Page 29 of Silver Spoon Falls, Vol. I

TWENTY

RYKER

"Hold the fuck on. Did you just say you threatened to spank the hotel clerk?" Razor asks, choking on laughter. "What the fuck, Ryker?"

I tilt my head back and curse at the ceiling.

Of course, my pain-in-the-ass twin caught that part of the conversation.

He always catches the inconvenient parts yet rarely listens to anything else I say.

Like the time I told him that we weren't dressing up as each other for a week in high school.

I got slapped twice that week for shit I didn't even do!

"She was mouthy," I mutter defensively. I leave out the part about her sweet voice making my fucking cock ache.

Some things he doesn't need to know. It's true, though.

Her grumpy little attitude, that sassy mouth, and her sweet voice had my cock standing up and taking notice.

Which is, quite frankly, a damn miracle.

The bastard hasn't noticed anything in longer than I can remember.

I work too damn much. But when the whole world is going to hell in a handbasket, and you work for the CIA, well, long days and late nights are inevitable.

There have been a helluva lot of both for longer than I care to admit.

I've been burning the candle at both ends for so long that it's starting to wear thin.

I'm burning out. There's no other way to put it.

I need something other than work in my life.

Quite frankly, I want someone to go home to at the end of the day.

I want what our parents have and what my brother and sister have both recently found with the loves of their lives.

I've spent too goddamn long building a future. I'm ready to start living it now.

Which is exactly why I've requested a transfer to the Houston office. Razor and Jules think I'm coming home later this month to visit. They don't know I'm coming to look for my own place. I’m officially transferring to Houston in six weeks. I'm not telling them until all my shit is in order.

"Did you ask for a secure room?" Razor asks, fucking with me.

"I like my privacy," I grit out. And I'm nothing if not careful. It comes with the territory. But I don't tell Razor that. He doesn't need to know just how dangerous this shit can get. Our baby sister, Jules, definitely doesn't need to know. It'd just upset her.

"It's Silver Spoon Falls, jackass," Razor says, laughing. "The most dangerous thing around here is, apparently, the water."

"What the fuck is wrong with the water?" I scowl out of the window of my office, watching traffic creep through DC at a snail's pace. At this time of day, not even the slog lines do much to clear congestion. Fuck. I hate this city. It's too big, too loud, and too irritating.

I can't wait to get out of here.

"It's magical or some shit." Razor snorts. "I don't know. The whole damn town swears people fall in love fast around here because of the water."

"Is that what happened to you?"

"I didn't need any magical water to fall in love with Adalynn.

I just had to see her to do that." His voice drops to a tone I know all too well.

My brother may be an endearing drummer to the rest of the world, but he's still the same incorrigible asshole I grew up with if you ask me.

"Maybe you should slip some to the desk clerk before you spank her.

She might actually sleep with your ugly ass, then. "

"You look just like me, you dick," I say, laughing despite myself. "I know big words are hard for your little brain, but identical means samesies, brother."

"Fuck you." He laughs. "I look damn good. You look like my left ass cheek."

"Get off my phone and stop annoying the fuck out of me. Some of us didn't get to retire before forty."

"Sucks for you." He pauses. "I only called to get your travel shit. Jules is bugging me for it."

"Why didn't she call for it?" I ask, brows furrowed as I move back to my desk to get him the info.

"She says she's mad at you for not staying with her and Dillon, blah, blah, blah, etc.," Razor explains. I assume the blahs are the parts he tuned out.

"I'm not listening to them fuck," I growl, dropping into my desk chair.

"That's what I told her. She said it was only one time, and it was an accident. They thought you were still in the shower."

"Once was enough." I shudder at the intrusive memory.

If she didn't love Dillon Armstrong, I'd rip his balls off for putting his hands on her.

Since they're married and have a kid, it's a little too late for that.

But I draw the line at listening to him defile her.

Been there, already need therapy for that. Not doing it again.

"Rather you than me," Razor mutters.

I quickly relay my flight information to him so he can pass it on to Jules, and then lean back in my chair.

"Why can't you text this shit like a normal person?" he complains.

"Because it's far more fun to make you write it down."

"Asshole."

I smirk, even though we both know that isn't why.

Texts can be intercepted, and emails can be hacked.

My baby sister and triplet nieces are in Silver Spoon Falls.

There are evil people in this world, and we deal with some of the worst in this building every day.

I'll be damned before they ever get their hands on my family.

"I'll get this shit to Jules," Razor says, and then he snickers. "You go do whatever you gotta do about your corporal punishment kink."

