One to Keep

by Sophie Oak

  to? I liked it better when we didn’t talk.”

  He did, too, but this was morning, and they had to face reality.

  “Jennifer, last night was a mistake.”

  Her eyes slid away from his. “You bastard.”

  He didn’t argue. He was a bastard. He’d taken her last night when

  he’d known it was wrong. “It was a mistake, and I take full

  responsibility. It wasn’t your fault. I took advantage of you.”

  Now she looked at him, tears shining in her eyes. “Because I

  wasn’t here at all, was I? Because I didn’t make a choice? What the

  hell am I to you, Stef?”

  “You’re a friend,” he said gently.

  “No, I am not. People trust their friends. You said once that I

  knew nothing of trust, but you’re the one who doesn’t trust me. You

  think I’m a child, but I’m not. I know what I want, Stef. I want you.”

  She leaned toward him, holding her hand out. “Last night wasn’t a

  mistake. This morning is, can’t you see that?”

  “Jennifer, I remember being twenty-three. It’s not the easiest time

  in your life. There are lots of things that you think you want, but you simply don’t have the experience to know.”

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  Now she stood. “Fuck you, Stef. Get out of my house. I’m not

  some child, but you’re never going to see it. You’re never going to

  see me as anything but some airhead kid.”

  “I’d prefer to talk about this reasonably.”

  “Screw reason. I’m done reasoning with you. I’ve begged and

  pleaded and made a fool of myself. Well, I’m done with all of that,

  Stef. And I’m done with you, so feel free to leave.”

  “Last night you loved me, and this morning you’re through.”

  Everything she said just made his point.

  She shrugged. “Well, I guess you were right about me, then. Out!”

  He left, the door slamming behind him and the worst feeling in the

  pit of his stomach telling him that he’d fucked everything up. He’d

  intended to be gentle, to talk it out. As he walked away, he thought he heard her cry. He’d knocked on the door, but it was locked this time.

  He’d stood there, hand on the door, and wished he could go back in

  and hold her.

  He left a few moments later, but that afternoon he’d been back

  like a moth to the flame. He’d come with flowers he’d bought at the

  Trading Post and plans to, at least, talk this out. He couldn’t stand the thought of her feeling down. Maybe, he’d thought, maybe, they could

  try.

  Her apartment had been empty of anything that was personal.

  Only the furniture remained. She’d packed up and left in a matter of

  hours.

  He’d walked out, tossing the flowers in the trash. It was better this

  way, he’d told himself. It was better that she left now, rather than

  later.

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  Chapter Four

  Stef was jarred awake as the chair he sat in was forcefully kicked.

  He sat up straight, forcing himself to come out of the dream he’d been having. It was a familiar dream, one he had every night. He’d made

  love to Jennifer again. He’d chased her down and taken her. He’d

  made her his. She’d been soft and utterly submissive by the time he’d

  gotten her underneath him. It had been perfect in his dream because

  this time he’d said the words he wanted to say. This time he’d made it right, and she hadn’t left him.

  When his vision cleared he saw the reason he couldn’t say the

  words. His father was asleep in the chair across from him, his eyes

  closed and a blanket around his body. He was older, more fragile than

  Stef had ever seen him. His father was a rock. His father was a

  workaholic who never seemed to have an emotion, much less show

  one.

  Except that one day. The day his mother had left them alone. He

  remembered very little besides shouting and his mother’s

  pronouncement that no amount of money made up for being tied to a

  husband and a kid. But he remembered his father’s knees hitting the

  floor. He remembered the way his father had clung to him as he cried.

  The next day, Sebastian Talbot had been back to smooth, CEO

  perfection as if nothing had happened. He’d divorced his young bride

  and never mentioned her name again. It had been years before Stef

  had heard anything about her, and then it had been a single e-mail

  explaining she’d remarried and requested contact. He’d been twenty.

  He’d deleted it and blocked her from his e-mail.

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  Stef let his eyes slide to Jen’s sleeping form. She was even

  younger than his mother had been when she married his father.

  “You want to explain to me why your father thinks you’re going

  to marry my wife?” Nate’s low growl brought Stef out of his revelry.

  He’d whispered the question, but it jarred Sebastian.

  “What?” His father sat straight up and glanced around. There

  seemed to be a moment’s panic as though he didn’t remember where

  he was, but then a smile lit his face. He stretched and moved aside the blanket the flight attendant had settled on him while he was sleeping.

  “Sorry. I must have fallen asleep. I tire easily these days. I’m afraid I was dreaming. How far are we from Bliss?”

  Nate backed off. “Another twenty minutes, Mr. Talbot.”

  Sebastian shook his head. “No, no, Nathan. That won’t do. Please

  call me Sebastian. Half the time Stefan does. I can’t wait to see Bliss again.”

