Authors: Cheryl Douglas
Trey eyed the diamond ring flashing on his left hand. It may have taken him too many years, but he finally had his priorities straight. “I’m gonna ask Sierra to come on tour with me.”
“What about her charity work?”
“I’m pretty sure she can take care of that from anywhere. Listen, I’m not sayin’ this is gonna be easy, but I’m determined to make it work. Are you with me on this or do I have to fire your ass?”
He was only half kidding. He would do whatever it took to make his marriage work, even if that meant giving his best friend his walking papers.
“Do I have a choice, Trey?”
“No, but you do have a choice about whether you’d like to be my best man.”
Luc laughed. “No, I don’t. You’re like a brother to me. Of course I have to be your best man.”
“You know, you’ve never told me why you have a problem with Sierra.”
“For one, she’s too damn good for you.”
Trey laughed “I know, but other than that.”
“She’s the kind of girl who could throw a guy off his game.”
“What do you mean?”
“Please, you take one look at her and you think about lazy days lounging in bed instead of keeping your eyes on the big prize.”
“She is the big prize, man. She’s all I’ll ever need to be happy.”
Luc groaned. “Shut the hell up before you make me lose my lunch.”
Trey chuckled. “What about you? Am I gonna have to kick your ass for hurting my sister again?”
“I haven’t even spoken to your sister in weeks. Last I heard, she and Josh were heating up the sheets and I was thinking about kicking his ass.”
“If that’s the way you feel, why are you wastin’ time? Marry the girl already.”
“No way, not me, never gonna happen. I don’t do marriage or that happily-ever-after shit. After watching my parents nearly kill each other for twelve years, I can’t imagine why anyone would put themselves through that.”
He knew about his friend’s parents, their volatile marriage, and bitter divorce. Given everything Luc had witnessed growing up, he couldn’t blame the guy for being a little gun-shy. “Not all marriages are like that.”
“You’ve heard the stats, Trey. Half of all marriages end in divorce, which means half of all kids come from broken homes. You may not know what that does to a kid, but I do. That’s why I decided early on I was never gonna get married. It’s not worth the risk.”
“I’m not gonna lie to you, Luc. I love you like a brother, but I sure as hell wish my sister had the good sense to fall for a guy like Josh instead of you.”
“I thought she was into Josh?”
“Not anymore; she told me they stopped seeing each other.”
Luc whooped. “Well hot damn, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day, buddy.”
Trey shook his head. He would never understand the dynamics of that relationship. “You don’t want her, but you don’t want anyone else to have her. Is that right?”
“I didn’t say I don’t want her, I do. I just don’t want to do the whole marriage and babies thing and she won’t settle for anything less. So hell no, I don’t want anyone else to have her.”
“You know someday she’s going to meet someone who’ll give her everything she wants, don’t you?” Trey thought they may have lost the connection when his comment was met with a long silence.
“I know that. I want her to be happy. Hell, I wish things could be different, but I can’t change who I am, Trey.”
He wanted to argue, to tell his friend that anything was possible if they wanted it badly enough, but he didn’t think Luc was ready to hear it, so he decided to let it go.
They were pulling up in front of a traditional colonial home in an estate subdivision and Trey realized it was time to confront the man who’d almost destroyed his life. “Listen, man, I’m here. I’ve gotta go.”
“Fair warning, you’re gonna have one angry manager and publicist if this ends badly.”
“Relax. I just want to make sure he knows that if he messes with me or Sierra again, I’ll make him wish he hadn’t.”
Luc laughed. “Okay, but do me a favor and keep your hands to yourself.”
“Will do, boss. Talk to you later.”
The chauffeur walked around to his door and opened it.
Trey got out and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. His friend offered good advice. He came here to make a point, not to get thrown in jail for assaulting a judge.
He rang the doorbell and forced himself to wait thirty seconds before ringing it again.
A matronly woman wearing a maid’s uniform answered. “May I help you?”
