away from my friend I see Rico smiling at me knowingly. I am so completely fucked. I don’t stand a chance against this man.
“So, you ready to head back the house and start working on that mural, Riley?”
Grateful for the distraction I smile at Ryan. That’s why I’m here tonight. I’m here to help Rico’s friend do something sweet for his pregnant girlfriend. I’m here to help him paint a wall in his baby’s nursery.
I am not here for Rico.
I smile and nod thankful for the chance to get away from Rico’s knowing stare.
We all file out, following Ryan and I almost groan when Rico’s voice hits my ears. The reprieve Ryan offered lasted literally five seconds.
“So, you’re claiming me tonight, huh?”
I just roll my eyes but otherwise pretend I didn’t hear him. He chuckles behind me placing his hand on the small of my back in a faux show of chivalry.
“Good, because I claimed you a long time ago, Kit.”
Yep, totally and completely fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rico
After getting Riley set up in the nursery, the guys and I worked on painting the rest of the rooms. Ryan bought a tiny two-bedroom house for him and Angelica and their new baby—a house she still doesn’t know about. We’ve been working on it quite a bit the last few days trying to get it as cleaned up as possible before he surprises her with it.
I kept finding excuses to work on the rooms in the back of the house, leaving Ryan and Jared to paint and clean up the living room and kitchen. I’m sure they saw right through me, but I don’t really care.
I could watch Riley paint all day and never tire of it. Shit, I could probably watch her do damn near anything and be content. She’s so deep, so intense, so distant all the time but when she paints she seems to get lost in a different world. Her sweet face relaxes, her eyes get slightly unfocused, and a small smile that I’m not sure she’s even aware of tilts her lips.
She’s beautiful.
Leaning against the doorframe I attempt to sneak another peek at her. She’s standing in the middle of the room with a paint brush in her hand, paint splattered all over her clothes and her head tilted to the side as she takes in her work. The wall looks perfect. She’s painted the entire wall a cream color and added vintage looking baseball stitches in the corners.
“What do you think?” She asks tilting her head to the side to look at me. A smile plays at her lips.
Narrowing my eyes at her I take a few steps in her direction. “How’d you know I was there?”
“You’re kind of hard to miss Rico Jones,” her voice is light, her hazel eyes playful. She’s only been this way with me a handful of times, but every single time makes me crazier for her. And after going weeks without this girl in my life I’m damn near insane with the need to touch her again. To see that smile. To hear her loud laugh.
I want to talk to her about my promise to fight for her and to beg her to give me a chance, but I manage to tamp it down. Barely. Now is not the time. I have to prove to her that she can trust me. That I’m worth a shot.
Then, I fight.
Opting to keep things light I crowd her personal space, loving the way her pulse picks up the closer I get to her. Quirking my lips in that grin I know affects her, even though she pretends it doesn’t, I smile down at her. “Was that a compliment or an insult?”
Her eyebrows scrunch as she tries to figure out what I’ve asked her. Her attention has been focused on my lips the whole time and yet she didn’t hear a word I just said. Still staring at my mouth she bites down on her bottom lip, the move driving me insane. It’s then I notice the smudge of red paint just below her lip. Raising my hand, I brush my thumb along that small piece of soft flesh in an attempt to remove the paint. She gasps and the move causes my thumb to rub against the soft, wet, inside of her lip.
Fuck. Me.
She lets out that noise that sounds so much like a purr and I swear my cock instantly hardens. Before I’ve even realized what’s happening her teeth clamp around my thumb and it’s my turn to let out a soft groan of pleasure.
“Fuck, Kit.” Unwilling to move my thumb from her mouth I bring my free hand up to grip her hip. Using it for leverage I pull her soft body against me, loving the way she seems to melt just a little. “Tell me what you want, baby.” My voice is barely a whisper, but the plea is evident. I want this. I want her. And I’m doing a damn poor job at hiding it.
Bringing her eyes up to mine she looks at me the way I’ve dreamed she’d look at me. Like she wants to jump me and never come back down. Her lips part but whatever words she’d planned on saying go left unheard as Jared barges into the room.
“Hey, you guys ready?” He comes to a complete stop a few steps into the room as he takes in our position. “Oh, um. Sorry. We’ll just wait for you guys out there. Take your time,” he adds over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the room.
Riley had taken a step back from me when Jared walked in but as the seconds pass she puts more and more space between us. A pink blush creeps up her neck and cheeks. It’s so damn cute and innocent.
&
nbsp; “Riley.” I take a step toward her, desperate to feel that connection again. Desperate to get her to let me in. I was so close, so fucking close until Jared interrupted us.
She shakes her head as she flashes me a sad smile. “Not now, Rico.” Turning on her heel she makes her way out of the room leaving me standing there at a complete loss.
Gripping my hair in my hand I stay like that for several minutes completely unsure what my next move is. I’m not letting her go. I’m not giving up on her. It’s that simple and that complicated.
The problem is Riley. She’s too far in her damn head and she keeps making excuses for why we can’t do this. As long as she’s trapped in her thoughts I’ll never stand a chance.
Following her out to the living room I find her leaning against the kitchen counter as Ryan and Jared argue about what time to leave tomorrow. Riley is standing in between the two of them, but she’s not paying attention. Her eyes are focused on the floor, a crease between her eyes letting me know she’s once again a prisoner to her thoughts.
Afraid she’s trying to talk herself out of what almost happened I step into the room my only goal to pull her out of her head. Walking over to her I grab her small hand in mine and pull her behind me, without giving her the option of saying no. “Let’s go, I’ll drive you home. See you in the morning, assholes.” Riley waves back at Ryan as we leave, but I don’t give them time to say much, too eager to distract her as much as possible.
***
The car ride was… awkward. It wasn’t necessarily silent, but the conversation wasn’t exactly stimulating either. With each passing second, I could almost see her shrinking back into herself. The confident girl that came out just long enough to bite my thumb and turn me on has completely vanished. The sweet, quiet, professional Riley firmly back in her place.