Back for More, page 6
Somehow, though, over the pounding of my heart, I hear or maybe feel someone clear his throat and know without looking that it’s Jasper “Call me Jay” Barnes. We both turn to him. He’s walking down the hallway, watching Lily and me, and I just can’t get a read on that expression on his face.
His executive assistant trails behind him, wearing her wireless headset, carrying two cell phones and a gift bag. The crowd parts as he passes. He doesn’t acknowledge anyone except Kate now, since she is the guest of honor. I remove my arm from Kate’s shoulder, and Lily takes a step back. Tina hands Kate the gift bag and gives her a hug before going to get a glass of beer for Jasper and then returning to the buffet table to cut the cake.
Jasper shakes Kate’s hand, asks her if she’s had a good last day. Kate gets all demure and polite around him, as always. He’s not a tough guy or especially alpha, but there’s something about the way this man carries himself that commands respect. As soon as he takes the glass from Tina, he raises it and looks around for the source of the disco music. When he sees the portable Bluetooth speaker on the table, he raises an eyebrow at Lily.
“Right,” she mumbles as she pulls her phone out from her pocket, turning off her music app with the swipe of a finger.
As soon as he has silence, Jasper launches into his speech. “Kate. We have all enjoyed having you here—your warm smile and robust laugh will be missed, as will your ability to keep Mr. Carver in line.” Pause for polite laughter and an appreciative wink and smile from yours truly. “As you begin this new chapter in your life, remember that you’ll always be a part of the Barnes Group family, as will the new little member who will be joining you soon. Best of luck in your adventures in motherhood,” he says and then pauses for the briefest of moments to clear his throat and look down. I glance over at Lily, whose eyes are getting that pink tinge around the rims again. “The most important job of all,” he continues. “To Kate. We will miss you.”
There is a chorus of we’ll miss yous, and then Jasper takes a sip of beer, pats Kate on the shoulder, takes a plate of sliced cake and a fork from Tina, and excuses himself to get back to his office for a conference call. He doesn’t say a word to his daughter or anyone else, just nods at people and doesn’t wait for Tina as she hugs Kate one more time before hurrying after him.
I watch Lily watch him go, her face expressionless aside from her tight jaw.
I have to cross the room to start up a meaningless conversation with Roger the CFO to keep from putting my arm around her. This is how she slowly breaks my heart, one quivering lip at a time and then suddenly all at once. Over and over. I can handle a broken heart—I’m no pussy—but I can’t let her get to me.
Not here.
Not now.
Less than five minutes later, I’m swallowing my last bite of cake and ushering Kate back to my office when Lily disappears to the ladies’ room.
“I know what I want for my going-away present,” Kate stage-whispers.
“I already gave you flowers.”
“Flowers are not a present. Flowers are a gesture.”
I lower my voice. “If this present involves Lily, then I have another gesture for you.” I covertly present her with my middle finger.
She snort-laughs. “And people say you aren’t funny.”
“Nobody says I’m not funny. People say I’m not fun. Big difference.”
She gets very serious all of a sudden. “But it does involve her.”
“What?” I sigh.
“Take it easy on her. She’s a good egg.”
“And?”
“And I think you should marry her—not right away, but eventually.”
“Shhh! How many light beers have you had?”
“Half of one glass! I’m driving home. Pregnant. I’m not tipsy. I’m just really observant.”
“Since when? How many times have you come to work with your sweaters on inside out?”
She swats at my arm. “That’s different. I know people. And I know you. Kind of. And yes, I’ve only known her for twenty-four hours, but there’s something there between you.”
I bark out a laugh. “Ya think?” She doesn’t know the half of it. I hope. “Well, that was a convincing argument. I will take that under consideration.”
“No, but really.” She grabs my arm as I’m turning away. “What’s the deal with you guys?”
I shrug. “There’s no deal. There’s just a bit of history. And currently there’s an awkward work situation that I have to navigate carefully, so thanks for your discretion and understanding.”
“Do not trade her to Douchebag Dan’s desk.”
I’m quiet for a beat. “I won’t trade her to his desk.”
“Don’t trade her to anyone else’s desk.”
“You’re not the boss of me, pregnant lady. Not anymore.”
Her lips tighten into a straight line. “Okay, okay. But just…” She lowers her voice to a whisper and leans toward me. “She’s not what I thought she’d be like. She’s more. Don’t push her away.”
I turn back and see Lily heading toward us, frowning and lost in thought.
“You want me to help you carry stuff to your car now?”
Kate pouts. “Yes. But now I feel like you’re eager to get rid of me.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “Once again, so observant.” I squeeze her to me. “I’ll miss you. Thanks for not being a terrible assistant.”
As I enter my office, she asks, “And what will you and your new assistant get up to once I’ve waddled off into the sunset, now that you’ve both had a glass of light beer?”
“I’m going home.”
She guffaws and then falls silent when she sees me packing up my laptop. I don’t usually leave the office before six thirty unless I have a dinner meeting, but I need to get out of here and away from those tea-brown eyes before they spill over and I dive into the depths beneath that sleek, placid surface and take her with me.
