Page 22

Reddington

I didn’t like being strong-armed into doing shit.

Worse was when I didn’t have any real control in the matter and had to roll with the punches as dickwads like Mark Cavallo threw them. Which was why a chill ran down my spine when his name popped up on my phone, alerting me to an incoming call.

“Mark, how’s it going?” I asked, answering in an aloof way, stepping out of my home office to stretch my legs.

Truth was, I didn’t actually care how it was going.

Unless it involved him investing in my company.

You know, in that he decided to put me out of my misery and was going to stop pulling the strings, making me feel like his damn puppet.

“Can’t complain. I’m having a good smoke at the cigar lounge, but, Red, it ends there because my wife’s upset.”

And my fiancée was a wise ass. But what did that have to do with anything?

Seriously, what was this, the day to share stuff no one asked to hear about? I was failing to see how this was my problem.

I didn’t say any of that, though. Instead, I answered a touch more diplomatically. “Doesn’t seem too good. What can I do to help?” Because I was assuming if he was telling me, it was because he thought I could do something. I doubted it, but here we were regardless.

I could only imagine the smoke skulking out of his mouth. “Sherrilyn found out your fiancée is playing tennis with your mother at the club. Sherrilyn’s feeling left out. You understand.”

Hmm. Let me think on that one.

Hold please.

Thinking.

Still thinking.

Nope.

I had nothing.

I didn’t understand.

“Listen, Mark—”

“Sherrilyn is inviting you and Jade to the entire weekend of our celebratory activities.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

What I meant to say was, what the actual fuck are you talking about ?

He cleared his throat. “I’ll send you the event schedule with the details, but we’re looking at a welcome sail, the vow renewal ceremony and reception, and a farewell brunch.

” They were already married, so why were they making such a big deal out of this?

I’d been to wedding weekends before, but that made sense. Vow renewal weekends, not so much.

I sat down on my black leather sofa and hunched forward, leaning my elbows on my knees. “We appreciate the extended invitation, but we wouldn’t want to impose.” And I couldn’t imagine this being a good idea. Far too many opportunities for one of us to slip up.

“Not an imposition.” He coughed. He might’ve wanted to quit that little smoking habit. “Already got you included in the room block.”

I was almost afraid to ask, but could this day get any worse? “Are you sure?” Hurry, maybe if we all said a quick prayer, then he’d change his mind.

“Yes, and I have to say, I’m not a fan of an argumentative side in business partners.”

Partners? Maybe he forgot, but I wanted him to be a silent investor. Best not to point that out, though. “We’ll be there, Mark. Thanks for the invite.”

After we exchanged pleasant goodbyes and shit, I clapped a hand on my knee, ran a hand through my hair, and cursed.

I wasn’t superstitious or anything, but if I was, I’d think this was all going down because it was the thirteenth of the month.

My father’s second wife would insist that was the only way to describe this garbage day.

She was superstitious. Believed in the seven years of bad luck that followed if you broke a mirror, too.

But then again, she also believed in sleeping with men three times her age, so what the hell did she know?

Just as I was about to get up, there was a knock at the door.

A muscle jumped in my jaw as I tried to rein in the immense heat burning through my veins.

I swore if this was my mother, here to tell me that tennis was a disaster and that I shouldn’t be marrying Jade, then I might just strangle myself.

I swung the door open and was pleasantly surprised to see Jade.

I clenched my teeth as a sharp, gutting feeling hit me square in the chest. It would have been near impossible not to notice the lush curve of her lips.

They were sparkling and had a hint more of a pinkish hue to them than usual.

She looked just the way I liked her—au naturel.

Don’t mess with something that isn’t broken.

I lived by that saying, and it was never more true than in Jade’s case.

On her worst day, she looked like a goddess. Looking at her was a treat for my eyes. I could stare at her all day and still not get tired of seeing her.

I couldn’t believe I was about to admit this, but I think my mother had been right.

I think Jade should live with me. Gross, so you could stare at her all day?

Oh, shit, no. That didn’t come out right.

I wanted her to live here because ever since she’d quit, left, whatever you wanted to call it, going into the office wasn’t as enjoyable.

