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I sighed in frustration. How many more ways could I say it? The thought I’d had last night about her resistance to accepting us because of her experiences resurfaced and nudged away some of my irritation. I could see a solution right in front of me. I’d circumvented the real reason we’d met at her work because I was afraid it would be too much, too soon. However, at this point, I’d already made my obsession with her quite obvious and she hadn’t run yet.
I stood and lifted her into my arms, frowning when she dragged the sheet with her to cover her naked body. Then again, it was probably for the best since her beautiful breasts would only distract me from the conversation. Moving to the chair I’d vacated, I kept her in my embrace as I sat down. I settled her in my lap with her legs hanging sideways over mine and put my hands at her waist to keep her upright, so we were face to face.
“Angel, it’s been a long time since I had any interest in women. And, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew you belonged to me.”
“But—”
I pressed a finger against her lips to silence her. “It wasn’t in the shop. I saw you at Bean Cup and was so enchanted”—I shrugged a little sheepishly—“I followed you.”
Her eyes widened but I hadn’t removed my finger, so she didn’t speak. “I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to find you. My intention had been to find out where you worked, then set up a meet, and gradually build a relationship with you. Then I saw you at Dirty Players and all of my good intentions flew out the fucking window. I hated the idea of you being in a place like that, knowing what kind of slimy customers you had to deal with, and worried over your safety.”
Macy’s expression softened and I took away my finger so I could tenderly kiss her lips.
“I went inside because I couldn’t go one more minute without seeing your beautiful face and I wanted, no needed, you. I still do, I will always need you. I—” I stopped abruptly. I’d been about to blurt out that I loved her, but I had a feeling that I’d already given her as much as she could handle for now. “I believe that answers your question, angel. And it should put to rest any lingering doubts you might have about me because of where we met. And—“ I quickly sped on when her mouth popped open, knowing where her thoughts were headed—“I never once thought of you as convenient, a one-night stand, or that you were easy because of your place of employment.”
Her mouth snapped closed and I grinned at the idea of making my feisty ginger angel speechless.
“You have me to support you now,” I mused aloud. “You could go ahead and quit.”
Macy’s spine went rigid. “I will not be a kept woman,” she snapped. I stifled a laugh at her turn of phrase. So fucking cute.
“I wasn’t suggesting that, angel. I was merely pointing out that you don’t have to wait until we’re married for me to support you.”
“M—married?” she shrieked.
My brows furrowed and I frowned at her tone of disbelief. “Of course we’re getting married.” My voice was stern, solid with conviction. I was not leaving any wiggle room in this.
“We can’t get married!” Her cheeks were flushed bright red with emotion.
“Why the fuck not?” I had to stop myself from roaring the question.
“We only met a day ago.”
“And if you’re pregnant?” I asked, trying a different tactic.
She swallowed hard. “Well, I suppose it would make more sense then, but—”
Problem solved. I cut her off by kissing her hard and then guided her to her feet while she was still flustered. If I sat there any longer with her barely clothed body so accessible, I would never get to work.
“I have to go, angel,” I said grudgingly and kissed her one more time. “I’ll be back in time to take you to work.”
“If you would just get me to my car, I can—”
“Macy,” I growled. She huffed and spun around, marching towards the connecting door to the other bedroom and on into the bathroom. I chuckled at the sight, shaking my head wondrously. How could so much personality fit in someone so tiny? She was certainly one of a kind, made just for me, and I would do anything for her.
That thought festered as I called goodbye to her through the bathroom door and headed to my car. On the short drive to my office, I considered both of our needs. I wanted her away from her current job and I wanted her permanently mine, with a ring on her finger that proclaimed it to every son of a bitch who looked her way. Waiting for her to get pregnant so she’d marry me, while definitely an enjoyable task, could take longer than I had the patience for.
Considering Macy’s desire for her future as well, an idea started to take shape. I could potentially solve both of our issues if I begged a favor from an old friend. It could be a win/win. And Macy would be none the wiser.
I let things go for a week or so while I put my plan together. Macy seemed happy to avoid the topics of marriage and babies, though, I noticed she hadn’t protested when I’d continued to fuck her bare. I was adamant about her staying with me and eventually she gave up the fight. I drove her to work when she had a shift and picked her up, keeping in close contact with Xander to make sure she was always protected. On the nights she had off, we chose to stay in and order food, or I cooked for her, and we spent more time getting to know each other. My ultimate goal, before I could call in that favor, was to get Macy to let me read her manuscripts.
I’d been slowly convincing her to bring more and more stuff to my house each time we swung by her place to pick up clothes. After seeing her dingy apartment in a questionable area of town, I wouldn’t allow her to go there without me at all. At the end of the week, when we stopped by, I asked again about reading her work. To my surprise, she grabbed a couple of padded envelopes from a small filing cabinet and hugged them to her chest, watching me nervously.
I didn’t pressure her about it and the next morning, I found one of them set on the bar in the kitchen where I drank my coffee and read the paper every day. Something told me that Macy was very talented, but once I opened the first page, I couldn’t put it down. The story, the writing, all of it was fucking amazing. My plan was definitely going to work.
“Kassidy Bell, it’s been a while.” I grinned into the phone, even though she couldn’t see me.
“Peanut Buttercup!” she exclaimed, using the nickname she’d given me in high school. “How the hell are you? And why haven’t I heard from you in almost a year?” Her tone was chiding at the end. I’d kind of lost touch with a lot of my friends over the last year. I didn’t realize what a shell I was becoming until Macy started breathing life back into me. Kassidy was like a big sister to me. Growing up, her younger brother, Dillon, had been one of my best friends. With our other best friend, Logan James, we’d gotten into a lot of trouble together. My parents were useless and when they took off right after I turned sixteen, I moved in with the Bells until I graduated. They weren’t my blood, but they were my family.
When I moved to Atlanta, we kept in touch for a while, but I’d let it slide the last couple of years. Dillon was still in Miami, where I’d spent my childhood, but Logan had moved to Boston and was now married with a kid on the way. Our lives had grown in different directions—Kassidy was an executive at a large publishing house in Miami, Dillon was a professor at the University of Miami, and Logan was a high school teacher in Boston. But, a large part of the blame for the lapse in communication laid with me. Guilt ate at me as I thought about how I’d pushed everyone from my life. I just hadn’t been in the mood to return calls or emails. I’d thrown myself into my work, only coming out of it when Weston dragged me away.
“Yeah, I’ve been”—I wasn’t sure how to explain it—“well, I’ll keep in better touch from now on. You and Dillon should come here for a visit.”
We shot the shit for a few minutes, talking about our families and reminiscing a little. Then, she got right down to business.
“What can I do for you, Rhys?”
?
?I heard you were a big shot publisher these days. Called to congratulate you.”
“Uh huh,” she muttered, her sarcasm laced with humor. “Spit it out, Peanut. What do you want?”
My grin widened. Kassidy didn’t take shit from anyone, least of all a guy she’d known since he was five. “I have a favor to ask.”
“I figured as much, but let me stop you right here. If you need someone to help you bury a body, you called the wrong Bell. Dillon’s the one with the shovel collection.”
I laughed deeply, reveling in the joy I felt at her humor, something that only days ago would have bounced right off of me. “Actually,” I knew just the way to Kassidy Bell’s soft side and I wasn’t above exploiting it—“I met someone.”