  The panic was back. His father was coming home. “Dad, this is

  insane. You don’t vacation. The whole time I was growing up, you

  rarely left the office.”

  He turned and looked out the window. He took in the gorgeous

  mountain views. “That’s not true, son. I spent two whole years in

  Bliss running the company from the estate. It worked well then. Given

  today’s technology it would be even easier now. Don’t worry. I won’t

  be a pest. I’ll stay in the guesthouse.”

  “No!” Both he and Nate shouted the denial.

  “The guesthouse is drafty,” Nate managed to sputter. “It’s really

  cold right now. You’ve been in Texas for a long time. Colorado

  winters are hard.”

  Stef was glad Nate was such a quick thinker. He nodded. “Yes,

  the guesthouse needs some renovations.”

  The guesthouse was perfectly comfy. It was also filled with sex

  toys. Often it was where he kept his subs when they came for training.

  Of course, for the last six months the place had been empty except

  when Max and Rye had brought their wife there to play. Stef hadn’t

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  brought in a sub since that night with Jennifer. It had seemed wrong

  somehow.

  Sebastian shrugged as he got out of his seat. Stef noticed his father

  had lost a lot of weight. He seemed small and frail. “Well, there are

  six bedrooms. I’m sure we’ll all manage. I promise you’ll barely

  know I’m there.”

  He walked toward the back of the plane and disappeared into the

  bathroom.

  Jen’s eyes came open. She looked sleepy and soft. A secret little

  smile curled those plump lips of her
s up. “Liars. What’s up, Stef?

  Don’t want your dad to find your stash of butt plugs?”

  Stef shuddered to think about it. There were far more exotic toys

  than anal plugs. “I’m more worried about what he would say about

  the St. Andrew’s Cross. He also might think the new violet wand I

  bought is a massager. Really, it’s best he doesn’t go into the

  guesthouse. For all our sakes.”

  “He might know you better than you think. Our parents tend to

  know us better than we imagine,” Jen said, pulling a blanket around

  her. Stef pulled his blanket off his body and handed it to her. She

  didn’t argue, simply tucked it around her and settled back down.

  “I don’t think he knows you at all,” Nate said. His face was

  flushed, his jaw perfectly square. “Especially since he thinks you’re sleeping with my wife.”

  Jen grinned at the sheriff. “Didn’t you know, Nate? Callie’s been

  his beard for years. Ever since they were teens.”

  “She is not my beard. For god’s sake, Jennifer.” She was making

  far more of this than was true. He and Callie had a very simple

  agreement. She pretended to be his girlfriend, and he did stuff for her.

  They took care of each other. He turned to Nate. “On several

  occasions Callie accompanied me to Dallas. My father would

  summon me from time to time, and Callie went with me. He never

  made me stay for long. Maybe his conscience got to him, I don’t

  know.”

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  “Maybe he just wanted to see his son,” Jen offered.

  “I doubt it. I found it awkward and unsettling to have to go to my

  father’s place. I did not consider it home. It’s strange. I was born in Dallas, raised there for years, but even at the age of eight, I knew

  Bliss was my home. I fought him when he decided to move back to

  Dallas, and he left me there with two nannies and a staff of ten. He

  summoned me home twice a year, but ignored me when I was there.

  He had meetings, you see. What he really wanted to do was lecture

  me. When I was seventeen he asked whether I had a girlfriend. I told

  him no and was immediately presented with several applicants for the

  position. I doubt it had much to do with my happiness. He simply

  wanted me to marry the right sort of girl.”

  Jen’s eyebrow arched. “Callie must have come as a surprise.”

  “Callie’s the right sort of girl. Callie’s the perfect girl.” Nate was unwavering in support of his oft-naked wife.

  Stef felt himself smile. He loved Callie Sheppard, though not in

  the way his father thought. She was the sister he’d never had. Callie

  was a brilliant combination of quirky and strong. She was just like the town where she had been born. And she was completely the wrong

  sort of woman for a man concerned with high society to marry. She

  spent far too much time at naturist camps to be comfy with jet-setters.

  And yet his father had taken to Callie right away. He’d been

  utterly charmed by her. Every time Stef had brought her to Dallas, his father had taken them out, and not once had he tried to change her or

  talked to Stef about her beyond how sweet she was. Every time his

  father called, he asked about Callie.

  “Okay, I get why you used her as your fake girlfriend when you

  were younger, but you’re thirty-two now and she’s taken,” Nate said,

  sounding more reasonable. “Don’t you think it’s time you came

  clean?”

  “How many phone calls from your father have you ducked lately,

  Wright?” Stef knew where to shove the knife in. Nate was completely

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  estranged from his father, but the man kept calling. He seemed to

  think Nate should loan him money.

  Nate sighed and sat back. “Family. What are you going to do?”

