Whiskey and Honey Can a forbid Heather Lauren

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WHISKEY & HONEY

EMPIRE RECORDS SERIES, BOOK 1

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HEATHER LAUREN

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Edited by

EDITED BY KIMBERLY DAWN

Illustrated by

SARA KIL

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

1.

Lyla

2.

Lyla

3.

Cole

4.

Lyla

5.

Lyla

6.

Cole

7.

Cole

8.

Lyla

9.

Cole

10.

Lyla

11.

Cole

12.

Lyla

13.

Lyla

14.

Cole

15.

Cole

16.

Lyla

17.

Cole

18.

Lyla

19.

Lyla

20.

Cole

21.

Lyla

22.

Cole

23.

Lyla

24.

Cole

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25.

Lyla

26.

Cole

27.

Lyla

28.

Cole

29.

Lyla

30.

Cole

31.

Lyla

Epilogue

Thank You!
About the Author

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To my loving and supportive

future husband Ronnie.

I’m so lucky to get to love you.

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Copyright 2021 © by Heather Lauren

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons,
living or dead, brands, media, business establishments, events,
or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Without
limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of
this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced
into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the
copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a
work of fiction. This ebook is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away
to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it,
or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it
and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard
work of this author.

Created with Vellum

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’m so thankful and grateful for the miracle of

publishing this book.

It’s been a very long road and wouldn’t have

happened without the love and unyielding support

from my amazing man who inspires so many dirty

thoughts.

To my children who are the absolute best and know

how to show me love by giving me time to write

and share a few adventures with the world.

I am the luckiest woman on earth and look forward

to sharing more novels with everyone.

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1

LYLA

Flushing and turning from the stall after upchucking
for the first time—which I’m sure won’t be the last
—I quickly turn away from the gross public toilet
of the Chicago Police Department. How is this
happening? This can’t possibly be my life. The
years I’ve sacrificed. The blood, sweat, and lots
and lots of tears I’ve shed all for nothing. Worse
than nothing, my life as I knew it as of six a.m., the
normal routine of the gym, the restaurant, and then
bed, is all over and has exploded spectacularly in
my face. I finish washing my hands and head out of
the women’s restroom. As soon as I open the door,
Detective Graves is waiting for me. That’s right. I
can’t even be trusted to use the bathroom because
this balding, fat, pompous asshat thinks my five
foot seven skinny ass actually embezzled all my
money from myself and also the restaurant I co-

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own and work at as the top chef. Howard Stapleton
is a fucking dead man when I get my hands on him.
My business partner has just stabbed me in the
back so hard I can feel it coming out of my chest in
a fiery blaze.

Instead of tears, my body can only produce

vomit. Lots and lots of it for the past twenty
excruciating minutes. To be told my dream is over
and I’ve broken the law when I know I’ve done
nothing wrong has my anger level over my boiling
point. I’m not like most women in the sense of hurt
feelings. Fuck feelings! Feelings are stupid and
pointless, and I don’t want to feel them. I’ve been
told this is a crazy and unrealistic outlook,
especially since anger is a feeling and my most
popular go-to. I really don’t fucking care. I am
angry. I’ve worked too hard to be named Chicago’s
next greatest chef and put my restaurant on the map
when it was nothing but a broken-down rusting
warehouse six years ago. Yeah, I did that. Maybe
not by myself but I can’t find it in me to be
thankful for my no-good partner, Howard, at the
moment. I feel like strangling the fucker right now.
As if he knows I’m thinking illegal thoughts,
Detective Graves gently puts his hand around my
elbow as we continue walking down the hallway of
the precinct. We pass a man handcuffed to a desk
who is covered in dirt and what looks like blood.
His eyes are blue, his face covered in dark rust-

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colored smears. I’m a tough bitch, but I find myself
stepping closer to Graves and walking a little faster.
I don’t know how I got here. I’m not a criminal.
I’ve never broken the law. I’ve never in my life
thought I would ever be in a police station, never
mind the fact I have no idea how long I’m going to
be here or if these officers will be closing me in a
jail cell of my own to spend the rest of my life…

“Ms.Turner, have a seat,” Graves instructs as

we walk inside a cold room I assume is the
interrogation room.

“As I stated before, you are here because we

have evidence that a large amount of money has
been funneling through your restaurant for the past
five years and even more funds have been
transferred to offshore accounts in the Caribbean
and also parts of Europe. I hate to keep repeating
myself, so if you would please explain your side of
the story for the record,” he says as he extends his
hand and points to the large window behind me.

“Sir, I assure you I had no idea of any of this.

I’m a chef. I cook. That’s it. Everything else has
been managed by my partner, Howard Stapleton.
He has run all our finances for the last five years
that Warehouse 39 has been open. I can’t begin to
explain something I have a million questions about
myself. I can’t believe this is even happening. I’ve
trusted Howard to run and manage it all. Where is
he? What has he said? Please just tell me this is a

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really bad joke,” I croak out.

“I’m afraid that’s not the case, ma’am. I do

have good news in all this, but you’re not going to
like it, and as far as the location of Howard
Stapleton, we don’t know. We were hoping to get
that information from you, but it’s become clear
over the last eight hours that the name Howard
Stapleton is an alias and not the man’s legal name.
I’m sorry to inform you, Ms. Turner, but your assets
are currently being seized by the United States
government and all your bank accounts locked until
further investigation can completely clear your
name in all this.”

“I’m going to throw up again,” I say, lowering

my face to look at my hands in my lap like they
somehow have the answers.

“How the fuck did this happen? How the hell

did he get away but yet I’m sitting here losing
everything. Am I really going to go to jail for
something I didn’t do?”

I look Graves dead in the eye with the fiercest

glare I can manage as my anger rises and boils my
blood, and I’m sure it shows all over my face.

“Well, ma’am, I did say I had some good news.

We have tracked the illegal paper trail to your
partner and are doing our best to clear you of all
charges. We just need your cooperation and not
your temper,” he says with a professional glare
right back in my face.

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That cools me a bit. If best case scenario gets

me the hell out of here and not serving time, I’ll
play ball and try not to lose it. “Of course,” is all I
can say between gritted teeth.

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2

LYLA

Forty-eight hours later, I am finally allowed to be
escorted out of the Chicago PD. My name is not
cleared, and I am not a free citizen, but Detective
Graves is honestly trying to help. Even so, my life
still feels like it’s over. My one phone call was
received by the only person I knew would come
save me from this hell I’ve gotten myself into. Bad
news is Marcus still lives in California, and that’s a
thirty-hour drive, or a sleepless red- eye flight that
has my best friend standing at the bottom of the
police department stairs. There are puffy dark
circles under his brown eyes, and his emerald green
dress shirt and black slacks are wrinkled, but as
soon as he looks up at me, a smile still manages to
stretch across his face. Growing up was a constant
hustle for me until I met him, my mom never being
a parent always off with a new man at a new bar or

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passed out drunk in bed nursing a hangover. Our
friendship has been the glue that’s held me together
and Marcus and Charlie were my entire support
team as I put myself through culinary school.
Always encouraging me to follow my dream and
here he is smiling at me like I didn’t just disappoint
him.

I continue down the stairs a little faster. Good

thing Graves doesn’t seem to mind. I think he
believes I really am innocent now after our very
long talk. I was able to give him a few names of
men I knew Howard worked with. I’m still not sure
if it’s helpful since I was under the impression they
weren’t involved in the restaurant at all. Howard
took meetings with them there so I had met them
and knew their names but that was it. I also gave
them my keys to the restaurant in which I was told
to not return to. Ever. That one I will be crying
about later when I’m alone. Right now, I’m going to
hug my best friend. A man who is like a brother to
me and the only family I have other than Charlie.
Why did I ever leave San Diego?

“Hey, how are you?” Marcus whispers as he

wraps his huge arms around me.

“I’m fucking terrible but so happy to see you,”

I choke out, squeezing my eyes closed, not wanting
to cry stupid tears.

“I can only imagine, babe. Let’s get you home.”
“Funny you should say home since currently I

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don’t have one.”

“What are you talking about?”
“If you’re referring to the overpriced apartment

I used to own downtown, I’m not allowed to ever
set foot in it again,” I say, looking up at him with
embarrassment and moving out of his arms. “Funny
thing about being accused of embezzlement is that I
lose abso-fucking-lutley everything. Including but
not limited to,” I say, pointing my finger up,
continuing to count my misfortune on my fingers,
“my car, my apartment, my checking and saving
accounts, all the cash that was in my wallet when I
was arrested in front of my staff at the Warehouse,
and oh yeah, my restaurant.” I check off the last
gut-wrenching fact while touching my pinkie.

Marcus just looks at me and runs his big dark

hands down his face. “First things first, Lyla; let’s
get you out of here, and then we’ll figure
everything else out somehow.”

With anyone else I would get defensive and my

bitch mode would switch on and I would say how I
can do everything myself and don’t need anyone,
but this is Marcus and I’ve never felt more lost in
my whole life so I just nod my head and get inside
the cab as he holds the door for me.

“So, you want to start at the beginning here,

babe? ’Cause I just talked to you the other day and
you raved about how well everything was going.
What changed and what the hell is this

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embezzlement bullshit?” Marcus says from beside
me in the cab, shaking his head.

I start at the beginning and retell him how I met

Howard at business convention, we knew a lot of
the same people and when I asked around about
him he was highly praised for helping other
businesses climb the market. Not long after opening
night everything was going exactly the way he
promised, and I let him take over all the finances
without checking on it myself. I trusted him
completely and never once looked at the books just
kept my nose in the kitchen until I was brought into
the station by Chicago’s finest. While my heart
bleeds all over the taxi that smells like body odor,
we ride around the city not knowing where to go.
An hour later, I’m even more exhausted and the
cab fare is at $200.

“Can we find a rock for me to crawl under? I’m

so tired and overwhelmed right now.”

“Yeah, of course. I would also like the

detective’s number and the names you said you
gave him. I’ll see what options we have,” he says as
he shrugs his shoulders. He looks as tired as I feel,
and I’m so grateful he came all this way for me.

“Marcus, thank you so much for being here.

I’m really sorry you stopped what I’m sure was
important, just to come rescue me. I won’t ever
forget it,” I say with tears filling the corners of my
eyes. Damn it.

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“Well, good thing I meant it when I said call me

if you need anything,” he says with a big grin on his
face.

“Sir, could you take us to the Marriott

downtown, please.”

“Yes! Fuckin finally, bro,” the young driver

says, clearly annoyed instead of happy about the
high fare. When we arrive, Marcus pays, and we
get two rooms. Well, Marcus gets two rooms. I was
a five-star chef in one of the biggest cities in the
world with a loaded bank account and even a few
investments in real estate. I had a plan and life was
great. I had everything I ever wanted, and now I
have to start all over and be grateful that I’m not
behind bars. This isn’t fair. It fucking sucks. But the
room is perfect. Cold and dark. I’m so excited I
silently hug Marcus and head straight to the bed.
What I wouldn’t give to wake up tomorrow and
have this whole situation just be some kind of awful
nightmare.

“Good night,” I hear as he closes the door.

“ U

GH

! What do you want? Leave me be,” I

grumble as Marcus swiftly yanks the hotel
comforter off. “Oh, you, sir, are an asshole,” I say,
pathetically grabbing for the blankets that are now

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on the floor. It is far too early in the morning and I
still have a headache from all the feeling I had to
deal with yesterday. Far too much for someone who
likes to burry such things and move through life
pretending everything’s perfect. Hard to do when
someone shatters the glass house and shows the
entire world your really just a sad little girl who
should never tried to dream.

“Get your ass up. We got a game plan that

starts with a four-p.m. flight to your fresh start in
sunny San Diego,” he says with a mischievous grin
stretched across his handsome face.

“What the actual fuck?” I say skeptically as I

fully wake up and sit up.

“You heard me. Your boy saves the day again. I

talked to your detective and even had to sign some
papers he sent over, but you are officially my bitch
and—”

He doesn’t get to finish that sentence before

I’m up at his side, punching his shoulders as many
times as I can, hoping my repeated hits might hurt a
little bit.

“Ow, ow, ow. Okay. Okay. You know I only said

that to get you out of bed. You are in no way my
bitch, and I love and respect you. I’m also going to
take care of you. I did get that old man to let me
take you to another state which is huge so he must
be building a solid case. Anyway, I’m taking you
home, and we will figure this shit out.”

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“Eeeeekkkkkk!” I squeal, smiling at my best

friend and hero. “Dude, are you serious? Messing
with me right now would be considered cruel, you
know.”

Before he has a chance to say anything there’s

a knock on the door. “Room Service” a man from
the other side says.

“Marcus, you are my hero,” I say in a loud and

excited voice. My phone rings from my purse on
the floor. Pulling it out, I see it’s Charlie calling. My
dear sweet friend who is so shy and possibly the
opposite of me. From the first day we met I’ve
never met a girl more my soulmate then her and I
know whenever I can’t talk to Marcus, she’s
always got my back.

“Hello, Charlie Brown.”
“Lyla! Thank you for finally answering your

phone! I’ve been so worried. Marcus ran out of
here so fast you’d think a woman was chasing
him.” She laughs. Clearly, Marcus called her and
told her what’s up or she wouldn’t be joking.

“That would have been funny to watch, had

that actually been the reason he left.” I sigh.

“He called and told me everything last night.

I’m so sorry, Lyla. I can’t believe this is all
happening. It’s not fair. You didn’t do anything
wrong,” Charlie says in her quiet little voice.

“I know that, and you and M know that, but the

United States government is still undecided.

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Luckily, it does seem like I might have a detective
on my side, so hopefully I can still escape to Cali
like Marcus was just telling me he agreed to.
Apparently, I’m going to be Marcus’ bitch, but if he
can save me from this shitshow, I’ll be his wingman
for the rest of his boner-filled days. I will single-
handedly fill his pussy calendar with more ladies
than even he will know what to do with.” I laugh as
I see Marcus smirk and shake his head at me.
Charlie’s laughing hard through the phone.

“Hey, don’t pee your pants now, Charlie. And

don’t worry about me. I’m finally coming back
home, and it’ll be a great fresh start. I’m innocent
and I know Detective Graves will prove it and
everything will be fine.”

“I know, Wonder Woman; I can’t wait to see

you,” Charlie says in a low, sad tone.

“Me too, boo. I’ll call you when we land. I

heard we are flying out of here at four p.m. but
have no idea of an arrival time,” I say, looking at
Marcus.

“Around nine, but tell her my car is at the

airport, so we don’t need a ride.”

“I heard him, Lyla. No worries. I’ll bring

breakfast by his place tomorrow. I love you both;
please be safe.”

“Okay. Love you. Bye,” I reply
“Bye”
As her call ends my phone’s screen goes back

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to home and shows I’ve missed exactly seventy-
eight calls and over a hundred text messages. Time
to get a new phone number, I think.

“Eat up. We got shit to do, kid,” Marcus says,

then stuffs his face with a bacon. A newspaper sits
on the edge of the cart, and I grab it, mindlessly
shoving my own breakfast in my mouth. It feels like
days of my life have disappeared seeing the date. I
left for work at ten forty-five a.m. Wednesday
morning. That was three days ago, and now
everything is different. I drop my fork to the table
as soon as I see my own photo on the bottom of the
front page.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” I

whisper to myself, but Marcus looks over with an
arched brow and ketchup on his cheek. I laugh a
little despite my rising worry over the Chicago Post.
He grabs it from my hands before I can start to read
the article.

“You really don’t need to be reading that shit.

Let’s talk about something totally different. Did
you master that sauce you were perfecting?”

“The caviar sauces. Yeah, I did. It was a hit.

Not that it matters now,” I say with a wink. “I
appreciate everything you’re trying to do, Marcus,
really, but I don’t even know how to do small talk
right now. I loved cooking but if that paper says
anything at all about what’s going on right now, I’m
ruined from ever being a high-profile chef again;

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hell, I may never be hired as a chef again. In any
sense,” I say out loud, just now realizing how truly
fucked I am.

“I know but reading the hate won’t help either.

You are an amazing chef. The best in the entire
world, so I know you’ll get back the reputation
that’s hurting right now and be better than ever. We
just have to wait it out and start over.”

I roll my eyes at his pep talk not ready to

consider ever having that life back.

“So how is Harmony doing?” I ask changing the

subject.

“Great. Little genius in her own right. Excelling

in everything she sets her mind too but that’s no
surprise with a mom like Grace.”

“That’s true there’s no way she got any smarts

from your dumb ass.”

His face is comical as he looks at me in

disbelief.

“Okay, joking aside, I’m glad I could be here to

bust you out of jail and bring you home. It’s not the
same without you, and I know Charlie would agree.
I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but I know
you’re stubborn as shit and you’ll get your game
back. Now finish your damn burger so I can take
you shopping ’cause until further notice, your ass
ain't got no clothes. Graves said when he can, he’ll
help arrange for some of your things to be
shipped.”

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“Some of my things. Except anything of value.

Yeah, he told me that too.” I say softly, looking at
the ground so he can’t see how utterly embarrassed
I am. “I’ll just jump in the shower and then follow
your lead in all this. I’m so grateful, Marcus. This is
super hard for me to accept, but I’m really lucky to
have you.”

“Hey, don’t make this mushy. You loaned me a

substantial amount of money just last year. In
which you have not allowed me to start paying
back yet, so I see this is the perfect time to start.”

I don’t look at him. The money I gave him was

not an investment or a loan, and it doesn’t make
this feel any better.

“Come on, babe, it’ll be fun. You can torture

me with all the girly shit you want.”

I nod, then walk into his open arms for a hug

and head for the shower.

The hot water pelts my skin and I love it. It’s so

hot it hurts but at least it’s a pain I can control. My
emotions have been mostly anger. It’s hard to see
Marcus and not feel like a failure. He had to come
save me like some poor little helpless girl that I
have fought my entire life not to be. I thought I had
it all. Top of my food game, celebrities and
socialites eating out of the palm of my hand…not
literally but still awesome.

Now I’m starting all over from scratch. Find a

new passion. Ha, what a joke. I’ll now be settling

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for any job that will hire me and live out the rest of
my lonely days with lots of cats. Fuck, I hate cats.
Come to think of it, I’ll actually be less lonely with
Marcus and Charlie around. As devastated as I am
at the moment, I’m kind of excited to go back to
Cali. Get a tan, maybe get a new hobby. Get laid.
Bahahahaha the thought makes me laugh because
I’ve never been the kind of girl to just go hook up
with a stranger. The one time I let it happen was a
low point in my life when I tried to say goodbye to
my mom, and she wouldn’t meet me. I had felt
lonely but hated every minute of being with the
guy. It’s been longer than I would ever admit since
I’ve action been with anyone, but I’ve been
nonstop busy for the last six years, and the one date
I did manage to go out on, the douchebag got so
drunk he threw up all over my lap as he tried to lift
my skirt in the back of the taxi he insisted we share
so he could safely see me home. So yeah, not a fan
of dating, but I really do not want to end up a
hateful, lonely old hag who doesn’t even like cats.

A

S

WE

MAKE

our way to our seats on American

Airlines, I glance out the window of my first-class
seat and wait for Marcus to join me. Outside its
almost pitch black, just a few red, blue and gold
lights scattered across the hill and twinkling on the
tarmac. Since we’re catching another red eye, we

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are both exhausted and not looking forward to the
drive from Los Angeles to San Diego.

“I’ll check in with Cole again when we’re

almost home. Don’t worry he won’t bother you.
He’s a great guy, we’ve become close over this last
year, you’ll like him. His office is at our place but
since he’s in real estate he’s always out on a job
site. I’ll be in the studio all day every day and home
late but feel free to come see us anytime. Charlie
lives there in a small one bedroom which I would
offer to you too if we weren’t currently still
building more around hers.”

“No worries. I’m grateful for everything

Marcus.”

But as simple as my answer is my mind drifts to

Cole. A stranger I’ll have to live with. I know
Marcus says he’s cool so I try to focus on that and
not think of all the strange men my mother used to
bring home. I’m a quiet person, always have been. I
have very few friends, but I keep them close in a
inner circle and have no plans of letting in anyone
else.

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3

COLE

“Yeah, man, I hear ya,” I say to Marcus as he
rattles off about their crazy flight. “I’m up. Yeah, I
got everything you asked for and a few extra things
just in case.”

“Thanks, man. We’ll be home in twenty. I can’t

fucking wait to sleep. I think I could sleep for a
solid twenty-four hours the way I feel right now.”

I hear a soft voice in the background but don’t

understand what she says.

“Alright, I’ll let you go. See you both soon.

Looking forward to meeting Lyla,” I say, trying to
sound as nice as possible because, in fact, I am not
looking forward to meeting my new female
roommate. Not a fan of the idea of sharing my
space with a woman again. Not my bathroom,
where she is sure to bitch about how dirty I leave
the sink or don’t put down the toilet seat or how I

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leave my towel on the floor. I don’t even want to
think about the kitchen and the rest of the house.
It’s clean now, but I can almost hear the nagging
and complaining.

To say I’m nervous is an understatement, but

I’m hoping to start out on the right foot at least. For
the sake of Marcus anyway. I don’t know this chick
and would be fine leaving it that way, but she needs
help, so I’ll play nice. For now. It’s nine thirty when
I hear the garage door open. I run my hands
nervously down my beard and push back from my
home office desk and close my laptop.

The front door opens, and I hear them laughing.

Walking down the stairs, I freeze dead in my tracks.
She’s fucking gorgeous. Tall and tan with long,
straight black hair. She’s wearing a tight navy skirt
that hits just below her knees and a white shirt that
shows off her big perky tits. Damn it.

“Hi. You must be Cole,” Lyla says, walking

farther into the apartment and extending her right
hand. I take it without realizing what I’m even
doing. My body just wants to touch her.

“That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Lyla.”
Her hand slips into mine, and it’s like a current

rips from her fingers to mine. It flows straight to my
cock; I kid you not. I can’t help but stare, but she
can’t look away either. In our magnetic staring
contest I notice that her eyes are green and have
specks of gold, and they are boring into mine like I

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might be the best thing she’s ever looked at. It feels
good. Hell, it feels fucking fantastic.

“Knock that shit off right now. Both of you.

Stop eye fucking. There will be no fucking of any
kind between you two, ya hear me?” Marcus says
as he closes the front door and locks it. I drop her
hand reluctantly and the trance we were in is
broken.

“Listen to your boy. It’s for the best. No one

wants a ride on this hot mess express,” she says
with a sarcastic laugh, but I notice her smile doesn’t
reach her eyes this time. I watch her as she starts to
look around the room taking in the bachelor pad.
I’m still speechless. I just watch as she takes in the
open kitchen with black carboards and simple living
room furnished in mostly black leather furniture
with a matching coffee table. The house is all old
brick inside and out and I left the old brick exposed
when I renovated the place. As I stare at her I can’t
help but wonder what she thinks of it. It was
remodeled from a shoe factory originally built in
the 1940s. The ceilings are twelve feet which is a
plus for me, at over six feet tall, but the room itself
is pretty small.

“Cole set up a bedroom for you upstairs, I

think,” Marcus tells her.

“Yeah, I did,” I say with far too much

enthusiasm. “The last one to the left when you
head up the stairs, which you can find straight

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down that hall.” I point to the dark hallway behind
me.

“Cool, thank you. I’m going to go to bed for the

rest of my life. It was nice to meet you, though,
Cole,” she says with a wink and walks around me
and down the hall.

“Stop it,” Marcus whispers beside me. I’m still

unable to unglue my eyes from her amazing ass as
she fades into the dark hallway. The staircase light
comes on, and she climbs them, and I finally let out
a huge breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“That can’t happen. You are the last thing she

needs right now. Please promise me you won’t.” He
says thinking I didn’t hear him the first time.

“Marcus, buddy, pal, brother, you did not tell

me you were best friends with the sexiest woman
ever known to man. You held out on me. I feel like
it’s my job as her roommate to show her a good
time. Make her forget all about her troubles…and
her name,” I say with a tilt to my head and a cocky
smirk on my face. Marcus is not smiling. My smile
drops and my eyebrows shoot to the ceiling.
“What?” I say defensively.

“Keep your fucking hands off her, Cole, or so

help me I will beat your ass into the ground.”

“What the hell, Marcus? Since when?” I ask,

shocked that he would have a real problem with me
on this matter.

“Since it’s Lyla.” He glares at me, not even a

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friendly smile on his dark face. “I mean it, Cole.
She just had her world flipped, and the last thing
she needs is a guy like you trying to get in her
pants. Just leave her alone, man. She’s my sister in
any real way that matters, and I’m asking you man
to man not to touch her.” He walks over and sits on
the sofa and rubs his hands down his face as he
exhales.

“I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but I’m so

stressed right now and to have this happen to her
just kills me. She doesn’t deserve this. She’ll act
like nothing’s wrong, like she’s got it all under
control and nothing affects her, but it does, and I
don’t know how to help her this time.” Marcus’
worried face sends guilt straight to my gut. I need
to chill out, even if it’s the last thing my body wants
to do.