He tipped his cowboy hat. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m here to see Mr. Cortright.” He decided he would stand a better chance of gaining access to the house if she didn’t see him as a threat.
He would prefer to have the element of surprise in his favor when he saw the old man. He could only hope she wasn’t a fan of country music. If she was, she would no doubt be aware of his connection to her employer.
Her thin lips twisted into a slight smile. “Is the judge expecting you?”
“No, ma’am, but the judge and I do have some business...”
“Liz, did I hear the doorbell?” Eric came down the winding staircase, dressed for a round of golf.
Trey flattened his palm against the heavy wood door. “Eric, we need to talk.” He didn’t wait to be invited in. He pushed past the surprised housekeeper and stalked to the foot of the stairs.
“Who the hell do you think you are, barging into my house this way?”
Trey noted his firm grip on the edge of the banister. His knuckles were turning white and there was a slight tremor to his hand.
At least the man had the good sense to recognize danger when he saw it in the form of a 6 foot- 4, 230-pound former linebacker who had earned his reputation bringing down men twice his size. But the stakes had never been this high during a football game. Everything that meant anything to him was riding on this.
Trey smirked at him. “You know you’re gonna need that six-foot-high bench and an armed bailiff to protect you from me, don’t you, old man?”
Eric drew himself up to his full height, looking indignant. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, boy. I’ve never been intimidated by anybody in my life. It’s the other way around. I talk and people listen.”
Trey laughed. “Ah, but I haven’t committed any crimes.” He glared at the much smaller man. “At least not yet.”
The color drained from his face. “Are you threatening me?” He looked past him, toward the front door where his housekeeper stood listening. “Did you hear that, Liz? I do believe this boy just threatened me. I think you’d better call the police.”
Trey smiled at the older woman. “You may want to hold off on that, Liz.”
He turned back to Eric. “Unless, of course, you want the world to know about your sordid little deal with Megan.” He made a tsk tsk sound and waved his finger in the other man’s face. “That’s not exactly behavior befitting an honorable judge now, is it?”
Eric cleared his throat and stepped past Trey. “That will be all for now, Liz. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
She bowed her head, obviously trying to hide the smile on her face. “Yes, sir.”
Trey followed Eric into a paneled library and closed the door. He leaned on the edge of the desk and crossed his booted feet. “Now, where were we?” He folded his arms over his chest and watched Eric pour two glasses of scotch. “That’s right. I was about to kick your ass for the scam you tried to pull with Megan.”
Eric tried to appear unaffected by the threat as he offered Trey one of the glasses.
Trey declined the offer with a firm shake of his head.
“I may have had a few brief conversations with your girlfriend.” He gripped his glass until his knuckles turned white. “After all, we had a mutual interest: your relationship with my fiancé.”
“From what I hear, she’s your ex-fiancé and my relationship with Megan was casual, to say the least. I never intended to let it get serious and she knew that.”
Eric took a drink of scotch. “But you were sleeping with her?”
Trey ground his teeth in frustration. “Not that it’s any of your business, but that was before Sierra came home.”
He paced the room. “Nashville is not Sierra’s home; this is her home.”
Trey shrugged. “For now, maybe. But that’s not the point, is it? You tried to trick me into marrying a woman I didn’t care about just so you could have Sierra.”
He turned to Trey, his blue eyes dark with suppressed rage. “I had Sierra until you came along and screwed everything up.”
Trey threw his hands up in the air. “What the hell did you have to offer her? You’re old enough to be her father. You could never give her a family.”
Eric emptied his glass and reached for the second. “You think Sierra is holding out hope for a family?” He let the statement hit its mark before posing the next question. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”
Trey tried to remain calm, but he felt an uneasy feeling taking root deep in his gut. “Tell me what?”
He grinned, revealing perfect porcelain teeth. “Sierra can’t have any more children.”
In the time it took for him to take a step back, Trey was on him, fisting the front of his shirt in clenched hands. “You’re lyin’, you miserable son of a bitch.”
He shook his head frantically. “No, I’m not. Go and ask her for yourself.” He pointed a trembling finger toward the door.