7
Wes
*You’ve Got Another Thing Coming*
Christ, I cannot get home fast enough. As soon as I get in, I open the back door to let the cat out and then jump into the shower to beat off to the filthiest, most aggravating fantasy of Lily Barnes I’ve ever had. Fueled by lust and frustration and guilt and resentment and possessiveness and impatience and annoyance and sympathy…and did I happen to mention lust? When forty-five minutes of crunches and push-ups and free-weights still haven’t done anything to subdue the fucked-up longing and ache, I turn to beer.
Which is a joke because no amount of beer or jerking off could ever help.
I’ve had a very sober nine-year boner for one girl.
One infuriating, beautiful, bright, cheeky, secretly sweet girl.
The one who skipped town without saying good-bye.
I think I’m a pretty simple guy. I know what I like and I know what I want, and everything else can go fuck itself. But I’ve never met anyone who made me feel so many different things, sometimes all at once. There’s no other person, no other activity that gets me going the way she does. I’ve looked, and I know I’ll never find it. And apparently, there’s nothing Lily Barnes can say or do to turn me off. She’s definitely tried.
As pissed as I was right after she left, everything was easier when she wasn’t around. Far less stimulating but easier. It figures she’d show up again when I wasn’t ready, in a way I never would have expected. At least I’m not alone in this. I know full well she’s struggling just as much as I am. We’re both strong-willed and stubborn, and neither of us are going down without fighting our attraction first.
I’m on my third bottle of Bud, sprawled out on my sofa in my T-shirt and sweatpants, when I hear a knock at my front door. It’s dinnertime and I haven’t ordered food, so I expect it to be an asshole solicitor of some kind. I get up to open the door abruptly and just enough so the asshole can see me frowning. Only, the asshole who’s standing on my doorstep is so used to seeing me frown at her, she doesn’t even flinch.
Here she is, in a little T-shirt and tight jeans, her hair up in a ponytail, showing up when I’m not ready for her. Any sign of the feelings she was grappling with earlier is gone, replaced by the usual glinty-eyed smirk.
“What are you doing here?” I growl.
“I’ve come to fetch my cat, Mr. Manners,” she says.
“Since when is it good manners to show up at someone’s house unannounced? How’d you know where I live?”
“In case you’ve forgotten: I’m your assistant. Your home address is in a file on the computer. Which reminds me—HR has my personal cell phone number, but I should probably give it to you, in case you need to get hold of me.”
Oh, Lily, you have no idea how I need to get hold of you.
“You have a Barnes Group cell phone. So do I. If we need to get hold of each other for work, that is how we will get hold of each other.”
“I don’t consider my cat’s living arrangements to be Barnes Group business, do you?”
I stay in the doorway, blocking her from entering. I grip the door handle with one hand and rest my other hand, the one holding the beer bottle, against the doorframe. Her eyes soften for a second as she scans the length of my tensed arm muscles. “You could have let me know you wanted to come over first. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take Fanny away like this.”
She tears her gaze away from my bicep, straightens her posture, and lifts her chin defiantly. “Just let me see her, Wes.”
I allow myself one quick look down at the smooth skin of her long, exposed neck, the way the light fabric of that dark T-shirt is caressing her curves and doing a very poor job of concealing her perky nipples. One of the many things that has always bewildered me about this girl is how she can be so willowy and lean but still have curves in all the right places. I move aside, pulling the door open farther, trying to ignore the sway of her blonde hair and her hips as she walks in past me, almost brushing up against me but not quite. She’s wearing that bold, sexy fragrance that she was wearing yesterday. Different from the one she wore to the office today.
I know your game, Lily. If you think you’re going to flirt and seduce your way into my good graces as a boss or as a man or as a cat caretaker, you’ve got another thing coming. Tonight, anyway.
She steps inside the wide foyer and looks around. “This is really nice,” she says with no sarcasm and a little more surprise than I’d like.
I’d bought a restored craftsman-style house in a quiet neighborhood. I’m not the only single person living around here, but let’s just say that if I ever actually used Tinder, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t find any potential matches on there who are in the immediate area unless they’re visiting family. “What’d you expect?”
“Nothing. I mean, it’s not your typical bachelor pad. It’s warm. And tasteful.”
“Guess I’m not your typical bachelor.”
She chooses not to comment on that. “How long have you lived here?” she asks as she wanders through the sliding doors to the living room, admiring the honey-stained hardwood floor beneath her fancy sneakers. “Oh—should I take off my shoes?”
“No, you shouldn’t.” I don’t want to see her bare feet. It’s not like I’m a foot guy, but I have never seen a sexier pair of feet on a girl… Fuck, I want to see her feet. “I bought it a year ago.”
“It’s kind of big for one person…” she offers casually.
“I wanted a place that’s big enough for me and my dad, if it ever comes to that.”
She nods and walks over to the fireplace, absentmindedly touches the edge of the mantle. “That’s sweet. I saw him yesterday. He looks healthy. And happy.” She looks over at me, grinning. “Still like the Stones, I hear?”