“I want to be offended, but this clearly isn’t the

time. I’m sorry, man. I’ll behave and I’ll help with
anything I can.”

“Thank you. It’s not like you stood a chance

anyway,” he says as a slow smile creeps across his
face.

“Oh, very fucking funny. I don’t know where

you were a minute ago, but your girl was drooling
all over me, but I understand, you obviously got
friend-zoned and you’re feeling a little jealous now
that she’s seen a real man. I bet that stings.” I say
with a little wink, relieved when he laughs.

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“Night.” I say and walk back down the hall and

upstairs to my room. After the door closed, I take a
deep breath and sigh. I was fully prepared to hate
this chick. It’s a lot harder knowing she’s a raven-
haired goddess and I can’t fuck her. I can’t even
touch her and that’s all my body wants to do. I
know Marcus is right. It’s not like I would date her.
Or even wine and dine her. I would happily fuck
her for hours, but then I would be done and shit
around here would be awkward. I better not
complicate things for her or make shit weird around
the house for everyone. Especially since I work
from home more often than not. I’ll just leave her
alone. Help where I can and just keep to myself.
Easy enough. A damn shame but I’m a disciplined
man; I can keep it in my pants. As I close my eyes,
my mind wanders, and I remember the way she
looked me up and down like I was dinner. Fuck,
I’m in trouble.

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4

LYLA

So, this is it. My new room, my new city—well, old
city—my new life starts today. Sitting up in bed and
looking around, I feel less optimistic the more my
eyes wander. The room has nothing on the walls, no
suitcase by the door, no furniture other than the
incredibly comfortable California king bed which
was heaven for the past twelve hours I’ve been in
it. I know I need to get up and do something. I’m
not sure what, but when I told Cole I was going to
bed for the rest of my life, I didn’t really mean it.
It’s a great idea, but I can’t actually do that, as easy
as that would be.

Cole. My mind rushes to remember his face.

His dark-brown eyes and long sandy-brown hair.
He looks like all the clique surfers here except he is
bigger, broader, and was wearing plaid, which is so
unlike anyone here in San Diego. I can’t help the

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stupid smile I know is on my face as I think about
the sexy way he watched me walk in. He stayed a
good ten feet away with wide eyes and a boyish
grin.

There was an unmistakable spark when his huge

hand engulfed mine in the warmest way. I wonder if
he felt it too. Holy shit, my panties are dampening
just thinking about him.

Nope, not going to happen. Not only do I not

date, but hooking up with my new roommate is
definitely a bad idea. Marcus said so himself. He
also told me Cole is more of a player and doesn’t
do girlfriends. This was to let me know I wouldn’t
have to deal with any “dumb bitches in my new
kitchen” or so Marcus explained. I guess he didn’t
think I would be interested in Cole myself ’cause
the dad voice didn’t come out until Cole was
shaking my hand and looking at me like he wanted
to eat me. Mmmmm. No one has ever looked at me
like that. I wonder what it would be like to be
devoured by a man like Cole. So tall and beefy and
apparently experienced. A man like that might
break me.

A soft knock on the door jars me out of my

fantasy. With burning red cheeks, I’m so thankful
whoever it is can’t see me.

“Yeah?”
“Hey, Lyla, it’s Cole. I just wanted to let you

know I have to run across town for work, and

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Marcus left for the studio early this morning. I left
my cell number and an extra key on the table by
the front door. If you need anything at all, just text
me.”

I jump out of bed and rush for the door. “Um,

okay, thank you. You don’t have to do anything for
me or report your whereabouts to me either, you
know?” I say with a raised brow as the door creaks
open so I can see his amazing dark eyes. He’s even
sexier in the dark hallway. He has his hands tucked
into dark jeans, and he’s wearing another plaid shirt
with the sleeves rolled up just to his elbow, a shy
grin on his face I can barely see.

“I also have clothes on, so you don’t have to

stare at the ground.”

I laugh, and so does he.
“Yeah, of course. I’m just trying to be helpful,”

he says with a shrug, looking up at me now. Our
eyes meet and lock, just like last night. “I know you
don’t know me, Lyla, but if you need me to pick
anything up for you or something, I’m happy to
help out. It sucks that all that happened to you.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not the guy that’s going to
say how it’s all going to be okay and offers you his
shoulder to cry on ’cause that’s not me, but if you
want Danny’s Burritos for dinner or ice cream from
Sally’s or some shit, I can do that.” He shrugs
again.

“Okay, cool. For the record, I don’t cry so don’t

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sweat it. That’s not me. That shit’s for pansies.” I
shrug, giving him back his same words. He’s still
staring, and I know I can’t stop, but I don’t know
what else to say. I lick my bottom lip, and his eyes
follow the movement. This makes me laugh. His
eyes quickly meet mine again, and he starts to take
a step backwards.

“So, number’s downstairs. I’ll see ya around.”

He says it like he can’t get away fast enough.

“See ya,” I practically yell down the stairs after

him. Damn, I wonder how bad my bedhead is right
now. Or my morning breath. Oh well, I shrug it off.
It’s for the best, I remind myself. If I can’t eat the
carrot, I really should try to stop thinking about it.
Even though I bet he tastes like maple syrup. I
laugh and roll my eyes at myself. Walking back to
my bed, I grab my phone from the charger and see
it’s almost noon. I swipe to unlock it and find
Charlie's name and type out a text.

Lyla: “Hey, boo, where are you?”
Charlie: “Why, work, of course. Where are

you?”

Lyla: “Oh, just lying in bed thinking about

you.”

Charlie: “Hahaha. I’m sorry you don’t have

anyone better to fantasize about.”

Lyla: “Oh, but I do. Daddy told me I can’t play

with him though.”

Charlie: “What?”

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Lyla: “I met Cole, my new roommate, last

night, and I got an insta-lady boner, but Marcus
put down his bossy foot and told us no, lol.”

Charlie: “OMG you finally found someone you

actually want and M said no? WTH? I don’t know
Cole very well, but Marcus speaks really highly of
him. I wonder why he’s saddling you with a chastity
belt when I know he likes him. I guess it wouldn’t
be a very good idea though since you don’t
commit, and you all live together now.”

Lyla: “Yeah, probably not. Especially since my

ass is all kinds of a hot mess right now.”

Charlie: “Well, I may not have a penis to offer

you, but please feel free to come and see me. It’s
been way too long.”

Lyla: “Are you at the studio?”
Charlie: “Yep. Currently in the record room.”
Lyla: “Your favorite room in the whole world.

Yeah, I know. ;) I’ll be there in 45. Want me to
bring you lunch?”

Charlie: “Sure! Taco Stan is out on his usual

perch. I’m sure he’d flip to see you. Might even
score lunch for free.”

Lyla: “Cool! Consider it done. See you soon.”
I close the message window and hurry to the

shower. Afterward, I find my new suitcase with all
the new “girly shit” Marcus bought me.
Remembering his excitement from our shopping
trip, I start to smile. It’s easier today for some

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reason.

I slip into a thin yellow dress with long sleeves

and a tie that wraps around my waist. It falls to
mid-thigh, and I grab a pair of white flats and put
them on. I apply a little makeup and grab my
phone, put it in my purse which I find by the door,
and head downstairs.

The house is completely quiet, and I wonder

which room is Cole’s. Which is stupid because I
don’t need to know that. I see his note and grab it
along with the key and head out into my
hometown. I just pray no one here knows what
happened in Chicago.

I’m greeted with the glorious California heat.

Oh, how I’ve missed it. The gorgeous blue sky is
almost cloudless. Seagulls fly toward the beach up
ahead, diving for French fries and taco scraps. The
walk will be too short to the boardwalk, and I’ll
have to Uber to the studio so I’m savoring every
minute.

Some of the Mission district buildings have

been remodeled into upscale diners and boutiques.
All it’s missing is a full-scale restaurant like
Warehouse 39, I think to myself, before I push it
back into the far corners of my mind. Never to be
thought again. I hope.

Passing the Ferris wheel, I find Stan and his

taco stand in the exact same spot I first saw him
when I was eight years old. A skinny, hungry little

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girl who was too scared to ask for a taco. He called
me out and fed me every day until I met Charlie
and Marcus. The old man is sporting a gut and gold
chains these days but doesn’t look a lot different
from that day almost twenty years ago.

“What’s up, Stan the man?” I say with the

biggest smile I can muster.

“Oh, holy hell, it’s Lyla Turner as I live and

breathe. You know I wake up every day hoping I
live long enough to see you again one day,” he says
as I come around the cart and wrap my arms
around his belly the best I can.

“It’s nice to see you too, old man,” I say with a

squeeze.

“What’s a guy got to do to get a hug like that?”

a deep familiar voice says behind me. I release
Stan, and we both turn and look. Cole, in all his
plaid and man bun glory, is standing in front of the
taco cart, smiling at me. This smile is different.
Playful and friendly without the heat of before.
Which is kind of disappointing.

“How you doin’, Cole?” Stan says and starts

pulling out tortilla shells and making Cole’s tacos,
knowing the man’s order by heart. That’s weird.

“This here is my girl, Lyla; she was raised on

my tacos and now she’s a famous city chef in
Chicago with her own fancy restaurant. Can you
believe that?” He points to me, beaming with pride.
“And the sweetheart still comes to see me of all

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people. How’d I get so lucky, darlin’?”

Stan hands Cole his tacos but looks at me,

smiling. I roll my eyes and smirk. My heart drops. I
have to correct him and tell him I’m not a chef
anymore. “Actually, Stan—”

“You are a lucky man. You must be so proud of

her. Beautiful and she cooks! That’s a lethal
combination,” Cole interrupts me and winks.

I roll my eyes back at him, and Stan hands me

two beef tacos. Just the way I like them. “Thank
you,” I say softly, smiling up at his rosy cheeks and
patting the old man’s belly a couple of times. I turn
to look at Cole, but he’s turned around and started
walking back across the street.

“Hey, Stan, I have to run, but I’m back home

for good so I’m going to come see you all the time
now,” I say, backing up and slowly rounding the
cart.

“Well, that’s great news. You just made my

whole year. Lyla!” he says loud enough so I can
hear as I walk away. I wave back and then turn to
cross the road. When I finally catch up to Cole, I’m
embarrassingly out of breath so I just hit his
shoulder, gasping for air and laughing at myself.

“You okay there?” Cole says, looking down at

me as I’m bent over trying to catch my breath.
Even without air I notice how hard and sculpted his
bicep is.

“Hey,” I finally spit out.

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“Hey,” he says, looking back at me, amused.
“Thanks for the save back there.” Jerking my

thumb over my shoulder toward the cart, I right
myself and fall in step beside him.

“Yeah, no problem.”
“I’ll tell him the truth tomorrow,” I say more to

myself than to him.

“Or next week or never. Your secret’s safe with

me.” He shrugs.

“Well, as much as I wish never was an option,

I’m sure news will travel, and I’ll have to face the
music eventually.”

“Lucky for you today is not that day.”
I just nod and look over at him. “You get lunch

there often?”

“Almost every day. No one makes fish tacos

like Stan, am I right?”

“You are right. He is the best. Always has

been.”

“Are you guys related? You seemed close, and

he’s clearly proud of you.”

I cringe and look over at him “It’s a long sappy

story, cool if I just say we go way back?”

“Sure,” he says with a surprised look on his

face.

“Cool. Thanks.”
“Mind if I ask you a question?” Cole asks.
“And here I thought I was getting out of it,” I

say, glancing at him and finding him staring at me

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with that sexy grin again.

“No, no, don’t get me wrong; I will never ask

you to explain personal shit. I promise,” he says,
laughing.

It’s a really good laugh; in fact, it’s such a nice

laugh I now need a dry pair of underwear. Since
when am I so awkward? With a blush I’m sure he
can see, I clear my throat. “Okay then, sure, what’s
the question?”

“How are you single? I mean, are you single?

You’re like a magic unicorn, both gorgeous and
doesn’t want to bitch my ear off. Not to mention
the fact you have legit things to complain about,
but you don’t, and you don’t want to.”

He shakes his head with a shocked look on his

face.

“You’re blowing my mind right now.”
He laughs and I join in. A big unladylike laugh.

I shrug, not sure what to say. “Yeah, I’m not a big
fan of sharing my feelings, but trust me I can bitch
with the best of them. Just don’t want to right now.
It doesn’t change anything. Maybe I’m in denial. I
think I’ll stay here for a while.” I smile over at him
when he glances my way.

“That’s super fucking sexy. Not that I’m

allowed to tell you that since Marcus firmly put his
foot down on any chance I might have had,” he
says with a wink. “So if he asks, I did not just call
you super fucking sexy.” He slows down the three

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words, blatantly looking straight into my eyes.

“You know, if I were girly, I would totally be

blushing right now,” I deadpan. “But like I said, I’m
not and your flattery does nothing for me,” I lie.

He laughs again, a big loud belly roll. “Okay,

okay. I’ll stop. The last thing I want to do is make
you uncomfortable now that we’re living together,”
he says calmly now, the last few words rolling off
his tongue like they taste bad.

“Wow. All I heard from that was how excited

you are to live with me,” I say, my voice dripping
with sarcasm.

He smirks. “Sorry. I honestly don’t have a good

track record living with women. It’s not your fault,
I know, but even the thought of it gives me hives.
All the more reason Marcus had a good point about
me keeping my hands to myself.”

His shoulders rise and fall. He doesn’t look at

me, and I wait a few minutes as we walk.

“Well, I agree. As unhappy as I might be about

it.” I blatantly look him up and down. “I don’t want
a relationship. Like ever, and I’m probably a typical
girl when it comes to having a messy bathroom, so I
guess, just be glad you don’t have to share with
me.”

I stick my elbow out and graze his ribs.
“Silver lining though, I can cook hella good

food so maybe my bad qualities as a roommate will
even out.”

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I throw out my cheesiest smile, showing as

many teeth as possible. He still doesn’t say
anything, but a giant smile stretches across his face
like I said something that was the exact answer to
his trivia question.

“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head, ripping

his gaze from mine.

“So we agree. We will not be enjoying any kind

of sex with each other,” I say in a low, sad voice.

Looking at his shoes, he doesn’t say anything

either, and I hope I’m right in saying he looked as
disappointed as I felt.

“Well, these tacos aren’t going to eat

themselves, and I totally forgot I promised Charlie
some. Which means I’ll need to get some for
Marcus too,” I say with more pep, hoping it doesn’t
get awkward.

“Okay. I have a meeting around the corner but

should be home around four.”

“Good for you.” I wink.
“Sorry, bad habit, one I promise to break as

soon as possible,” he says, looking embarrassed and
turns and walks backward until he reaches the
corner. “See you around, Lyla.”

“See ya.” I turn around with what I know is a

stupid fucking grin on my face and walk back to the
taco stand.

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5

LYLA

Twelve tacos are tucked in a big brown sack in my
arms. I push the lobby doors open to Studio 39 and
strut in with confidence I don’t really feel. Stepping
inside, the air conditioner welcomes me in a heavy
wave of freezing air that gives me insta-
goosebumps. Cold chills ripple up my arms as I
walk around the empty front desk and down the left
hallway where Marcus usually is. I find him alone,
slumped over a control panel, his eyes closed with
beats blaring, and I walk in and set our food down
on the low table in the corner surrounded by a
black couch and two matching leather chairs. I
don’t want to stop him, so I lay my purse down and
scoot out of the room to look around for Charlie.

The record room is down on the other side of

the building, but I find it easily. Pushing it open, I
immediately hear her voice singing a soft song. I

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recognize it as Lauryn Hills’ “Killing Me Softly.”
Her voice gets louder as I make my way through
the maze of record shelves. I’m a solid three
minutes into the labyrinth when the room opens
and sitting on a large high table is Charlie in her old
black faded Chevelle t-shirt, ripped jeans, and
signature cherry-red Chuck Taylors. Her curly
blond hair is full of volume and completely unruly
but beautiful. Her blue eyes shine bright behind her
black-framed glasses when she sees me, and she
yanks the big, Beats headphones off her ears.

Aaaaahhhhh! You’re finally home!” she

shouts, jumping down from the table and walking
fast into my open arms. We hug tight and for
probably too long, but it feels great. An embrace
that feels like home, like family. I feel my stupid
tears threatening to prickle my eyes and, I step
back.

“Don’t you dare make me cry,” I warn.
“Oh, I would never,” she teases dramatically.
“So, I realize this is a dumb question, but how

are you?”

“I’m alright. Been better, of course, but at least

I’m here and not in Chicago cooking my life away.”

“You are so right about that. Gorgeous weather,

beautiful people, and fantastic tacos. You should
have come back a long time ago.”

“I really think you’re right.” I shrug.
“Speaking of beautiful people, are you enjoying

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your new roommate? I gotta admit I am jealous of
that eye candy.”

“Yeah, Cole seems cool.”
“Seems cool?” She eyes me suspiciously. “Cole

is a cool guy, but I was talking about how
unbelievably good-looking he is,” she says in her
best Zoolander with her lips pooched out in duck
lips.

I burst out laughing, tears dotting my eyes. It’s

hard to breathe I’m laughing so hard and Charlie is
too.

“What’s going on in here?” A guy walks in from

around the corner.

“Hey, Mason,” she says, catching her breath.

“This is my girl, Lyla. Lyla, this is Mason, Marcus’
protégé.”

“Nice to meet you, Lyla,” he says, looking me

up and down.

He looks a lot like Marcus when he was

eighteen. Smooth dark skin, short cropped hair, a
golden-boy smile, and a body built to take more
than one woman at a time. I laugh and shake my
head, just remembering the way my best friend
used to behave before he met Grace and they had
Harmony. “Nice to meet you too, Mason.”

“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.

Everyone’s real happy to have you back.” He
makes a point to meet my eyes, then licks his lips
while rubbing his hands together.

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“Mason, I’m gay.”
He reels back surprised. “Really?”
I smile “No.” And I bat my eyelashes at him.
Luckily, he laughs—not every man would.

“Damn, baby, just tryin’ to know you. You’re a
beautiful woman, Lyla; you can’t blame me.” He
starts walking backwards to leave. “I’ll leave you
gorgeous ladies to continue on with your day, but I
came in to tell you, Charlie, that Marcus found a
new band he wants so he obviously needs your
approval. He said he’ll have a demo to you by
tonight, and if not please remind him. He has more
details.”

He shrugs and turns down into the rows of vinyl

records. I look over, and she’s already reaching for
her phone to check her email. “New band, that’s
exciting!”

“Why didn’t Marcus just tell me himself? I just

saw him.”

“Mason has a bad habit of annoying Marcus, so

he makes him a go-fer just to get rid of him
sometimes,” she says, staring down at her phone.
“He’s really not that bad. I would even dare say
he’s a good guy.” She raises a shoulder.

“Oh, would you, now? A good guy and hot too;

am I right?”

“Yes, he is, Lyla, and we are also not interested

in each other, but all the power to you, love,” she
counters with narrowed eyes.

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“Touché. But tell me this. Your lack of interest

has nothing to do with Wade, right?” I ask her very
cautiously, knowing this is a very touchy subject.

“No, it does not, Lyla. Wade can burn in hell.

Thanks so much for reminding me,” she says and
strides over to a shelf of records where I notice a
notebook with tiny stars all over it.

“I’m sorry, boo. I didn’t mean to bum you out. I

just needed to make sure. Let’s talk about
something else. Anything. Tell me something I
don’t know yet.”

“Um…”
“What is happening, my beautiful ladies? You

will never guess what just happened to me.”
Marcus strides in, cocky grin in place. “I was in the
production booth listening to a new track when all
of a sudden the smell of Stan’s tacos wafts through
the air, engulfing me in teenage memories. Any idea
how that happened?”

Charlie and I roll our eyes at his dramatic

entrance. “You’re welcome.” I wink.

We joke around, and it’s just like the old days

when we were kids, just hanging out in Marcus’
parents’ record store. The memories rush through
us, and hours go by without us even realizing it.
The sun starts to set, and the room fills with vibrant
oranges and pinks streaming in through the
windows and bouncing against the walls and
shelves. It’s beautiful and cozy, just how I feel

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surrounded by the love of my real family.

“Do you guys remember the first day we met?”

I ask my two favorite people on earth.

“Of course!” they both say in unison.
“That was a long-ass time ago. A couple

lifetimes it seems like now, looking back. Mom and
Dad’s record store was my least favorite place until
that day.” Marcus says.

“I still can’t believe you and I had never met

before then, Marcus. I was there every day,”
Charlie adds.

“At the time I never wanted to be there. I was

always out with friends. It was summer break—I
was seventeen I think—Dad said I had to work at
Record 39 starting that day, and I was pissed. The
last thing I wanted was to be stuck working with
my mom and dad instead of being at the beach,”
Marcus continues.

“I came in looking for a part-time job, and you

were overjoyed to train me,” I say, batting my eyes
and grinning at Marcus.

“Liar,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s funny how much we instantly hated each

other,” I say.

“Hate is a strong word, but I did not like you;

that’s for sure. Not until we met Charlie.”

Charlie laughs. “I was lying down up on an old

bookshelf in the back corner, and Marcus came
over and asked me what the fuck I was doing and

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scared me so bad I fell.” She air quotes because
Charlie has cursing rules. Mainly, she doesn’t
unless the situation calls for it, or so she says. Such
a classy bitch.

“Then I caught you as you fell into my arms.”

He winks and blows a kiss her way, and we all
laugh.

“Sad thing is that’s still the most romantic thing

that’s ever happened to me.” She pouts.

“Still better than me.” I laugh even though it’s

true. “I came running up behind you guys and
asked if everything was okay. You weren’t exactly
staring into each other’s eyes.”

“She hit me. Told me to never sneak up on her

like that again. I would have been mad since she
wasn't supposed to be climbing our bookshelf in the
first place,” he says, giving Charlie a goofy look
because she still sits on top of tables and shelves
and counters. She says it’s because she’s so short,
but the real reason is probably because at home she
was used to hiding, and it’s just become an old
habit.

“But I couldn’t be mad once I saw the t-shirt.

Vintage, ripped, and holey but beautiful Beatles
1966 t-shirt,” Marcus says, looking off into a daze,
remembering the t-shirt that brought us together
and sealed our friendship. “My mouth just dropped,
and I was speechless. I stared at your chest like a
horny teenage boy.”

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I laugh, thinking back to when I first met

Charlie and thought she had to be the coolest chick
in the world. Her style was effortless and vintage.
Mostly grunge but her crazy blond hair and freckles
gave her that princess look no matter what she
wore. Which she fucking hates.

“Yeah, you two weirdos freaked me out at first,

but then you made me feel so cool I had to invite
myself into your lives forever.” She shrugs, looking
smug.

“Well, damn. I’m glad I own this place, or I

would be fired. I better get back to work. I’ll see
you at home, Lyla. Charlie, I’ll go get you that
email I promised. I really want that band, so let’s do
whatever we need to get the ball rolling.”

He kisses us both on the cheek and exits with

all the trash from lunch. I’m so drained emotionally
and stuffed full of tacos I’m almost falling asleep so
Charlie orders me an Uber and I head home for a
long bath.

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6

COLE

Looking at the clock on the wall, I see it’s after one
in the morning. I can’t sleep. It’s been hours since
I’ve seen Lyla, and I haven’t stopped thinking
about her. Which is fucking insane to me. She came
home from the studio shortly after I got home. I
expected to joke around, to make sure things
weren’t awkward between us since we officially
took sex off the table, but she was really quiet. I
asked if she was hungry, but she said no. She joined
me on the couch, and we sat there, not talking for
hours. It was actually nice.

Still, I’ve had less than a handful of

conversations with her and already I know she’s
nothing like any other woman I’ve ever met. Sure
as shit the polar opposite of my ex, which only
makes me want to get to know her better. I don’t
even care if it’s at my own expense. She can bust

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my balls all day long if it means I get to hear that
sexy sweet voice of hers.

The way she called me out for telling her when

I’d be home only intensified my curiosity. Lyla
doesn’t seem to give much of a fuck about petty
shit like my overbearing ex-wife did; she’s real,
down-to-earth, easy to talk to, and the only thing
my cock will let me think about. Fuck.

Running my palms down my face, I continue to

stare up at the ceiling until I hear someone moving
around the house. It sounds like whispering. Maybe
Marcus is sneaking out a lady friend. I don’t want
to open the door to that. The sound doesn’t stop or
get louder, so I chance a peek and crack my door.
It’s coming from the kitchen and sounds more like
Lyla then Marcus which makes me smile even
though I really wish it didn’t.

Shaking my head, not thinking about it twice, I

quietly trek downstairs. I find her pulling out every
content of the refrigerator and pantry. My
eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. “And what are we
creating in here?” I say, scaring her.

