Page 22 of Bad for Business (Pembroke Hills #2)

TWENTY-TWO

CAMILLE

I stare at the water in front of me, swishing my feet around in the pool, enjoying the feel of the cool water on my skin.

I’ve never been one who enjoys being in pools, but sitting safely on the ledge and dipping my toes in the one at the Davenports’ house has become one of my favorite nightly rituals.

I always leave my phone inside and give myself just a few minutes of peace. The rolling waves of the ocean and the faint rustling of the leaves moving in the breeze are the only sounds to be heard tonight.

It’s peaceful. And peaceful is just what I need after getting off the phone with my father.

Talking to him is exhausting. I wanted to tell him all about the progress Ryker is making.

That he’s doing great at not only forming relationships with the board members but impressing them as well.

We’re three weeks into the summer, and I have a good feeling that by the end of it, the board will have full confidence in Ryker taking over Davenport Media.

Instead, when my dad asked how things were going, I lied.

I told him it was just okay. I don’t know why I felt the need to lie about it, but something in my gut told me that telling him how great things were going wasn’t the best idea.

He’s so confident Ryker won’t be able to pull it off that I don’t know if I want to change his opinion. At least not yet.

“There you are.” Ryker’s voice breaks me from my thoughts.

I turn around, finding him walking toward me. He still wears his suit from the evening. I try not to think about how good he looks in it.

“How’d it go?” I ask, making sure to keep my voice controlled. Tonight was an event for the male members of the club. It was some kind of tasting and auction, gearing up for Pembroke’s annual charity golf tournament in two days.

“It went well.” Ryker tugs at his tie. He effortlessly loosens the knot, letting the tie drape around his neck.

I surprise myself by not objecting when he takes a seat next to me. He angles his body toward mine so the tips of his dress shoes almost touch my thigh.

I hadn’t expected Ryker to be home so early, and now I’m questioning the decision to come outside in only a cotton nightie. I’d thrown a light sweater over it, but it definitely is fewer clothes than I’m used to wearing around him.

“That’s good to hear,” I respond, not knowing what else to say.

Ever since the afternoon on the boat, the bickering has died down, at least a little bit. I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m not used to it yet.

“You’re not going to ask me any more questions about the night?” Ryker prods. He sits up so his forearms rest on top of his knees. The way he’s sitting seems so casual for the nice suit he’s wearing.

My lips twitch as I try to fight the smile. “I want to ask you more questions, but I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you.”

Ryker lets out a dramatic gasp. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you trusted me? Can I have you say that again so I know I’m hearing you correctly?”

I roll my eyes. “You already know I trust you. If I didn’t, I would’ve shown up tonight.”

“It was for the men of the club.”

“Yeah, well, the fact that women weren’t invited is stupid.”

He laughs. “There’s an event for the female members tomorrow. The auctions are different. I wonder if Pembroke does two separate ones so people spend more money.”

“Probably.”

We both settle into a comfortable silence.

Ryker is the one to eventually break it. “My mom always used to sit out here at night,” he offers, his voice soft.

My feet continue to make circles in the water, but my eyes focus on him.

I haven’t pushed him on talking about his mom, no matter how badly I’ve wanted to know more about her.

Her death is the reason he went from being the media’s golden boy to someone they tear apart online.

I’d love to know more about her. I feel like it’d help me understand Ryker more.

I try to convince myself that the only reason I want to understand Ryker more is because of my job.

It’s a lie. The reason I want to understand him better is completely selfish and has nothing to do with me being his publicist.

“It’s beautiful out here.” My gaze travels over the large backyard.

It’s truly picked straight out of a magazine.

Even with only the light of the moon to illuminate the space, it’s breathtaking.

The pool is massive, and there are stone pavers and landscaping all around it, creating an oasis.

Both sides of the yard have tall trees and bushes, making the backyard feel closed off from any neighbors.

Their property is also a beachfront one. The backyard leads right to the beach and then the water. One of these nights, I want to be brave enough to go dip my toes in the ocean, but I haven’t made it that far yet. For now, it’s stunning to look at.

“Yeah,” Ryker agrees, his voice hushed. I’d been so swept up in taking in the views in front of me that I forgot I even said anything. “This place truly was my mother’s favorite place in the world.” He looks over at me with a sad smile. “I wish you could’ve met her. She would’ve loved you.”

I don’t know why, but his words hit me right in the chest. It’s obvious how much he loved her, and for some reason, him telling me she would’ve loved me is something I really wanted to hear.

I yank my gaze from his and look at my feet in the water. I hate how my cheeks warm at his words. “She probably actually wouldn’t have. I don’t always make a good first impression on moms…or anyone, really. People don’t exactly think I’m the friendliest. Especially when they first meet me.”

“She would’ve loved you,” he repeats, his words confident and full of conviction.

I want to look at him so badly, but I can’t.

I can’t quite figure out why something about tonight has felt different.

Maybe it’s not just tonight. Maybe it really has been since that afternoon on the boat.

We both came back a little less mean to one another.

Maybe it’s because we’ve both accepted that we work well together.

Or maybe it’s something else. Either way, I hate to admit how good it feels for him to tell me his mom would’ve liked me.

I just don’t know if I believe him. “I’m not so sure about that,” I respond, letting out a long sigh.

“Why do you do that?” Ryker asks, clearly blurting out the question without taking the time to think it through.

I can’t fight the urge to look at him any longer.

