Page 27
Story: Promise Me Forever
“You know what would make me happy right now? More booze.”
I stand up and head to the bar. This isn’t the kind of place that stretches to table service, and right now I’m glad. I need to stretch my legs and give my mind a moment to settle. By the time I’ve ordered, paid, and brought everything back, I’ve decided that I don’t need to hide this from him.
“So,” I say, as I sit opposite him. “A funny thing happened.”
“Did it involve a retired clown?”
“It did not. It involved the woman from the wedding.”
“Scarlet, wasn’t it?”
I grin at him. “No, not Scarlet actually. That was just a game we were playing. Her real name is Amelia Ryder, and guess what? Turns out she’s my new secretary.”
“Wait? What? The one Nathan hired for you? You fucked her? And she’s named AmeliaRyder? Is she a Bond girl?”
There’s a lot to unpack there, so I let him splutter over it for a few seconds longer. “Yes, her name is Ryder, and believe me, I have thought of all the puns already. And yes, the one Nathan hired for me—which is why I had no clue who she was the night I met her at the wedding.”
“Are you sure she didn’t know? I mean, I hate to be cynical, but you’re a good-looking dude who comes from money. Is it at all possible she, I don’t know, targeted you?”
I cast my mind back to the night we met. The sweet, sad look on her face as she sat there alone, coloring with crayons. The way she bit her plump lower lip, how surprised she was when she looked up and saw me. Jeez. Even thinking about that moment is going straight to my balls, and that is not an appropriate wayto feel while sitting with your brother in a place like this. “No possible way. She thought I was Charlie for most of the night.”
“Charlie Cockburn-Cummings? I’d forgotten about him.” He laughs softly, and then he’s distant again for a few seconds, and I wonder if he’s thinking about how he and Amber used to laugh together in the good old days. Before…
I clear my throat and, that seems to snap his attention back to the matter at hand. “Nathan knows, I guess? Did he give you chapter and verse about the HR implications?”
“To start with, yeah. He considered firing her, but thankfully realized that would be the worst thing we could do. But the fact he even considered it didn’t seem fair. She needs this job. Her mom is sick, and she’s gone through a bad divorce, and although I shouldn’t know any of this personal shit about my new secretary, I do. And I can’t just ignore it. I can’t ignore her.”
My mind springs back to earlier, when I found myself walking behind her. That skin-tight skirt made it impossible to take my eyes off her swaying backside, and the front view was even worse—or better. The day before was the wrap dress with its little strings, and today was a silky blouse with a great big bow at the neck. A great big bow just begging to be untied. It’s like she’s torturing me without even knowing it.
Elijah clears his throat, and I blink at him. I completely forgot he was there for a moment. I was lost in the image of tying Amelia up, of capturing her in a web of rope. Seeing her soft skin marked and patterned, her round breasts exposed to my touch… fuck. This is not good at all.
“I lost you for a minute there, buddy. You thinking about Amelia?”
“No,” I lie. “I was thinking about an especially tricky case I’m dealing with.”
He regards me with suspicion. “You were thinking about Amelia.”
I sigh and run my hands through my hair. I do that when I’m stressed, and these days I seem to live with my hands in my stupid hair. “Yeah, I was. I can’t stop thinking about her, bro. I can’t possibly talk to Nathan about it. We agreed that she could stay, but only if I promised it was over. I want her to stay—of course I do. And I can’t be the asshole who bangs the help.”
“To start, I wouldn’t call her ‘the help’ to her face. At least not if you want to keep your balls attached. But yeah, of course I get it. We weren’t raised to take advantage. We were raised to understand how privileged we were, and to never use that privilege against others. But… Look, I’m just going to say this once and get it out there. If you actually have real feelings for this woman, little brother, then none of the rest matters. If you think you have a chance at finding love with her, then you should go for it. Figure the rest of the shit out as you go.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. He might be older than me, but sometimes I feel like his dad. His bitter, twisted old dad. The kind who doesn’t believe love exists, never mind being ready to give and receive it.
“What I feel for Amelia Ryder isn’t anywhere near love, Elijah. It’s more basic than that. Something about the woman screams ‘fuck me’ every single time I’m with her. I can’t see her walking down the hallway without wanting to be balls-deep in her. I can’t speak to her on the phone without my dick getting hard. I can’t look at my desk without wanting to bend her over it and screw her brains out. I’m a fucking mess—but I’m not in love.”
“You sure?” he says, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Nathan didn’t expect love either, and look at him now.”
“I’m sure. Love isn’t for me. I’m not the kind of man who can ever promise a woman forever.”
“Okay then,” he murmurs, shrugging like he doesn’t believe me.
And I guess I can’t blame him. I’m not sure I believe me either.