She jumps five feet and spins around. Her hair’s

not straight like before; it’s in small tight curls, her
eyebrows are up, and her pointer finger is in her
mouth, sucking some food off it. My cock twitching
instantly in my sweatpants, all I want to do is pop
her finger out of her mouth and put it in mine. I am
in so much trouble.

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“Hey,” she says with a shy smile. “I hope I

didn’t wake you up.”

“You didn’t.”
“Cool.” She nods.
“So, what are you making?”
“I have no fucking clue, and I’m really not sure

why I bothered at this point.” She exhales a heavy
sigh, and I see a sad look in her eyes that I instantly
have the need to change.

“Yeah not a lot to work with I see.” I take in all

the different food options and notice the round
glass storage dish with the blue lid my little sister
brought over the other night.

“Well, you could make anything with this and

have a good night.” I hand her the dish, and her
eyes narrow skeptically.

“What is it?”
“Weed butter courtesy of Willow, my younger

sister.”

She instantly lights up, and I hand it to her with

a smile. She looks around the island and all its
contents and grabs the honey, the sugar, and a few
other things I missed as she turned and dove back
into the pantry. I laugh quietly at her excitement.
I’ve never had the butter before, but I have been
high so this should be interesting, especially with
her.

“Weird question but do you guys have a

casserole dish?”

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“I don’t even know what that is,” I say, hoping

for a laugh, a giggle, a smile, anything. I’m going to
have to work harder. She’s deep in the zone, not
looking at me, just moving around the kitchen in a
flurry. “Can I help?”

Shoving my hands in my pockets and rocking

back on my heels, I wait to be bossed around. What
the fuck? Why did I offer to help? I thought I was
trying to get along with this woman; now I’m just
saying stupid shit I don’t even mean to.

“Want to put on something to listen to? I have

an idea, and you might actually want to stay up for
this.”

Her smile spells trouble, and all my thoughts are

directly inappropriate.

“On second thought, that sounds way too

romantic. How about a movie? Or a basketball
game? I really don’t care as long as it’s not sappy
bullshit. It won’t take long to whip this up, and I
promise it will be delicious.”

Lyla wags her eyebrows at me with a sexy

smirk, I almost forgot she’s talking about food.
Clearing my throat with a sad excuse for a cough, I
step over and grab the remote from the coffee
table.

“Did you catch the fight tonight?”
“No, I don’t think I’ve ever watched any kind

of fight ever actually. Was it good?”

“I’ll put it on now. It’s fun to watch, especially

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when you’re really pissed off. Just imagine you’re
the one kicking someone’s ass, all while getting
high on your couch.”

“Sounds like my kind of sport.” She comes

around the couch and sits next to me, and the smell
of vanilla engulfs me. Her black curls bounce as she
tucks her legs under her.

“I like your hair like that,” I say unconsciously.
“Thanks. All natur-al,” she says, giving her

locks a bounce and shaking her head from side to
side. It’s so damn cute I have to look away before I
touch her. I find the match stored with all the other
recorded junk on the DVR. I explain the fighters
and their backgrounds a bit as the announcers try to
hype it up for viewers. The fighters both trash-talk
in interviews, but I fast-forward until we see the
MMA ring. Music blares and I casually peek over
at Lyla. She’s still not smiling, but I see a glimmer
in her eye that tells me she’s interested. The fight
starts and the fighters full-on attack each other. The
man set to win the match is the first one to the
ground but recovers quickly and knees the other
guy in ribs then comes up with a hook right to the
other’s face. The camera is angled perfect, and we
see blood splatter across the white floor of the ring.

Daaaaamn,” Lyla coos from beside me,

clearly entertained.

The match goes on and it’s brutal. At one-point

Lyla stands and cheers on the bloodbath. Rooting

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for the underdog, Caleb Holland, she screams for
blood and murder, and I think I should be scared
but can’t help laughing my ass off. He still loses the
first match but ends up the overall winner in the
end. She dances around and I can’t help but join
her. I have never enjoyed a match so much.

“You got some sweet moves there, Cole,” she

jokes with a flirty smile.

“Thanks,” I say, still laughing and dancing with

her. “My fist pumping skills have never let me
down.”

She laughs all the way to the kitchen. “Well, a

million years later, it’s done.”

The smell of pie fills the living room, and I walk

over to join her. Hopping on the leather bar stool, I
get a good look at what she made. “Is this a
casserole?”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “Kind of. Just try it.

It should be cooled off by now too; I took it out
fifteen minutes ago. Did I spot vanilla ice cream in
the freezer?”

“You did, and I like the way you think. I’ll grab

the plates.”

She plates it all in some fancy way. Even adding

some sort of sauce she made.

“This looks and smells amazing, Lyla. Thank

you.”

“You bet. I told you I came with benefits.” She

winks, and I wonder if she’s fucking with me.

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I wish I could repay her for the kindness. Show

her all the benefits I come with. Spread her sexy
tan legs out and taste her. I bet she tastes sweet like
honey.

Stop it. I shake my head, trying to clear the

image but it’s too late. When I look up, she’s
staring at me with the side of her lower lip between
her teeth. Our eyes are locked on each other; I
clench my jaw and adjust my cock, not bothering to
hide her effect on me. Her face breaks into a full
smile, and she looks down my body. I feel it like a
trail of fire warming me from the inside.

“What the hell are you two doing in here this

early in the morning?” Marcus grumbles, rubbing
his eyes.

“Just feeding your boy here. He showed me the

fine art of MMA fighting. I’m totally hooked now,
by the way.” She smiles over at me.

I’m in the same room as her lifelong best friend,

and I got that smile directed at me. Why that’s a big
deal I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this before. I
shouldn’t feel like this and really don’t even want
to, but it’s Lyla, not some clingy one-night stand—
not Whitney, this is Lyla. The definition of
different. As though he can read my thoughts,
Marcus clears his throat, directly looking at me. Did
he ask me something?

“What’s up?”
“Nothing. Whatever you two are doing, stop

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and go to bed.” He points between her body and
mine. “I was at the studio until one and I’m fucking
beat.” He turns and walks back to the hall and up
the stairs to his room, assuming I got the message.

“More for us,” Lyla whispers and hands me the

decorated dish.

“Wow, this looks too good to eat. You really are

some fancy chef, aren’t you?” I say, instantly
regretting my choice of words. I wince and look
over at her. She doesn’t say anything, just moves
the fork around the plate. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.
Why did I say that? What do I say now?

“Do you like it?” She answers with a counter

question.

Stuffing my mouth with the sugary goodness, I

just nod and shovel in more. She seems to relax and
takes a small bite from her fork and moans. Her
eyes fly open, and her head starts to bob up and
down in rhythm with mine. We stare at each other,
content with our mouths full and in complete
agreement that her desert is amazing.

“If nothing else, it’s good to know I can still

make edible food.”

“Delicious weed edibles to be exact,” I joke,

trying to steer us away from what I know she won’t
want to talk about.

“I guess you’re right,” she says, covering her

mouth with a bite still inside and giggling even
though I can tell she’s trying not to.

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When our plates are empty, I pick them both up

and round the island to stick them in the dishwasher
and look on the shelf at our drink choices.

“Want some whiskey?”
“Honey and whiskey?” She smiles like it’s the

best idea ever. “Hell yeah.”

I pour it and hand her a tumbler, then sit down

next to her with one of my own. “Do you feel
anything from the butter yet?” she asks after a few
sips.

“No.”
“Oh well, it was still fun.” She shrugs a

shoulder. “Thanks for tonight, Cole. I think I really
needed it.”

“Anytime.”
“I better head to bed. Lucky for me I have no

responsibilities tomorrow, so if I don’t come out in
the next couple of days, just know I’m in a better
place.” The laugh that follows her to the bottom of
the stairs is soft and sad.

“Hey, wait a second. Would you want to go to a

fight sometime? I think Caleb has one in San Diego
soon. It’s live, you might even get blood on you,” I
say, rushing to catch up with her on the staircase.

“Wow, really? Yeah, absolutely!” That got a

smile out of her, and I might actually be able to
sleep now.

“Cool. Good night.”
“Cool. Night, Cole.”

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Inside my room I shed my t-shirt. My body is

too hot, but I know it’s from her, not from the
temperature of the room. Falling onto my mattress,
I hope for sleep to finally take me. I have no idea
what time it is, but every minute hanging out with
her was worth it. I roll over on my side and think I
start to feel a little of her dessert’s effects. The
blankets feel extra soft. My mouth feels extra dry.
An image of her face comes to my mind. Her
bouncy curls, the blueberry sauce on her lower lip I
so badly wanted to lick off, the curve of her hips
and generous tits that beg to be in my mouth.

My hand starts moving down my chest and

lower, at the images running through my mind.

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7

COLE

Best. Night. Ever. My eyes open and I instantly
remember last night with a dumb-ass smile on my
face. I can’t help it. It’s not like it was the best lay I
ever had. I didn’t get laid, and my morning wood is
a stark reminder. No, it’s because of her.

The adorable curly hair that bounced when she

laughed. The way she lit up and started cheering at
the fight, the fight I showed her. Nah, this morning,
my raging hard on is all thanks to my overactive
imagination that went crazy last night with all the
possibilities that could have happened last night.

After an extra cold shower, I pad down the

hallway with an extra kick in my step. Downstairs,
I notice her right away sitting at the island. I say a
small prayer shit isn’t awkward and turn the corner
just in time to notice Marcus.

“Sup, man?”

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“Morning,” I reply, suddenly regretting my

choice to not wear a t-shirt.

“Good Morning, Cole.” Lyla’s sultry voice hits

my ears and travels straight to my cock. Fucking
woman is going to kill me. I had to stroke it twice
before I could fall asleep last night.

“Mornin’,” I say back, raising my chin but not

looking at her, knowing Marcus would know
something’s up by the guilt written all over my
face. I respect Marcus. Love him like a brother
even though we’ve only known each other the year
we’ve lived together. I want to listen when he
threatens my life to stay away from her. I do. Or I
did. I think I need to be psychiatrically evaluated.
Something is definitely wrong with me because all I
can think about is touching her.

“I was just telling Lyla we’re all having dinner

at Hamilton’s steak house tonight; be there around
six,” Marcus says, mentally pouring a bucket of
cold water over me. Family dinner night. My best
friend, his daughter Harmony who is the worlds
best little girl and means the world to me and the
reason our group of friends all get together once a
week. You know how they say it takes a village to
raise a child? We are her village and I need to
remember to keep it in my pants, so I don’t cause
any drama.

“Oh yeah, it’s Friday. Family dinner night. Also,

Harmony weekend, right?” I reply

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“Yep. I got Charlie and Mason covering the

studio through Tuesday, and I’m going to take the
world’s greatest daughter to Disneyland. We’ll be
back Monday night, but I’ll have to take Harmony
straight back to her mom. Sorry, Lyla, but we
planned this trip a year ago.”

“No worries. I’ll get to see her for dinner, right?

Does Grace stay and eat?” Lyla says and pouts her
lips to blow the steam rising from her coffee. So
fucking hot.
Does she even know she’s doing it?
Casually, I bend over the island all my attention on
Marcus and never look at her again.

“Yep. They’ll both be there. Cole calls it family

dinner night because it’s always all of us. As busy
as we all are, we always have dinner together at
least once a week. Usually we plan on Friday and
adjust it when needed.”

“Who is all? Who all comes to dinner?”
“This lumberjack here,” he says, slapping me

on the back. “His sister Willow, Harmony and
Grace of course, Charlie, Mason who works for the
studio, and me.”

“Cool. I’m really excited.” She says it with a

smile that looks fake, then looks down into her
mug.

She’s wearing a white robe with her crazy curls

on top of her head in a messy bun, no makeup on
her face, and her long legs propped up on the stool
beside me. She is so beautiful. I can smell her

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perfume—a vanilla mixed with brown sugar maybe.
My eyes pinch closed and I grit my teeth and
slowly exhale. This is fucking torture. I need to
leave; hell, I need to run as fast as I can in the
opposite direction of this woman. Instead of being
smart, I ask, “Hey, what’s with the face?”

“What face? This natural beauty?” She teases,

tapping her nose, which is fucking adorable.

Shaking my head, I tell her, “No, why’d you get

all sad when you said you’re excited about dinner?”

“I’m not sad. I said I was excited.” She starts

wiggling in her seat, uncomfortable with this
subject, so naturally I must push.

“You said excited; your face said misery.

Why?”

She looks at Marcus who’s filling up his travel

mug to my left and back to me again. “I just
realized how much I’ve been missing out on, being
in Chicago. Where there were never any awesome
family dinners.” She shrugs with a shy smile
ghosting her face.

“Well, that all changes now, babe.” Marcus

says, walking around me and wrapping his arms
around her neck. “I’ll see you guys tonight. Six
p.m. at Hamilton’s. Don’t be late.”

When he’s out the door, she turns to me.

“Thanks for calling me out, fucker.”

My eyes snap to hers, and I’m thankful she’s

smiling. “No problem. I knew you had feelings in

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there somewhere,” I joke, finally standing up now
that Marcus is gone.

She gasps in fake horror. “I do not!”
All I can do is laugh. “So, are you nervous

about dinner? Do you know Grace very well?”

“No, Grace is the best. I hate that her and

Marcus couldn’t make it work between them, but
I’m also very grateful that they still manage to co-
parent so damn well. I love Harmony and have
missed her like crazy. We FaceTime at least once a
week, but I can’t wait to get my hands around her.”

Her beaming smile tells me exactly how much

she loves that little girl. I can’t blame her. I’ve only
known her a year, and she won me over in the first
two minutes. Me, a dude who didn’t think he liked
kids at all. “She is definitely a badass three-year-
old.”

“You have a sister that lives here?”
“Yep, Willow. Little sister that constantly

worries me. She’s a free spirit.” I air quote and turn
to grab my own coffee.

I hear her slide down off the stool, and her

shoulder grazes my arm as she comes around to set
her empty mug in the sink. The touch is electric and
sends want through my entire body. I step up
behind her before I even know what I’m doing,
pressing myself as close as I can and pushing her
against the sink. She leans back into me, and I wrap
my arms around her small waist and bend down just

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enough for my lips to graze her ear.

“I can’t help myself anymore, Lyla. Do you

want to finish what you started last night?”

Grinding her ass back against my cock, she

whispers breathlessly, “I thought you’d never ask.”

She turns around in my arms, and I lift my

hands to the side of the sink, caging her in and
locking my gaze with hers. My mouth descends
slowly and when my lips taste hers, I feel it
throughout my entire body. I deepen the kiss and
breathe her in, enjoying the sound she makes. Her
hands trace my chest and slowly down my abs, then
suddenly she breaks the kiss and looks up at me.

“I’m really hungry this morning; do you mind if

I eat first?” she says as she sinks down to her
knees. Her dark and stormy green eyes staring up at
me full of greed, her tongue darts out and drags
across her top lip slowly, and the sexiest smile I’ve
ever seen shines from her face. Suddenly I feel like
my feet are made of concrete and I’m frozen in
front of her, watching her delicate hands come up
to my waistband and pull my sweatpants down. I
watch her eyes go wide and mouth open and shut
instantly. She drags her gaze up to my face, and I
give her my proudest smirk.

“Wow. Impressive,” she tells me nonchalantly,

but I can see the fear in her eyes. As I bend down
to pull her up, she stops me by grabbing my cock
with both hands, which causes me to catch the

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counter as my knees go weak. She begins to stroke
me up and down, and I lose all train of thought. I
watch her as she licks me base to tip, widening her
tongue and taking me in just enough to pop off like
I’m a damn lollipop. She continues the torture,
taking more and more of me until she’s got me all
the way down her throat. I growl at the insane
pleasure; I can’t believe how close I am, and before
I embarrass myself, I have to do something.

I notice the honey sitting on the counter and

think it would taste great all over her body, so I
grab it. Her eyes snap straight to mine when she
hears the pop of the plastic bear. She pulls off me
just in time for the honey to drip on her lips, down
her neck, and finally more drops onto her cleavage
that’s peeking through her robe. She licks up pre-
cum and honey, and I growl again. Lyla moans. She
pulls me out then in again, moaning and pushing me
straight to the edge.

“Fuck baby I’m coming!” I clamp my jaw as

she takes me deeper. I reach the cliff and fly off
like a cannon, coming so hard I almost lose my
balance. Her movements become slower as I come
down, but she works me until I’m completely spent.

Once I catch my breath, she pulls herself back

up my body and kisses my chin. The gesture is
sweet and contradicts her rough actions. My fingers
find the string to her robe, and I pull slowly,
savoring the way her body reveals itself to me like

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curtains parting for the eighth wonder of the world,
and I’m the lucky bastard who gets to witness it.

My hands run over her silk shoulders and the

robe falls to the floor. She looks up at me with so
much desire I feel it deep in my chest. A spark of
something I’ve never felt before. No one has ever
looked at me like that. My mouth instantly crashes
to hers, and our kiss is pure need, rough and
uncalculating. Her hands run up my bare chest,
over my shoulders, the back of my neck and into
my hair. I break the kiss only to taste my way down
her chin and neck, licking up honey and what can
only be Lyla, and it’s delicious. I lick her earlobe
and bite lightly, loving the sounds she makes for
me, then press one last kiss behind her ear before
moving lower, nipping a hot trail down her body.
My hands roam to cup her gorgeous tits and lick off
the rest of the honey. Lyla moans my name when I
suck her right nipple into my mouth and roll her left
between my fingers and then switch, sucking in her
left.

“Cole! Fuck, please!” she cries desperately.
Quickly, I pull up my sweatpants and lower to

my knees, place a kiss to her stomach, and then
gently bite her hip. A shiver runs through her whole
body, and she steadies herself with locks of my hair,
and I lick a hot trail down and reach up between
her legs. She widens her stance for me with a
wicked grin, and my mouth waters in anticipation.

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When my tongue makes contact, and I can taste

her wetness and it’s everything I’ve been dreaming
about. She does taste like fucking honey, and it
makes me delirious. My thumb runs along her slit,
and I flick her clit with my tongue over and over. I
watch her; she looks like a goddess above me, and
her sounds are a song pumping straight to my
throbbing cock that is already hard again. I work
my tongue against her and push a finger across her
entrance. Her back arches welcoming my finger, I
slide in and out in a steady rhythm until I hear the
magic words.

“Fuck yes, Cole!”
I push another finder inside her warmth and

start a faster pace, all while tasting her sweetness.
She pulls my hair and takes exactly what she wants,
and I love it. Her orgasm rips through her as she
screams my name. The site before me something
I’ll never forget, the most beautiful woman I’ve
ever seen come apart before my eyes.

“You taste so fucking good. I can’t help but

devour you.” I say looking up at her and rubbing up
her thighs as they slowly stop shaking.

“Holy wow Cole.” She looks tired and

speechless and I revel in the fact that I did that to
this bad ass woman. From what I’ve learned about
Lyla, she’s tough as nails and never makes herself
vulnerable, but for me, at least for this moment
she’s putty in my hands. I don’t take the

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responsibility lightly and while she seems like she
might faint I swoop her up into my arms and carry
her to her shower. I don’t usually stick around after
orgasm, but I remember at least one thing Marcus
said, she’s Lyla, she’s special. With that in mind I
get under the hot steam with her and slowly we
clean off all the dirty things we just did in the
kitchen. We don’t talk about it which I’m grateful
for because I honestly don’t know what I would
say. When we’re done, she lays down in her bed
and I go back to my room. It feels weird but it’s not
like I could stay.

I can’t get into a complicated relationship like

this; she lives in the same house. I just put myself
into my own worst-case scenario, and now I have
no idea how to navigate. All these thoughts clash
with the image of her naked body above me. I dress
quickly and get the fuck out of the apartment to
clear my head. It’s going to be a long day at work
but I need some air that doesn’t smell like her.

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8

LYLA

I nervously run my sweaty palms down the skirt of
my black dress and open the door to Hamilton's.
When I woke up I was surprised to be the only
person in the apartment. When Cole came onto me
in the kitchen, I couldn’t hold myself back
anymore. From the way he flirts with me and sets
my nervous on fire to the way he listens to me and
distracts me with things like MMA fights, Cole
seems to be the complete package. Which is why
I’m nervous right now. I know he doesn’t do
relationships and I don’t either, not to mention
Marcus wouldn’t be furious if he found out. So now
I have to socialize with all our friends and pretend
he didn’t give me the greatest orgasm of my life
then bail.

This doesn’t have to be a big deal. I remind

myself as I walk up to the hostess stand. Just play it

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cool like nothing happened. Cole’s hot as hell, and
the things he did to me will go down in spank bank
history, but nothing is between us so I just need to
be cool.

All of that is true and I could probably be really

good at casual sex, but I just don’t usually get past
the date with a guy. Or past the being asked out on
a date part, but I could really see myself liking
Cole.

This is uncomfortable new territory and I say a

small prayer for courage as the hostess leads me to
a back of the restaurant. The doors open into a
small room with just a long dining table. The back
wall is floor-to-ceiling windows and overlooks the
beautiful ocean sunset. I’m almost pushed over as a
tiny Harmony runs straight into me and wraps her
arms around my legs in a death grip.

“Harmony!” I laugh and look up to see Grace

and Marcus. By the looks on both their faces, I
assume I interrupted something. Grace quickly
smooths her features and scoots her chair back,
coming around the table with a smile and her arms
open. “Hey, Lyla, it’s so good to have you back
home. You look great!”

“Thank you, Grace!” I say with a huge smile

because I feel good about being home, considering
what a mess my life is at the moment. “It’s good to
be back, and it is so good to see you.”

“And me, right, Aunt Lyla,” Harmony says still

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attached.

“Especially you my love,” I tell her, bending

down to take her in a big hug.

“Okay, you gotta let me go now; I have more

friends coming,” Harmony says matter-of-factly
and pushes me away.

“Well, excuse me, but I’m way overdue on my

Harmony hugs quota; you get right back here.”

She squeals and runs around behind Marcus’

chair.

“She’s only three and doesn’t want to hang all

over me anymore. What happened, Grace?”

“She’s growing up fast and full of sass,” she

says softly and shrugs.

“She’s even more beautiful than she was the

last time I saw her. You must be so proud. She’s in
preschool now, too, right?”

“Thank you, yes and yes. She’s doing great.

Excelling in everything put in front of her like a
tiny little genius. We are all really proud of her.
This is her village, and I’m not going to take all the
credit for her awesomeness. Marcus is the best dad
ever. Charlie comes to the house for dinner
sometimes and hangs out or babysits if Marcus
can’t watch her some nights. Willow does too.
Cole’s sister, have you met yet?”

“Have I met Willow yet? No, but I’m so glad

everything is going well for you.”

We take our seats with Marcus and Harmony at

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the table, and the doors fly open. Charlie enters
along with Mason and a girl who must be Willow. I
look at my watch and notice it’s six exactly and
wonder if Cole is going to show up. If he doesn’t, I
know it’ll hurt Harmony and it’ll be all my fault and
Marcus will kill me, not that I’ll ever forgive
myself. I was so stupid; of course it was a bad idea
to sleep with him. He’s more involved in my
family’s life than I am. What have I done?

“Heyyy. Earth to Lyla.” Charlie bops me on my

nose, interrupting my inner downward spiral.

“Hey, how are you? Sorry, got lost in thoughts

for a second.” I try sounding casual but don’t pull it
off.

“You okay?” she whispers in my ear as she hugs

me to her skinny little body.

“Of course, why in the world wouldn’t I be?

Look at all I’ve got,” I say with a genuine smile as I
pull Harmony off Charlie's legs and lift her up.

“Hey, no fair.” Charlie whines.
The entire room is laughing at me tickling

Harmony when Cole pushes into the room. I
instantly know things are going to be awkward by
the look on his face when he sees me holding her.
He runs a hand over his beard and puts on a fake
smile. I hate that he looks so handsome in a dark
ivy-green polo and dark jeans, his hair up in
another messy bun as he walks around the room
saying hi to everyone. Everyone joins us around the

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table, and Grace introduces me to Willow.

Cole ends up in the seat directly across from

me, making my body instantly too hot, my dress too
tight, and I forget how to breathe. When our eyes
meet, we stare at each other for a long minute, until
he tears his eyes away and looks down at his water
like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

This is my hell. My greatest nightmare comes

true. I am a cliché, a whore just like my mother.
Fuck Howard ruining my life, this hurts way more.
Looking down at my lap, I swallow hard; my mouth
is so dry. I reach for my water, trying to calm the
fuck down. Fuck Cole. Fuck this awful feeling.
Fuck my life
. I gulp down half my water.

“Lyla? You there?” I hear through the fog of my

panic attack. Everyone is staring at me.

“What? I’m sorry?”
“What is with you today?” Charlie asks, tilting

her head with a look of worry.

“Nothing,” I say and down the rest of my water.

The waitress interrupts and saves me from further
embarrassment and takes all our orders. My sweet
Harmony comes and sits on my lap and lays out a
coloring page and hands me a red crayon. If I didn’t
already love her with my entire heart, it would all
be hers after that.