"I don't have a fucking kink."

"Whatever you say there, Spanky."

I bark laughter. "You're an asshole."

"Yep," he agrees. "Oh. What's her name?"

"Who?"

"Your girl, jackass."

"She isn't mine." Yet.

"Francesca Moore." I can't fucking wait to groan it while I'm balls-deep in her. Shit. What am I even thinking? I've never even set eyes on the girl, and I'm fantasizing about fucking her? Jesus. She's got me over a barrel here.

"Oh, goddamn," Razor says, howling with laughter. "You are so fucked."

"What? What does that mean?"

"Look her up."

With that, he hangs up on me.

I growl a curse and drop the phone to my desk, grabbing my keyboard.

I quickly pull up a browser and type in her name, running a quick internet search on her.

A Facebook profile and a few old news articles pop up.

The articles look like graduation announcements and shit like that, so I skip them and go for the Facebook profile.

"Ah, fuck me."

Razor is right. I am fucked. Francesca may have a grumpy little attitude, but she's a little ball of sunshine, exactly like I fucking called her.

Jesus H. Christ, she's pretty. Long blonde hair frames a smiling heart-shaped face.

Laughter dances in her blue eyes, and her cheeks are pink.

She's not wearing makeup. She doesn't need it.

Her ivory skin is perfect without it, right down to the birthmark on her arm.

"Goddamn son of a bitch," I growl, palming my cock through my slacks. I shouldn't have looked her up. Because now I have to wait two fucking weeks to make her mine. It's going to be pure damn torture to my cock.

“Thank you for calling the Silver Spoon Falls Inn. This is Francesca. How may I help you?” Her dulcet voice washes over me, bringing a smile to my lips.

Fuck. I’ve been waiting for this all week.

I’ve been hounding the hotel like a crazy person for four days, thinking up excuses to call, just trying to catch her.

It’s a sad day when you’re considered a bigger diva than your rockstar brother, but necessity is a bitch.

And talking to Francesca again is a necessity.

“Francesca,” I say, my tone clipped, though I don’t intend it to be. It’s the lust talking, I swear. It’s pounding through me like a riptide, threatening to drown me.

“I knew my day was going too well,” she mutters. I don’t think I’m supposed to hear that part because the next words out of her mouth are, “Hello again, Mr. Montgomery. What can I help you with today ?”

Ah. So, they have told her that I’ve been calling every day, asking for all manner of inane, ridiculous shit. So far, I’ve requested a gun safe, Egyptian cotton sheets, and extra batteries for the smoke detectors. I’m running out of requests.

“It’s nice to hear from you, too, sunshine,” I say. “And how is your day going? Mine is great, thanks for asking.”

She seethes silently. I can practically hear the steam coming out of her ears. Fuck, I bet it’s taking everything she has not to lay into me right now. I wish she would. I want to hear that sassy mouth again.

“But since you asked,” I say, leaning back on my sofa.

My hand drifts toward my cock of its own volition.

I grip my shaft through my pants, squeezing the hard bastard even though I shouldn’t.

She’d probably kick my ass if she knew what I was doing right now.

“I’m calling to inquire about the type of locking mechanisms used for the doors. ”

“You’re… what?”

“What type of locks do you use, sunshine?”

“You seriously called to ask about the locks on the doors?”

No, I called to talk to you.

“Yes,” I lie.

“They’re locks, Mr. Montgomery! They lock the freaking doors to keep people out,” she growls, making my dick throb. “How should I know what kind they are? I’m not a locksmith. I didn’t purchase the locks, nor did I install them. I answer the phones and check people in and out.”

“You just can’t help that mouth, can you?”

“And you can’t help being infuriating, can you?” she retorts.

Fuck, I want her face down over my lap with her round ass in the air. I bet she’d growl defiance at me every time I smacked her perfect little cheeks.

“Your room will have a deadbolt. It’ll even have a sliding lock. And, if you’re feeling really fancy, I bet you can even slide the armoire over in front of the door to make you feel extra safe in your nice, big, secure suite in a town with almost zero violent crime,” she sasses.

I laugh quietly, working my hand up and down my cock like the horny bastard I am. “I hope customer service isn’t the grand plan for your life, sunshine,” I say. “You suck at it.”

“Oh, no,” she says, her voice sugary-sweet. “I’m excellent at it. You just annoy me. Have an extra special evening, Mr. Montgomery.”

I drop my phone to my stomach and jerk my pants down, wrapping my fist around my bare cock. Fuck, I can’t wait until I meet her in person. She’s going to blow my damn mind. I already know it.