Chapter
Thirteen
AMELIA
I stand up and head to the bar. This isn’t the kind of place that stretches to table service, and right now I’m glad. I need to stretch my legs and give my mind a moment to settle. By the time I’ve ordered, paid, and brought everything back, I’ve decided that I don’t need to hide this from him.
“So,” I say, as I sit opposite him. “A funny thing happened.”
“Did it involve a retired clown?”
“It did not. It involved the woman from the wedding.”
“Scarlet, wasn’t it?”
I grin at him. “No, not Scarlet actually. That was just a game we were playing. Her real name is Amelia Ryder, and guess what? Turns out she’s my new secretary.”
“Wait? What? The one Nathan hired for you? You fucked her? And she’s named AmeliaRyder? Is she a Bond girl?”
There’s a lot to unpack there, so I let him splutter over it for a few seconds longer. “Yes, her name is Ryder, and believe me, I have thought of all the puns already. And yes, the one Nathan hired for me—which is why I had no clue who she was the night I met her at the wedding.”
“Are you sure she didn’t know? I mean, I hate to be cynical, but you’re a good-looking dude who comes from money. Is it at all possible she, I don’t know, targeted you?”
I cast my mind back to the night we met. The sweet, sad look on her face as she sat there alone, coloring with crayons. The way she bit her plump lower lip, how surprised she was when she looked up and saw me. Jeez. Even thinking about that moment is going straight to my balls, and that is not an appropriate wayto feel while sitting with your brother in a place like this. “No possible way. She thought I was Charlie for most of the night.”
“Charlie Cockburn-Cummings? I’d forgotten about him.” He laughs softly, and then he’s distant again for a few seconds, and I wonder if he’s thinking about how he and Amber used to laugh together in the good old days. Before…
I clear my throat and, that seems to snap his attention back to the matter at hand. “Nathan knows, I guess? Did he give you chapter and verse about the HR implications?”
“To start with, yeah. He considered firing her, but thankfully realized that would be the worst thing we could do. But the fact he even considered it didn’t seem fair. She needs this job. Her mom is sick, and she’s gone through a bad divorce, and although I shouldn’t know any of this personal shit about my new secretary, I do. And I can’t just ignore it. I can’t ignore her.”
My mind springs back to earlier, when I found myself walking behind her. That skin-tight skirt made it impossible to take my eyes off her swaying backside, and the front view was even worse—or better. The day before was the wrap dress with its little strings, and today was a silky blouse with a great big bow at the neck. A great big bow just begging to be untied. It’s like she’s torturing me without even knowing it.
Elijah clears his throat, and I blink at him. I completely forgot he was there for a moment. I was lost in the image of tying Amelia up, of capturing her in a web of rope. Seeing her soft skin marked and patterned, her round breasts exposed to my touch… fuck. This is not good at all.
“I lost you for a minute there, buddy. You thinking about Amelia?”
“No,” I lie. “I was thinking about an especially tricky case I’m dealing with.”
He regards me with suspicion. “You were thinking about Amelia.”
I sigh and run my hands through my hair. I do that when I’m stressed, and these days I seem to live with my hands in my stupid hair. “Yeah, I was. I can’t stop thinking about her, bro. I can’t possibly talk to Nathan about it. We agreed that she could stay, but only if I promised it was over. I want her to stay—of course I do. And I can’t be the asshole who bangs the help.”
“To start, I wouldn’t call her ‘the help’ to her face. At least not if you want to keep your balls attached. But yeah, of course I get it. We weren’t raised to take advantage. We were raised to understand how privileged we were, and to never use that privilege against others. But… Look, I’m just going to say this once and get it out there. If you actually have real feelings for this woman, little brother, then none of the rest matters. If you think you have a chance at finding love with her, then you should go for it. Figure the rest of the shit out as you go.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. He might be older than me, but sometimes I feel like his dad. His bitter, twisted old dad. The kind who doesn’t believe love exists, never mind being ready to give and receive it.
“What I feel for Amelia Ryder isn’t anywhere near love, Elijah. It’s more basic than that. Something about the woman screams ‘fuck me’ every single time I’m with her. I can’t see her walking down the hallway without wanting to be balls-deep in her. I can’t speak to her on the phone without my dick getting hard. I can’t look at my desk without wanting to bend her over it and screw her brains out. I’m a fucking mess—but I’m not in love.”
“You sure?” he says, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Nathan didn’t expect love either, and look at him now.”
“I’m sure. Love isn’t for me. I’m not the kind of man who can ever promise a woman forever.”
“Okay then,” he murmurs, shrugging like he doesn’t believe me.
And I guess I can’t blame him. I’m not sure I believe me either.
Chapter
Thirteen
AMELIA
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