“I love you, kid,” I say as she looks up at me.
“Love you too, lady.”
“Lady?” I say, tilting my face back in mock

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horror, looking at her like she’s crazy. “Who is
lady? I am not lady; I am your proud Aunt Lyla.”

Tickling her sides, Harmony wiggles on my lap

and laughs. “You win! You win, Aunt Lyla.”

“Thank you.” My smile is smug, and I hear

Cole laugh but don’t look at him. Harmony sits
back over by her parents, and I remember I need to
ignore Cole, at least until I figure out how to deal
without losing my shit. The doors open, and the
room fills with the most delicious smells. I can
smell each individual dish, and as my eyes drift
closed, I can practically taste every spice used, and
I know I could recreate every plate identically. In a
past life I did. As my steak is placed in front of me,
I stare down and mentally calculate the average
gross and net cost of the meat and slowly make a
mental recipe for later.

“Would you like any steak sauce?”
“What?” I can feel Cole staring at the side of

my face as I look up at the waitress. “I’m sorry, no
I don’t need any sauce. Thank you.”

Somehow, I manage to keep my eyes down and

not look at him. Everyone around the table is in a
conversation but me. I’m finally here, and I’m still
letting a man run my life. Fuck that.

“Excuse me,” I say to the waitress right before

she hits the door. “Could I please have some
honey?”

As soon as the last word is out of my mouth I

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hear and feel Cole spit out his water. He coughs
and hits the table with his hand. His face is beet
red. And I smile triumphantly. If he wants to be
weird, I’ll make it as awkward as possible for him.
Cole continues to beat his chest and cough while
the entire room stares at him. It takes a massive
amount of willpower not to laugh my ass off at the
look he’s shooting me. I cover my mouth with the
napkin as though I’m just wiping my mouth, right
before Marcus follows his gaze to me. As he stares
at me I right myself, and no one is the wiser.
Feeling like I have the upper hand back, I dig into
my dinner.

“I really think she’s going to bring a lot of

personality to the label.” I hear Marcus say a short
time later.

“She has over two million followers on her

YouTube channel,” Charlie adds.

“I got to hear this,” Grace says as she pulls out

her phone. “What’s her name?”

“Keke Simone.”
“Wow, she’s pretty,” Grace says, looking at

Marcus who doesn’t look at her. She pushes play
on one of the videos and the hip-hop music fills the
small dining room. I sneak a glance to Cole, but
he’s looking down at his plate. The music continues
and a woman starts rapping so fast I can’t help but
lean over to Grace to see her for myself. She is
pretty and dominates the screen in a video she

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clearly made, but it’s badass. She’s flawless in
speech, and the lyrics give me goosebumps, and I
have to rub my hands up and down my arms for
friction. When the song ends, I dramatically look at
Marcus with my jaw on the floor.

“Dude. Girl’s got talent. She’s really signing.

When? Can I meet her?” I laugh.

“Yes, she’s really signing. She flies in next

week, and she will be moving here from Colorado
next month,” Marcus says proudly.

“We’re stoked,” Mason says from the other end

of the table.

I notice Charlie staring at me and give her a

shrug, hoping she’ll drop any suspicion she might
have. The last thing I want is to pull her into any
Marcus/Cole drama that I might have created.

“She’ll be a game changer. I’ll definitely be

telling everyone I know about her. Maybe help her
get more followers,” Grace says.

“Who is everyone? I thought everyone you

knew is right here,” Marcus teases Grace.

“Very funny but I do actually have other

friends, Marcus.”

“No one believes you, Grace.” He stares at her

with a big grin until she playfully rubs her hand
over his face, pushing him back a just a little. We
all laugh. More at the way they joke with each
other than the crack on Grace.

“The food in this place was delicious, Marcus.

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Thank you,” I tell him honestly.

“You bet. Although I know for a fact yours

would have been better,” he says and winks.

I know I should feel good about what he said,

but I just feel the opposite. Dread fills me as I wait
for all the questions from the new people in the
group that don’t know I was a chef. Everyone who
does know, also knows I’m not anymore and really
don’t have any hope to be again. I take in a deep
breath.

“Are you a good cook?” It’s Cole’s sister

Willow who starts.

“I like to think so,” I say, hoping to deflect.
“That’s cool. Maybe you wouldn’t mind hosting

a family dinner one week. We could have it on your
roof if my brother would ever finish fixing it up.”
Willow glares at Cole until he starts nodding in
agreement. He hasn’t said much to anyone tonight,
and I hope that’s normal, but by the look on his
sister’s face, I’m going to guess it’s not.

“That would be so cool, Coco. Please will you

do it?” Harmony says, hugging his arm and using
her big brown eyes as a superpower to bend him to
her will.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, taking her

hand and helping her climb onto his lap. “Do you
want dessert?” he whispers to her, so softly I think
I’m the only one that heard. She nods her head,
excited.

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“What do you say, Lyla?” Willow asks.
“Actually, I think Marcus is just being nice. I

don’t cook anymore. I actually just found this
delivery service that delivers these five-star
dinners, lunches, even breakfast right to your door.
Custom-made meals prepped for you. That’s what
I’m investing in,” I say, looking down at my plate,
avoiding everyone’s eyes boring into me.

It feels like an hour passes by the time Willow

talks again.

“You still have to finish the rooftop,” she says,

pointing her fork at her brother.

Harmony says something to Mason, and

everyone else starts different conversations. The
staff comes in and clears our plates. We all decline
dessert, so Cole promises Harmony dessert from
the ice cream truck down the road. I can’t help but
notice how great he is with her. They share more
whispers and an inside joke of some kind and she’s
laughing, completely at ease with him. A spark of
jealousy hits me square in the chest, and I’m left
feeling like maybe Cole has been my replacement.
That maybe my family hasn’t missed me because
Cole has been here instead of me.

That’s not true. No way.
No one can ever compete with what Charlie,

Marcus, and I have been through together. What
secrets we keep. No way had the last six years I’ve
been gone changed anything between us. Everyone

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starts to get up from their seats, and we all walk out
together. I give everyone a quick wave and give
Harmony a big hug and kiss, saying good night. I
want to beat Cole home and not deal with my
problems. Soak in a bath and pretend he doesn’t
exist.

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9

COLE

“Okay, I give up! Can we say whatever it is that
needs said so it’s not so fucking weird between us,
and I don’t have to keep avoiding you, who’s
avoiding me?” Lyla asks me with her arms up in the
air in surrender, and I can’t help but laugh. She’s
right. I’ve been avoiding her for the last two days
like a fucking pussy. If I’m being honest with
myself which I’m not, I don’t want to avoid her. I
want her
.

I want her so bad I can almost taste her, but that

scares the shit out of me. The last thing I want is to
find myself in a relationship again. Lyla is cool as
fuck, but here I am already fucking it up. She’s way
too good for me.

“I’m sorry, Lyla. You’re right. I have. I freaked

out.”

She gives me a weird look with her eyebrows

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up and exhales a heavy sigh. “I’m not even mad
anymore, Cole. You don’t owe me anything; you
never did. I want that to be very clear. We tried our
best not to hook up, but we did. It happened and
now we still live with each other and we live with
Marcus who will still kill us if he finds out. Now
he’s coming back tomorrow and shit around here
can’t be weird.”

“You’re right. I hear you. I’ll stop being weird. I

promise.”

“Cool. That would be great.”
We stand there between the kitchen and living

room, just staring at each other a minute. “That was
actually a lot easier than I thought,” she says with a
growing smile. Mine can’t help but match hers and
soon I’m smiling too. Her hair is down and straight
again, and I already miss the curls.

“Are you hitting the gym?” I ask, noticing her

tight sexy outfit, which gives me an excuse to be
roaming her amazing curves. She’s in tight black
yoga pants and a lavender top that has her tits
pushed together and peeking out the top.

“Yeah, I heard about a new yoga studio opening

up down the block and thought I would check it
out. They have a help wanted sign up.” She shrugs
her small shoulder.

“You want to change careers from a chef to a

yogi? Is that what you call them? I’ll be honest I
know nothing about yoga.”

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She laughs. “I will be honest too; I don’t

either.” She winces and laughs again. Light pink
dusts her cheeks. “I just read somewhere online
that some studios don’t do a background check
which is the only way for me to get a job right now,
and that’s really embarrassing.” She looks down at
her shoes and sweeps some of her fallen hair
behind her ear.

“You want a job? I thought you were just

waiting for all the drama to calm down. I figured
you would go back to the food industry,” I say in
total shock.

“No, you see the thing about public humiliation

is that it survives long past the original scandal,”
she says, saddling up on the stool at the kitchen
island and I join her. “Even when the drama calms
down, which will only happen if my former
business partner Howard is ever found, my name,
my brand, my talent is all tainted, and no restaurant
will ever hire me again. My dream of being a top
chef was lived and it’s over. Right now, I have to
pull up my big girl pants and figure out my future.”

“It’s probably not yoga though.” I elbow her

ribs, shaking her out of the seriousness of her
thoughts. That gets me a giggle.

“You’re probably right, but I need a job. I can’t

live off Marcus; it’s driving me nuts.”

“Why don’t you come work for me?” Did I just

say that? Not second-guessing myself, I go on. “I

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just got in three new jobs that are going to have me
underwater if I don’t hire someone to help me. I
heard about your illegal activities, but I’ll be willing
to look the other way since we’re such good friends
now.”

I get up and round the table, putting my water

glass in the sink. I turn around and lean against it.
Seeing her in this kitchen again has me tasting
honey. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly so dry.
Maybe I should have thought the offer through
before throwing it out there. I’m not sure I can be
just friends with her.

“Were such good friends now, huh?” she says,

her voice skeptical. I know she needs this, so I have
to make it work.

“Yeah. It’s perfect. Good pay. I’ll teach you

everything you need to know. Plus, I know you can
bring a lot to the big warehouse project I have over
on 8th and Market since you’ve already converted
one warehouse into a five-star restaurant before.”

She still doesn’t look convinced, but she’s

smiling. I’ve got a chance.

“I promise to be on my best behavior, to never

make you feel uncomfortable or avoid you and be a
friend to you whenever you need me.” I give her
my best smile and puppy dog eyes and wait.

“Okay. Okay.” She laughs. “I feel like you just

tricked me into accepting your help, but I
appreciate it. Thank you.”

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“You bet. We could start tomorrow morning if

you want. I don’t have an office except the one
here, but I’ll take you around and show you the
different sites and different crews I have running
right now. I have tons of meeting this week, mostly
with existing clients so we’ll take them to lunch and
let you meet everyone and start building
relationships.”

“That all sounds great, but, Cole, do you really

want my name associated with your business? It’s
one thing for me to help with paperwork; it’s
another for me to be meeting your clients. I really
want to help in any way, but I don’t want me
helping you to actually hurt your business.”

She looks at me with so much sadness it

threatens to crush me. I don’t understand how this
amazing woman could be more worried about me
right now.

“It’s not going to hurt me, Lyla. That’s really

nice of you to say all that, but I have work lined up
for the next five years. It’s going to be fine. Great
in fact because I know everyone will love you and
you will be an asset to me. What do you say?”

I stare at her waiting for several beats.
“I say thank you and I’ll be ready in morning.”

Scooting off the bar stool, she continues. “Although
I will see you before then so remember…no
weird.” She winks.

I can’t help but laugh. “Promise.”

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She grabs her bag, throwing it over her

shoulder, and takes off out the door. I stare at it like
she’ll walk right back in. What is wrong with me? I
chastise myself, pushing off the island and heading
for a shower.

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10

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LYLA

“And reach your fingertips up to the ceiling,
stretching your upper body as high as it will go.
Pause. Now bring them down to your toes, as close
as you can reach. Now relax. Very good.”

The yoga instructor announced wrapping up

class. I watch everyone grab their mats, and I bend
down and grab mine and head back for my bag. I
pick up my phone and see I’ve missed three calls
from a number I don’t know and a text from
Charlie. It’s a picture of her holding up a vintage
Beatles album. Nice.

“Hi there.”
A man I recognize from class is bent down

grabbing his bag beside mine. He’s very attractive.
Tall, tan, dark-brown hair, blue eyes, and defined
biceps I can clearly see under his white t-shirt.

“Hey,” I say casually, putting my shoes on.

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“Do you come here often? You look really

familiar to me.”

“No. This was my first class. I actually just

moved to the area.”

“Well, then you’ll need someone to show you

around. I’m Darren Henry.” He grins and says this
to me like I should swoon at his name alone which
is an even bigger turnoff than the fact he regularly
goes to yoga class.

“Thanks anyway, Darren Henry, but I think I’ll

manage just fine.” I brush him off and turn to head
toward the exit, and I feel him follow me.

“You never told me your name,” he says,

opening the door for me.

“Thank you. I know I didn’t.” I smile and walk

past him, but he keeps following me.

“Let me take you to dinner.”
“No, thanks, I’m not hungry.”
“But you will be eventually. Say around eight

tonight? I can get us reservations at Mazzini’s.”

He name-drops to try and impress me. It’s the

highest in fine dining in the area and will cost a
small fortune if I agree to go, but I won’t. I can’t be
seen in a place like that without someone
recognizing me, and then I’ll be all over the local
papers and embarrassed all over again.

“That’s very generous, Darren, but I have other

plans.”

“Plans can be canceled. Trust me when I say I

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will make it worth your while.”

The grin he gives me sets off warning bells and

suddenly I’m uncomfortable. I’ve heard dirtier
words, but something about this guy is off and I
need to get away from him.

“No, thank you,” I say, glaring at him. No smile

on my face to lead him to believe anything other
than I am not interested. He scoffs and throws his
hand up like he’s dismissing me.

“Fine. Your loss, ya stuck up bitch.”
He slowly backs up with a snarl on his mouth. A

small laugh escapes, which pisses him off more, but
he just retreats faster. When he rounds the corner
and is out of sight, I turn and exhale. I start walking
when my phone rings again. It’s the same number I
missed three times during class. Afraid it might be
important, I answer.

“Hello.”
“Hello, and who am I speaking with?” An

elderly man’s voice comes on with a heavy accent.

“Well, sir, you called me.” I laugh. “My name is

Lyla; I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh no, Lyla Turner, you are exactly who I

want to get my hands on.” Creepy, I think to
myself.

“Well, here I am; how can I help you, sir?” I

say, holding my arm out for a cab.

“You can give me back my money along with

the body of your partner. That would be best-case

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scenario for you, Ms. Turner.”

I stop walking toward the curb, frozen in shock

by the change in this man’s tone and threatening
words. “I really think you have the wrong person,”
I whisper.

“Lyla, this is a gentle warning. I’m not a patient

man. Where is Howard Stapleton?”

“I haven’t heard from Howard since he

bankrupted our restaurant. I have nothing to do
with him. As far as I’m concerned, he’ll soon be
rotting in prison when the police catch up with
him.”

“Hmm. Unfortunately, he has more than the

police to worry about. I don’t believe you aren’t in
touch with him so I will be keeping my eye on you.
Take care for now.”

I end the call and climb in the cab. After a few

minutes, I roll my eyes, thinking that was the
weirdest call ever but not my problem. The man
sounded ancient for one, and for two, I genuinely
don’t have anything to do with Howard so if he
screwed someone else over too, it’s not my
problem.

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11

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COLE

Bright and early Monday morning Lyla comes
bouncing down the hall and into my home office.
It’s only six a.m. and I’m not showered. I am just
checking emails in my sweats. She comes in hips
swaying, with two mugs of coffee, already dressed
for work in a skintight skirt that ends right below
her knee and makes that apple ass of hers
incredibly destructing. This was not my best idea.

“Good morning,” Lyla chirps.
“Mornin’. You do realize we don’t actually start

work until nine, right?” I ask her, accepting the hot
mug of steaming coffee.

“Yes. but I was excited, and I might be a bit of

an overachiever.” She shrugs and brings her own
coffee to her lips, looking out the office window as
the sun continues to rise. It’s a great view of the
beach and the main reason I bought the building.

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“I just emailed you a link to my calendar, and

we have a lunch meeting with a client at one
today.”

“Okay. I’ll go get my phone. Breakfast will be

done in fifteen minutes.”

“You made me breakfast too? Damn, woman,

you’ve outdone yourself. I’ll follow you down,” I
say as we head downstairs together.

Calling it breakfast doesn’t do it justice. Lyla

went all out in only a way she can. The island is
covered in a feast of healthy fresh food and two
plates set up with glasses of orange juice.

“Wow, I am impressed, Lyla. This all looks and

smells delicious.”

“Thanks. Hope you like egg white omelets

stuffed with swiss cheese, fried ham, mushrooms,
red and green peppers, plus fresh fruit, buckwheat
pancakes with bananas, and a secret maple cream
sauce.”

A smug grin stretches across her face when she

sees the utter look of shock on my face. I’m
beyond impressed right now. She shrugs and sips
her coffee, looking away so I don’t notice the blush
on her cheeks. I do. It’s beautiful.

She sets her coffee mug down at the same time

I reach for mine and the backs of our hands touch
on the table. Instant heat rushes up my arm and I
know she feels it too. Her eyes snap to mine; her
green eyes are dark, and her chest starts to rise and

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fall faster. I’m frozen in her spell, not wanting to
move and break this bubble we’re in. My eyes snap
to her lips when she bites her bottom lip into her
mouth. After a minute passes and our attraction has
only grown stronger, I can feel myself leaning
toward her, like a magnetic pull. She leans into me
and we meet; her lips are soft and warm against
mine. I kiss her softly and slowly, not being able to
control this anymore. Not that I want to be
anywhere else in the world right now. She feels
amazing against me, and her lips taste like
marshmallows. I cup her face to bring her closer,
wanting to breathe her in; she smells like honey,
and instantly I remember being inside her. We
break apart. I am not sure which one of us pulled
away first, but I regret it already. My cock is hard
and waving a tent under the island table. She looks
down and sees how much she affects me. I smile
and turn back to my omelet and dig in. I feel her
hard stare on the side of my face, but she turns
toward her breakfast. We finish eating in silence.
Not uncomfortable but in an atmosphere still
charged with unfilled desires.

“ J

ACK

, this is Lyla Turner, Lyla this is Jack the

site’s foreman.” I introduce the team to Lyla and

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show her the plans for all my projects including an
old warehouse that I’ve been hired to remodel into
a retail space. I can tell she’s excited about this one
because she lights up.

“Cole, what about keeping the inside mostly

exposed and bare? Letting all the pipes and beams
show and painting them bold colors.”

“You think we should paint them? Not keep

them neutral to blend into the ceiling?”

“No, because I was thinking we should do

something different to make this warehouse stand
out as a retail space and not look like a lot of
restaurants and other buildings that keep it neutral.
But that’s just my thoughts; what do you think?”

It hits me in this moment how smart and

talented Lyla is. The more I learn about her the
more I like. I know it’s dangerous, but I think I
want her. No, scratch that, I know I want her. We
haven’t talked about the kiss at breakfast, but
things between us aren’t weird or uncomfortable.
It’s been the opposite. I’ve laughed more today
than I have all week. And it’s not just me. Lyla
bewitched every single colleague, client, and
crewman she’s met today.

“I think that’s a great idea,” I say honestly.
“Cool.”
She tucks her dark hair behind her ear and

looks away with a blush at my compliment. Which
makes me feel ten fucking feet tall. A king among

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men. I’m actually thankful I’m in a public place
with her right now or I would probably snap and
take her right here. I’ve lost sleep every night since
I last had her, and now, I’m addicted and can’t stop
thinking about having her again and again. I know
we agreed and made a sort of truce to be friends, so
it doesn’t get weird, but we need to draw up a new
agreement because I’m going absolutely insane
with want for her at this point.

“This is the perfect location for the client, and I

love that they want to keep the building,
remodeling and not tearing it down. Most retailers
would.”

Her voice breaks through my daydream and I

blink rapidly, trying to focus. “Yeah, the clients are
a really cool couple from upstate New York. You’ll
like them; they’ll be in town next week to go over
design and budget. They’ve already given me a
large deposit so I know the budget won’t ever
become an issue, and I’ve worked with them before
so I assume if everything goes well, we’ll get to
work with them again in the future.”

“Great. I look forward to it. Have you come up

with any designs yet?”

“I have but I don’t like any of them. I’ll show

them to you, but I’d really love your help coming
up with a few different concepts.”

“Yes, of course, I can do that. I don’t know if

you’ll like any, but I can come up with a few

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different looks.”

“Great. I’ll email you the original blueprints and

the pictures I’ve taken.” We step out of the
warehouse and wave to the crew. Jack nods
goodbye with his cell phone against his ear.

I open the passenger door for Lyla and help her

into my truck. It’s a bit of a jump for her and
difficult in her tight skirt and heels, but it’s been my
absolute pleasure helping her in and out all day. I
try to be a gentleman about it when she falls back
into my arms. I grab her waist with both hands and
easily place her on the truck seat. With a cocky grin
I reach across her and buckle her seat belt too.
Clicking it forces me so close to her I hear her
breath catch. I drag my eyes from the belt up to her
chest and neck and chin and lips, and landlock on
her gaze. Her face is so close it wouldn’t take much
to lean in and touch those amazing lips with mine.
After a long moment I remember we are still on a
job site, and the last thing she needs is attention
from these assholes.

I want to get her out of here. Spend time just

the two of us. Talk about that fucking ridiculous
idea of being just friends. I slowly pull away,
dragging my hand across her thigh on my way, then
I walk slowly around the back, trying to get ahold
of myself to drive us home.

The ride back is comfortable and filled with her

telling me all her ideas for the different sites and I

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find myself in awe. She’s brilliant and I agree with
everything, I hadn’t thought about a couple of her
ideas that I think will be real game changers for my
company brand. She goes on and on with so much
excitement I can’t help but hang on her every
word. We talk shop all the way home and well into
night.

For dinner she made steak with roasted carrots

in some kind of fancy sauce that was mind-blowing.
Marcus just walked in and sat down with a plate,
looking exhausted.

“Long day, buddy?” she asks him

sympathetically.

“Sure feels like it, but I’m actually home for

dinner so I guess it was an early day per norm,” he
tells her, rubbing his hands down his face then
taking a bite. He starts making moaning noises and
nodding his head energetically. “Lyla, this is
amazing. Thank you for dinner. You’re a way better
roommate than Cole.”

I spit out a loud laugh. Shaking my head, I stand

and gather my plate and grab hers and take them to
the dishwasher. I clean up the kitchen while they
talk, and when I’ve put the last of the leftover
containers away, Lyla comes up behind me.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much. You didn’t

have to do this; I would have.”

“I don’t mind. You didn’t have to make all that

amazing food or let me eat any of it, but you did so

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this is the least I can do.”

“Hey, anytime. I think I’m starting to like

cooking again. It used to rule my life, and I wasn’t
so sure for a while there if I would ever enjoy it
again, but lately it’s been fun,” she says with a
pointed smile. I see something in her eyes, but it’s
gone too fast to figure it out. She turns and grabs
the whiskey, looking back over her shoulder at me.
“Care to join us for a drink?”

Her smile is revealing. She’s thinking about the

last time we drank whiskey together and now so am
I. I can see the fire burning, her eyes darkening,
and all I can do is nod and follow her. I adjust
myself before Marcus can notice, and Lyla pours us
all a drink and we celebrate our new
“friendships”—her words not mine—for hours.
Half the bottle of whiskey later, the three of us
have overshared drunken college stories, and I was
blessed with embarrassing moments of teenage
Marcus and Lyla and even learned a little more
about Charlie since they all grew up together. All in
all it’s been a great night. We finally waddle up to
our bedrooms and collapse into bed. I know that’s
exactly what I did, my California king never feeling
so inviting. Feeling drunk, I thought sleep would
come easy, but I toss and turn.

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12

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LYLA

My head and body are fuzzy as I toss and turn in
bed. My senses feel more dulled and the walls of
my room are spinning. My comforter is super soft,
like I’m engulfed in a fluffy cloud. I can smell the
old paper from my book that’s on my side table,
which is because it’s really old and smells bad and
not because I’m drunk.

My clothes feel too tight and my skin buzzes

with electricity. I take off my pink t-shirt and black
yoga pants, feeling gloriously naked and light. I
laugh quietly, not wanting to wake anyone else up,
but I can’t help all the giggles from coming out. I’m
getting louder and grab the pillow from behind me
and scoot further under the blankets.

Finally, I get ahold of myself and catch my

breath. I’m still really wired from the day and late
night with Cole. He constantly surprises me with his

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easygoing personality. In my line of work, the men
I’ve met are all really uptight and bossy. They don’t
ask, they tell. It’s so nice to feel like someone
actually cares what I have to say and respects when
I don’t want to talk about other things.

Not to mention the fact that Cole might be a

living, breathing sex god. The man drips charm, and
the way he proudly adjusted his dick in front of me
had me about to lose my shit. If Marcus wouldn’t
have been there, I would have climbed the man like
a tree and begged him to get inside me. Damn, Lyla,
get your head right.
Without another thought I
throw back the comforter, pull open the small
drawer, and pull out my battery-operated
boyfriend, better known as BOB. The only other
man I’ve had in the last four years, which is sad.

