Page 63 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

RICK

C hessie counted out exactly twenty raspberries and then separated them onto each of our plates.

Next, she divided up the slices of perfectly crispy maple bacon.

Once each of our plates, already stacked with pancakes, was arranged with the appropriate accompaniments, she gave me her blessing that we could eat.

I handed her the maple syrup, and as per usual, she poured entirely too much all over her pancakes.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her not to overdo it.

Instead, I watched as she pushed a small piece of bacon around in her maple syrup soup before she popped it in her mouth.

Bits of syrup drizzled down her chin and stayed there as she cut into her pancakes.

Chocolate oozed out of them and turned the syrup on her plate a rich brown color.

Chessie watched me while she chewed. Her cheeks were puffed up like a chipmunk, and she tried to ask me a question, but it came out as merely an incoherent mumble.

She washed her bite down with a great gulp of water and tried again. “Where do you have to go today, Daddy?”

“I’m going to see Kim.”

“What for?”

“I owe her a little something for everything she did for us. And I know she won’t accept it unless it’s in person, so I’m going to drive down and give it to her. Then I’ll be back this evening for our movie night, like we planned. Sound good?”

Chessie stuck out her tongue and tried to lick the syrup off her chin. She failed. “Sounds good.”

I used my napkin to clean her up a bit and chuckled to myself. “One of these days, you’ll be wiping the dribble off my chin,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

Chessie proceeded to devour her meal. When she looked like she was wearing chocolate lipstick, she slumped back in her chair, her little belly sticking out a little more than it had when she first got up this morning, and let out a long sigh. “That was so good.”

Chuckling, I stood and collected our plates. “I’m glad you liked it. You ate enough to satisfy a horse.”

“I’m a growing girl, Daddy.”

“Growing indeed. Just a few months ago, you could hardly eat two pancakes. Now you’re up to three. You’re going to out-eat me one of these days.”

Chessie slid off her chair and grabbed her cup of water, which she followed me into the kitchen with so she could load it in the dishwasher. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat that much food.”

I arched an eyebrow and stared down at her as she put her cup in the machine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you can eat a lot. And you’re all done growing.”

I lifted my right arm, rolled up the sleeve of my T-shirt to my shoulder, and flexed my bicep. “There’s always more growing to do, kiddo. See that? That needs protein and—”

“Put your bicep away, Daddy. There’s nobody here to impress.”

I blinked. Was my seven-year-old tiring of my antics this early? Was I going to have to find new humorous material to use on her? She always giggled when I showed off my muscles. I couldn’t explain it but it worked.

Usually.

I pulled my sleeve down. “Well now I’m going to emotionally eat more pancakes because my baby girl doesn’t appreciate me anymore.”

Chessie rolled her eyes at me. “Verity used to like that joke a lot more than me for some reason.”

Yes. For some reason.

The mention of Verity’s name took all the joy out of me. I rinsed our plates under the sink to rid them of the sticky maple syrup and dried chocolate from Chessie’s pancakes, and I passed the washed plates to her to put in the dishwasher.

“You make a fair point,” I said.

Chessie closed the dishwasher once it was loaded and I picked her up and set her on the counter so she could wash her hands in the sink. I knew she was staring at me as I pumped lavender-scented soap into her palm. I grabbed her hands and vigorously rubbed them together until she started to giggle.

You’ve still got it .

As I patted her hands dry, Chessie gently tapped her foot against my thigh. “Are you still sad, Daddy?”

I braced myself against the counter with a hand on either side of her.

I searched her eyes and saw deep concern there.

Verity bailing on the wedding hadn’t only hurt me.

It had hurt Chessie, too. She couldn’t understand why Verity would change her mind at the last minute and not want to be part of our family, and no matter what way I tried to explain it to her, she kept coming back with the same thing: she didn’t understand how Verity couldn’t love me enough to want to marry me.

I love you enough, Chessie had told me when I first explained to her that the wedding was over. I love you more than anything.

I sighed. “Kiddo, adult relationships are very complicated. And I still don’t quite understand what went wrong myself. All I know is we will be okay. I will be okay. We don’t need Verity to be a whole family. We are enough. Just the two of us. Right?”

She smiled. “Right.”

“Good girl.” I kissed the tip of her nose before setting her down on the floor.

I ruffled her hair and told her to have a shower so she was ready for the day when Jennifer arrived.

I watched Chessie run off up the stairs, her heels pounding on each step, and disappear into her bedroom on the second-story.

I sighed and leaned up against the counter with my arms crossed in front of my chest. I knew all the right things to say when it came to my daughter, but just because they were the right words didn’t mean they made me feel any less empty.

Like someone had reached down into the depths of my soul, closed their fist around my spirit, and pulled it back out through my mouth.

You’re just lonely, I thought sharply as I moved to the kitchen table to clear away the butter dish and maple syrup. That’s all. And that will pass. Just like it did before with Chessie’s mother. Just give it time.