“You know, if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Her snide remark shot a bolt of desire through my body, and I was beginning to think I might have a problem. Her words, her mouth, turned me on more than I cared to admit.

Living with her would be my undoing. But I guess that meant that I wanted to be undone. “No, thanks, who’s to say if you’re photogenic or not? Cameras don’t always see things the way I do.”

She breezed past me, her shoulder grazing mine in her pursuit to get inside my house. My face was impassive as I tried my best not to give into my desire and grab her by the arm, spin her around, and kiss her like today was our last day on earth.

“By all means come right in and make yourself at home.” After I closed the door, I turned around and crossed my arms, our eyes connecting.

She strutted through my house, into the living room, and plopped down on the sofa, taking off her sneakers. “I could throw these things at you, you know that?”

“Your colored sneakers?”

“Colored? I look like a rainbow. Who wears all this frigging color?” She plucked at her polo and tennis skirt.

“I think you look hot.” And you’d look hotter without any of it on.

“I look like your mother.”

“What the fuck, Jade?” My stomach churned. “Don’t say that. Not when I tell you how sexy you look.”

“Don’t ever make plans for me again.”

“Tennis was that bad?” I took a seat on the chair next to the couch, easing my arms onto the armrests. “You didn’t chew gum, did you? My mother hates it when people chew gum. Says it’s a disgusting habit.”

Leaning forward, she blew a strand of hair out of her face.

“No, I didn’t chew gum. She loves me. I think, anyway.

” She began rubbing her feet. Heaven help me because I wanted to push her hands aside and beg for her to let me rub them before I inched upward and touched every other part of her body.

I wondered how wet and desire-filled she’d get if I took my time exploring her body.

It would, no doubt, drive her nuts. She was less patient than a man on bended knee asking a woman to marry him.

Not that I’d know the feeling actually, considering we’d skipped the proposal part and had gone right to the good stuff—her wagon hitched to mine.

For as short of time as it was going to be.

Focusing back on her words, I replied, “Then I don’t see the problem. You had a good time. She had a good time. You’re friends now. You’re welcome.”

She continued rubbing her feet, her lips narrowed. “I’m doing you a favor, so the next time you feel like agreeing to something I wouldn’t do on a normal, everyday basis, refrain.”

I hissed air through my teeth and thought very carefully about my next words. “All right. From now on, I’ll do that.”

She sat up straight but then narrowed her eyes. “Wait a second. The way you just said that sounded calculated.” She pointed an accusatory finger at me. “You choose your words very carefully. I happen to know that for a fact.”

Holy crap. You see why I couldn’t get enough of her? She was so intelligent that I wouldn’t put it past her to invent something just as necessary as electricity. I remained silent, though, neither confirming nor denying her accusation.

“What did you do?” she asked in a very measured way, almost as if unsure she really wanted to know.

I placed a finger on my chin, looking up as I contemplated my answer.

How would she handle a whole weekend with the Cavallos, acting like the loving couple we weren’t?

“Let’s see. Nate stopped by my office earlier today, said we couldn’t get married.

I think he’s a petulant child who wants what he can’t have.

Must be younger sibling syndrome or some shit.

I’m no psychologist, though. My friend, EJ, is in town, he showed up, and we had drinks.

I came back here to finish working. Oh, and Mark called. ”

She shot up so fast it rivaled that of an arrow being shot through the air at warp speed. “That!” There went that accusatory finger again, pointed directly at me, this time her ring glimmering in the artificial light. “What did you sign us up for with Mark?”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about my friend EJ? He wanted to know all about you.”

Her nostrils flared, and she swallowed, my eyes drawn to the beautiful lines of the column of her neck. I wanted my tongue there.

“No,” she practically shouted, running her hands through her hair, clearly frustrated. “How is it that you can annoy me as much as you do, and yet all I want to do is rip your clothes off?”

I knew the feeling. “Because you’re attracted to me.”

She rolled her eyes.

I really got under her skin, didn’t I?

“Don’t flatter yourself, honeybun . I’m also attracted to the motorcycle gang president who just got arrested.

It’s not a big deal, so forgo the swooning.

” She started walking past me, but I reached out from my seat and stopped her, my hand grabbing hers, like I’d wanted to do earlier. “What do you think you’re doing?”