For now, I’m going to ride Cole in my wildest

dreams. Clicking it on, I move the vibrator down
between my breasts and over my navel. It quickly
finds my clit, and I throw the blankets back over
my head, wanting to block out everything except
Cole's handsome face and strong body. His broad
shoulders would be perfect to hold on to. His chest,
I know for a fact, is just as impressive, but it’s the
very large bulge in his pants and the way he was
looking at me that has me so hot and bothered.

I’m panting at the thought of him between my

legs, and I’m so close to the edge I don’t notice
someone opened the door until the light in the room

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changes. My eyes snap open. The big white
comforter is being pulled down to the tops of my
breasts, and I gasp and fumble to stop the vibrator.
My eyes meet Cole’s; holy shit, he’s sitting on the
bed beside me, smiling, and I continue blindly
looking for the off switch to my very loud BOB,
failing and turning beet red. It shoots out my hand,
and I’m about to start yelling at him to get the hell
out when he says, “I heard my name.”

Bending over to grab the vibrator, Cole hands it

back to me, completely calm like this is somehow
normal. Both my hands cover my face in
embarrassment. I’m breathing so hard, my
heartbeat going a million miles a minute, and I
don’t even take the toy from him. I’m so mortified I
don’t know what to say. Before I can even start to
make excuses, I hear a loud buzzing and risk a peek
through open fingers. Cole turned it back on and is
looking at me like he’s waiting on an invitation to
pussy town. Nothing but an eager smile on his face.
I search his eyes, hoping to find the answer to this
crazy visit but not for too long because I want this
more than I want to breathe right now.

Without giving him any words in response to his

comment, I slowly move all my blankets from his
side to the other side of the bed and let them fall
off. His dark-brown eyes drink me in, and he
inhales a big gust of air and lets it out slowly. He
doesn’t say anything although I can tell he wants

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to. Instead, he moves the vibrator that’s in his hand
to my inner thigh. He drags it between my closed
legs slowly. My eyes are glued to his face, watching
his dark expression as it moves over my most
intimate places.

I want to see him, watch him touch me. My

back starts to arch as he nears my core. He bends
down closer and whispers in a deep husky voice,
“Open your legs for me.”

I don’t say anything, just open for him slowly,

goosebumps erupting all over the surface of my
skin, my body feeling higher, lighter, when
suddenly he slides it across my slit, the vibrations
meeting my clit, and my mouth drops open with a
moan, and my heavy eyes flutter closed. It feels so
good. So much better than pretending it’s him, to
really have him here making me feel like this has
me bucking into his hand. I grind against the
vibrator shamelessly and bring my hands around
my breasts, squeezing them together, hoping to give
him a show. When I pry my eyes open, I’m in luck.
He moved between my legs and is watching me and
working the toy better than I ever did. A second
later he turns it and pushes the long pulsing toy
inside me, and I gasp, my back leaving the bed and
my eyes slamming shut in pleasure.

“I’m. So. Close,” I beg.
He pushes harder and faster, pumping in and

out until I’m coming apart. Twinkling stars blur my

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vision as the orgasm rips through me like a
hurricane. My body jerks, and my legs shake in
uncontrollable spasms. I’m in total bliss and
breathing hard.

My heartbeat is the only thing I can hear, and

then suddenly I feel the bottom of the bed move. I
watch Cole back up off the bed slowly, smiling like
he’s become shy all the sudden. He stands and
stares down at me in all my naked, sheet-soaked
glory and licks his lips. He’s only in his black
sweatpants, baring his chiseled abs and broad chest.
I lick my lips, nowhere near ready to be done with
him. I swallow hard and sit up, then crawl over to
the edge of the bed closest to him, but he backs up
a few steps. I slant my head to the side and look at
him with the question in my eyes, afraid real words
will break this spell that were in.

“I better go before your dad kills me,” he

whispers and jams a thumb toward my bedroom
door and takes slow, deliberate steps backwards,
still staring at me with a huge grin on his face. I
watch his eyes bob from my chest to my face
several times before he opens the door and slips
out.

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13

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LYLA

My first week of working with Cole went by fast.
It’s been fun and challenging, and he makes it
exciting. We made an agreement to just be friends,
but it doesn’t feel like we’re just friends. Friends
don’t steal touches when no one is looking. Friends
don’t hold hands. Friends don’t kiss, and friends
don’t sneak into each other’s room and help them
masturbate.

We are both fighting it but still can’t help but

touch each other. Every day is becoming harder
and harder. The lightest touch from the man can
light my entire body on fire and soak my panties.
I’ve started keeping an extra pair in my purse
because I’ve been spending almost every minute
with him and by lunchtime, I’m soaked to the point
I’m afraid I’ll leave a spot on a chair. I’m so twisted
up about him I find myself trying to stay busy and

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active, anything to sweat and release all this pent-
up aggression and frustration out. It’s Saturday
morning and I’m running along the beach. It’s early,
the sun still coming up over the horizon so no one
else is around right now. The small beach is clean
and near our house. It feels good to say that. Our
house. I made my first paycheck and gave it
directly to Marcus, which made me feel great until I
found it in my purse on my way here. Sneaky man.

Our rag tag team of misfits are all going out to a

big-ass MMA fight tonight, all thanks to Cole. He
got tickets for everyone and secured a VIP section
which for this fight that is going to be televised,
could not have been cheap. I’m hella nervous and
excited. Nervous because I need to control my
crazy attraction to my roommate who is also my
boss and the only source of income I can get right
now. Not to mention our mutual bestie Marcus who
wouldn’t be happy to see us sneaking around. Why
can’t I help it? After this week, I’ll be honest, I
don’t want to. I want Cole. I want him so bad I can
barely sleep at night knowing he’s in the room next
door to mine. Once I thought I heard him moan
through the wall. Even if he didn’t, I imagined he
did and even put my water glass up against it, trying
to hear him better. Wishing it was me making him
sound like that.

Fully aroused again just at the thought, I step

harder and run faster. The sand is slightly wet and

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packed and makes this run easier; sweat trickles
down my back and my cleavage. I should have
worn a big t-shirt instead of just this sports bra that
is feeling way too tight right now.

Seagulls fly above and scatter around, pecking

at the sand and rushing in toward incoming waves
until I run up on them and they take flight again. I
finally made it out here to my favorite little beach
at sunrise. I came here for my runs every morning
before I moved. I love it here. Looking back on the
last six years, I feel like I wasted it all. I worked
every day and would have worked myself to death
if it wasn’t for the disaster Howard caused. Before
I have a chance to let my mind spiral down that
rabbit hole, my phone rings in my small pants
pocket. Lululemon makes awesome leggings.

I slow down to a fast walk, pulling it out but

don’t recognize the Chicago number, so I send it to
voicemail. Taking deep breaths to calm down, I
slow my pace even more and enjoy the rising
sunshine that warms my face and walk the rest of
the way back to Cole’s truck he let me borrow
since he’s sleeping in. What I wouldn’t give to be in
that bed with him right now. My phone rings again
before I have the key in the ignition. Same number.
Strange. They didn’t leave a message. Well, they
can because I don’t even want to think about
Chicago right now.

Truck started, I hit the red reject button,

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sending the caller to voicemail, and head toward
home. Eggs Benedict, bacon, and fruit salad are
waiting when Cole comes downstairs, along with a
pot of coffee. I sit at the island, sketching a few
ideas for the warehouse and when I look up, I’m
rewarded with his bare backside in all its muscular
glory. Gray sweatpants sit low on his waist, and his
ass looks so fucking good I have to catch my moan
before it makes a sound.

His long dusty-brown hair is down around his

shoulders, and I just want to grab a handful and
direct his face between my legs. Fuck. This is
getting harder. Much like my lady boner. He turns
around slowly, or maybe I’m just seeing him in sexy
slow-mo. Like Baywatch but with Cole and coffee
and his sexy hair down and messy and that beard
that still reaches my dreams with how good it feels
on my body.

“Ready for tonight?”
“Hmm, what?” I say, blinking several times.

Keep your fucking cool, Lyla.

“Were you just checking me out, Lyla?”
“What? Of course not.” I blush. Damn it. His

smile is beaming, and I can feel myself blushing
harder.

“Really? ’Cause it looked like your eyes were

taking in a show.”

“Oh my gosh, please don’t say gun show.

Really, Cole.”

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I bust out laughing, forgetting all about the

earlier embarrassment which is not a new thing
around this man. His laughter mingles with mine
and soon Marcus and Harmony come bounding
down the stairs and join us.

We all eat and talk about the week we had, and

Harmony is bouncing with excitement. “Hey,
kiddo, what’s got you so excited this morning?”
Cole asks.

“I’m just so happy to see Grandma and

Grandpa!” she exclaims in an almost scream.

“Wow, really, your mom and dad are coming

back to town, Marcus?” I ask, meeting her
excitement. He laughs at us girls being so extra.

“Yeah, they’ll be here tonight. They plan to set

up at the RV park just down the beach. I offered to
put them up at the Hilton or Marriott, but of course
Mom said she enjoyed her little home.” He air
quotes the last part.

“That’s awesome. I can’t wait to see her. They

always came by to see me when driving through
Chicago, but I was always working and could only
say hi and feed them. It still feels like years since
I’ve actually been able to sit down and talk to Ms.
Nora.”

“Well, you’ll get to. Harmony is having a

sleepover with her tonight, but I was thinking a
brunch with everyone at Hamilton’s tomorrow,
maybe around eleven.”

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“Awesome, I’m in. And I can pay for myself for

a change ’cause boss man here paid me, and you
won’t take my hard-earned money.”

I jab a thumb at Cole, but I’m facing Marcus at

the kitchen island. He gives me a guilty smile and
picks Harmony up off the stool and sets her down.
“Let’s go upstairs and brush teeth, then we’ll grab
your backpack and the dolls you want to take, and
we’ll go to the beach for a while. How’s that
sound?”

“Um, great.” I say, looking down at her. She

laughs and runs upstairs, and Marcus follows
behind but turns around at the bottom of the steps.

“What time are we going to the fight?”
“If you want to meet here, I scheduled a car to

pick us up at seven. I can make it earlier if we want
to grab a bite to eat or meet us there before nine.
You’ve got a ticket under your name and someone
will show you to our section I’m sure.”

“Okay, man. I’ll let you know for sure after I

hear from my mom. Thanks again,” he says over his
shoulder as he walks upstairs.

“I’m fucking stoked for the fight tonight. Plus,

the fancy car so I can get shit-faced like a baller in
VIP.”

I hold my arms out like a field goal and pump it

up to the ceiling, making Cole roll in laughter. It’s
by far my favorite thing to do these days.

“Holy shit. Should I also hire security to babysit

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you? Make sure you don’t get too crazy?”

“Crazy is fun, Cole; don’t spoil my fun, join

me,” I say, wagging my brows.

“Aaand what type of fun are we talking about

here, Lyla?” he says in a whisper while leaning in
close to my face, and instantly it raises my
temperature.

“The good kind of course. The only kind I

know,” I whisper back, and my eyes drop to his lips
when he pulls in his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Alright, we are out of here,” Marcus

announces, sending my back rail-straight and
causing my eyes to bug out. Cole, of course, laughs.
The two make their way down and Harmony gives
her backpack to her dad who helps her put it on.
It’s so cute to watch them together. He did her hair
today in tight pigtail buns, but her hair is so much
softer than his, so she already has a few flyaway
strands that slipped out. She looks adorable as
always, bouncing on her toes in her Moana bathing
suit. They both hug me goodbye, and Cole picks
her up in a bear hug and swings her around.

“Have a great day with your pops today,

sweetheart.”

“Come with us, buddy.”
Cole chuckles and sets her down. “I can’t

today, but maybe next time. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Love you, byeeee.” She shrugs and

heads out the door with Marcus.

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I turn back toward my sketchpad and make a

note to myself to pick up samples from Janice who
I’ve been emailing with about the warehouse retail
space. We meet the owners, Sam and Elliott—yes,
they also happen to be fans of the famous actor
cowboy we all love—this week, and I know I’m
going to love them.

We talked a lot this week on Skype so they

could show me what their style was like, and it’s
bright and beautiful and perfect for San Diego.
They told me they started small in mom-and-pop-
owned resort boutiques and are expanding to
beaches all over the world, offering the most high-
end resort and beachwear for the entire family,
small dog accessories included. I can feel Cole
come up behind me, but I don’t say anything.

I’m working on my fifth sketch for my

presentation, but I’m not sure if it will make the cut
or not. The inescapable scent of Cole fills the air
around me. It’s something woodsy and clean, like
sexy lumberjack meets exotic waterfall.

“Is this for the retail warehouse?” He looks

down over my right shoulder, and his face is so
close to mine I can almost feel his beard against my
cheek. White-hot heat is radiating from him and
surrounding me.

“Yeah,” is all I’m able to breathe out. Lost in

my lustful thoughts I clear my throat and hand him
my sketchbook, then bend forward to grab my

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coffee mug.

“This is great too. The guys are gonna have a

hard time deciding. Did they send those color
samples yet, or are they just going to bring them at
this point?”

“They’re bringing samples and a lot of different

things, but I still need to get the floor samples
before our meeting Monday. Which is going to be
where, by the way? I’m sure they’ll want to see the
site, but they also need to show us a lot of fabric,
and we don’t even have a chair on site yet.”

“Umm. That is a really great question and is one

of many reasons I keep you around.” He winks and
takes the seat next to me and pulls his phone out of
his pocket.

“No problem.” I giggle. Giggle like a stupid

schoolgirl. Who the hell have I become? How can
one man have more power over my body than I do?
It’s absolutely infuriating, but I have zero control.
“I’m out. Gonna shower and all that jazz.”

I shake my hands as I walk away, fanning away

all the dirty images I’m creating and taking deep
breaths of non-Cole-smelling air so I can breathe
and think at the same time.

Heading up the stairs, I mentally start prepping

myself for tonight. It’s going to be epic and I’m
going to look and feel the same, so I have to go
shopping. Upstairs I grab my cell phone from the
charger by my bed and text Charlie.

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Lyla: “What are you doing right now? Besides

listening to music or writing it.”

Charlie: “Um, confused emoji?”
Lyla: “Did you just type out an emoji,

Charlie?”

Charlie: “I couldn’t find one that really

captured the state of my emotion. Lol.”

Lyla: “Okay, dude, come shopping with me.”
Charlie: “I don’t really care for shopping.

You’ve seen my wardrobe and as much as I love
you, I would rather jump into a volcano
overflowing with lava and fire sharks than
surround myself with people and ugly overpriced
merchandise.”

Lyla: “Eye roll emoji. Babe, just come help me

find a dress for tonight. I need someone who will
be honest when something looks terrible on me.”

Charlie: “Make Cole take you.”
Lyla: “No! It’s hard enough for me to keep my

hands to myself. I can’t be modeling sexy dresses
for him. I’m bound to end up straddling him just
for smiling at me. I’m a fucking mess around that
man, Charlie. You have no idea.”

Charlie: “What? Since when does Lyla the self-

proclaimed man crusher become a mess about a
man? I’m in total and complete shock right now.”

Lyla: “Me fucking too!”
Charlie: “Well, what does this mean? You

actually like a guy for the first time in what…

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forever? Literally the first in your life Lyla, and
you’re not going to do anything about it but
complain to me about how much you like him? I
know you’re stubborn but that’s all new level, even
for you.”

Lyla: “Things are complicated; you know that.

He’s my roommate, my boss, and my best friend’s
best friend who will kill us if he finds out.”

Charlie: “If he finds out what exactly?”
Lyla: “Um. I’m going to get an Uber and come

pick you up. You are going to help me find a dress
for tonight.”

Charlie: “Only if you tell me everything.”
Lyla: “Fine.”

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14

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COLE

Looking at myself in the mirror, I rub some beard
oil down my face, spray some cologne, and twist up
my hair. Working with Lyla this week has felt like
long and tortuous foreplay. We’ve been riding this
cliff, wanting each other so badly, but knowing it’s
against the rules. It feels exciting but it also feels
right.

Walking back out to my room, I toss on my

tailored black suit jacket over my black collared
button-down and shrug it up over my shoulders. It’s
Fight Night and I feel like a million bucks. I went
all out too. VIP for Lyla’s first live fight. It’s kinda
become our thing. Every night after work, she’ll
make some over-the-top amazing dinner, and we’ll
sit down and watch a fight.

I don’t think we are exactly the friends we said

we would be, but we also can’t be anything more so

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tonight is my way of showing her more the only
way I can. Checking my phone, I see our driver is
five minutes away. I open my bedroom door and
head downstairs, shouting, “Five minutes on our
ride!”

At the bottom of the stairs, I’m awestruck at the

sight of Lyla. My mouth goes dry and my heart
starts raging. My dick hardens instantly and who
the hell knows what my face looks like. I have no
idea what I’m feeling other than feeling like the
luckiest man alive to have this gorgeous woman for
the night. And she will be mine tonight; there is no
way I’m going to be able to control myself
anymore. Tonight feels heavy with possibilities, but
the problem is we invited all our complications with
us. Maybe Marcus will go home with someone
tonight and we’ll have the house to ourselves.

“Hey” Her voice is so low it’s almost a whisper,

like she doesn’t want to pop our bubble. By the
look on her face, she’s just as affected by me.

“You look absolutely stunning, Lyla,” I say

honestly and watch her cheeks turn pink. How can
one woman be so adorable and sexy at the same
time?

“Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”
I start walking toward her, and her eyes widen

and her chest rises and falls faster and faster the
closer I get. I reach her and bring her hand up to
my mouth and kiss her fingers. Her beautiful green

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eyes are looking right through me. Like she sees
exactly who I am and wants all of it.

Our gaze is locked as I let her hand drop. She

starts to lean up to kiss me when we hear the front
door being unlocked. She turns and runs both hands
through her hair, walking toward the door. She
looks back over her shoulder. “Ready to head
down?”

“Yep. Right behind you.”
Marcus opens the door before we reach it and is

already dressed so we all head down to the limo
parked in front of our house. It’s a stretch Hummer
because Lyla made a joke when she saw her
favorite fighter was leaving a fight in one and she
called him a pansy. A pretentious pansy to be exact,
but she always roots for Caleb; he’s always been
her favorite. He won the first fight we watched
together and is truly a badass motherfucker. I can’t
wait to surprise her; I’m practically bouncing on my
toes like Harmony. The driver holds the door open,
and I help her in. When I sit down beside her, she
leans in.

“Very funny.”
“Thought you’d like it.” I wink.
Marcus joins us inside the cab and pops a bottle

of champagne. We pick up Charlie, Mason, and
Willow, and cheers to great times with great friends.
I barely hear anything other than the sound of
Lyla’s voice and laughter.

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I press my leg against hers and she smiles, never

taking her eyes off Willow, who’s telling her all
about the tattoo parlor she works at. I try to push
my arm up again her as sly as I can, but Marcus
claps me on the other leg, scaring the shit out of
me, and I physically jump. Lyla finds this hilarious
but tries her best to stifle her reaction which seems
to bring a small tear to her eye. I give her a look I
hope spells out I will remember this, and I ease
away from her slowly, sitting straighter as Marcus
explains to me a few ins and outs of fatherhood.
Fucking awkward.

The fight is being held in a large convention

center with a five-star restaurant and hotel and is
surrounded by strip malls. Lyla actually got us all
reservations even though they are booked for the
year. I don’t think her reputation is as ruined as she
fears. Anyone who meets her knows the
kindhearted, incredibly strong, and talented woman
she is. No way anyone really believes she had
anything to do with anything illegal.

The place is fancy as fuck. Two-story ceilings

with giant white columns throughout the restaurant
with white sheer drapes hanging from above and
sectioning off outer tables. We follow the hostess
and I can’t help but want to hold Lyla’s hand, give
her my elbow, or anything at all just to touch her.
Suddenly it hits me. I planned this date and it’s not
a fucking date; it’s with the entire group because

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Lyla isn’t mine. We’re just friends, I have to remind
myself. This was a fucking terrible idea; I don’t
want to share her, especially not wearing that tight
red dress that hugs all her curves like a second skin.
I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut,
trying to pull my shit together before I throw her
over my shoulder and run away with her like the
caveman she makes me feel like.

We are seated at a huge table in the back that

offers more privacy than the rest of the restaurant. I
pull out a chair for Lyla, and she beams her
beautiful smile at me in thanks. I was so distracted
by it, Willow and Charlie snagged the two seats
beside her so I round the table to sit with Marcus
and Mason. The waiter comes and takes our orders
and halfway through our meal the chef, in all white,
comes out to meet Lyla. He looks young but tired.
Dark circles under his eyes almost match his black
hair, and he greets the table and shakes all our
hands, introducing himself as Travis Grumble from
Chicago. He takes both of Lyla’s hands in his, and I
have a knee-jerk reaction to remove his arms from
his body.

“I am so honored to have you here this evening,

Ms. Turner. I hope your dinner was up to your high
standards.”

“It is amazing, Mr. Grumble, thank you for the

opportunity.”

“Oh, please call me Travis. I’ve looked up to

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you since school where Dominic Sanata still raves
about his favorite student. Not to mention I ate at
your Warehouse 39 as often as financially possible
when I lived in Chicago.”

I notice her smile is fake and she’s fidgeting

with the napkin, uncomfortable.

“I was so sorry to hear about it closing; it was

my favorite place to eat by far. What happened?
Are you opening here?” he says with an optimist
smile and seems to light up at the possibility.

“No, I’ve decided to retire actually, but thank

you so much for your kind praise, Travis. It means
a lot coming from someone as talented as yourself.”

His face falls into a deep frown at her words.

His bushy brows pull down in confusion, and he
looks around the table at the rest of the group,
looking for an explanation maybe.

“Thank you again for the reservation. This meal

was fantastic,” I say, hoping he’ll leave. The
beaming smile Lyla had all night is gone, and I need
it back.

“It was truly my pleasure. If you will allow me,

I would love to make a special dessert just for your
party, Ms. Turner?”

“That isn’t necessary but enthusiastically

appreciated.”

“Consider it done.” He says goodbye to all of

us and leaves.

“Did you sell your restaurant to move here?”

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Willow asks innocently, and pure dread washes
over Lyla’s face, leaving her pale. I’ve got to do
something; that fake smile is killing me. There is no
way I’m not doing anything now.

I go to grab my napkin and knock over my red

wine. It spills all over the table and Lyla, Willow,
and I stand and start throwing napkins at it. A
waiter rushes over, and I chance a glance at Lyla.
Our eyes meet and she smiles genuinely for the first
time since the pubescent chef came over and shit
on her happiness. Dumb fucker. I give her a wink
and watch her shoulders relax. The rest of the meal
went smooth.

In the last few weeks, Lyla told me all about

Howard and the cutthroat restaurant industry and
how miserable she didn’t realize she was. It’s
strange how much I can relate to her misery.
Instead of the food industry, I was stuck in a
terrible marriage, not realizing just how bad it was.

The dessert comes on a literal silver platter and

is an elaborate display of chocolate mousse and
fruit. It’s as good as the meal, and we all seem to
fall quiet as we devour it.

Marcus slaps my back and I notice everyone

getting up to leave. The fight awaits and I couldn’t
be more excited.

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15

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COLE

We walk through the elaborate convention center
to the main arena. I catch up to Lyla and Charlie
and guide everyone to a side door down a long
hallway. Two big guards stop us, and I show my
VIP pass on my phone. They nod and both of them
open the doors and we are hit with the sounds of
Pantera’s “Walk.” I watch Lyla’s face light up like
Christmas as she takes everything in.

Both her and Charlie take my arms, and we

walk in to meet a blond hostess who waves her
hand to guide us to our section. The three of us sit
on a black leather couch, and our little group
spreads out, grabbing drinks from a small bar and
ordering different things from a waitress. The place
is so loud and the perfect excuse to get close to
Lyla. I lean into her and put my lips to her ear,
placing a quick kiss on her lobe, and then I ask her

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if she likes it so far. She shivers and when I lean
back to see her, she smiles a lust-filled smile and
nods. I go back in, moving her hair away with my
nose just to feel her and say, “Just wait.”

Leaning back, I give her a look that conveys all

the dirty things I want to do to her and I’m not
holding back anymore. Her eyes go wide, and she
licks her cherry-stained lip and bites down on the
bottom lip in a sweet grin. The sight gets me semi
hard already and we just got here. I laugh internally
and visibly swallow hard. She notices and looks to
my lap, her grin stretching wide across her face.

The song changes and Charlie leans into me,

sending me shooting back against the couch. She
leans across me to say something to Lyla. Charlie
stands up, and Lyla leans into me.

“We are going to find the ladies’ room. Be right

back,” she says right up against my ear, doing
nothing to help my growing dick, but I’m happy I
chose to wear my hair down when she places a wet
kiss right behind my ear and my eyes close without
my control.

