by Olivia Chase
It was what it was. Just sex.
And I’ll keep telling myself that until I believe it. Because yes, as silly as it sounds, I didn’t expect him to pull that on me.
I don’t really know anything about the guy except his first name, I remind myself. And the fact that he’s amazing in bed. Yes, there might have been something between us. But if I face facts, it’s also clear that he and I are from two different worlds. That much was evident in how he acted at the wedding.
Axel and I never had a chance. So I suppose he did me a favor by running out, no matter how much it stings.
I let myself lie in bed and try to not think about last night’s events, despite my desire to replay them over and over again, to savor the sensations I experienced at the hands of an expert lover. I can hear my cell phone vibrating in my little dress pocket of my bridesmaid gown. Probably someone wondering what the hell happened to me last night.
Well, whoever it is can wait. I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I’ll take a shower. Scrub this off. Get a strong cup of coffee and figure out how to deal with the ramifications of what happened later. I have other things I have to focus on, business that can’t wait. Working for my father means I have to work extra hard, because he won’t let me get away with anything—not in business, anyway.
I’ll always be his little girl. But he’s trying to help me become a competent woman. I won’t let him down.
With that in mind, I shove myself out of bed and pad to the shower, ready to wash away the amazing night I just had and pull myself together.
“This will be good experience for you, Kendra,” my dad says as he navigates his silver Benz down the road. “This is an unusual project for us, so it’ll be great for you to learn the business more and see the breadth of what we do at Rochester Development.”
My father hired me on with his company right after I finished my degree back in May. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by his retail developmental work. He never made me feel unwanted or weird about my curiosity; instead, he got me a small hard hat and took me along with him any time I desired, explaining with infinite patience how land is developed.
Watching him raze unwanted or abandoned buildings and homes and develop new shopping plazas that create jobs for local communities, plus bring in more tax money for schools and libraries, it was like watching a miracle worker in action by the time he finished with a particular project.
Places once forsaken would become vibrant centers of activity and community.
And, of course, my father would become slightly more wealthy, a point he never hesitated to mention to me.
“Hopefully the more hesitant homeowners will listen to us,” I say to him as I browse through the documentation he prepared. My father is nothing if not thorough—he has a list of all the homeowners who are resistant to the high-end mall he wants to develop in a run-down neighborhood in Rock Bridge. It will be positive growth, especially since that area of town is pretty shitty and in vastly in need of improvement.
The city wants to change that section of Rock Bridge and get rid of the negative stigma attached to it. Plus, the land is great, and the mall will be nicely located near a major thoroughfare. Perfect for not only local shoppers, but those traveling through Michigan on their way to other states. Not to mention Daddy said there are lots of abandoned properties that can be torn down around there, and empty lots that can be converted. Great area for future expansion.
Of course, those sites aren’t the problem. The issue will be the lived-in homes that need to be demolished for the project to get underway. Getting those homeowners to acquiesce to selling isn’t always as easy as it should be, given the compensation the residents receive for vacating.
It’s like Daddy is knowing what I’m thinking. “Thankfully, many of them are ready to sell and relocate,” he says. “But there are some stubborn people who won’t take the deal. Despite the terms we’re offering.”
I don’t understand people who would stay in an impoverished home when you could get the chance to get out and find a better place. “Well, hopefully we can get them to listen.”
We pull into the neighborhood, and I can see why my father thinks it would be a great place. The location is prime; once the neighborhood is turned around and value is added through a mall, it’ll bring the city a lot more revenue. And a better reputation, too. There are a number of abandoned houses on the street with wood haphazardly nailed across windows. Scattered in between them are run-down homes aplenty.
My father pulls into a driveway and kills the engine. “First stop. Here we go.” We get out and rap on the door.
An elderly lady in a mint-green bathrobe that’s seen better days answers for us. She instantly looks suspicious upon seeing me and my father in dressy clothes.
But Daddy is a professional. He greets her with a warm smile, and before we know it, we’ve been invited inside and given lemonade as we explain our goal with the land. By the end of the visit, she’s promising to think things over, and we schedule another appointment with her for a follow-up. Looking good.
We visit a few more homes like that. A couple of homeowners aren’t home, so we note that down on our log and plan to come back another time. In a methodical manner, we work our way up and down the streets in the neighborhood.
A lot of real estate developers would leave tasks like this to some flunkies, not wanting to take the time and effort to meet with the locals. But my father believes in getting your hands dirty and paying attention to the little details.
Days like this make me respect him even more than I did already.
Daddy pulls his car into a driveway of a home that actually looks decent—the yard is clean, the exterior freshly painted. When we get to the door and ring the bell, there’s a pause, then the door opens.
And my stomach drops clear to my feet as my face bursts into flames. Shit. Shit. Shit.
It’s him.
Oh my god.
Axel, sexy, shirtless, in low-slung jeans, can of beer in hand, looking like sin.
Axel
It’s hard to keep a neutral face when I see Kendra standing there, clutching a folder and staring at me with shock in her eyes. I don’t know how to behave around her, nor do I fucking know what to say.
