Authors: J. Kenner
“He cleans up well,” Jamie says, with a deliberately lascivious gleam in her eye.
“He does,” I say, moving between them and hooking my arms through theirs. “And he’s mine.”
As the crow flies, it isn’t far to the village. Since we are not crows, however, we have to deal with the twisty, turny, tiny streets, and it takes about half an hour. I don’t mind. The area is charming, filled with A-frame houses tucked into the mountainside and spectacular views that take your breath away. The village is located on the lake, so technically we could have taken one of the boats moored at Damien’s dock. The restaurant itself—The Belgian Waffle Works—sits right on the water, with a huge patio of outdoor seating. I catch a whiff of batter cooked to a crispy golden brown as we approach, and breathe in deep.
“That’s more what I was going for,” Jamie admits. “But, hey, you can still thank me. If I hadn’t completely trashed breakfast, we wouldn’t have a shopping morning.”
“We’re deeply grateful,” Damien says, sliding his arm around my waist.
Thirty minutes later, I’m even more grateful, because we’re not only seated on the patio with a view of the water, but we each have a plate overflowing with a giant waffle, eggs, and enough bacon to feed a small army.
“I’m going to fall into a food coma,” I protest.
“We’ll work it off by walking the shops,” Jamie announces. She turns to Damien, her smile wide. “You really are awesome, you know. Thanks for inviting me. I was having a shit week.”
“Anytime,” he says, then leans over to give her a light kiss on her cheek.
She fans her face, making me laugh.
“Hang on, you two.” I pull out my iPhone and motion for them to scoot their chairs closer together, then take a couple of snaps. “I’d take some of the view, too, but the phone won’t do it justice.”
“I think I can assure you we’ll be back,” Damien says.
“Or you can just buy a new camera,” Jamie says. “For that matter, get one for each of his houses. That should ensure that Leica never goes out of business, right?”
“Not a bad idea,” Damien says, with a playful gleam in his eye. “I like the idea of spreading you around all my properties. Hell, I like the idea of you naked in all my properties.”
My face heats, and I widen my eyes and shoot a glance at Jamie, who has leaned back in her chair with a
whoop
.
“Don’t you guys ever give it a rest?” she asks.
“Not really,” Damien says, surprising me by pulling me to him and planting a bone-melting kiss.
“God,” Jamie says. “I am so freaking jealous. Do you have a brother?”
“Afraid not.”
“Figures,” Jamie says as Damien slides his chair closer to mine and hooks his arm around me. I lean against him, wishing things could always be this calm, this happy.
“It sounds sappy as shit, but you two know how lucky you are, right?”
“Yes,” Damien says sincerely. “We know.”
“Good,” she says, then sighs deeply. “Damn, but I needed this.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about getting fired from the commercial?” I ask.
She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “You were a little preoccupied, and it’s not like there was anything you could do, especially not from Germany.” Jamie had recently been cast in a national commercial, but before shooting began she started dating her co-star, an up-and-comer named Bryan Raine. When that ended badly, Raine apparently decided that Jamie’s commercial career needed to, as well.
“There’s something I can do,” Damien says.
She shakes her head firmly. “No, you helped me get the job in the first place. That was more than enough. They paid me for the gig anyway—they had to the way the contract was written—so I’m good. I just need to think about how I’m going to get my shit together.”
“You will,” Damien says.
Jamie reaches across the table and takes both our hands. “Thanks. Really.”
“You’re welcome,” I say. “And you know I love you, right?”
“What’s not to love?” Jamie asks with the kind of shit-eating grin that tells me that the morning melancholy has passed.
She tightens her grip on my hand before letting go. “You know people are staring at us, right?”
I glance around and see that she’s right. Not everybody, but there are more than a few people sharing the patio with us who look guiltily away when my gaze sweeps over them. “It comes with the territory,” I say, cocking my head toward Damien.
“Well, it’ll be my first time in the tabloids,” she says. “Guess that means I’ve finally made it despite the stupid commercial.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Damien Stark in a threesome, of course. It’ll be all over the Internet by morning, don’t you think?”