After a deep breath, I watch the girls leave, and

I decide to head over to the bar for a drink. The
fight is going strong and the arena is a madhouse.
Cheers boom from thousands of fans as Caleb pins
his opponent to the ground. The guy tries to buck
him off like a damn bull, but Caleb’s impressive
strength keeps him glued to him. The dude even

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stands up, and Caleb stays put around his waist and
bends back and flips the guy headfirst onto the mat.
The ref and announcer have a field day stopping
the fight. Both fighters break and sit back in their
corners for a few. When they go at it again, it is
hands down Caleb’s fight, and everyone knows it.
Lyla is suddenly back at my side and screams
something but it’s impossible to understand. Her
excitement is worth every penny I paid for tonight.
The fight is over and Caleb is our reigning king,
which will make tonight that much better.

I take her hand to get her attention and bury my

face in her hair and eventually find her ear. She
giggles before I say, “There’s more. Come with
me.” She nods and I tell Marcus and the others to
follow. I keep her hand in mine, not giving a single
fuck at this point what anyone thinks. I lead them
back out to the hall, and one of the guards helps
guide us to a locked door. He scans a key card and
opens the door for us. We walk for what seems like
miles, and he scans us through another two doors
before we reach a back door with a red star. The
guard asks us to step back, and Lyla pulls on my
arm with a thousand questions in her eyes, which I
ignore and lead her through the door. As soon as
we’re inside, we join a small group of people all
talking about the fight. A few guys in front of me
part and I see our boy. I pull Lyla and her face is
priceless, complete shock and wide eyes and never

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more beautiful. Yep, totally worth it.

I grab a bottle of Black Label scotch from a

table and walk up to the man of the hour.

“Ah, you must be Cole.” Caleb stands and

greets us. I put down the bottle and shake the man’s
hand, honestly not expecting the warm welcome.

“It’s nice to meet you. Great fight as always.”
“Thanks, mate. I appreciate it. That fucker was

too easy though, not as much fun.”

He winks at Lyla and suddenly I’m less of a

fan. She shakes his hand with a smile, and he asks
us to join his table and introduces us to his wife and
I can relax again. Our group easily mixes in with his
entourage, and we all enjoy a glass of whiskey and
listen to everything he says like the fans we are.
Charlie comes over and pulls Lyla away and
internally I’m working on a speech in hopes Lyla
wants me as much as I want her, even if everything
is complicated.

“Eh, mate, that your bird?” Caleb asks, pulling

me out of my thoughts and pointing to Lyla whose
face is as red as her dress. Something’s wrong. I
jump up and hurry past a few people, weaving
between tables and chairs, my eyes locked on her.
She’s yelling at someone, but I can’t make out her
words or who she’s yelling at. There are too many
people in my way, and I can feel my blood boil. I
start to shove my way through the crowd, losing
sight of her for a second. When I reach her, Charlie

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and Marcus are pulling her toward the door, and my
girl is fighting them tooth and nail, legs kicking. I
hurry to scoop her up, throwing her over my
shoulder, and head out the door. People behind us
are screaming, and I can’t hear anything else until
the doors close, and then it’s almost completely
silent. Nodding to the guards they open the door
and lead us down the hall. Muffled music from the
arena drifts around us, and I can feel Lyla relax but
she’s still breathing heavy. No one says anything
until we step outside for the limo. I pull my phone
out to text the driver, holding Lyla firmly on my
shoulder. She wiggles, trying to get down, but I still
her with a sharp slap to her ass, not thinking.

“What the fuck, Cole. Put her down.” Fuck,

Marcus saw it. I gently set her down and back up to
look at her. Her eyes are pinned to mine, her eyes
screaming her anger.

“What happened?” I say gently. She grits her

teeth and closes her eyes tight. When she looks at
me again, I see a flash of embarrassment, and she
turns toward the parking lot. “Lyla!”

She keeps walking, but I follow quickly behind,

running in front of her.

“Do I need to go back in there and murder

someone? Because I will. I have no fucking idea
what’s going on other than you’re clearly pissed
off.”

She finally stops but won’t look at me. Arms

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crossed over her chest, looking fierce and ready to
brawl again.

“Just tell me and I’ll take care of it,” I gently

whisper, closing the distance between us. When she
finally looks at me, I can see a ghost of smile that
wants to cross her face. So of course, I push. “Baby
if anyone hurt you, I will fucking destroy them, but
you have to tell me who.”

She steps closer to me and looks up, and a

glorious smile breaks across her face in a wicked
grin. “There was a dumbass fucker back there who
grabbed my ass, so I punched him in the face and
drove my knee into what I assume is a sorry excuse
for a dick.”

The smile falls with her words, but her

shoulders lose the tension, and I place my hands on
them.

“That’s so fucking hot,” I say through gritted

teeth, smiling down at her.

“Yeah, well, it’s probably going to put me in

jail. I’ve never hit anyone before, but that guy was
such a fucking asshole I just reacted before
thinking.”

I look around for Marcus and our group and see

them getting into the limo, so I bend down to her
ear. “You’re not going anywhere tonight except my
bed, but I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly punished
for your bad behavior.”

Without looking at her I pull her hand and lead

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her to our ride and help her get in. Her smile is
beaming like a pair of headlights so I’m sure
everyone inside is sure to suspect something, but I
have zero fucks to give right now. We slide into a
cab to a thunderous applause, everyone clapping
for Lyla who brought a grown man to his knees. I
join in and she is beaming red but this time with a
huge smile. Hopefully feeling like the badass I
know she is. She was embarrassed and I honestly
couldn’t be prouder. The only problem I have with
the situation is, I didn’t get to hit him.

Slowly but surely everyone is dropped off, and

we pull up to our house.

“We actually have one more stop, please,”

Marcus tells the driver to my happy surprise and
gives us a nod goodbye. I get out and help her to
her feet, trying my hardest not to run upstairs. As
soon as I lock the front door behind us, the
atmosphere changes and is suddenly charged, and
sparks fly like hot embers.

I grab her waist, my large hands around her

small body only turning me on more and look deep
into her lust-filled eyes. “I want you, Lyla. I have a
million things to say, but right now I want to take
you right here right now; do you want me?”

“Yes,” her voice breathless, the word barely a

whisper. That is exactly what I hoped to hear. I
slide my hands down her thighs, and my fingers itch
for her skin. Slowly I pull up the skirt of her red silk

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dress. The shorter it becomes the more her grin
stretches, and when I have the fabric bunched in
my hands above her hips, I grab her delicious ass,
hauling her up effortlessly, and she wraps her legs
around my waist. Her arms wind around my neck,
fingers digging in my hair, and she kisses me hard
as I head toward the stairs where I will have her in
my bed.

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16

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LYLA

Cole’s lips on mine is an instant fan on the fire
that’s been burning since I last had him. His soft
lips contradict the roughness of his beard and only
turn me hotter. I’m burning from the inside out with
need for this man. No man has every treated me the
way Cole has.

Tonight was like a magical dream of every best

date known to man, and he did it all for me. I’m
bursting with emotions I’ve never felt before and so
fucking turned on I’m going full porn star on him
right now. Inside his room he breaks our kiss, still
holding me by my thong-exposed ass as he smiles
and tosses me on the bed.

Excitement, anticipation, and nerves are all

getting to me, and I giggle like a ditz, not being able
to help myself. He stands at the end of the bed,
staring at me like a starved man in front of an all

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you can eat buffet, his eyes roaming my body as I
pull my dress higher and higher. I sit up and pull the
silk fabric over my head, exposing my bare breasts,
and toss the dress to a chair by his window.

“You are so damn sexy.”
I slide my thong down and throw it at him with

a smile as I stretch out before him completely
exposed, vulnerable for only him and loving the
way his eyes roam over every inch of me like he’s
on the edge of losing control. He works his suit
jacket off, and I crawl over slowly on my knees and
start working the top button of his shirt and watch
his Adam’s apple bob with a thick swallow.
Looking into his eyes, I bite my lip, and his mouth
crushes mine in a searing kiss that makes me feel
drunk. I release the last button, our kiss breaks, and
he shrugs off his shirt as I make quick work of
losing his belt and push his pants down to the floor.
My hands can’t help but roam his incredible abs,
chiseled chest, and beefy biceps. His body is
smooth, perfectly waxed, and totally unexpected
from such a lumberjack of a man. He cups his large
hands around my face and gently holds me while
pushing me back to the bed. Once again, I’m lying
before him in a sexual offering and never in my life
have I ever felt so beautiful and so wanted.

I watch as Cole pushes his boxer briefs down

and off, and in a blink, he’s covering my body with
his. That soft mouth on my neck spreading wet

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kisses all over and I moan, not caring how
overeager I might sound. I remind myself this is
Cole. I’m safe and I can let loose and give him
everything I have and know I’ll be okay. I realize in
this moment that I trust him.

He sucks my nipple into his mouth, and my

fingers pull his hair, wanting more. He presses his
impressive erection against me, and I go crazy with
need. My body feels like a volcano about to erupt.
So hot and heavy and in dire need of release. His
generous mouth continues a trail across my chest;
stopping in the valley between my breasts, he
pushes my girls together around his face, and my
back arches to give him everything I can. His loud
groan is like kerosene to my burning fire as he
works further down my body, he licks and nibbles
my breasts and ribs and finally my stomach until he
looks up at me and groans again.

“Baby, I have to taste you. I want to eat you

and never come up for air. Is that okay with you?”

“Fuck yes. Please!” I whine, still bucking my

hips against him shamelessly. He lays his strong arm
across my hips, stopping my movements, and I
widen my legs for him.

“Damn, baby, you are so wet. Your pretty pussy

is shining just for me.”

His sexy words send goosebumps across my

body. Before I can agree, his hot tongue is sliding
up my folds and circling my clit. I scream out in

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pure pleasure as fireworks shoot through my veins.
Relentlessly, he works my clit with his tongue and
reaches up for my right breast, squeezing and
kneading it, building me up until he pushes a finger
inside me. The pressure is amazing, but I can’t
seem to get the words out of my mouth to tell him.
I’m right on the edge and want so badly to fall over
into bliss. Another finger pumps inside me and to
my surprise I’m pushing back against it.

Never in my sexual life have I ever allowed a

man’s fingers inside me. I hated the idea of it, but
everything Cole does to me is magically delicious. I
scream his name, and he pulls out his fingers, but
before I can object, he sticks his tongue inside me
and pinches my clit at the same time. I fall apart
and my whole body shakes with my explosive
orgasm, but his tongue doesn’t stop. He continues
to lick me, slowly eating up every drop of my
release as I calm down.

Breathing hard, I run my fingers into his hair

and pull gently, beckoning him to my waiting kiss.
No man has ever made me come before—I have
always had to do it myself and be left unsatisfied—
but as soon as his mouth is on mine again, I feel the
build coming on stronger and stronger. I am
nowhere near done with this diamond in the rough.

Our kiss is deep and unbridled, filled with

longing desire to please each other. I can feel his
adoration for me down to my curled toes. I push on

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his shoulder to get him to lie on the bed and I slide
on top of him, straddling his cock and rubbing
softly, our kiss never breaking. Our tongues dance
and his fingers dig into my ass in such a delicious
way. I arch, pushing my breasts against his bare
chest, and he moans into my mouth. I start to rock
against him, spreading my wetness up and down his
erection. I pull back before I completely lose my
mind.

“Where are your condoms?”
“Side table, first drawer,” he says then sucks

my nipple in his mouth, and I moan in delight. “You
taste so good, baby.”

“Hold that thought.”
I try reaching over to the table but still can’t

make it. Cole notices me struggling and rolls me
over onto my back while staying glued to me, like
he can’t stand us not touching even for a second.
His long hair falls around us, and he reaches into
the drawer beside us without ever looking away
from me. As though we were in our own world
where we can and will do everything we ever
wanted to each other. No longer a fantasy but a
dream come true, right here right now. He rolls on
the condom, and I spread my legs wider under him,
wanting him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I feel the pressure of his head at my entrance, and
my eyes flutter closed as he slowly pushes inside
me. The feeling is overwhelming in the best way.

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He lowers his forehead to mine.

“Look at me, baby, be here with me.” My eyes

spring open and my breath is taken away by the
storm of emotions swirling in Cole’s eyes. My chest
aches, and I know my eyes mirror his, and the
experience is out of this world. Pumping faster, he
nuzzles into my neck in a sweet and intimate way
as I run my fingers through his hair, holding him as
close as I can. Sweat layers our bodies and our
sounds fill the room.

“Oh, fuck yes, Cole, yes!”
Growling, he changes the rhythm and grabs my

hip with one hand and drives harder and it’s my
undoing. I come again and shake as I scream his
name. He bites my shoulder, making me arch into
him, and as I quake beneath him, he thrusts a few
more times and stills deep inside me. I feel his cock
pulsing and feel claimed. Like he’s marking me and
ruining me for all other men. We ride our orgasms
together, moving slowly for a long drawn-out
minute.

Too soon he pulls out, removes the condom,

tossing in his bedside trash can and joins me in bed.
I rest my head on his chest and press my entire
body up against his solid, warm muscles. A few
minutes pass and we finally catch our breath. The
slow rise and fall of his chest lulls me to sleep,
sated and oh so satisfied.

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M

Y

EYES

STILL

HEAVY

, I feel the bed move as my

body wakes up with the scent of Cole, and
memories of our night together flood my mind and
make me smile.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Cole said with his

lips against my ear and ending it with a kiss to my
lobe.

“Mmmmm,” is the only thing I could come up

with in response.

As happy and joyous as I am this morning being

the lucky woman waking up in his bed, I still feel
nervous. The last time we were together he bailed
and avoided me like a sink full of dirty dishes. I
didn’t care as much then as I do now. Now if I open
my eyes and he asks me to leave…I know it’ll hurt.
This is all new territory for me; I’m usually long
gone by now, but I want more with Cole, and I can
only hope he wants that too.

Taking a deep breath, I’m greeted with the

aroma of fresh coffee and his leathery cologne.
Slowly I open my eyes, and I’m met with his kiss,
and my laugh is swallowed when he deepens it.
Suddenly I’m on fire again despite the light ache
between my legs. I push my hands through his
glorious hair and pull his face harder against mine,
pulling his body over mine. I twist and he follows
my lead and lies down as I climb him. He’s in

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pajama pants, but I’m still naked, and he reaches
his hands between us and grips my breasts in a
strong kneading, pleasing grasp. I moan into his
mouth and quickly break the kiss and work my way
down his body.

Hooking my fingers into the waistband of his

pants, I pull down slowly, letting my breasts caress
him on my descent and am rewarded to find he’s
already erect and waiting for me. I smile bright,
excited to take charge of his pleasure the way he
did to me last night. I start by licking him but soon
suck him deep into my mouth and listen to his joy
along with whispers of my name and how good it
feels.

My core begins to throb with want, but I

continue bobbing my head and taking him deeper
and faster until he stops me with his hands on my
shoulders. He’s sitting up now and pulls my legs
around him until I’m sitting on his cock, breathing
heavy with want.

“Condom?”
He leans over and beside the mug of coffee he

grabs it and tears it open with his teeth. I lift up just
high enough to allow him to roll it on and then slide
down hard on top of it with fierce determination.
His head flies back.

“Oh, holy fuck, Lyla. Shit, that feels so fucking

good.”

He wraps his big arms around me, pressing us

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together firmly and passionately, and I start to ride
him slowly, my own pleasure making it hard to pick
up my pace. Then he starts kissing and nibbling my
neck. The roughness of his beard and the bite of his
teeth have me grinding against him faster and
faster.

Wanting more control, I bring my hands to his

shoulders, and he loosens his grip. I pick my legs up
and stand only slightly to be able to drop down on
him. Up and down I ride, dropping down as hard as
I can, and we both yell each other’s name in
ecstasy. He bucks up into me, meeting my force,
and we ride until we both fall over the cliff
together. I shake above him, and he rolls over to lay
us down as we slowly come down from our
amazing orgasms.

“Best. Morning. Ever,” he says, breathless, and

I couldn’t agree more. Not that I could talk right
now over trying to catch my breath.

“That was amazing. You’re amazing.”

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17

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COLE

I could feel her breathing evening out as she lay on
my chest. I didn’t want the moment to end. She
feels so warm and soft pressed against me. Her hair
tangled with mine, I wondered if we might be stuck
together in knots. I am for it; I don’t mind the idea
of being stuck here together, but I also don’t want
an angry Marcus to walk in on us like this without
talking to him first.

“Baby, I don’t know what time Marcus is

coming home. He was still out when I got coffee,
but this isn’t exactly how we should talk to him
about us.”

“Us, huh?” she says with a big toothy smile and

a lift of her chin to look up at me.

“Yeah. Remember those million things I really

wanted to say last night, before you seduced me
and rocked my fucking world?”

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She giggles and those gorgeous green eyes spark

just for me.

“That’s not exactly what I remember but I’m

following.” Rolling over I push her back against the
mattress with my body. I brush the hair back from
her face running my knuckle over her soft cheek
just to keep touching her. I wait a minute trying to
pull my words together suddenly very nervous. I
clear my throat.

“I don’t do relationships very well, and I never

say the right things. Including now, I’m sure, but…”
I take a deep breath and watch as her eyes whirl
with light and dark greens. “I’m trying to say that I
really want to be with you. I love being your friend,
but I want more. I’m scared to death to fail you and
not add up to being much of a boyfriend, but I
promise you right here and now I will give it
everything I’ve got if it means I can be with you.
Spend every day and every night by your side. You,
Lyla, make me want to be a better man, and I just
hope you’ll give me the chance to show you.”

“Holy fuck, Cole.” She has tears in her eyes

just waiting to spill down.

“Damn it.” I sigh and shake my head and go to

get up knowing I already fucked this up because of
course I did. But before I can move far, her hand
grabs my cheek and I brace myself as I look her in
the eyes.

“No, stop. Look…” She swallows hard and

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looks away for a few beats before continuing.
“That was by far the nicest thing anyone has ever
said to me, but I don’t deserve all that. You don’t
have to try to be anyone other than you because I
like you just the way you are, and I’m not someone
who will ever want to change you. I’ve never even
been in a serious relationship, so chances are it’s
going to be me not saying or doing the right thing
here. Are you sure you want to be with a hot mess
like me?”

“Without a doubt I want you. No way you’re

getting away from me now,” I say with a big shit-
eating grin, over the moon happy to hear she has no
expectations. Which I should have known because
Lyla isn’t like any other woman in this world. She’s
strong and tough and understanding beyond belief.
The perfect match for me. Which is also terrifying,
but I feel it in my bones that it will be worth it.

“Say you want me back, Lyla, and I’m yours.”
The tears finally make their way down the sides

of her temple and onto the pillow, and she whispers
the words I will remember for the rest of my life.

“You are mine, Cole.”

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18

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LYLA

After the hardest, most profound conversation I’ve
ever been a part of, we fall back into each other. I
feel insatiable with Cole, like I’ll never get enough.
Sleep takes me after a groundbreaking, life-
changing orgasm.

“Good morning again, beautiful. Marcus sent us

a text saying he won’t be home until tonight. His
mom isn’t feeling well either and brunch is off.”

“It’s probably not good that my best friend not

coming home makes me extremely happy, is it?”

Cole laughs softly. “We’ll figure out a way to

tell him together, and it’ll all work out. Won’t even
be awkward.”

I laugh hard at this. “Oh, sure, keep telling

yourself that, and maybe, just maybe your dreams
will come true.”

His arms reach for my sides and dig in, tickling

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me into a fit of laughter.

“Damn it, Cole, stop.” I laugh and soon he

stops but braces his body over mine. He brushes my
hair off my face in the most intimate way that
makes my insides feel like there might be a caged
army of swarming butterflies. Only Cole could ever
make me feel so damn girly.

“I will come up with the perfect speech, and if

worse comes to worst, I’ll take all the punches. I
promise.”

This, of course, makes me laugh even though it

may be the exact outcome, and then he kisses me,
and all thoughts go straight south. Holy shit, this
man.

“I made you breakfast this time.”
“What? For real?” I ask, honestly shocked. No

one has ever cooked for me. Ever. Mom was a total
deadbeat; if I wanted to eat, I found the money for
groceries and I cooked. Marcus and his family
worked so much it was always takeout late at night
at their record store. I was always grateful for a
worry-free meal, so it never bothered me. This
seemingly innocent thing he’s done for me means
more to me than he might ever know.

“Yeah. You always make the most amazing

food, and I know my pancakes and bacon won’t be
near your status of awesome, but I wanted to and if
it’s all terrible you can always drowned it out with
your favorite coffee. Freshly brewed.” He looks so

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genuine and handsome; I can’t stop the megawatt
smile even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. I pull him
down to me for a kiss just as genuine and hope he
can feel how thankful I am.

Before we get carried away again, he pulls back

and helps me out of his bed. I slip into his long-
sleeved plaid shirt and notice he slipped on a
delectable pair of sweatpants. I am one lucky girl to
be following this sweet and sexy man downstairs,
and I admire the view the entire way. Pancakes as
promised sit on the island and bacon on a cookie
sheet on the stovetop. The kitchen is a mess, but I
just smile and hop up on the high counter by the
coffee.

“Thank you for doing all of this for me, Cole. It

looks great,” I say, reaching up for the plates on the
too-high shelf. He doesn’t say anything, so I look
over across the island to find him staring at me.

“Like what you see, baby?” I ask in my best 1-

900 voice. His eyes turn dark and he licks his lips,
reminding me of our first time together in this
kitchen.

“Where is the honey?” I ask innocently and tap

my chin, watching his reaction.

He drops his coffee cup with a heavy thud,

splashing some on the counter. “Open your legs,”
he growls.

It’s an order but one I’m happy to obey. I

spread my knees wide across the cold countertop

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and cock my head to the side. “Like this?” Then I
bat my eyes at him as he comes closer.

I can’t help the smile spreading across my face,

and I lift the front of my shirt a little, his eyes never
leaving my core. He drops down in front of me,
warm hands on my knees and starts kissing my
inner left thigh, sending an electric current through
my whole body. I’m instantly wet and wanting but
before his mouth reaches me, he turns his head and
softly kisses my right thigh, building my want and
teasing us both. I look down at his sweatpants,
rewarded with his gigantic tent.

Finally, I feel his tongue lick my slit and I let my

long loud moan free at the exact same time I hear
“What the fuck!” from the front door.

“Oh my gosh!” I yell, and Cole jumps to his

feet and stands between me and Marcus, covering
me completely.

“What the fuck, you guys? I told you not to

hook up, so you decide to fuck in my kitchen. I can
never unsee that shit, Lyla! Damn it, Cole, she’s not
just some lay. You two think this is all fun, but you
know this is going to blow up like an atomic
bomb!”

Marcus is blood red, I have never seen him so

mad. “Marcus wait, just listen!” I try but Marcus is
lit.

No! You fucking listen for once, Lyla. I was

trying to protect you. Cole isn’t going to be the guy

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for you for long. This guy moves on to a new girl
faster than I do.”

“Fuck you, man; it isn’t like that. If you would

just listen to us,” Cole barks back.

No, fuck you! Fuck you both! You went

behind my back and disrespected me. The worst
thing about you two selfish assholes is that it’s not
just our friendships you’re hurting. You think you
can keep this going, but soon you’ll be done and
my little girl who looks up to you both will be so
hurt and confused over why you two can’t be at
family dinner or even in the same room together.”

He turns for the door and just before he’s gone,

I try one more time. “No! Marcus, please wait!”

I’m only met with a slam and part of me feels

like breaking. Marcus has always been my best
friend, but honestly more like family. The only real
family I have, and I just literally fucked it up. Cole
turns to me as tears fill my eyes. His hands cup my
face and his forehead hits mine.

“I’m sorry, Lyla. I wanted that to go so

differently. I never wanted to hurt Marcus or make
it seem like you were just a lay. You know you’re
not, right? I’ve been far from perfect; I won’t ever
lie to you. He is right about that. He’s never seen
me with the same girl twice. I was married, and it
didn’t end well so for the last two years I’ve been
with more women than I want to admit.”

He looks so ashamed, but I understand. “I get

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it. It’s not a deal breaker.” I don’t know what else
to say. I’m crushed with the weight of Marcus’
temper and disappointment. “Can we just go back
to bed and back to our little bubble and never
leave?”

This gets a smile out of him. “I would love to

never leave bed if you’re in it, but the world will
still go on. I’ll find a way to make this right with
Marcus. I promise.”

“As hard as that is to believe, I somehow

believe you anyway,” I say, and he scoops me up
off the counter, and we head back upstairs, no
longer hungry. He runs us a hot shower and slowly
unbuttons his shirt I’m still wearing. It’s intimate
and full of affection but no heat. The fight with
Marcus put out the fire that usually burns between
us, but something is still there. Something more.