  Stef knew exactly what he was going to do. “I’m going to let it

  ride. My dad wants me to be happy with Callie? Fine. I’ll tell him I’m going to ask her to marry me soon, and we’ll leave it at that. He’s

  been sick. This is a phase. Trust me, the first emergency at Talbot

  Industries, and his CEO hat will be right back on. He’ll go back to

  Dallas, and I’ll get a Christmas card from his secretary.”

  “Are you forgetting that I’m Callie’s husband? Well, I’m one of

  her husbands. We’re not looking for a fourth, Stef.”

  Now was the time to bring out his big guns. “And who facilitated

  your marriage? Who introduced you in the first place? Who gave you

  a job and a place to stash the big guy when he was all post-

  traumatically stressed out?”

  Nate’s jaw became a hard line.

  Jen just nodded at Nate. “See, King Stefan. Just like I said. The

  king giveth and then expects payback when you least expect it. First

  it’s a simple ‘hey, come get Jen out of jail with me,’ and now you

  have to give him access to your wife.”

  Her teasing made him want to spank her. He really didn’t need

  that mental image now. “I am not demanding to sleep with Callie. I

  am simply borrowing her in an attempt to misrepresent my love life to

  my father.”

  Nate sat back, but suddenly a smile spread across his face. It made

  Stef unaccountably nervous. “You’re right. I owe you. You know

  what? Callie is meeting us at the airport. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see your father again. I’ll just step back and let you have your little ruse.”

  “Thank you.” It solved one of his problems.

  Jen was gaping at Nate. “You are so mean, Sheriff.”

  “I am entirely reasonable.” Nate smirked, and Stef wondered if he

  was missing something.

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  Before he could really process the problem, the plane began a

  turn.

  The flight attendant walked in and announced it was time to

  buckle up. Sebastian came out and began talking about his plans for

  his stay in Bliss.

  Stef just wanted the whole thing to be over.

  * * * *

  Alexei Markov stared down at the man currently being worked

  over by his partner, Ivan. Jean Claude Renard had started out like they all did, with threats and promises of retribution because he was such

  an important person. And like almost all the rest, he was just a

  sniveling mass of begging, pleading flesh after a couple of minutes

  with Ivan. Despite his deep loathing of the man, Alexei had to admit

  that Ivan was the master at what he did.

  “It was here, I tell you. I hid the damn thing just like I promised.”

  He managed to get the words out of his swollen lips. “Somehow she

  must have figured it out.”

  Ivan hit him again. Alexei could have told Renard that it didn’t

  matter what he said. Ivan would use him like a punching bag because

  he was a sadistic son of a bitch. Of course, a certain streak of sadism was always required when one became a mob enforcer.

  Sadism, or a well-defined and patient sense of revenge.

  He couldn’t help Renard even if he wanted to, and he didn’t. If he

  did, he put everything he’d worked years for at risk. He was so close

  to getting in the same room with Pushkin that he could taste it. Then

  he would be free.

  Ivan stared down a
t his victim. “My boss would like his package.

  He paid for it, and he would like it now. I have to be on plane to

  Moscow in four hours. We can use that time to bundle up the

  package, or I can simply beat on you until we board. It is up to you. It make no difference to me.”

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  47

  Ivan’s English was decent, though he sounded like it pained him

  to speak anything but Russian. Alexei was well aware his could use a

  bit of work, but he’d spent a lot of time watching American television and becoming accustomed to their ways. If he survived his meeting

  with Pushkin, he would find a way to build a new life in this country.

  He would be free here.

  Well, he would be an illegal immigrant on the run from both the

  Russian police and the mob, but at least he wouldn’t have to listen to Ivan anymore. Ivan was a brute. Having to share a room with him for

  the last year had been trying to say the least. The man did not

  understand that the world had made great strides in personal hygiene

  products. He seemed to think smelling like a bear made him more

  intimidating.

  Alexei tapped a foot on the floor. He was so tired of being a

  lackey. He needed to be back in Russia, doing whatever it took to get

  close to the man. “Or he could give back money to Pushkin. With

  twenty-percent increase for all our trouble.”

  Ivan snorted. Alexei knew that it wouldn’t satisfy Pushkin, but it

  would buy this idiot an hour or two to come to his senses. He wasn’t

  sure why Renard had decided to renege on his deal with the head of

  one of Russia’s most notorious crime syndicates, but he seemed a

  reasonable man. Most people wanted to live. Alexei did some quick

  calculations. If he got Renard to come to his senses and give up the

  package by five, he could be home in roughly twenty-four hours. He

  could deliver the package himself. Pushkin was being strangely

  paranoid about this one painting. He wanted to meet with Ivan and

  Alexei himself to take the package into custody. But first he had to

  convince Renard to give up the painting.

  A wet cough came out of Renard’s chest. “Sure. I can do that. I

  just need a little time to get the money.”

  Alexei felt his eyebrows rise. “I was told Pushkin sent you two