by Elle Keating
Luke blinked several times, ending that all-encompassing stare and asked, “You’re part of the shoot this weekend?”
“Yes. For the wedding magazine?”
His jaw clenched at her response and he suddenly looked a little agitated. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t want to ruin her chances at securing another date for her sister. She took a step back and then another. “So, I’ll see you soon.” A slight nod was all he gave her before she hightailed it out of there.
Chapter Four
Luke
He was fucked. And not in a good way.
Luke waited until that ugly green sedan was out of his driveway and then went to his fridge. He grabbed a beer, stared at it for a second, and then returned it to the top shelf. He needed something stronger tonight.
He stopped off at his liquor cabinet on the way to the shower and retrieved a bottle of brandy. He rarely resorted to the hard stuff, but he needed something to erase her image from his mind. Luke didn’t bother with a glass. He and the bottle were in the shower a few moments later. Between sips he soaped up his cock and began stroking his raging hard-on. He had hoped that the brandy would have numbed him, allowed him to forget at least for a few minutes, but all that amber-colored liquid did was blank out everything else but Peyton. All he could see were her eyes and those soft full lips.
The visual he had conjured up of this woman kneeling before him, her lips encircling his cock as he sank into her slow and deep, sent him to orgasm within seconds. He dropped the bottle of brandy he had been holding with his other hand and it crashed into a million pieces at his feet. But he didn’t care, not even when a few pieces of glass lodged into the soles of his feet. Because all he could feel was that sudden buildup and then sweet release…all over the shower wall. Streams of semen decorated the beige tiles. Breathless, he pumped until there was nothing left. He released his cock and looked down to find his shower floor painted with his blood. Instead of stepping away from the glass, he ground his toes and heels into the shards and relished the pain.
***
Peyton
“How’s my girl?”
“Your girl is tired and so happy to see you!” Peyton said, falling into Gus’s embrace. She nestled into him, breathing in his wonderful, familiar scent, Dove soap and his woodsy-smelling aftershave. “And hungry.”
“I was hoping you would say that. There’s a pot of meatballs simmering on the stove.”
Her stomach growled in response and she stepped out of his arms and got a look at the man who had taken her and Lainey in and had given them a chance. Because of her busy work schedule, she hadn’t been home in a few months. In her absence, she noticed he had gained a few lines around his warm, blue eyes and his hair had whitened more. She knew his aging wasn’t due to money-induced stressors, at least not anymore, but most likely because he still mourned the loss of Gina, the love of his life. She had passed over two years ago, but it didn’t matter. He missed her and so did Peyton. Cancer had swooped in and claimed her quickly. It wasn’t fucking fair.
“Lainey found her wedding venue! You should have seen her, Gus. Smiling, gushing, giggling. It was a sight to see.”
Gus smiled and then looked past her. Walt had pulled up in his pickup truck and Lainey was hugging and kissing him through the driver’s side window. Peyton laughed as she watched the two lovebirds through the front door.
“You know what would be a sight to see?” Gus asked.
Peyton turned and faced the only father she had ever known. “What would that be?”
“To see you in love. To see my other daughter find a man who lives only for her, loves her with everything he has.”
Like Lainey, Gus was also a hopeless romantic. And why shouldn’t he be? He and Gina had been high school sweethearts. They had married the week after he had finished his tour of duty and bought the very house that he still lived in. A short time later, they had opened up a diner around the corner from their house and worked side by side, true partners, with Gina waiting tables and him cooking in the kitchen. They had been inseparable; that was, until death had come along and claimed the other half of his soul.
Peyton wanted what Gus had just described. She knew that kind of love existed. She had seen it with her own two eyes every day since Gus and Gina had adopted them. What Gus and Gina had was real. It hadn’t been a fairytale. They had shared and experienced true joy but had also lived through the worst kind of heartache. Two years before Lainey and Peyton had entered Gus and Gina’s lives, their son had died suddenly. One moment, their boy had been racing down the basketball court for a layup and the next he was on the gymnasium floor taking his last breaths. He had suffered a heart attack brought on by some undiagnosed condition. He had just turned fourteen years old.
Gina had told Peyton before she died how their son’s death had affected their family, how Gus had coped the months after they lost their child. Gina had watched her husband sink into a deep depression and she was at the end of her rope, thinking of ways to make him want to live again, when a social worker happened to come into their diner and plant herself on one of the bar stools. One hour and a burger and shake later, Gina had learned what it would take to become a foster parent and the benefits of opening her home up to children who needed a family. The social worker had provided her with her card and the rest was history. One year later, almost to the day, Peyton and Lainey were placed as foster children with Gina and Gus. Eleven months after that, they were officially adopted and out of the foster care system for good. Just as Gina had hoped, Gus not only opened his home to two broken girls, but he opened his heart and over time he began to heal.
Peyton stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his smooth cheek. “I dare any man to try.” Her response was meant to be lighthearted, but his smile never came.
“It can happen and often does when you least expect it.” He raised her chin with two fingers, gave her one of his warm smiles and said, “And not even you will be able to stop it.” Peyton smiled since she didn’t have the heart to tell him not to hold his breath.