I step in under the relaxing spray and let the

water wash over me and take all the negative with
it. I soon feel Cole behind me, but he doesn’t say
anything, so I don’t either. He takes my loofah and
squeezes a generous amount of my vanilla-scented
body wash and lathers it until it bubbles. I turn to
face him, still not knowing what to say. He seems to
understand and just washes my shoulder and arm,
and stepping closer, he crosses my breasts gently
but moves on to my other arm and then my
stomach and lower.

This huge giant of a man gets on his knees just

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to wash my body; how in the world could my best
friend not want this kind of devotion for me?
Somehow, he has to forgive us.

Cole climbs back up and in an eclipsing bear

hug he moves my hair over my shoulder, his mouth
to my ear, and washes my back and even my butt,
then just holds me, letting the loofah fall to my feet.
We stay in the comforting embrace for a few long
moments, and then I wash him.

We dry off and spend the day in his bed just

talking. He tells me more about his marriage and
what a godawful cunt of a wife Whitney was—my
words not his; the fact he doesn’t say anything
cruel about her speaks volumes to his character.
Something I can’t help but wish Marcus could see,
but then I think maybe it’s more about me. I don’t
deserve Cole. He’s a good man and I’ve only ever
blown it. Not cock, I mean I can’t hold a man’s
attention, nor have I ever wanted to. I want this
though. More than anything I want to deserve this
man, so I open up. I let my walls down.

I tell Cole all about my whore of a mother who

cared more about partying with assholes than
providing food and necessities for her daughter.
How I was so hungry as a kid I taught myself how
to hustle. The real reason Taco Stan seems like
family because he fed me when no one else would.
How I met Charlie and Marcus at my first real job,
Record 39, and how I loved it. How I spent all my

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money on food, learning how to cook differently
and fed them and Stan all my concoctions. I told
him story after story. Bad, ugly, and unflattering
too. I told him my dreams and when I reached them
and they were taken, it left me wondering why I
worked so hard for such an empty life.

He told me he felt the same way about his

empty marriage. He had wanted her for so long, it
was completely superficial, but he was too young to
realize it. How his parents demanded perfection
and disowned him when he filed for divorce.

We ordered takeout and ate in his room, staying

in our bubble. We laughed and ate greasy burgers
and drank milkshakes all while half naked and
totally content. It was an amazing day with an
incredible man, and although my life is all kinds of
fucked up, I find this bubble to be my happy place.

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19

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LYLA

Walking into the studio, I’m prepping myself to say
all the right things. All the things Marcus needs to
hear about Cole. I’m riding a happy high until I’m
stopped by Mason five doors down from Marcus’
office.

“Hey, Lyla, I’m really sorry but Marcus asked

me to not let you inside. He’s under a lot of
pressure to produce this new album for Simone and
with you two fighting, he doesn’t want you here
right now.”

“What the actual fuck Mason?” I am

legitimately stunned that he would block me like
this. “I just wanted to talk. I want to make up. I
don’t want to be fighting right now or ever.”

“You guys have been tight forever; I’m sure it’ll

blow over, but for right now, today anyway, I can’t
let you inside or he’ll cut my head off. I’m sorry,

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boo, I really am.”

Tears rush to my eyes, but my pride would not

let them fall. I tip my chin up high and turn on my
heel, rushing for the door to escape this dagger that
is slicing through my heart. This isn’t over. I’ll wear
Marcus down. I will be back every day after he
finishes the album. He will be happy for us.

I

MEET

Cole at a restaurant rebuild and start going

through the motions. I help pick tile and granite
countertops, chat up the foreman and introduce
myself to the owner. He knows who I am, says he’s
a fan. A part of me feels embarrassed of what my
reputation has become, but Dane, the owner and
head chef, seems to be genuinely happy to meet
me.

We find ourselves in the only working part of

the kitchen, and he shows me his soon-to-be menu.
He bought the place from the daughter of the
former owner who passed away and had big
ambitions to make it the next five-star restaurant in
San Diego, complete with rooftop bar and lounge. I
give him credit; he has great ideas and an appealing
menu.

“This all looks great, Dane, but how’s the

food?”

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“Would you try some? Hold this.” He excitedly

hands me the iPad he was using to show me his
plans. Quickly he whips out a mixing bowl, salmon,
a few spices, and what looks to be caviar. The eggs
go into a small bowl with sugar and a few other
things and the fish is laid gently on the now warm
burner. It’s fun watching him work, but I find
myself not wanting to join in. For the first time
since I can remember, I have no desire to cook.

My mind drifts to Cole and the retail warehouse

project until a plate of amazing smelling food and
glass full of wine are put in front of me. The food
tastes even better, and I praise Dane to the highest
of my ability and promise to be back regularly to
enjoy more of his genius.

When Cole is finished, we head out the door

hand in hand.

“How was the food?”
“Even better than I imagined,” I replied without

hesitation as we walked down the sidewalk.

“Did you show the kid a few tricks?”
“Kid? Dane is a year older than we are, and no,

I was happy to just be fed.” Smiling up at Cole, he
looks skeptical. “I promise, I realized tonight I do
miss it, but not the way Dane wants. I don’t want
fame or glory. I want simple and small. Maybe
someday I’ll open a small deli or something.
Warehouse 39 took so much of my life away, and it
was all for everyone else. After everything that’s

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happened, I’m happy right where I am. I was
thinking about work and came up with a few ideas
to pitch to Sam and Elliott tomorrow. Like maybe
breaking down that left wall and creating some
kick-ass dressing rooms out of other material like
some of the distressed wood you have from the
beach shack you did last year. I noticed the scraps
on one of your other sites, and one of the guys
there said they weren’t going to use it.”

“Damn, you’re sexy when you talk like that.”
I laugh as he wraps me under his arm and leans

down for a perfect kiss.

L

ATE

THAT

NIGHT

as we lay in Cole’s bed together,

hours after he’s fallen asleep, my mind finally drifts
to all the chaos in front of me. I’m happy but my
life is still in ruins. I have a great job I love, a man
who is beyond anything I could have dreamed up if
I had created him out clay myself. Kind, attentive,
affectionate, and fucking mind-blowing in bed.
He’s the entire package, and yet he’s the reason
I’ve lost my best friend.

Taking a deep breath, I wiggle my way out of

his arms. I have no idea what time it is, so I grab
my phone and head to the hallway bathroom. I’ve
been staying in Cole’s room since the night of the

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fight, and Marcus hasn’t been back at all. Charlie
said he’s been staying in one of the upstairs studio
apartments at Record 39 where she lives along with
the new artist, Simone. Apparently, she’s a real
diva, so he doesn’t have the time to deal with our
crumbling friendship. I find no missed calls or texts
from him but four from an unknown caller.

“Time is up, Ms Turner.”
“You don’t have to answer me. I will find you.”
Creepy old man. So much has happened I

almost forgot.

“I will have Howard’s blood, or I will have

yours.”

“See you soon.”
Fuck
. My hands shake as I read every message

over again three more times.

“Baby, what are you doing on the bathroom

floor? Shit, Lyla, are you okay?”

Cole rushes down to my side and wraps me in

giant arms. Instantly I feel safer, but I hand him my
phone, feeling numb. I haven’t told him everything
about the trouble I’m in. I guess I’m just now
realizing the true danger of my situation. The last
thing I want is to involve him, but I don’t know
what else to do. I don’t have anyone else. In shock
I stare at the toilet, not really looking at it, and just
let him read the messages. I can tell he’s reading
and rereading like I did.

“Who’s this from? Howard was your business

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partner, right?”

“Yes. And I don’t know exactly. Shortly after I

first moved here, I got a call from some old man
talking about how he wanted to get ahold of
Howard and he didn’t believe I wasn’t in contact
with him so he would keep in touch.”

I could see Cole’s face turn grim even in the

dim light, and he pulled me closer to his naked
chest.

“You should have told me. Don’t worry about it

though. I’ve got you now, and I will use everything
in my power to keep you safe.”

A single tear rolls down my cheek, and I know

with all my heart he would die for me. The problem
is I would die for him, and I find myself more
worried he would do something crazy.

He pulls me up and we walk back to bed. We

crawl in and spend the next however many hours
silently worrying about each other and unable to
find sleep. I can only hope this old man is full of
shit and I am overreacting. I rack my brain for all
the details I remember about Howard, making a
mental list just in case I can use it to find him.

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20

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COLE

The morning is already a bitch with little to no
sleep. Lyla was rattled when I found her on the
cold floor of the bathroom last night and she never
fell asleep, so I didn’t either. I feel helpless and I
fucking hate it. I want her to feel safe. To know
without doubt I’ve got her. I would never let some
threatening old fuck lay a single finger on her, but
she’s still worried which means I have to do more
than just tell her I’ll protect her; I’ve got to show
her, which might mean finding the scumbag
Howard Stapleton my damn self.

She told me the name of the detective and a

few vague details of Howard’s family life, or lack
of. She remembered a girlfriend of his and even had
her phone number so I’ll start my boy Roger, who’s
ex-military and a current PI, on that first chance I
can get a minute to call him.

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Today we meet Sam and Elliott at the

warehouse for any last-minute details they want for
the future retail space. This is the perfect
distraction for my girl.

Handing her a huge cup of steaming black

coffee, I listen in on the design details. She’s taking
the lead on this one just like I’d hoped.

“The back wall will be this color of dark teal to

match the upstairs loft and have these three works
of art from a local artist. The upstairs will be more
laid-back and instead of a lot of different clothing
items, it will look more like a lounge, and I was
thinking of adding cucumber water and a jukebox.”

I watch her visibly swallow. This was her big

idea, but she was so scared to mention it she almost
convinced herself it was a bad idea.

“That way the spouse or loved one that’s

waiting will be able to choose the music in the
store.”

Sam starts clapping and bouncing on his toes,

clearly impressed just like I knew he would be.

“Lyla, that is a brilliant idea! I thought we

would use that old loft for extra storage. A lounge
would set us apart from the other retailers on the
block. Spouses will be hurrying the shoppers out of
all the other stores and plant it nice and comfy
here.”

“Right, and the longer they’re here, the more

they will shop,” Elliott adds, much calmer and with

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a greedy smile.

“Exactly.”
That clearly gives her the confidence boost she

needed, and she’s off explaining the rest of the
details for the next hour.

I excuse myself, make my call to Roger and a

few crews I have around the city. I debate calling
Marcus. I want to apologize, but I know he doesn’t
want to hear it. At least not yet. I hate how much it
hurts Lyla, and I miss the fucker. Him and I have
been thick as thieves for the past year and part of
me feels lost without him running in and out of my
daily life. I don’t miss the clubs, but I do miss
football games on the couch and grocery shopping
we always did together. Before I head back inside, I
notice a black SUV that’s driving really slow by the
warehouse. Blacked-out windows and Illinois
plates. I stay close to my truck as they pass, not
speeding up until they pass the stoplight at the end
of the street. I take my phone out to snap a picture
just in case.

“ H

EY

,

BABY

.”

Lyla wraps her arms around my waist as she

meets me in the kitchen, already dressed in her soft
pajamas. “What smells so good?”

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“I attempted dinner, but it’s now in the trash. I

won’t lie. I ran over to that Italian restaurant you
like to make up for it.”

I look down at her sheepishly. She laughs as she

pushes up to her toes to kiss me. I meet her halfway
happily. After all the stress lately, I’ll do anything to
help distract her.

“It smells amazing. Thank you.”
“You bet. I was thinking maybe tomorrow night

you and I go on an official date.” I throw it out
there as I turn for the plates. I can’t believe this
woman still makes me nervous, but she does. I turn
around to find her staring at me with her head tilted
to the side, not in question but an adorable and
confusing look on her face.

“A real date, huh? What did you have in

mind?”

I clear my throat, feeling something I don’t

really want to address right this second and brave
the next phase of my plan.

“It’s a surprise.” I say this casually as I spoon

the pasta onto our plates. I grab the still warm garlic
bread, and she stops me, resting her hand on mine
and looking deep into my eyes. Seconds pass
without a word, and her eyes suddenly change to a
different kind of hunger. She slides my hand around
her waist, and I can’t help the splitting grin across
my face. She pulls my hand lower to her ass, and I
squeeze as she presses her body to mine.

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“I would love to go out with you, Cole.

Anytime, anywhere.”

Then she kisses me. Hard. I pick her up onto

the counter but instantly stop and look to the front
door and back to her.

“Fuck, baby, you got me so hot right now but

let me take you to bed.”

This instantly kills the mood. Neither one of us

wanting Marcus to walk in on us again. I watch her
smile fade quickly and she looks to the floor. I
reach and take her chin in my hands and press my
forehead to hers. No words are necessary. I’m
thankful she doesn’t push me away in favor of
Marcus. I wouldn’t blame her, but it would fucking
kill me. I’m an unworthy asshole to have her
affections, and I swear I won’t ever take that for
granted.

She slides down off the counter, and we eat

dinner. The food is great, and we make light talk
about construction projects I’m working on and
design ideas she wants to bounce off me. I love that
we can talk shop together. I’ve never met a woman
who wouldn’t roll her eyes at me when talking
about work, but Lyla loves it just as much as I do.
She tells me all about the meeting and how Sam and
Elliott seem to be just as thrilled about all her ideas.
I tell her all the time she’s a genius at design, but
she always shrugs it off. Now she seems validated
and beams with excitement.

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We head to bed late after talking for hours and

fall into each other like nothing outside our room
even exists. She is a dream I never want to wake up
from.

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21

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LYLA

As much as I pretended it was no big deal, I’m
crazy nervous. Cole is taking me on our first real
date, and everything about it feels different. He
helps me into his truck, and we head out of the city.

“Where are we going?” I assumed we would be

going out to dinner, and I’m wearing my best little
black dress, complete with lace sleeves and
plunging neckline, like seriously plunging; I have to
be careful bending over.

“It’s a surprise.”
The way he says this is like a sexy purr I feel

throughout my entire body. Almost a promise that
this isn’t at all what I expect, and dirty things are
going to happen. I love surprises, especially ones
that might get Cole naked, so I stay quiet for the
rest of the ride. The city starts to fade into the
rearview mirror and an army of butterflies start a

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parade in my stomach.

“Almost there,” he says, noticing my inability

to sit still. The truck pulls down a sandy road with a
Beach Ahead sign, and we park in front of a sand
dune. I can’t take it anymore, so I open my own
door while he grabs a basket from the back seat I
hadn’t noticed before.

Cole takes my hand after I slip out of my high

heels. No need to ruin them, I toss them into the
open window, and we head down closer to the
water. He starts by laying out a large plaid blanket,
then I sit and watch him lay out tall white candles
he pushes into the sand around us. Followed by a
wood tray, meat, fruit, olives, and nuts. Whiskey,
red solo cups, and Tupperware filled with
something chocolate and cake-shaped.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” My grin is

as full of as much mischief as I can muster.

“Oh no, ma’am, I didn’t forget it.”
He knows. He remembers and knows exactly

what I’m talking about. He turns around and digs
back into the basket and pulls a full bottle of teddy
bear-shaped honey. My smile is literally hurting my
face, and my heart couldn’t be any fuller. How
something so small could mean this much to me is
ridiculous and yet I can’t help it.

My eyes move to his lips, and he moves in

closer to me, scooting over to kiss me. He touches
my cheek, and I don’t hold back. I kiss him with all

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the love I feel. As scary as that is, I feel it so
strongly in this moment. I know it’s too soon and
I’m a mess. He deserves so much better than me,
but hopefully he never figures that out.

He leans away and kisses my nose before

staring into my eyes. I don’t know what he’s
looking for, but I stare back, so thankful he’s here
with me in this moment. A loud crash breaks our
trance, and my head snaps to the ocean. Fireworks
shoot up from a couple boats below.

“Oh my gosh,” I say in shock and look around,

expecting a crowd. No one else is around; we are
the only ones here. “Did you know they had
fireworks tonight? Where is everyone?”

He doesn’t say anything, just moves me over

his lap and between his legs and wraps me in his
arms. I lean back and take it all in. Grabbing a slice
of meat, I put it to his mouth, and he eats it from
my hand, nipping at my fingertips.

“Do you like it?” he whispers right next to my

ear.

“Yes, I love it. This is by far the best date of all

time.”

“Good. Worth every penny then,” he says,

leaning back, then grabbing a grape and putting into
my open mouth before I could get out my question
of what he meant. I chew and swallow, but when
I’m done, his mouth is full. Intention written all
over his face. I decide to enjoy the rest of the show.

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Something I’m starting to suspect was all organized
by the man around me.

His warmth is the only thing keeping me from

shivering as the breeze blows off the ocean. The
sky lights up in blues, reds, yellows, and all the
colors of the rainbow. Finally, a dozen go off at the
same time and finish with a large red heart. I giggle
and cuddle closer to him. Both adoringly and
because it’s gotten so cold. He leans back again and
pulls a smaller fuzzy blue blanket around us. I grab
the whiskey for a little more help. We drink and eat
the amazing food he brought and talk about our
favorite movies and songs, and I finally ask him if
he set up the fireworks. I don’t think he wanted to
admit it, but he finally says he knew a guy and
that’s the end of it. I laugh it off and conversation is
easy. Like always when I’m with him.

Facing him now, I ask, “So, food mostly eaten,

booze mostly gone, whatever will you do with me
now, Cole?”

Flirting, I continue to feel down his delicious

abs, suddenly hungry for something else. At his belt
buckle, I lock eyes with him and bat my lashes as I
unclip the notch and get all the way to unzipping
his pants when he stops me with his hand and
growls that sexy sex growl he does when I get him
worked up. He presses my hand to his length as he
leans forward.

“Do you really want to start something here,

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baby? Because you can’t start something you can’t
finish, and I’m going to fucking ravish you.”

I’m so wet and turned on by those simple

words; quickly looking around to confirm we’re
still alone, I climb on top of him, straddling his
waist, and pull the blanket around my back and his.
My dress is hiked over my ass at this point, and his
hands push it up higher but I’m warm and covered.
I wiggle on his lap, getting the reaction I want as I
feel him grow harder, and I moan in his ear. Pulling
his hair just a little I ask, “This night has been
perfect, can I show you how thankful I am?”

I bite down on his earlobe and work my way

down, kissing his neck. “Baby, when you do that.
Mmmm. Yes. All things yes.”

Freeing his cock, I pump him slowly, and he

captures my mouth with his. The waves crash
behind me, but otherwise silence surrounds us. He
works his mouth down my jaw, to my neck, and
bites when he hits my shoulder, and I start pumping
harder.

“I need inside you now, Lyla.”
Using my name surprises me but not as much as

he does when he reaches between us and rips my
panties off.

“I want to feel you and only you tonight. If

that’s okay. I’m clean and you know I take the pill
every day.”

“Fuck, baby, nothing would make me happier. I

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don’t want anything between us. I’m clean. I have
the paper in my office to prove it.”

I groan like a savage ready to attack him and

kiss him fiercely. I’m soaked for him and slide on
easy. He meets my thrusts, and I land on him hard.
Feeling like I can’t get enough of him, I move his
hand from my ass to my clit. He takes over,
breaking our kiss to smile at me.

“Fuck, you are so sexy. Show me what you

like.” I’m on edge and the way he’s looking at me
has me that much closer. He pulls me close,
bottoming out inside me, and moves us until I’m
underneath him. He drives into me so hard I see
fireworks again. This time I feel them all over my
body, and I come with the most intense orgasm I
have ever had. As I clench around him, he comes
undone, collapsing on top of me but holding his
weight on his forearms.

“You’re welcome,” he pants, and I can’t help

but laugh. We adjust our clothes and lay looking up
at the stars for a while longer, not wanting the best
night of my life to ever end.

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22

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COLE

Fucking A. I watch Lyla as she does another squat
in front of me, happily taking my time with my own
reps. She is so fucking beautiful; how did a sorry
ass man like me get so lucky. I think I might ask
myself that for as long as she’s with me. Our date
went better than I imagined, and we’ve been on
cloud nine together ever since. All of her things are
officially in my room and that body is in my bed
every night; we grocery shop and cook together,
work together, hell we are even working out
together, and still I can’t get enough of this woman.
As I watch her plump apple ass dip low, I fantasize
about the many positions I can bend her into and
still bury my cock in it. We have made jokes but
I’m dead serious, I want in.

Suddenly jerked out of my head by someone

brave enough to shake my shoulder, I realize I’ve

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been staring for a while and she’s moving on to bar
pull-ups. I drop my bar and glare down at the small
guy beside me.

“What?”
“Hey, man, just realized who you were and

wanted to come over and get your card. You built
an apartment complex for my company awhile
back, and we were wanting to do another project
like that soon.”

“And you are?” I ask, not believing a word this

little shit says for a second. He’s slick and wearing
all the top brand athletic wear but screams
slimeball.

“Name’s Darren Henry. I’ll be in touch this

week to set something up. We have a site in mind.
Just wanted to introduce myself.”

His grin turns my stomach, and I can’t wait to

get away from this guy. I look to Lyla and her back
is still to us as she listens to music on her
headphones. I nod and soon he’s backing away.

Lyla and I finish up our Monday routine and

head home to shower. We prefer to do it together at
home. Not always fucking but always enjoyable.
Dinner was amazing and she made me grilled
chicken in a mouthwatering sauce, green beans,
and twice baked potatoes with cheese and chives.

It was a long day and we head to bed just happy

to be in each other’s arms. I know I love this
woman when she’s taken over every aspect of my

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life and I keep thinking about more. That is scary,
and I’m not about to scare her off. Any other
woman would be demanding I say the three little
words where Lyla would be the one woman to pack
up and head back to Chicago if I even hinted at it.
No, I’ll show her instead. Another date maybe.
Maybe I can patch things up with Marcus and put
our little family back together; that would certainly
win me points.

For now, I’ll hold her and whisper into her ear

how fantastic her ass feels against my cock. I grin
devilishly as she grinds back on me. We fall asleep
teasing each other, too tired to do anything about it.

The next morning, I have her coffee ready and

waiting when she comes down showered and
dressed for our day at the retail warehouse. I had a
dream, giving me the best idea how to tell her how
much she means to me, but I will need Charlie and
Marcus in on it, and that comes with its own
challenges.

W

E

ARE

hours into the remodel, and I’m covered in

sawdust and sweating through my flannel. Lyla’s
knocking out a back wall with a sledgehammer
bigger than she is. I laugh and stop what I’m doing,
dust off my arms and beard, and head over to be

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closer just in case she needs me. Not that I make it
obvious or she will kick my ass.

I start on stacking the old driftwood she wants

to reuse. I’m moving everything to the far side
when I spot her phone. There are forty-one missed
calls. I pick it up, not even thinking twice about it.
We share our phones all the time and have
discussed how we won’t ever have anything to hide
from each other, so I know she won’t care. She
even programmed my fingerprint to hers and I did
the same with my phone. If that’s not fucking
commitment, I don’t know what is.

I open it and see it’s all from the same number

and assume it’s from the asshat who’s been
harassing her. Motherfucker. This is the perfect
reminder to check in with Roger and get an update.
He’s been working around the clock, putting his
former military intelligence skills to work for us and
I’m grateful for a family friend with a certain kind
of connections. Anything that would help my girl.
She’s got the wall and hammer down, and Scott, a
crewman, is there helping her now. I step outside
just in time to meet a mail carrier on a bike who
comes to a screeching halt before he runs into me.
The tire stops directly against my steel-toe boot.
The guy looks up at me and apologies a dozen
times.

“Dude, it’s fine.”
I wave him off and step back against the

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building. He reads the address and pulls out a letter.

“Well, man, this seems to be for you anyway.”
I take the manila envelope, and he takes off. No

signature required, I guess. I tear into it and grind
my teeth at the threat I read on the note inside. It’s
for Lyla from the son of bitch who won’t leave her
alone. This shit has got to stop. I take it to my truck
and snap a shot of it for Roger. No sender address. I
hate that I have to give this to her. I want to shield
her and protect her, but I can’t leave her in the
dark. I take a deep breath and go in, then ask her if
she’ll go to lunch with me.

We head to a hole in the wall China place I

know she’ll love. I’m shocked when the chef comes
out to meet her. Saying he saw her and wanted to
personally say hello and invited her to come cook
with him anytime. She is constantly amazing me. I
can tell this praise always makes her
uncomfortable, but I’m afraid she feels like she
doesn’t deserve it anymore. These assholes from
Chicago have caused her so much pain, and I’m
determined to fix it.

She steps back into the kitchen for a while, but

when we sit down to eat, we’re alone and I ease her
into it with a kiss and tell her about Roger and that
he’s the best man for the job.

I give her the letter to read. It’s the same threat

as before. He wants Howard or his money or he’s
going to make her life hell. He even threatens to

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come after her, and I wish I could tell him to
fucking try. I will rip any man limb from limb who
dares to touch her. She takes the news well,
considering, but I see the unease in her eyes. She’s
acting strong and believe me I know she is, but
she’s scared too. We grab some extra food for the
crew and head back to work. We keep busy, me
never letting her out of my sight. I’m officially
paranoid, and I would be afraid she feels
smothered, but she keeps looking at me with a look
of adoration. Fuck, I love that look.