Trey dropped his hands and pointed his finger in Eric’s face. “If you ever come near Sierra again or so much as utter her name, I will ruin you.”
Eric glared at him, clearly not used to being on the receiving end of a threat.
“And you know I have the money and power to do it, old man.” Trey shoved his hands in his pockets because he could no longer trust the thin grip he had on his control. “Consider this your last warning. One more misstep and I promise you, you’ll wish you’d never been stupid enough to cross me. Is that understood?”
Eric paused before nodding his head.
“Good, now get the hell out of my way.”
He quickly stepped aside.
Trey glanced at a picture of Sierra on a nearby table and snagged it, holding it up. “Forget you ever laid eyes on her, or I swear to God, you’ll wish you never had.”
He threw the door open, the noise ricocheting off the walls.
Sierra had just hung up the phone after a long and arduous discussion with one of her board members about potential venues for the holiday fundraiser when the phone rang again, three short rings, indicating someone was buzzing up from the lobby. She wasn’t expecting company and she certainly wasn’t dressed for it. She considered ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of her.
She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Sierra, can I come up? We need to talk.”
He needed no introduction; his voice still haunted her dreams at night and flooded her stereo’s speakers during the daylight hours. “What are you doing here?”
“Sierra, please, let me come up. We can’t have this conversation while I’m standin’ in your lobby.”
She considered her options, but realized she had none. She couldn’t send him home, not yet. “Fine. I’ll buzz you up. It’s suite 302.”
She stood and checked her hair in the wall mirror. It was a tousled mess and she hadn’t bothered with make-up after her earlier bout with morning sickness. She pulled her hair out of the elastic and finger combed it, but it still looked like she just hauled her butt out of bed to answer the door. That was the blessing and curse of working from home most days. She could wear her pajamas and hold off on showering and brushing her teeth until she felt like it.
She panicked, trying to remember whether she had brushed after her last bout with the porcelain goddess. Thank God she had, not that she intended to get up close and personal with him.
A rhythmic knock on the door sent her into a fresh wave of panic. She looked at her clothes: black yoga pants and a cropped black hoodie that revealed at least two inches of her mid-section. She was seriously regretting her decision to forgo the tank top. She only hoped he attributed her slight weight gain to a healthy appetite or, better yet, didn’t notice at all.
She placed her hand over her stomach in a futile attempt to settle her nerves before she opened the door. “Hi, Trey.” She took a step back and ushered him inside. Taking a deep whiff of his cologne as he stepped inside, she cursed her weakness. She felt like a chronic dieter, desperate for a taste of a forbidden delicacy. She only hoped she had the willpower to resist, especially when her first instinct was to devour him whole.
He smiled, his eyes travelling up and down her body before finally settling on her face. “Did I catch you at a bad time, darlin’?”
She swallowed convulsively, trying to find the lost power of speech. “Uh, no, I was just...” She gestured toward the small desk in the corner. “Working,” she finished lamely.
He grinned again. “I thought maybe I’d dragged you away from a nap.”
Nap. Bed. This conversation and her thoughts were treading into dangerous territory. “No, I...”
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she formulate a coherent sentence? Could it be the fact that she was keeping a life-changing secret from the man and he could find out at any moment? She glanced over to the desk where she had taped her ultrasound picture to one of the shelves. She was so busted.
He wandered around the small apartment, his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. “Nice place you got here.”
She cleared her throat. “Thanks. Can I get you something to drink?” Her only thought was of getting him out of the room and away from the picture. Given the fact the apartment was small, that left only the kitchen. Unless of course you considered a bedroom with a big bed and a bathroom with a shower stall built for two, neither of which were a good option under the circumstances.
“No, I’m good. Thanks.” He took his jacket off and draped it over a nearby armchair.
She couldn’t help but notice his powerful chest and biceps beneath the tight cotton shirt. She didn’t know what it was about being pregnant, but her sexual fantasies had become more and more vivid and they always centered on this one man.