I do a face-palm. “Jesus, Jamie, do you think you could say that a little louder? Or better yet, not at all?”
“I’m joking,” she says, and I know her well enough to know that it’s true. I catch Damien’s eye and see the tiniest shake of his head. I get the message—he’s telling me to keep my mouth shut. Jamie may think that she’s joking, but she hasn’t lived with the paparazzi like Damien has. Or, for that matter, like I have. Depending on who has seen the three of us together, the bullshit story that she just suggested isn’t outside the realm of possibility.
Well, great
. I take a deep breath and tell myself not to worry about it.
“I want another coffee,” I say, both because it’s true and because I want to change the subject. “And then I think it’s time to shop.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I like the cyan one,” I tell Jamie, who is debating between a traditional tan leather backpack and one dyed the color of the sky.
“Not too loud?”
“For you? Nothing’s too loud.”
She smirks, but puts back the tan one. “Okay. I shouldn’t, but I’m going for it. I mean, I did just get paid. And I ought to get at least one nice thing out of that damn commercial.”
Since I agree, I don’t try to talk her out of it. I’ve known Jamie a long time, and with her, retail therapy goes a long way.
We’re inside a specialty leather goods store, and although Damien started out by teasing me about all the sensual possibilities inherent in the collection of belts hanging on the men’s side of the store, he has since stepped outside to take a call. I head out to find him, signaling to Jamie who is at the counter waiting her turn to pay.
It takes a minute to spot him, but I finally see him on a bench near a grassy area where some weary parents have settled on the lawn with their kids. He holds up a finger when he sees me, then points to his earpiece. I nod, then sit quietly beside him, enjoying the late summer afternoon.
“No,” Damien’s saying, “you need to understand me. This is my top priority. I want the entire thing gone over with a microscope. Whatever there is to learn, you learn it. You follow every thread, you go down every rabbit hole. Are we clear? Good. Call me in a few hours with an update. Yes, a few hours. Fine. That’s one thing settled then. What about the gate? Can we speed up the timetable on that? Well, that’s good news at least. Get that wrapped up today and make sure everyone has access. All right. Yes. I’ll speak to you later.”
He ends the call and looks at me, his mouth curving into an automatic smile. If I didn’t know him so well, I’d believe that everything was business as usual. But I do know him well, and I can see the hint of worry in his eyes.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Just the ins and outs of running the universe. I’ve been somewhat absent for the last few weeks. A few things have slipped through the cracks.”
“I don’t see how,” I quip. “You had Stark Central set up in the hotel.”
“It’s nothing,” he repeats, but I know better.
“You’re worried,” I say.
I can almost see the denial rise on his lips, and I wonder if I need to remind him of the talk we had on the jet. But then he seems to think better of it. “I am.”
“Then I know it’s not business. You don’t worry about business,” I add in response to his querying look. “You just take charge.”
“I didn’t realize I was so transparent.”
“Only to me,” I say. “So what is it, Damien? Is it Sofia? Is it that motion to release the photos? Has something happened?”
He leans back against the bench and tilts his face up to the sky. After a moment, he plucks his sunglasses from where they are hooked on the collar of his T-shirt and puts them on. “There are just a few things I need to follow up on,” he says, turning his head so that he is facing me. “Business about which I’m not worried, but which does require my attention.”
“I see,” I say, though what I should do is call him out for bullshit.
“And, yes,” he adds gently. “I’m still worried about Sofia.”
This time, I know that it is the truth. I also know that it’s an apology.
“You’ll find her. Will you tell me as soon as you learn something new?”
His answer comes immediately. “Of course.”
My chest feels tight and I am suddenly aware that I’ve been holding my breath. It’s only then I realize how much had been riding on that one simple question.
Can’t you tell me what’s going on?
I’d begged him in Germany.
Can’t you talk to me? No,
he’d answered.
Today, he’d said yes.
Relieved, I lean against him, sighing gently as his arm goes around me and basking in the relief and the knowledge that at least for now, I feel safe and connected.
Soon, Jamie joins us, a shopping bag dangling from her arm. “Y’all worn out already?”
“I’m afraid I need to head back to the house,” Damien says. “But you two can continue shopping.”