***
It was after midnight by the time the kitchen was cleaned up and Walt and Lainey had left. Peyton kissed Gus goodnight and took a glass of wine to bed with her. She crawled under her covers and sipped her Merlot. She had hoped that the two glasses before this one would have coaxed her to sleep but they hadn’t. Screw it. She stopped sipping and threw the wine back like a shot. Finally, her blood started to warm and her body relaxed beneath her down comforter. She returned the empty wine glass to her nightstand, lay in her twin bed, and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. It amazed her that those stars still remained there after all these years, the adhesive acting more like concrete than glue. But what warmed her heart was that neither Gina nor Gus had removed those stars or had touched her bedroom at all after she had moved out.
That’s what she wanted to drift off to. Knowing how much Gina had loved her and how wonderful a father Gus was. But she didn’t. As sleep slithered in, so did the memories of how she ended up here and just like that she was eleven years old all over again…
“At least this one doesn’t hit us,” Lainey said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.
“Stop that…and keep still,” Peyton said, locking her sister in place with her legs. Again, she took the comb and brushed Lainey’s bangs, which fell well below her eyes. With an even hand, Peyton snipped her sister’s unruly locks until she was satisfied that not one chocolate brown strand was in her line of vision. “Reggie may not beat us like Chet did, but I still don’t like him.” As if on cue, snoring erupted from the next room over. Peyton wasn’t surprised that Reggie and their mother were still asleep. It was after two o’clock in the morning when they finally had come home, smelling like booze and cigarettes. But they hadn’t gone straight to bed. They had stayed up and argued, shouting at each other and accusing one another of cheating. The shouting match was followed with an hour of bed creaking, grunts and disgusting
groans from both her mother and that bastard. The apartment had finally fallen silent sometime after four. Which meant that Peyton was going to be tired all day at school.
“Well, I thought he was being nice when he bought us ice cream yesterday.”
Peyton set the scissors down and began the difficult process of securing her sister’s out-of-control curls into a ponytail. Lainey’s naiveté was both reassuring and infuriating. Peyton loved that her innocence was still somewhat intact, that she hadn’t been completely jaded by everything she had seen and heard over the years. Like all the times Peyton and Lainey had come home from school only to find her mother screwing some strange guy in her bed. Or those precious moments when they were exposed to their mother shooting up at the kitchen table, the same table where they had eaten a bowl of Cheerios earlier that morning. And how could one forget the time Lainey and Peyton had found their mother passed out in a pool of her own vomit. But nothing said motherly love more than the time their mother had left for over a week because she said she needed a break and that she deserved it. Peyton had been eight when her mother had pulled that stunt. Despite running out of food by the fourth day and showing up to school every day looking like a wrinkled mess, it turned out to be the happiest week of Peyton’s life. While her mother was gone, Peyton and Lainey did not have to walk on eggshells. During that week, they didn’t have to play nursemaid to their strung-out mother. They didn’t have to hide in their bedrooms and turn up the television to drown out the noises that were coming from the other room when their mother had company.
“He’s not nice, Lainey.” Peyton secured the ponytail, prompting Lainey to wince. “I don’t trust him. Do you understand?”
Lainey sighed but nodded.
“I mean it, Lainey. Stay away from Reggie.”
Peyton didn’t want her sister to grow up too quickly. She wanted her to enjoy her childhood, to believe that Disney princesses were real and that dreams really could come true, even for two girls living in one very shitty apartment. But she needed Lainey to hear her. Her nine-year-old sister needed to know that there were some really bad people in the world. And for some reason, she knew Reggie was one of those people. Although she had heard her mother and her boyfriend of four weeks argue and throw things at each other, he hadn’t done anything else, like beat her mother and her kids, not like her mother’s last boyfriend had. But he didn’t need to lay a hand on them for Peyton to know that Reggie was a creep. It was the way he looked at her too long, the comments he made when she was wearing her school uniform, that made her uneasy and on edge whenever he was around.
Chapter Five
Luke
“And then I walked in our bedroom and I saw the bastard. Ted Runson, my fiancé, the man I was going to marry in six weeks, was screwing my best friend in our bed. IN. OUR. BED!” More sobbing erupted. “So, I’m calling to tell you that the Runson-Kerrigan wedding is off! Even if he came back to me on his fucking knobby-ass knees, begging for my forgiveness, I still wouldn’t…”
Luke ended the recording. He couldn’t listen to another second of this woman’s rant. Understandably the woman was distraught and pissed off, but goddamn! Who leaves a message like that on someone’s voicemail? Luke sat back in his swivel chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. His day had just begun but he was exhausted. Maybe tonight he would take one of those sleeping aids his doctor had prescribed. They had to be at least a year old, but they probably still did the job. He was out of options at this point. Hard liquor, exercise, reading…the typical vices he used to fall asleep hadn’t cut it the past two nights. He had considered going to Eden last night to wear himself out until he couldn’t physically move, but something made him reconsider.
