Page 27 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

RHYS

T he room was silent. Vanny’s lips on mine were softer than silk.

And warm. She tasted like tomatoes and garlic.

Her tongue slipped into my mouth and she let out a breathy sigh that only I could hear.

I didn’t want to pull away. I wanted to gather her up and carry her out of this place and show her what it was really like to be kissed by Rhys Daniels.

But this was a family-friendly function.

So begrudgingly, I pulled back, leaving her breathless with wet lips in her seat.

I twirled spaghetti around my fork and grinned around at everyone like a buffoon. “This is the most delicious spaghetti I’ve ever had, Mrs. Hampton. Thank you for having me tonight.”

Mrs. Hampton beamed at me. “My pleasure, Rhys.”

Nannie, bless her aging, heartless, wicked, shriveled little soul, did not say a word.

Chris, however, had silent words blowing out of his ears. He nudged my ribs with his elbow. “You and I need to talk.” His voice was low. Too low for the others to hear as the conversation picked back up again. But I knew Vanny was listening.

“Can I finish my spaghetti?”

“ No. ”

Vanny glared at her brother. “Leave it alone, Chris. This has nothing to do with you.”

Chris got to his feet. “It’ll only take a minute.”

“I’m coming too,” Vanny said.

I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her before she tried to stand. “I can handle it. It’s fine. Don’t worry. Enjoy your food.” I leaned over to whisper in her ear. “And don’t touch that fucking salad. You’ll undo all my hard work.”

She giggled.

I moved away from the table with Chris hot on my heels. We stepped out into the hall and he marched me right out the front door onto the front step and closed the door behind him.

I turned. “Before you get too angry—”

He wound back with a fist. It hurtled through the air toward me.

I stumbled back. He missed me by inches.

My heel slipped off the edge of the front porch and I pitched backward.

Chris caught the front of my shirt, saving me from falling backward down the front stairs.

Then he spun me around and slammed my back into the side of the house.

His lips peeled off his teeth in a snarl. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t beat the living hell out of you right now, you piece of lying fucking shit.”

I tried to pry his hands out of the front of my shirt. “Chris, you jackass. I lied. ”

He slammed me against the house again. “Bullshit! You’re fucking my little sister, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

“No!”

“Liar.” His eyes burned with anger. I’d never seen him like this before.

That wasn’t true. I’d seen him like this one time when I was shit faced at a bar and a group of guys tried to beat me up in the alley behind a night club.

Chris had been there to save my ass. He unleashed holy hell on them and left them all whimpering into puddles of blood littered with their teeth.

I had no intention of losing any teeth tonight. “Chris, listen to me, you dumb fucking ox. I’m not dating your sister. I said that to get your bully of a grandmother off her back so she could enjoy one fucking night in peace without being picked apart about her weight or the food on her plate.”

His grip on my shirt loosened.

I wrenched myself free and straightened out the collar of my shirt. It was useless. His sweaty fingers had pressed wrinkles into it and the fabric wouldn’t lie flat.

“But that kiss…”

“Was to drive it home,” I said.

“It looked pretty real to me.”

It felt real, too. And like kissing an angel. A sexy angel that I wanted to do very naughty things to. “I’m not going to give her a half-assed kiss, Chris. She’s cute.”

“Watch it.”

“No, you watch it. I’m the only one in there who stepped in to spare her. The rest of you leave Vanny to the wolves where your grandmother is concerned. It isn’t fair. And I know it’s not my place but I had to do something. I was speaking before I realized what I was doing.”

Chris licked his lips. “Tell me the truth.”

I waited.

“Do you like my sister, Rhys? I mean it. Don’t fucking lie to me right now.”

“I—” I broke off. My instinct was to lie. He didn’t need to know I was falling for the girl. Hell, Vanny didn’t even know. Although after that kiss, she might be having conflicting thoughts about the whole thing. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yes, I like her.”

Chris groaned and slumped back against the wall he’d slammed me into. “Of course you do. Fuck.”

“Why is that such a bad thing?”

“Really, Rhys?”

“What? I’m really not good enough for her? You really think I’m that terrible?”

“Yes, I do. She deserves better than a womanizer, Rhys. I know your track record. I know how quickly you get bored. And I know you’re damaged after everything that went down after Trish.

If you’re using my baby sister to make yourself feel better and you hurt her, I swear to God I’ll rip you a new asshole. ”

Ouch. That hurt. “I’m going back inside.”

