The Golden Pecker

by Penelope Bloom

  My thoughts turned back to Grandpa Willy. The new information about Landon put the video and the list into a new light, and I thought I was starting to see how the pieces fit together.

  Maybe he had always intended to try to set us up? No, that didn’t make sense. But it might have been an idea that came to him near the end—like a dying wish. Or maybe he thought it would somehow redeem him if he could connect the son he’d screwed up raising with the adoptive daughter he felt he’d done a better job with?

  I decided I didn’t care anymore. It was going to take time to repair my idea of Grandpa Willy, and I didn’t think there was enough time in the world to repair my feelings for Landon.

  Bree let herself into my room a few hours later. She found me eating a room service cheeseburger and fries on the bed. I was watching some cheesy horror movie about a basketball that came to life and terrorized a small town.

  Bree surveyed the situation, then sat down with a serious expression on her face beside my bed. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Well,” I said. “I’m pretty sure this guy—he’s like the star basketball player for the high school team—is going to end up shooting the death ball through some kind of hoop and ripping an epically corny line to wrap this thing up. I was thinking, ‘lay down.’ You know? Like a play on a layup.”

  Bree squinted one eye and raised her other eyebrow. “I was talking about this.” She gestured to my mini feast on the bed.

  “Got hungry,” I said, popping a fry into my mouth.

  “What happened?”

  I let out an annoyed sigh. As much as Audria could irritate me with her clinical coldness, Bree was worse. Trying to hide something from her was about as fruitless as trying to convince a dog that bacon wasn’t cooking in the kitchen. I paused the movie and spent the next few minutes explaining most of what had happened, minus the awkward sexual bits.

  Bree was frowning when I’d finished. “And you believe all of this?” she asked. “About grandpa, I mean.”

  “It kind of makes sense. I mean, he never talked about his past or ex-wives or anything, but didn’t you always kind of feel like he’d led a different life before us?”

  “Yeah,” Bree said. “Maybe. Does Audria know?”

  “No. I went straight for room service. I’ve been punishing this hamburger and fries. That’s it.”

  Bree worked her lips to the side. “Want me to tell her?”

  “No, it’s okay. I feel like this is all my mess, somehow.”

  “Well, I have some good news,” Bree said. “I actually stopped by to remind you about Dana’s wedding. With everything going on, I kind of figured you forgot. Annnd judging by the look on your face, I was correct.”

  I grinned. “Yeah. Totally forgot.”

  “Well, she sent us tickets to Florida yesterday. I was thinking you, me, and Audria could go get our dresses tomorrow.”

  “A few hundred miles between me and Landon sounds perfect. Sign me up.”

  “You’re already kind of signed up,” Bree said.

  I sighed. “It’s a figure of speech. I’m just saying I’m in.”

  I spent the two days after my naked encounter in the sensory deprivation tub aggressively avoiding Landon, fiddling with some writing projects, and catching up on some Netflix. I’d been wrong about the high school basketball star’s corny line, too. He had said, ‘nothing but dead,’ which was a completely lame play on “nothing but net,” when he shot the death ball into a trash compactor.

  Putting two days between Landon’s big reveal had only made me feel more confused. There was a small, small, part of me that felt sorry for him. That part of me could kind of understand how awkward it was to explain the truth to me. But the rest of me was still firmly of the belief that he’d knowingly deceived me and hid the truth for way too long. The bottom line was I couldn’t trust him, and that was enough to convince me to end the little BDSM experiment, along with any hopes of claiming my share of the inheritance.

  Landon had admitted he planned to give me the share of the hotel whether I finished his list or not, but somehow, I suspected that promise only held when he thought he had a shot with me romantically. Now that I was firmly out of the picture, I didn’t doubt he’d change his mind.

  If nothing else, I knew I was going to be stuck in Florida for a week. That meant even if I had ill-advised urges to give him a second chance, I’d be too far away to act on them. It was an opportunity to let all the chemicals in my system flush out, along with the raging hormones he seemed to cause.