Did she somehow find out who I am and come to give me shit for running out on her without saying goodbye?
I couldn’t help it. I woke up in the middle of the night with her nestled in my arms, and the whole thing was just too fucking much. It was supposed to be a hot hookup, nothing more. And it was sexy and intense. But there was more, and I had to pull the trigger and get out of there before I started something that would only get more complicated between us.
I can’t do that, not at this point in my life. So, I pulled a dick move and I took off, left her without saying goodbye.
When I open my mouth to say something, anything, the old man beside her says, “Hello, how are you this evening?” He extends his hand out toward me with unwavering patience, and I stare at it for several long moments, then give it a quick shake and hold up my other hand, bearing the can of beer.
“I’m great. Just living the high life,” I reply smoothly.
Kendra clears her throat and looks away from me, down at her folder. “Um, and what is your name, sir?”
It takes me a moment to find my voice. Partly because I’m insulted that she’s pretending to not know me. Rich princess is too embarrassed to admit she had anything to do with me, that I took her virginity.
I look over at the man and introduce myself, feeling annoyed now. “I’m Axel. And you two are interrupting my evening, so unless you have dealings with me…” I go to close the door when the man presses a palm to the door to stop it.
He gives me an easy smile. “I’m Charles Rochester of Rochester Development. I sent a couple of letters to you recently but didn’t hear anything back. We’re interested in buying this property.”
I scour my brain to see if I remember an
y mailings addressed from them. Something about that seems familiar. I’m pretty sure I looked at the first letter sent…and then I recall the contents and feel my stomach clench. “Oh, you guys are wanting to build some kind of shitty mall here or something, right? Just what we need.”
Kendra stiffens at my insult. “It’s an upscale shopping mall, and it would be revitalizing for Rock Bridge.” To her credit, she keeps her voice even despite my open hostility.
“I’m sure it would be. But I’m not fucking selling.” I take great pleasure in watching her cheeks bloom pink with anger at my blunt words. She stares down at her papers, not looking at me.
The older man speaks as if I’m a child. “I understand you’re upset and resistant—we just want a chance to explain ourselves in person and answer any questions you might have.” He’s nothing if not steady in his coolness. “It won’t take much of your time.”
“Axel, you say?” Kendra’s voice has an edge as she addresses me. “The name on the deed is Butch Beckett. Is he home, by chance?” She looks up at me, and I can see a stiff smirk on her face.
I raise a brow. “Oh man, you just missed him. Too bad. He’s serving another twenty in County, but I can answer your questions on his behalf. He won’t ever sell to you guys. In fact, he’d tell you to get lost. Just like I am.” Irritation itches the back of my neck, and I struggle to keep my frustration at bay.
I’m being a dick. But this whole situation is pissing me off. Kendra acting too good for me, it lodges under my skin, makes me feel uncomfortable. I already knew this chick was out of my league. But having her act like she doesn’t even know me? It burns, even though I tell myself I don’t care.
“Look.” Charles shifts in place, and it’s the first time I see him lose his smoothness. His cool exterior is diminished by the sharpness in his voice. “We’ll be getting this mall done one way or another. If need be, we can probably have this home condemned and torn down without having to pay your father a dime.”
I can feel a muscle in my jaw flex. “Oh, is that right? Just try it, buddy. In the meantime, get the fuck off our property so I can go back to enjoying my now-warm beer.” I take a blatant drag of the drink in front of him and stare at Charles until he turns and stalks to his car, finally showing his emotions. Something about that moment of weakness gives me a small bit of pleasure.
“I can’t believe you’re being such an ass,” Kendra hisses under her breath at me. She’s scowling.
I shrug, acting like I don’t give a fuck. “So? You’re the one who is embarrassed to admit you know me.”
“Of course I’m embarrassed,” she retorts, and I stare at her, a little surprised she admitted it so boldly. “First, you ran out of the hotel like a total coward. And second, that man you’ve been so rude to is my father. Yet I’m supposed to tell him that you gave me the old pump-and-dump last night? Sure. Right.” Her snort of derision lingers between us for a long, silent moment.
Fuck. Okay, that makes sense. Can’t really fault her for pretending not to know me, especially since good-old Charles is her father. That would make for an awkward situation. And she’s right—I fucking took off in the wee hours, not thinking I was ever going to see her again…and that was a shitty thing to do.
But fate brought her here, regardless of the circumstances. And now that I’m looking into those compelling eyes, I can’t help but want to taste her mouth again. God, I jacked off twice today thinking about our sex last night.
The fact that she let me take her virginity? Fucking incredible.
Kendra is trouble, and God help me, I want another round.
“I want to see you again,” I say.
She stiffens and blinks her shock with wide eyes locked on mine. “What? No way. Forget it.”
“What if I’ll talk with Butch about selling the house if you agree to see me again?” It’s the only bargaining chip I have.
Her eyes roll hard. She knows I’m full of shit—that I’m using this opportunity as a shameless means to convince her to go out with me. But I can see her softening, despite the blatant attempt.
“We can discuss it over dinner,” I tell her, stepping toward her. This close, I can smell the light vanilla of her scent, and I breathe in, not losing eye contact, letting her see how she affects me.