“I’m not finished with you,” Chris said.

“Well, I’m finished with you. I suggest you take a minute to cool off before you come back inside. It’s your daughter’s birthday and you’re making a scene.”

I didn’t wait for him to retort. I went back inside and marched straight into the kitchen, where I fell into my seat.

Vanny watched me as I drained the rest of my wine. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I’m fine.” I looked down at her plate and saw the pasta and bread were gone, and the salad was untouched. I smiled. “I’m just fine.”

Sandi was sleeping on the floor under the coffee table.

She was surrounded by wrapping paper, and the pink bow from my present that she’d stuck to her hair was now stuck to the head of the toy I’d gotten her, a fluffy, life-sized puppy that was USB rechargeable and could walk, bark, eat, and learn new tricks.

She’d unceremoniously named it Brownie because it was brown, despite my best efforts to talk her into something a little more creative.

It was her favorite present of the bunch, and she was sleeping with the dog tucked under her arm as the adults sat around sipping coffee and tea.

Almost everyone had gone home. Chris was brooding in the Lazy Boy in the corner while I sat on the loveseat with Vanny. Her parents and Nannie were on the larger sofa and the fireplace crackled, giving off heat and orange light.

It was a pleasant room and the vibe would’ve been perfect if Chris wasn’t glaring daggers at me.

At nine o’clock, my friend gathered his daughter from under the coffee table and went down the hall to put her to bed. He did not say goodnight to me. Nannie went to bed shortly after, leaving me with Vanny and her parents, and when Vanny offered to go do dishes, I stood up to help.

I didn’t make it to the kitchen. Her mother went instead, telling me to finish my coffee.

So I stayed with Mr. Hampton, who got to his feet, collected three large books from the bookshelf beside the TV, and came to join me on the loveseat.

“I’m sorry about my son,” he offered.

“Don’t be. He’ll get over it.”

“He thinks he’s doing Vanny a favor. But she’s always been very good at taking care of herself and making smart choices. I trust her judgment.”

Was that his way of telling me he accepted me? If so, it was a refreshing change of pace compared to what I was used to from my father.

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

“Please. Call me Martin.”

I hadn’t expected that. My father had forced me to call him sir my entire life. Only when I turned nineteen did I finally have the stones to drop the title.

Martin flipped open one of the first books.

I realized it was a high school yearbook.

He flipped through to the back, where there were photos of students in their cap and gowns.

I recognized the blue and gold colors and leaned in as he pointed to a picture of a girl with long dark hair and big brown eyes.

Vanny.

“I can’t believe this was ten years ago.” Martin ran his fingers over the photo and smiled. “My baby girl is all grown up. A woman now. A woman I’m very proud of.”

I’d have been proud if I was her father, too.

Martin gazed at the picture for a minute. Then he flipped back to the front of the book, where there were folded up old newspaper clippings. He took them out one by one and unfolded them, passing one to me once he’d pressed out the creases.

I found myself staring down at a picture of me and Chris and a couple of other guys from our high school football team.

Martin tapped the picture with his index finger. “This was from senior year when you boys took state. Chris was scouted at this game. Do you remember?”

“Like it was yesterday.”

“Chris almost didn’t play. He got cold feet. He was so scared the scout was going to be there and that he’d blow it. We drove him to the game. Got him to the coach. Do you remember what happened when he told the coach he couldn’t play?”

I laughed as I recalled the memory. I’d been standing there beside Coach Ricket.

Both of us had been equally shocked when Chris tried to bow out of the game.

Before Coach even had a chance to say anything, I’d grabbed Chris by the front of his helmet and jerked him forward with enough force to give him whiplash.

“I yelled at him,” I said.

“You didn’t just yell at him.” Martin chuckled and flipped through the other newspaper clippings. “You set his ass straight. You didn’t give him an option to be afraid. You took that away. You pushed him out onto that field and you held him accountable. He owes you a lot, Rhys. We all do.”

Was this what gratitude felt like?

“Please, sir, I was just being a friend. We all need—”

“Martin. Call me Martin.”

There was a warmth in my chest I couldn’t define, a sense of ease and comfort and peace that I hadn’t felt before but had spent a lifetime chasing. And Vanny’s father had given it to me in less than five minutes.

Why couldn’t my own father do that?