  I sat between Bree and Audria on the plane, and we’d just hit that point where my ears felt like they flooded with wet cotton. I wiggled in my seat in discomfort, then tried to yawn a couple times to no avail.

  Bree was wearing a gigantic black hoodie, which was so far from her normal style that I wanted to laugh out loud every time I looked at her. The sleeves were so big and baggy that she kept having to hold her arms in the air and wiggle them to free her hands.

  “Are you going to tell me what the deal is with your hoodie, or do I have to ask?” I said.

  She pulled the hood over her head, pretending not to hear.

  I yanked her earbuds out and leaned forward, forcing her to acknowledge me. “Tell me, or I’ll tickle it out of you, right here on this plane in front of everybody. And you know what happened last time I tickled you in public.”

  That got her attention. “It’s a friend’s hoodie. He wanted me to have it for the trip since he was worried I’d miss him.”

  I leaned in and sniffed it. “Ahh, yes. I can smell the teenage boy lust all over it. A friend, huh? Is he cute?”

  “He is cute, but it’s not like that. He’s just… Complicated. Okay?”

  Normally, I would’ve officially begun the interrogation and dug out every last detail. Instead, the world complicated only called up an image of Landon’s face. No matter how much annoyance and anger was tangled up with that image, it still made something in my chest feel heavy. Definitely not my heart. It was probably a lung, or something.

  “Woah,” Bree said. As usual, she was frustratingly perceptive. “Not like you to leave low hanging fruit without at least taking a swing.”

  I shrugged. “Sorry. I just couldn’t decide between saying nothing was complicated about giving blowjobs when micropenises are involved or that this guy was absolutely stalking your social accounts by now.”

  “One. I didn’t need to know about your extensive experience with micropenises. Two. He’s just a friend. Seriously.”

  Audria leaned over. “Then why did he practically give that hoodie a bath in his cologne? He’s clearly trying to psychologically program you. He wants you to associate that smell with the great time you’re going to have at the wedding. When you get back, you’ll see him and bam. For some reason the overpowering aroma of his cologne is going to make you feel attracted to him.”

  Bree rolled her eyes.

  “She’s not entirely wrong,” I said. “Classical conditioning. If you pair two stimuli together enough times, our brains make associations between them.”

  “I know all about Pavlov’s dogs,” Bree said with the stuffy, know-it-all tone teenagers were masters of. “Apparently, Grandpa Willy did, too.”

  “Wait,” I said. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that it would’ve been a miracle if you didn’t classically condition yourself to have some good feelings when you see Landon by the time you finish that list. I mean, come on. He was obviously trying to set you two up.”

  “That’s stupid,” I said.

  “Also gross,” Audria added. “Landon is practically her stepbrother, if what he said is true.”

  “Now hold on,” I said. “I don’t think that’s really true. If your adoptive grandfather had a son, he’d be more like…”

  Bree made a barfing gesture. “Yeah. He’s more like your stepdad.”

  Both her and Audria started cracking up.

  “Stop,” I said, covering my face and
laughing. “Technically, it wouldn’t be anything. We were adopted, not married into a family. Either way, I’m over him now so it’s irrelevant.”

  Bree squinted. “Are you though? You were pretty ready to run away. People usually only run from things they’re scared of. And me? I think you’re scared you’ll take him back.”

  Audria nodded wisely. “The old siren call of the cock. It’s deadly, I hear.”

  I gave them both an unamused look. “Believe it or not, my attraction to him died with my trust. So, no. There’s no siren call.”

  Bree blew a raspberry. “Bull. A guy like that could read you passages from the encyclopedia and it’d be erotic.” She dipped her chin and did her best impression of Landon’s deep, gruff voice. “And the male hummingbird slides his beak into the flower’s narrow entrance. If he can’t siphon its precious juices, he won’t have the energy to find another. His life quite literally depends on getting his beak wet.”