I put my car in park at the curb outside a modest, ten-story apartment building in Historic Edgefield, a safe and rather affordable neighborhood in Nashville.

The building was old, probably sixty or so years, but it had been recently polished up with a coat of white paint on the brick exterior and black trim around the windows.

Flower boxes lined the lower levels, providing privacy for the ground-level suites, and several of the balconies boasted flowers of their own as well as strung-up patio lights, bright patio sets, and all sorts of bird feeders.

It seemed like a pleasant place to live, and the address matched the one scrawled on the envelope folded up in my cup holder.

It had been a letter from Kim, sent to my place well over eight months ago containing mine and Verity’s first wedding invitation sample of at least three dozen.

I’d been able to find it in the messy storage container of all the wedding documents Verity promised to go through after we were married, stored in my home-office closet.

Without it, I never would have found where Kim lived.

I got out of my car and walked across the nicely maintained lawn in front of the building. At the front doors, I found the list of residents attached to the buzzer. Kim’s name was near the bottom. Eighth floor.

I cleared my throat and pressed the button.

Less than five seconds later, Kim’s voice filled the shitty-quality speaker. “Hello?”

“Kim. Hi, it’s Rick.”

A moment’s pause. “Rick? What are you doing here?”

“I have something for you. I was in the area so I thought I’d swing by. I hope it’s not an inconvenience.”

“No, not at all. Hang on. I’ll buzz you up. The front door is delayed. After you hear the buzz, it will take another five or so seconds to open.”

Kim was right. The door was delayed. After she buzzed me in, I crossed the small foyer.

It was nearly the same size as the foyer in my house and this apartment served at least fifty units.

There were two black leather sofas in the lobby.

There were fresh-cut flowers on the table between them as well as a few out-of-date magazines.

There was a small bookshelf beside the elevator and the whole lobby smelled like an old library.

I rode the elevator up to the eighth floor, stepped off, and looked both ways down the hall. I spotted Kim at the far end on my right, standing half outside her apartment, waving at me.

She looked good. As usual.

She was wearing a pair of dark jeans. They weren’t tight and they ended above her ankle, exposing a dainty gold chain on her right ankle. She was barefoot and her toes were painted white. She crossed one ankle over the other and smirked at me when I got closer.

“In the neighborhood, huh?” she asked, planting one hand on her hip.

A bit of midriff was showing between her jeans and the cropped white sweatshirt she wore.

Even just from that inch of exposed skin, I could tell she was fit, not that I hadn’t noticed in that tight little number she wore at the wedding.

“What on earth could a guy like you be doing in Edgefield?”

I grinned. “All right, I lied. I wasn’t in the area. I came specifically to give you this.” I reached into the front pocket of my sports jacket and pulled out an envelope. “It’s the remaining amount of what I owe you for the wedding.”

Kim looked from the envelope to me. “Rick, I can’t accept this. It’s in my contract that if for some reason the wedding doesn’t go ahead, I don’t receive the full payment. It wouldn’t be right.”

“What wouldn’t be right is if I failed to compensate you fully. You did all the work, Kim. I saw how hard you worked. You busted your ass to make this wedding happen and to have it fall through at the last minute like that? Well, it doesn’t sit right with me that you don’t get what’s earned.”

She stepped back when I extended the envelope to her. “No, Rick. I don’t want it.”

“Take it.”

“No,” she said firmly.

“Kim. Please.”

She shook her head. “Absolutely not. After everything that went down, I refuse to put you on the line for this. It’s not on you to make things right and I’ll be just—”

“For fuck’s sake,” I growled. Then I grabbed her wrist, turned her hand, and slapped the envelope into her palm. “Just take it.”

Kim swallowed.

Damn it. “I’m sorry,” I said, releasing her. “I didn’t mean to get angry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m just sick and tired of everyone treating me like I’m broken. I’m not. I’m fine. I can afford to pay this and I want to because it’s the right thing to do.”

Kim’s eyes flicked back and forth between mine. “All right. Thank you.”

Tension I didn’t realize I was carrying fell away from me and I let out a tired sigh. “You’re welcome.”

“Is there anything else you want to do?” Kim asked.

Her question left me grasping at straws as I searched her eyes. There was something there, burning just beneath the surface, an invitation to step over the line and rid myself of this hollow weight that had been growing inside me for weeks now.

I wanted to go inside her apartment. I wanted to kiss those perfect lips of hers and explore every inch of her taut little body with my hands, lips, tongue, and cock. I wanted to lay her out and show her what it meant to be worshiped by a man like me.

I wanted to make her scream my fucking name.

Kim pinched her bottom lip between her teeth. “Rick?”

My name on her lips was like someone had waved a red flag in front of my eyes. I stepped forward, grabbed her chin in one hand, and pulled her lips toward mine. As soon as I tasted her, citrus and sugar, I knew there would be no stopping us.