I want to turn the music off now that she’s here, but I decide to change the subject instead. “Fanny bolted when you knocked on the door. She might be in the sun-room.”
“Lead the way. I miss sun-rooms. Nobody has sun-rooms in LA. Isn’t that weird?”
I trudge through the living room to the connected dining room, through to the kitchen. “I’d imagine everything about LA is weird.”
She gives me a throaty laugh. “I wouldn’t say that, but I’m quite sure you’d hate it.”
“You planning on heading back there?” Why’d I ask that? I don’t want to talk about that.
She shrugs. “Depends.”
“On what?” Why’d I ask that? I do not want to have this conversation. Not here, not now.
“On how things go here, obviously.” She follows me through the kitchen, to the sun-room, affecting an air of nonchalance about the subject while surveying everything around her.
“You don’t have people waiting for you there?”
Fuck.
Why’d I ask that?
I don’t turn back, but I can hear her smiling. “People?”
“Forget it.” I step to the side of the door and stand there, taking a long pull on my beer before folding my arms in front of my chest like a bouncer.
“I wouldn’t say there are people waiting for me there, exactly.” She steps lightly around the room, looking around for Fanny among the many potted plants and chairs and cat furniture. “Nor would I say there is a person waiting for me there… Then again, I didn’t say there was a person waiting for me here, either.” She looks coyly over her shoulder at me.
“Sounds about right.”
“This is a perfect room for a cat,” she muses. She bends forward to look under the loveseat, gasping when she spots Fanny in her favorite hiding place. “She’s so big!” She carefully places her bag on the floor and gets down on her hands and knees, crawling closer to the edge of the loveseat, raising her heart-shaped ass up in the air and lowering her head so she’s eye-to-eye with the cat.
Fuck me.
“Hey, baby,” she sings, a slow, quiet ballad. “You remember me? Oh, you’re so beautiful. Look at you. I missed you. I missed you, Fanny Brice.” When she reaches out to touch her, she gets hissed at.
It’s embarrassing, how happy that makes me.
She doesn’t pull back, though. She just lowers herself all the way down onto her side so she can stare at Fanny, her hand still outstretched on the floor. “I know,” she coos. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? You don’t have to leave here if you don’t want to. Not yet. I just wanted to see your beautiful face, okay? Is that okay with you?”
“I think that’s enough for now.”
Lily sighs. “Okay. I’m gonna go now, but I’m gonna come back to see you again, pretty girl.” She whispers, “I love you,” and then pushes herself back up to stand in one swift yoga move or something. She turns to me and says, “She looks really good.”
“Yeah. She is really good. I told you.”
She picks up her shoulder bag and saunters over toward me, eyeing the nearly empty beer bottle in my hand. “Can I have one?”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“As opposed to me working for you as your assistant at my father’s company? That’s a fucking great idea.”
“If you’re also here to give your two weeks’ notice, then I accept.”
She plants her fists on her hips. “Listen, Carver. I’m here to work. I’m here to learn. I’m here to do whatever it takes.”
“To get to your trust fund?”
She winces, like I slapped her, and those tea-brown eyes go ice cold. “To get to what’s mine. Forget the beer. I gotta go.”
She doesn’t go. I grab two bottles from the fridge as we pass back through the kitchen and hand her one, fully expecting her to refuse a Budweiser. Then I change the music from the Stones to The National—something broody and not sexy. I take a seat on my sofa and gesture toward the armchairs, like I don’t really care if she takes a seat or leaves, with or without her beer.
We sit here, silently drinking and staring at each other for a couple of minutes. It’s not even awkward, but it’s not exactly comfortable either. It’s just…strangely right.
Finally, she makes some kind of low humming sound and says, “So, have you heard from your mother at all lately?”
In the past, when she’d ask me that question, there was always sort of a mocking tone in her voice. But not now. Now she looks at me like she’s hoping I’ll say yes.
“She still sends us both birthday and Christmas cards every year.”
“From Europe?”
“Yes.”
“Still no return address?”
“Correct.”
“And you’re still not mad at her?”
“I never said I wasn’t mad at her.”
She grins and licks her lips. “Right.” She straightens her back, holds her beer bottle between her knees, and reaches behind her head to adjust her ponytail. She watches me watch as the fabric of her T-shirt stretches tighter across her breasts. When I blink and look away, she asks, “Are you still friends with Neal and Alecia?”
Neal’s my buddy from school who ended up marrying Lily’s former best friend. Or maybe she’s still her best friend—I don’t know how girl friendships work, but they haven’t seen each other in years, as far as I know.
“Yeah. Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She grips the neck of the bottle and rests her elbows on her thighs, leaning forward. “How are they?”
“Good. They have two little kids, you know.”
“Of course I know that. I just kind of lost touch with Leesh about half a year ago because we’ve both been so busy. You haven’t mentioned that I’m back to them, have you?”
“Haven’t talked to Neal in over a week, and I doubt I’d bring it up. Why? You gonna call Leesh?”
“Of course,” she says earnestly. “Tonight, probably. Yeah. Tonight. I just… She’s not mad at me, is she?”