He scanned a few emails and then went to the calendar. He should have been reviewing what was on today’s agenda, but he found himself clicking ahead to the following month. His eyes zeroed in on January 20th and the event that was no longer going to take place that day. Instead of deleting the Runson-Kerrigan wedding slot, he typed over it and labeled it Hold for Matthews.
Okay. This was something his dad would do. Patrick McGinnis would try to be accommodating. He wouldn’t think twice about contacting a bride who so desperately wanted to get married and telling her there had been a cancellation and that her big day could occur sooner rather than later. This was just good business. And if his dad were here right now, he would be making the phone call. Luke pulled up Peyton’s contact information and found her phone number. Before he could chicken out he dialed her number and waited…and then listened to a recording stating that her voice mailbox was full. Like a coward, he breathed a sigh of relief and then texted her instead.
Luke: “Voicemail inbox was full. Due to a recent cancellation, January 20th is available for your sister’s wedding.”
He pushed send and stared at his phone. He didn’t know why he waited for an immediate response since she hadn’t answered his call, but seconds later his phone chimed.
Peyton: “Like six weeks away? That January 20th??”
Was she being flippant? A smart ass?
He pictured her sitting in some silk, expensive robe in front of an enormous mirror like the kind you see in movies, the kind where the actress or model was being primped by her stylist in preparation for an important performance. But the image quickly mutated and in his mind she was now sitting at a small, round table in some average-looking kitchen, wearing jeans and a faded t-shirt, drinking coffee, acting nothing like a diva. Despite her career choice and her flawless beauty, something told him that she was nothing like she seemed, that everything was a façade, that the woman sitting in that cozy kitchen was the real Peyton.
Luke: “Yes, do you want me to hold the date?”
Peyton: “Yes, please.”
Luke liked how she said please…a little too much. He was lost in that single word when she texted him again.
Peyton: “Can we discuss the details this weekend? Cost, food, wine, flowers, etc.?”
A simple yes was all he could muster.
Peyton: “Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”
Luke slammed his fist on the cherrywood desk. “Shit,” he shouted to absolutely no one. He had no idea why he was angry. He quickly blamed his little tantrum on lack of sleep and his growing anxiety and changed the hold on January 20th to confirmed.
He may be a twenty-nine-year-old man who ran a successful business, but he really needed his dad to handle all of this. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Last night after he had polished off a bottle of scotch, his mom had called and told him that they were staying in Philly for a little while longer. Morgan was improving, growing stronger every day, but they felt like they needed to be there for Jake and Aunt Day.
He was on his own here. And the thought that he was going to have to face Peyton in forty-eight hours scared the shit out of him.
Chapter Six
Peyton
“I mean, hung like a frickin’ horse. It’s amazing, an act of God really, that I can sit here without a bag of ice under my ass.”
Peyton normally found the retelling of Tasha’s sexual conquests entertaining, but she wasn’t in the mood to hear how her friend had been ridden last night. Yet Tasha continued, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“But I couldn’t leave Jace hanging. The way he worked his tongue to prepare me for Denton will go down as the best foreplay I’ve ever received.”
“You are one kinky bitch.” Peyton looked over at her friend in the mirror. “You know that, right?”
Tasha placed her hand over her heart. “I’m just picking up your slack, sweetheart. What’s it been? Two, three months since you’ve been laid?”
Twelve, actually.
The seasoned stylists who were pinning up their hair didn’t even flinch at their raunchy conversation. They knew, hell anyone who stumbled onto social media, would know that Tasha had a very active sex life. Photos of her with Hollywood hotties and models were all over the internet. It wasn’t unco
mmon for her to be linked with not one but multiple men at any given time.
But for Peyton, she had been in a dry spell and until two nights ago, she hadn’t really missed sex all that much. But when she saw Luke, that perfectly sculpted chest of his and lips that needed to be bitten…
“Tash, you’ve always been such a team player. How selfless of you to take it in the back door for little old me.” Peyton’s jab at her free-spirited friend made Tasha burst into hysterical laughter.
“Honey, why don’t you let me fix you up? I could have a guy over here and servicing you in a matter of minutes. Just say the word.”
Peyton didn’t doubt that Tasha could deliver. She didn’t want to know how many men Tasha had in her contacts. But Peyton wasn’t going to take Tasha up on her offer and make that mistake twice. The last time Tasha had played matchmaker did not end well. The guy who Tasha had sworn would be perfect for her ended up being a real asshole. Yeah, he was hot as hell and beautiful to look at, but that was all he had going for him. For Tasha’s sake, she had given it a try and had gone out with him more than once. But after the fourth date, she had determined that his personality sucked and there wasn’t an original thought in that pretty little head of his. It was after he had taken her to dinner and stepped out of the restaurant that she knew exactly what he wanted from her. As the paparazzi had swarmed around them asking them about their relationship, he had held her against him and declared that they were a couple. He had offered his name to those leeches and rattled off the short list of movies he had appeared in. He had even leaned in and thanked her for helping him out. She had dumped his ass on the spot, not caring in the least that she had embarrassed the shit out of him. She wasn’t going to let him use her to help boost his career. No fucking way.