I bring my gaze to his, my head feeling fuzzy because of the intense way he looks right back at me.

The darkness of the night makes his brown eyes seem even darker.

The color might not be as light as it normally is, but there’s still nothing but warmth in the gaze staring back at me.

“Do what?” I whisper.

“Refuse to accept a compliment.” He leans forward, resting his chin on his forearm as he focuses on me.

I shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. One of us needs to go.

He’s my client, and I’m too tired to put up the wall I normally have with him. Lying to my dad drained me. And now that I’ve sat out here feeling guilty about it, I’m too tired to pretend to hate Ryker.

I also have to remind myself that the man staring back at me hurt me.

It’s not something I like admitting to myself, but there was something about the night we met that felt special to me.

He seemed like a good guy. He seemed like he liked me.

I let my guard down with him and was quickly reminded why I always have a guard up in the first place when I woke up alone the next morning.

Ryker’s gaze rakes over my face. I’ve never really cared to know what people think about me. It’s better to not know. But right now, I want to know everything that’s running through his head.

“Don’t avoid my question,” he demands, his voice husky and doing things to my body it absolutely shouldn’t.

Did I drink tonight?

I know I didn’t, but my head feels fuzzy enough to question that fact. I haven’t had a sip of alcohol. Meaning the buzz I’m feeling is because of him and him alone.

“I’m not avoiding it,” I answer. I sigh, pulling my legs out of the water and turning my body to face his.

I pull my legs into my chest as well. We’re mirroring each other, sitting on the ledge of the pool, our feet side by side.

We don’t touch at all, but something about the position seems intimate.

I wonder if I should scoot back.

I can’t.

I’m locked in his stare.

“Then tell me why you’re always defensive.”

His question feels like a slap to the face. I wasn’t expecting it. “That wasn’t what you said,” I point out, my words barely above a whisper. “You asked why I refused to take a compliment and didn’t mention anything about me being defensive.”

I try not to focus on the twitch of his lips as they turn into a cocky smirk.

God, I’ve wanted to wipe a smirk from his mouth so many times in the weeks since we’ve been here. Now, the only way I want to get rid of that smirk is by pressing my lips to it.

I close my eyes for a moment.

What is happening to me?

I need to get inside.

This is Ryker Davenport.

My client.

The bane of my existence.

The reason I think I found my very first gray hair the other day at the ripe age of twenty-four.

I shouldn’t want to kiss him.

But I absolutely want to kiss him.

It’s the only thing I can think about right now.

I open my eyes to find his gaze locked on my lips.

It seems I’m the only one thinking about kissing the other and I don’t know if that realization is thrilling or terrifying.

“I think you not being able to take a compliment comes from you being defensive. They go hand in hand. So tell me, why are you always so defensive?”

I swallow, my entire body feeling tight from the question.

Even though our walls seem to be lowered, at least for the moment, I don’t want to be fully honest with Ryker.

I can’t be. I can’t even explain to myself why it feels like I need to always have my guard up around others.

All I know is that the thought of opening up and being vulnerable makes my skin crawl.

If they don’t accept you because they don’t even know you, that’s an easy pill to swallow.

But what if you open up to someone and show them the most vulnerable parts of yourself, just for them to still not accept you? That’s devastating. A feeling I avoid at all costs.

Ryker waits patiently, something that takes me by surprise. He’s not patient. Ever. Yet here he is, allowing me the time I need to answer his question without feeling the need to fill the silence.

“I’m just shy,” I offer, my fingers twisting the end of my hair around my finger. “And reserved,” I add as an afterthought.

Ryker shakes his head. “That’s a cop-out. Give me the real answer.”

My lips part in shock. I wasn’t expecting him to be so blunt and call me out.

“I don’t know, Ryker,” I answer, my gaze moving to the ground. I can’t look into his brown eyes for another second. “It’s just who I am. I’ve always been this way.”

Why is it that the one person I should have my guard up around the most is the one person I’m wanting to let in at this very moment?

I jump when his fingers connect with my chin. He gently coaxes my face up until my eyes meet his.

He’s closer than I was expecting, his broad shoulders and chiseled face blocking out the rest of the world, so I can’t focus on anything but him.

“But that’s not actually true. The more I think about it, the more I know that’s a lie.

You made me work for it, but you opened up for me the night we met.

You can lie to yourself, you can even lie to the rest of the world, but you can’t lie to me.

You don’t always have to be defensive. You’re just choosing to be. ”

His gaze flicks to my lips as his words unravel me. My chest feels heavy, and for some reason, my eyes sting with unshed tears. I don’t know what it is about his words that cut deep, but they slice right through me.

He doesn’t have the right to point out that I opened up to him. Not when he wanted nothing to do with me the next morning.

Ryker’s fingers glide along my jawline until he cups my face.

He leans in, and the heat in his eyes and the way his tongue peeks out to wet his lips tells me he wants to kiss me.

Matter of fact…I think he’s going to kiss me.

His face gets closer, his breath caressing my lips.

“Do me a favor and don’t get defensive,” he says, his voice slightly shaking. “At least open up enough to let me kiss you again.”

I wonder if he can feel my racing pulse underneath his fingertips. My body shakes with anticipation. Or maybe it’s with the fear of letting him do this to me again. I’ve opened up to him before and he made me instantly regret it.

His lips brush against mine with the lightest touch before I’m pushing his body away from mine and putting as much distance between us as possible.

No matter how badly I want him to kiss me, it can never happen again.