  I shook my head, laughing sourly. “I’m just planning to enjoy this wedding. It’ll give me a few days away from Landon and the stupid list. Who knows, maybe I’ll even meet somebody new to take my mind off of him.”

  “Right,” Audria said. “Because you’re totally the type of person to hook up with random guys on a trip.”

  “And,” Bree said. “You’re not exactly prime real estate right now if you think about it. I mean, what kind of new boyfriend wants to find out his woman is working on a BDSM to-do list with Mr. Supermodel?”

  “Was working,” I corrected. “But you guys are right, anyway. I’m hardly a dick magnet, so it’s not like it matters. What’s important is just getting some time away from everything so I can think straight for once.”

  Bree gave my leg a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, Andi. Nobody is a dick magnet. They’re not metallic, so it’s basically impossible.”

  I grinned. “Unless they are heavily pierced.”

  She made a face. “Gross.”

  Audria nodded, as if she had some experience on the topic. “Everybody thinks dick piercings are cool until they come loose and get lodged up your cooch.”

  “Wow,” I said, sticking earbuds in and turning on some music. “What a great time to end the conversation.”

  20

  Landon

  James and Grant were standing inside my office—James with his arms crossed broodingly by the door and Grant doing some kind of yoga stretch against the wall.

  “Could you focus, please?” I asked Grant.

  He turned his head to look at me but was still digging his palm into the small of his back as he tried to arch himself into the shape of a “C”. He groaned in satisfaction. “There it is.” He straightened, rolled his neck, and raised his eyebrows. “I can focus better when I don’t have a tight back.”

  “People in the club are talking,” I said. “After the little show down by the bar, they are convinced Andi is going to inherit the club.”

  “So, go to the lawyers,” Grant suggested. “Claim that shit. If your conscience is a problem, just sort it out later. Once it’s in your name, it’s still your call. What difference does it make if she gets the club from the lawyers, or from you?”

  James pulled a disgusted face. “You’re not seriously considering giving her the club.” It wasn’t even a question. It was a statement, like the idea was so idiotic he didn’t even need to ask.

  I shrugged, glaring. “I don’t know what I’m considering. I just wish I had more time to think.”

  “Yeah,” Grant said. “But you don’t. And unlike you, I don’t need days to figure out something as obvious as grilled cheese and ketchup. Go to the lawyers. Say she bailed on the list. Get your papers, and then you can at least put a pause to the rumors. Show anyone who cares your goddamn name on the title for this place.”

  I scratched at the stubble on my chin in irritation. What he was saying made sense, but it didn’t feel right. It would be yet another move to undermine Andi’s trust. And if I hadn’t already shattered the last hope of fixing things with her, it seemed like finding out I’d gone ahead and stolen her inheritance would.

  “He’s thinking about doing something stupid,” James said in a bored voice.

  Grant squinted. “Yep. Definitely.”

  “There’s something I need to handle first.”

  “Think Sydney and Edward are fucking?” James asked offhandedly.

  “Ohh,” Grant said. “Twisty. I like that. Think they’re fucking? Nah. Sydney’s not the type to join a harem. She’s freaky, but more in a lick your asshole kind of way.”

  I stared. “How would you know?”

  Grant held his hands up. “People tell me things, man. Something about my wise eyes or my friendly disposition, I guess.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” I said dryly.

  “How bad is the affliction?” Grant asked.

  “What?” I asked.

  “These feelings you have for Andi. It has clearly passed beyond the point of logic, or you wouldn’t be making so many stupid decisions for her sake.”

  “Yeah, I have feelings for Andi,” I said. “This would be a lot easier if I didn’t.”