Her gaze drops to my chest, and the appreciation she has for my body is clear in her eyes, which grow slightly hooded. “This is crazy,” she murmurs.
“Kendra,” Charles shouts from the car, having rolled down the window. “We gotta go.”
“One date,” I press. “And I won’t even tell you how badly I want to fuck you again or touch that beautiful pussy.” Her lips part at my bold words. Part of me thinks I should explain why I ran. But not here, not right now. I barely even know what to think about it myself. “Say yes.”
She inhales harshly through her nose, then digs into her purse and gives me a business card. “Here’s my number. Call me—but only if you’re serious about selling. You can at least get something for the home.” I can see her trying to resist me, and the urge to touch her soft skin is making my cock throb in my jeans. If she looks down again, she’ll see how hard I am for her. “My father will make good on his promise to see this place condemned if you try to make things difficult. The mall will be happening, Axel. No two ways about it.”
I stroke the card with purposeful intent, my thumb brushing the raised lettering. “I’ll keep that in mind, Kendra.” Then I lean in close and whisper in her ear, “I’ve thought about you all day, you know.”
Her face is burning when she pulls back and steps away from me. But her nipples are hard; I can see that through her shirt. Not to mention her parted lips and the way she’s staring at me. She wants me too. “I…gotta go.”
“I shouldn’t have left like that,” I finally tell her. I don’t really know what else to say, but I can offer that much.
Her nod is slight, but I see tension leak from her shoulders. “Thank you.” She turns and gets into the car, and the Benz pulls away, sliding down the road and disappearing around the corner.
A rap on my door lets me know Chris is here. I whip it open and give him a nod. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.” Chris has his baseball bat in hand, and I step out into the warm summer night as we stroll down the street.
Not twenty minutes after Kendra and her father left, I got a text from a man in the neighborhood asking for my help. He’s being bullied by a couple of drug dealers who are pressing him to pay more. He already gave them what he owed, but they won’t quit harassing him, saying he didn’t pay interest and so on. Milking him for more than what is fair.
Chris and I are gonna fuck them up.
I know these idiots. They live two streets down; I’ve already had to pay them a visit because of bullshit they’ve pulled before on other neighbors. They’re two young punks with no sense of honor.
“So,” I say casually to Chris, “did you get a visit today from those people wanting to tear down the neighborhood and build a mall?”
He shakes his head. “No, I talked to them before. They already made me an offer.”
I stop in place. “And you accepted?”
Chris quirks a brow at me. “The amount of money they offered? I couldn’t resist. I can get a nicer place than that crap hole I’m living in.”
“It’s not that bad,” I hedge, and he barks a laugh.
“That place is a dump. I know it, and you know it. I haven’t cared enough to keep it up. Now I don’t have to.”
Fuck. He makes it sound like the mall is a foregone conclusion. “How many other people in the neighborhood have sold out—” I stop myself from finishing the question, knowing it sounds harsh.
“Sold out, huh?” he says with a light laugh. “Think what you want, bro. This neighborhood is barely hanging on with duct tape and thin hope. Can’t last much longer. I’d rather go out with my head held high and a pocketful of cash. On my terms.”
“We don’t need another fucking m
all in Rock Bridge,” I grouse. “And this neighborhood is fine. Nothing wrong with it.” There are good people in here, despite the occasional assholes.
“Axel,” he says in an unusually gentle voice. We turn the corner, sidestepping two little kids who should be in bed, not out coloring on the sidewalk. “Take a good look around you. This place is bad. Falling apart. Rotting from the inside out. Even your brothers recognized it and got the fuck out while they could.”
My cheeks burn with anger. “Yeah, they sure did.”
“I’m not saying the way they dumped you is okay,” he says, swinging the bat to rest on his shoulder. Our boots continue to fall on the cracked sidewalk as we make another turn toward the offenders’ house. “But you can’t keep living in the past. The future will happen, whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not fucking living in the past. I’m dealing with the present the best way I can. Keeping shit going. Someone’s gotta be here for these people.”
Chris’s free hand claps my shoulder. “You’re good for trying, but you gotta let it go sometime. There’s only so much you can do. Ain’t no shame in moving on and letting this place go.”
We continue the rest of the way in silence. I think about the issue, really think about it. Why am I so attached to this neighborhood? Why do I feel the need to defend it when so many others seem ready to leave it behind?
I know the reason why. It’s the only genuine home I’ve ever known. I was bounced around from family member to member after my mom left me as a kid. It wasn’t until Butch took me in several years ago, integrated me into his family, treated me like one of his other sons, that I found a sense of belonging.
At least, insofar as the bastard half-son of an emotionally distant man could find a sense of belonging.
Still, he gave me a place to live, and I won’t let him down. He isn’t here to fight the fight, but I am.
We clomp up the steps toward the drug dealers’ house. It’s a fucking blight in the neighborhood. If we could raze this one place and leave the other good houses intact, I wouldn’t complain. The police won’t come in our neighborhood, so it’s up to me to deal with it.