“Not me. Not unless you want to.” Jamie looks at me, but I shake my head. I’m pretty much over the shopping, too. “I want the hot tub,” she says.
“I think we can go one better,” Damien says, then hits a button on his phone. “Sylvia, can you contact Adriana? See if she can get someone to the Arrowhead house this afternoon for Ms. Fairchild and Ms. Archer. Yes, that’s right. An hour. Call or text the details once you have them. Fine. I’ll be in on Friday.”
Jamie aims a very clear
what the fuck
look at me, which I in turn voice to Damien. “What’s going on?”
“I thought you two might like massages on the patio,” he says, and Jamie immediately high-fives me.
“You know you’re amazing,” she tells him.
He meets my eyes. “So I’ve been told.”
When we get back to the house, Damien tells us that we’ll find bathing suits in the trunk in Jamie’s guest room and then shows us how to operate the controls on the hot tub. “Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge,” he adds, “including the champagne.”
I reach out and take his hand, twining his fingers in mine. I want to keep him at my side, but I also know that he’s giving me and Jamie the chance to hang out on our own, something we haven’t done in what feels like a very long time.
“Don’t work too hard,” I say.
“Don’t play too hard,” he counters.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
In fact, we don’t play hard at all. Just the opposite. I’m pretty sure that I have never been quite so lazy in all of my life. For that matter, I am pretty sure that popular mythology has it backward. It’s not hell that’s hot, it’s heaven. Hot and wet with jets that pound away your tension.
Jamie’s arms are spread out and she has her head tilted back. “I can’t even tell you how much I need this. And a massage, too? I mean, seriously. There is a god, and his name is Damien.” She lifts her head long enough to flash me a wicked grin. “Seriously, Nik. I am totally in love with your boyfriend.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Me, too.”
Hours later we are hot tubbed and massaged to within an inch of our lives. I’m as limp as a noodle and splayed out on the huge daybed by Jamie. I want to read, but it’s too much work, and I close my eyes and settle into the bliss of total relaxation.
That’s where Damien finds me when he finally emerges from his work cave.
“Hey,” he whispers, brushing his fingers over my shoulder. “How was your day?”
I blink up at the incredible man smiling down at me. “What time is it?”
“Just past six,” he says, which has my eyes opening even wider. I reach for my phone and realize he’s right—and that I’ve been napping for over an hour.
“Never mind,” he says. “I can tell how your day was. And I’m envious.”
“You could have joined us,” I say, giving Jamie a nudge. Like me, she’s dozed off. Unlike me, she’s rolled over onto her stomach and is now snoring softly into a pillow.
Damien, it turns out, has ordered dinner from a local restaurant, and we have a variety of sandwiches, soups, and salads to munch on during the movie he’s planned for us to watch. “I figured I had earned some downtime, too,” he says. “Assuming you don’t mind me joining the party?”
“I think we can suffer through it,” I say, brushing a light kiss over his lips. “Thanks,” I add. “Jamie needed this. And so did I.”
Thursday arrives in much the same manner as Wednesday, although this go-round Jamie actually manages to make pancakes that resemble pancakes. We eat them on the patio with freshly squeezed orange juice, and as I look out over the sun-dappled lake, I can’t help but feel like I could stay here forever.
“I’m half-tempted to call Lisa and reschedule for Monday.”
“Oh, yes, please,” Jamie says.
I look at Damien, but his expression remains calmly bland, offering me no help one way or the other.
“No,” I finally say. “I need to see this space, and I want to talk with Lisa, too.”
“You’re meeting her at ten?” Damien asks, then continues when I nod. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. Edward can meet you at the tower and take you to the property in the limo.”
“Um, I don’t think so. Let’s just leave early enough that you can drop me at home.”
“I have early meetings.”
“Then we’ll have Edward drop me at home.”
“That’s a waste of time,” Damien says. “You can dress here, then go straight to your meeting. I’ll meet you afterward and you can give me the rundown.”
“No,” I say.
“Dammit, Nikki—”
“No
.
”
I hold up a hand. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know something is. And you can just spill it right now.”