  “I hate to break it to you,” Grant said. “But the situation between you and that girl is a recipe for disaster. I mean, you’re basically one step removed from being the guy who took her hostage. Not only that, you’re sort of compelling her toward sexual acts with you. You also lied about who you were from the get-go. I mean, if that doesn’t round you out to being the last man on earth she’d develop feelings for, I don’t know what does.”

  I’d never admit as much out loud, but Grant had a point. Several, in fact. While I didn’t sign up for this, I also hadn’t done anything to stop it from happening. I could’ve refused my inheritance or agreed to pass it back to her. I could’ve done plenty to avoid how things had played out. Instead, I’d only selfishly focused on my own best interests. I didn’t care if I made some spoiled granddaughter of a wealthy old man uncomfortable. Admittedly, I’d figured she’d run after the first night.

  “What about the wedding?” Grant said.

  “What wedding?”

  “The one Andi left for this morning.”

  I stared. “She left?”

  “Damn,” Grant said. “Your stalking skills are so weak. It’s pathetic. But yes, the woman getting married is the daughter of some rich asshole who was close to William. The wedding is going to be in Florida.”

  “You want him to crash the wedding?” James asked. “To what end?”

  Grant shrugged. “Keep tabs on this woman he has the hots for? I mean, obviously he’s doomed, but he at least can have a front row seat to his own gory end, right?”

  My mind was on Andi and what she might do to vent her anger with me. I thought of her finding some other guy—some person she might sleep with to get me out of her system.

  The idea made me clench my teeth so hard it hurt. “Going to the wedding wouldn’t be the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, Grant.”

  “No,” James said. “But that’s not saying much.”

  “He makes jokes now?” Grant asked, jabbing a thumb toward James. “Guess what, you big, creepy asshole? Your jokes suck. You should stick to being a weird, grouchy statue. It suits you better.”

  James turned to face Grant, who wasn’t short by any standards at a few inches over six feet, but he still seemed small beside James. To his credit, Grant stared up into James’ eyes and didn’t flinch back.

  “Come on. Nobody needs to fight,” I said. “Grant, your plan was good. James, you really aren’t funny. Case closed.”

  “Well,” Grant said. “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you think?” I asked, grabbing my coat and standing.

  21

  Andi

  Dana Whitmoore and I used to be really close. We went to the same high school and her father was friends with Grandpa Willy. But after high school, our lives went in completely different directions. She took over an important job
in her father’s business and became ultra-successful in her own right. Now she was marrying a guy I didn’t know named Jim.

  One thing was immediately evident when we arrived in St. Augustine, Florida, for the wedding. Money was not in short supply. Everybody who was invited had their plane tickets covered and a free room in this sprawling, beautiful old historic hotel. It was nestled in the shade of massive, oak trees and surrounded by green grass in every direction.

  My sisters and I took rooms on the top floor, which we selected after taking an hour-long tour of the building. I could’ve believed I had been transported back to the 1700s when I was in the place. Every scrap of furniture looked antique, but stunningly preserved. The paintings on the walls were all regal and proud depictions of some ancient family line.

  I flopped down on the four-poster bed in my room and sighed contentedly. This was exactly what I needed. Space.

  I could hear Bree and Audria in the rooms on either side of mine as they unpacked their things, but it was still a different kind of quiet out here. After spending most of my life in New York City, I had stopped noticing the background noise a long time ago. I closed my eyes and drank in the silence that seemed to envelop this place like a comfortable little cocoon, but then my mind went somewhere dangerous.

  I remembered the dark room and the sensation of feeling nothing as I floated in the tub. I remembered how my skin had tingled with the knowledge that Landon was so close. And I remembered his hands on my face—his thumb against my lips.

  My door opened and a guy came halfway in with a bag over his shoulder.

  I shot up on the bed, eyes wide and breathless.

  “Oh, shit,” he said. “Sorry—I didn’t realize someone was in here. I was trying to find my room.”

  I squinted. I recognized him. It had been several years since I’d seen him, and he’d put on muscle in the right places and grown up since then. “Tommy?”