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23

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LYLA

It’s a long hard day at the warehouse, but things are
finally looking like a retail space. We are nowhere
near done, but I see my vision coming to life and
love it. The dark-teal painted walls and dark
paneling wood are perfect for the boutique and
aren’t the cliché turquoise other beach-themed
stores are using. Plus, the guys loved the idea to
paint the pipes on the ceiling crazy bold colors to
add the dramatic pop of color to match the
different clothes. I love all the little things that will
set this place apart. I might be burying myself in my
work and avoiding the chaos around me, but so far,
it’s working out just fine.

As a huge bonus, I get to stare at Cole’s

amazing muscles glistening with sweat so it’s by far
my favorite job I’ve ever had. Including being an
up-and-coming chef with my face plastered on

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billboards in Chicago. Cooking never came with
these sexy perks.

The crew heads out, and Cole and I finish up

and store our tools for the night. The sun is just
starting to go down, but we decide to call it and
walk hand in hand to pick up some takeout. I love
when he cooks for me and never just assumes I’ll
be doing the cooking, but we are both pretty tired
from the heavy lifting we did all day.

When we make our way out of the restaurant,

we are suddenly blinded by flashing lights. People
all around us are yelling my name.

“Lyla, is it true your business partner ran your

restaurant into the ground?”

One paparazzo hits me in the chin, shoving his

phone in my face. I hear Cole yelling profanities,
and more questions are yelled all at the same time. I
feel like I’ve been shoved into a mosh pit.
Everyone is pushing into me, and I lose my balance
until someone grabs my arms and yanks me up.
He’s still pulling me through the crowd, but I know
it’s not Cole, so I twist until I’m out of his hold. He
doesn’t turn around. Actually, he starts walking
faster as the paparazzi keeps up the never-ending
questions of my failed career. How did they find
me, and why do they care at this point?

“I am no longer in the cooking industry. Now, if

you all would please leave me be.”

I step out to the curb and spot Cole’s truck but

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no Cole. Suddenly the people surrounding me part
as they’re shoved by my man bulldozing his way
through them. He picks me up and throws me over
his shoulder and even though I was miserable a
second ago I can’t help the giddy yelp I let out. He
unlocks his side of the truck and tosses me in. I
slide over and watch all the phones and cameras in
shock as they are all pressed against his window.
He turns the truck on and revs the engine just a bit
until they finally step back.

We take off toward home, and I look back to

see if I can spot the guy in the red shirt that was
pulling me. I didn’t see his face but something
about him seemed familiar.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Cole wraps his meaty

bicep around my back and my waist, and I scoot
closer and straighten out.

“It’s not your fault, Cole. If anything, I’m sorry.

I don’t know how they found me or why they think
I’m news anymore.”

“I hate to say it, but the crypt keeper knows

you’re at that warehouse and could have told
them.”

This is all very true, and my mind goes back to

the man in the red t-shirt again. I’m lucky I got
away and didn’t just go with him to get out of the
chaos. Was that his plan? Was that all a setup?

We get back to the apartment with nothing to

eat so we pull together a couple grilled cheese

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sandwiches and salads. After our shower Cole
grabs my chin with deep furrowed brows.

“What?” I ask, unsure what could be wrong all

of a sudden.

He spins me to look in the mirror and sure

enough a large bruise is forming on my chin.
Probably from that first hit I took. I will probably
have a few more come tomorrow, but I’ll keep this
to myself along with my encounter. I turn back to
my beautiful man and shrug as I put my arms
around his neck.

“I’m okay, baby. Let’s just relax and fall into

our bubble for the night.” His face doesn’t get any
happier, but he leans down and brushes his lips
against mine. “I won’t let anything like that happen
to you again.”

“I know. I trust you and know I’m safe with

you, Cole. Please don’t worry yourself sick. Your
guy will get the right information to the police and
everything will blow over. I’m sure whatever gossip
the paparazzi comes up with over tonight will be
enough to let me fade off into obscurity never to be
famous again.”

The idea makes me smile, and I press my lips to

his. He deepens the kiss and sweeps me away. We
don’t even make it out of the bathroom.

I’m totally spent by the time he’s done with me

and forget everything that happened. He picks me
up off the countertop and puts me in bed. He

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brushes the hair from my face, leaning over me and
telling me all about how amazing he thinks I am. I
go into detail about his awesomeness and even
confess my fantasies I’ve had while watching him
at work. Suddenly we’re in this weird competition
on sexy thoughts and laughing until finally we roll
into a spoon and fall asleep.

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24

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COLE

Driving up to the retail warehouse, I shift into park
and watch Lyla grab my coffee with hers and climb
down from my jacked-up Nissan Titan. When I get
down and around the truck, I stop dead in my
tracks next to her, our coffee and cups spilled at her
feet.

The outside wall to the shop has the words

“Time’s up” spray painted in red and the two large
newly painted white entrance doors are nothing but
shards and splinters on the ground. We cautiously
step into the warehouse where everything seems to
be trashed. By the looks of things whoever was
here took all my heavy-duty tools and slammed
them into everything we were working on or had
finished. Everywhere we look is rubble or pieces of
wood. All our hard work is destroyed, and by the
look on my girl’s face, she knows exactly who did it

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and why. Tears fill her eyes as she circles the open
space.

“Holy shit. Why would he do this, Cole? Why

not just shoot me while leaving, or run my car off
the road, or better yet why the fuck can’t he just
find Howard and leave me alone?”

She’s shaking at this point, and I pull her into

my arms. Before I can say anything reassuring, I
hear voices that can only belong to Sam and Elliott.
I turn us toward the door, but she quickly pushes
out of my arms and wipes her eyes, putting on the
fake brave and confident persona she’s so good at.

“Hey, guys, I didn’t expect you. It seems

someone has vandalized the shop, but I assure you
we can get everything back on track.”

Even her beautiful beaming smile can’t help the

frowns from deepening on the owners’ faces.

“Lyla, we’ve been here for hours, honey, and

the police have come and gone. We were alerted
late last night by our security system that there was
a break-in. Unfortunately, there will be an
investigation because of the writing on the wall
outside. This is going to set us back, dear. I’m
afraid we have to let you go. At least until the case
is closed and we’re allowed to be on the property
again. As it is, we have to ask you to leave. We
only came back to board up the door.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys, I’m so sorry.”
I stop her by putting my arm around her

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shoulders before she says anymore. I don’t want to
get the police involved now that I’ve hired Roger.
If I get my way, these crooks won’t walk again, let
alone serve time for mere vandalism. They will be
going to prison or the grave after a thorough and
well-deserved beating.

“Sam, Elliott, we are both so sorry to see this

travesty. Please let us help board up the doors, and
did they reset the security cameras for you? Did
they have any leads on who could have done this?”

I’m fishing but they don’t know that. Lyla does

and she looks up at me with a menacing expression
and a million questions in her eyes. I just kiss her
forehead as our soon-to-be former clients thank us
and head for the door.

“I’m afraid the police were more than useless,

but the security system caught the man on camera.
The company said they would turn it in to the
police and couldn’t tell us anymore.”

Interesting. I board the door and Lyla nails it.

We make sure both are secure and say our
goodbyes. I give Elliott my card in case they need
anything. Even if it’s not work-related, I assure
them we would appreciate them letting us know
what they hear from the police. They promised we
would be the first to know and apologized to Lyla.

They saw her passion for this project and see

how hurt she is seeing it destroyed. She’s lost so
much in such a little time, but she’s been holding it

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together and thriving on this project.

I’m lost in thought and don’t know what to say

on the drive home. She’s quiet too, and I can see
the guilt she feels from here. I reach for my phone
and set up speech text so she can hear every word
to Roger. I get his reply as I’m pulling into the
garage.

Roger: I’m on it. I’ll have the video footage by

tonight. Should also let you know I found Howard’s
girlfriend. Address is Chicago, on my way there
now.

I read it to her, and we head upstairs. She goes

straight to our room, but I head to my office. I
investigate the security system company a bit
online and after a few calls I’m put in touch with
sales who is dumb enough to brag to me which
employee sent the videos from the warehouse to
the police and the name of the officers on the case.
I send it all to Roger and lean backm taking a deep
breath.

I’m lost as to how I can make Lyla feel better

right now. This just sucks, and nothing I say will
make it better. I send a message to Marcus, hoping
he’ll answer but don’t hold my breath. I order lunch
from her favorite burger shack and serve it to her in
bed. I may not know what to say, but I can show
her I am still here for her. It’s a comfortable silence
as we eat, and I think it’s the right move when she
gives me a small smile and thanks. I take everything

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to the kitchen and go back to my office. I check in
with my crews around town and check my email.

Moretti International Trading is looking for a

quote on not one but three locations for remodel or
demo rebuilds. San Diego is a big city full of
everyone wanting to do business, but three
buildings is still a lot. I forward the email to Jack
and ask what dates and locations we have
available. This project is huge and might be just the
thing Lyla needs to get out there and get busy
again. I spend the next four hours researching
locations and talking back and forth with a crew
that’s available. Finally, I send a quote to the client
and cross my fingers that they take it.

The days gone before I know it and I am

surprised to find Lyla in the kitchen making dinner.
She’s listening to AFI’s “Miss Murder” when I seat
myself at the island and start singing along with her.
She turns, surprised, but genuinely smiles at me,
then grabs two wine glasses but before she pours,
she laughs and grabs the whiskey instead. Most
nights we don’t drink but more often than not go
for red wine. Every time we have whiskey, it has
meaning behind it. A reminder of our beginning and
how far we’ve come together through everything
and everyone against us.

We continue to sing the next song together,

Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars,” as she plates a
mouthwatering pork chop, green beans, and creamy

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mac and cheese. Talk about amazing comfort food;
this would blow anything my grandma ever made
out of the water.

“I saw Snow Patrol in concert once,” I say

tiptoeing on something gentle that has nothing to do
with today.

“Oh yeah? I’m assuming a girlfriend dragged

you out to see them.”

“No, my sister actually.” I laugh, happy she’s

going with it.

“Ah, I knew it. I knew you weren’t the type to

go sway to those emo beats,” she says with a wink
as she comes to sit next to me with her plate. I grab
her drink and set it by her plate next to me.

“What was your all-time favorite concert?” I

ask as she digs into her first bite of pork chop,
moaning around the fork. I follow her lead and my
eyebrows hit my forehead.

“Wow,” I mumble around my bite.
I look to her in appreciation, and she smiles

with a mouth full while she nods in agreement. We
dig into dinner for a while before she answers.

“My favorite concert ever was probably Fall

Out Boy, right before I moved away. Charlie,
Marcus, and I road-tripped to Austin, Texas, and
rented a super nice hotel room in downtown and
partied before and after. It was absolutely
awesome. Charlie had the biggest crush on Pete
Wentz. Even though the man was married at the

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time and wouldn’t actually even see her. It didn’t
really matter. She just went through this really
traumatic thing with her family, so I surprised her
with the trip. It helped but I’m still not sure she’s
gotten over it, even after all these years.”

“Ouch. Must have been bad if it still hurts. Fall

Out Boy would be the perfect amount of angst for
something like that though. Glad you guys have
those good memories.”

“It was definitely a trip of a lifetime. I don’t

think I will ever forget it. Charlie, as you know, is
really guarded and shy by nature, but she fucking
let it all loose in Austin. It was incredible.”

“That’s awesome. I had a trip like that with a

buddy back in college. We went on an epic
mountain bike trip one summer in Arizona. Fucking
hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Not only was it
challenging to keep riding physically, but if we
weren’t careful to stay hydrated, we would have
died for sure.”

“Holy shit. Why would you do something like

that?”

“It was a challenge, like climbing Mt. Everest,

not everyone would or could do it, and we can say
we did.”

“Okay. I get that. It’s a huge accomplishment. I

would and could never do that, so kudos, babe. I’m
proud of you.”

I see it. The pride in her eyes and it’s aimed at

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me. Feeling brave I decide to go for what I hope to
be good news.

“Well, thank you. I really did it so years down

the road I could impress you.” I grin, and she
knocks her shoulder into me.

“I do have some good news to share about

work.”

I fork the last of my mac and cheese, trying to

buy myself some time and see her nod out of the
corner of my eye.

“I received an email from a company wanting

us to build or remodel three business locations here
in the city. Jack and I worked out all the details
today and sent the quote. If they like it, it’ll be a lot
of profitable work for us.”

“Cool,” is all she says as she eats one last bite,

popping up to take her plate to the sink. Okay,
maybe it’s not exciting news, but so far this night
hasn’t been a total disaster, so I won’t push it. We
don’t even know if they’ll follow through.

We finish the night with an MMA match,

cheering for Caleb who does a much better job of
cheering her up. Fucker.

The next morning I’m happy to see an email

from Moretti International Trading accepting my
bid and officially hiring the company. They want to
see the locations as soon as possible so I forward
their email along with the site locations to Jack and
Lyla. She’s still in the shower, but I know she’s safe

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here at home, so I head out to meet Jack. I send her
a text right after the email and promise her I’ll be
back for lunch and want her to take the day off if
she wants.

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25

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LYLA

I soak in the shower, taking my time. It’s not as
relaxing without Cole and his back rubs. I think I’m
getting spoiled, but it’s the only good thing in my
life right now. I keep my eyes closed tight and hold
my head under the running water and wish it would
wash away all the chaos.

I think back to my restaurant and how it felt to

be arrested in front of all my employees. I
remember what it felt like to be escorted to the
airport with Marcus and none of my belongings
after handing over the keys to my home. Then I
think about Marcus and his face when he caught
me and Cole in the kitchen. The betrayal written all
over it after he’s done so much for me. The fact
that he won’t speak to me or let me in the studio to
explain to him how being with Cole is the only
happy thing in my life at the moment. I wouldn’t

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stress him with the Howard drama.

Then I remember all that. The phone calls and

text messages, the letter addressed to the
warehouse that should have clued me in to not
being safe there. With Cole, an army of gangsters
could have knocked down the door, and my smart
ass would have told them to bring it on. Then I
remember the paparazzi and how they separated us
and the douche bag almost pulling me away from
him completely. I don’t think I’m strong enough to
handle any of this without him.

The disaster that’s left of the retail warehouse

makes me want to cry. I finally found something I
could bury all my time and energy in and now it’s
all gone. Ripped away so fast I almost got whiplash.

I turn the shower off, then get dressed in jeans

and a button-up blue dress shirt, not sure what I’m
doing today besides following Cole around. Surely,
he won’t want to work from home again today. I
head downstairs only to find myself alone. I check
my phone for messages and spot a new email
notification from him. It’s three locations from the
new client. They must have signed the contract. I
can’t seem to find any enthusiasm for this project,
but I grab my messenger bag filled with my
notebooks and iPad and head to the first address in
an Uber.

He must want me to scout it out first because

when I arrive, I’m the only one on-site. It’s just an

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old beat-down, never-finished building, rusty and
gutted. Looks like someone started this one once
upon a time and probably ran out of capital before
they could finish. Not uncommon in this city and a
great find for Cole. I pay my driver and sit on some
grass, giving me a great overall view of the
building. I reread the email and think about sending
Cole a flirty message but talk myself out of it,
deciding that I’ll get this done and let him work. It’s
bad enough he stayed home yesterday for me.

I spend hours sketching and typing up a few

ideas. It’s late afternoon and I think I’ve done all I
can do here. I stand and brush off my jeans and put
all my things away when I notice a black SUV pull
into the property. This must be the new client. I
straighten up my shirt the best I can after hours of
sitting bent at the waist and walk over to introduce
myself.

The passenger side door opens and an older

man, maybe in his forties, with dark hair and a
beard comes around. I stretch my hand out to greet
him, but he opens the back door and when he takes
my hand, he pulls hard and shoves me into the
back, slamming the door behind me. Panicking, I
turn to open it, but it’s locked and won’t budge. I’m
alone back here, and there is blacked-out plexiglass
between the front and back seat. I beat on it with
all my strength, screaming and demanding they let
me out, but nothing happens.

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I feel the car start to move and fumble to find

my phone to call Cole, 911, anyone and everyone. I
find it and press 2 and forget it’s Marcus still and
not Cole but leave an erratic message and pray he
listens to it. My phone soon cuts off and is
completely dead even though it was fully charged
this morning.

I can’t remember if I pushed send on the email I

was working on to Jack and Cole or not, and I start
finding it hard to breathe.

What if no one can find me and these are the

men who want Howard? I still have no idea where
he is and can only imagine what they have planned
for me.

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26

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COLE

Finishing up with Jack and the crew at the
restaurant build, I check my phone for the millionth
time. Still no word from Lyla. As I slide into the
truck, I send her a text.

“Did you see the email I sent you about the

Moretti projects?”

I wait two minutes and nothing.
“They accepted the bid, and I’d love your input

on the locations I’ve found. Let me know what you
think. You don’t have to work the design if you
don’t want to. Just wondering what you think.
Could be fun.”

I shift into drive, getting a bad feeling. She

might still be upset or the asshole from Chicago
could have figured out where we live. I speed the
entire way home, checking my phone for a reply
and praying she’s just taking a nap or something

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else innocent. God, I pray she’s safe.

I slam into park once in the garage and bust

through the door.

“Lyla!”
No answer. I run upstairs and open every door

to find no one else here. I call her phone; it goes
straight to voicemail. I’m pacing around the living
room when the front door swings open. I grab the
baseball bat beside the couch. I go to swing and
almost smash Marcus in the face.

“Dude, what the fuck?” he says, stepping back.
“Motherfucker,” I whisper, grabbing my chest.
“What the hell is going on, man? Why did I get

some creepy as fuck voicemail from Lyla? Where is
she?”

He walks into the apartment and looks around.

He’s about to go upstairs when I say, “She’s not
here and I don’t know. I’m losing my fucking mind
with worry. What message?”

He turns to face me, brows furrowed, and pulls

out his cell phone from his pocket. He unlocks it as
he comes closer, then her panicked voice fills the
room.

“Marcus! God, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to call

you, and I can only pray you actually listen to this,
but I need help! Please find Cole; he knows what’s
going on. Tell him they grabbed me at the first site,
and I’m in some black SUV. A forties-something
guy with dark hair and a beard shoved me inside

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and it’s locked. I thought he was the client and…”

The call drops and I’m fuming with anger and

clenching my fists. “Son of a fucking bitch!” I
swing my arm and bust a lamp into a million pieces,
wishing it was the face of this son of a bitch.

“Now tell me what the fuck is going on and

what kind of trouble you got her into so I can kick
your ass and find her.”

“Fuck you! This isn’t on me.”
He doesn’t listen and before I can finish, his

fisted knuckle lands square on my jaw. Losing
balance for a second, I come back up and at him,
swinging my fist and smashing his nose. Taking no
time to recover, he grabs me around the waist,
taking me to the ground. We roll for a while until
his head hits the corner of the island. He gets in
another shot as I try to get on top of him.

“Fuck!” I find the leverage I need and pin him

to the floor. Elbow on his throat, I say, “Will you
please listen to me. This shitstorm is from Chicago.
A guy has been harassing her for information on her
old business partner. Turns out he didn’t just screw
her over; he got himself and now Lyla mixed in
with some possibly mobster fucking guys, and they
don’t believe Lyla doesn’t have anything to do with
it. Now I’m going to get up and you’re going to
chill the fuck out so we can figure out where she is
and kill these motherfuckers. You in?”

His dark skin is so red I know he can’t talk so

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he just nods. I get up slowly, expecting a last-
minute hit, but it doesn’t come. Marcus grabs his
throat and takes a few deep breaths. I wipe my
bloody lip with my hand, mixing blood from the
two. I growl at the time we’ve wasted and go
around the island for a towel. I throw him one too
and swipe mine under the water.

I clean up fast and catch him up on the calls,

the letter, and the warehouse. He plays the message
again, and I check my email. Maybe she didn’t see
my message and went straight to the first location
on the email I sent. I tell Marcus this, and he grabs
the bat I almost hit him with. I have a much better
idea and call Roger as we load up in my truck. It
takes us fifteen minutes, but luckily Roger is
already back from Chicago and meets us. He steps
out of his SUV and opens the back. Several pistols
and shotguns as well as a few automatics are laid
out in display.

“I have some really bad news on my lead in

Chicago, and this is probably the worst time to tell
you, but you need to know who we’re up against
here.”

Marcus and I share a concerned look, but I nod.

“I need to know everything.”

“I found Cathy at her house in Chicago. Cathy

was seeing Howard when the shit came out to the
public.”

He explains the last part to Marcus since I knew

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all about the trip to see her and I was hoping for
good news.

“Anyway, I found her at home, the place had

been ransacked, and her body was tied to her bed.”

I take a deep breath, trying not to pass out.

Marcus is just as shaken and holds on to the side of
the truck for support. Roger goes on to tell us he
dug a bit into her and Howard’s relationship and
even spoke to Detective Graves without him
knowing he was working the case too. Played dumb
at a local bar before his red-eye back here. Graves
is a smart man, but the scene of Cathy’s bedroom
had him hitting the hard liquor. He innocently gave
up the name of a local crime family by the name of
Moretti, and I almost threw up.

I tumble back and round the hood to get a

moment to myself. I stay close enough to hear the
conversation, but my head is throbbing. I sent her
right into their arms. Part of me wanted to hurl
myself off a cliff into the ocean; the other side was
furious and wanted heads to roll a lot more.

“Apparently, the family is more like the mob of

Chicago, and Howard was working with them,
laundering their money through Lyla’s restaurant
without her knowledge. The problem is Graves
can’t touch them. The family has a wide net of
supporters all the way up to congress.”

I find my balls and swallow my nerves and

make my way back around. “There here. They set

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us up, hired my company for three locations, and I
told Lyla. This is the first of the three and where I
think she meant when she called Marcus.”

Marcus nods and plays the message for Roger.

He gets out his own cell phone and plugs in a few
things.

“Where are the other two locations?”
I tell him, but he doesn’t think they would take

her there. Instead, they just watched and waited for
us to show up at those locations. His phone dings
and says he has a lead on a house that’s here and
owned by known friends of the Moretti family and
worth checking out. He suggests we all go together
so I shove a couple pistols into my boots and get
into the front seat, ready to tear up the entire town
to find her.

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27

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LYLA

The stench of raw fish floods my nose, and I can
barely feel my fingers the room is so cold. My head
is pounding so I keep my eyes closed. Soon my
memories all come flooding back, and I remember
I’ve been taken. The last thing I remember is the
SUV door opening, and I tried attacking the man.
He was twice my size and grabbed my ankle as I
kicked and screamed. Finally, he pulled me close
enough to hit me on the head with the bottom of his
gun.

I slowly open my eyes, careful not to move. I’m

lying on the cold cement floor, and it’s dark and icy.
A few minutes past with no other sounds but my
breathing, I think I’m alone, so I get to my feet and
look around. There is a small light down on the
other end of the room, but there are shadows of
things hanging from the ceiling between here and

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there, Tuna, I think. I make my way behind the
racks and step carefully toward the light.

Suddenly, a door opens behind me. I turn to see

a familiar face stepping in. Darren Henry, the
cocky-ass pretty boy from my yoga class, wearing
the same red shirt he was wearing when he grabbed
me in the crowd of paparazzi; it makes sense now,
except it doesn’t.

That son of a bitch, why would he do this? I’m

so mad I’m not thinking straight and go after him,
fists swinging. He’s not that much taller or stronger,
and I land a good punch to his nose and left eye,
but he grabs me by my wrists and turns me around,
locking my back against his chest.

“Hello again, Lyla. It’s so nice to see you,” he

whispers into my ear, his harsh breath brushing
along my cheek and only making me want to kill
him more. I kick back at his shins and scream, but
I’m stuck. He laughs as he jerks me out of the
locker and takes me through a house. I catalog
everything I see, not sure it will help but it keeps
me from panicking.

The floors are dark hardwoods with red-and-

gold rugs; matching gold sconces on the walls light
our way down a large hallway. Antiques litter the
sides as we pass and finally turning a corner, two
big bodyguard-looking men in tight black t-shirts
stand outside a door. They open it, and I try one
last time to free my arms, but in my struggle I push

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back on him. and I think I feel this loser’s dick
digging into my back like he’s getting some sick
pleasure out of this whole thing. The door opens to
a large room with more dark wood and red rugs; a
huge desk sits near the back where a man with
white hair and a white beard sits looking down at
something.

Darren pushes me forward but doesn’t let go of

my wrist. Instead, he kicks a chair around and
pushes me down into it. Someone must have
handed him duct tape because the next thing I
know, he’s taping my hands. I kick at him, hoping
to knee him in the face, but he soon captures each
foot and tapes me at the ankles to the legs of the
wooden chair. I growl a little in frustration and
defeat. He turns me to face the old man who still
sits silent at his desk, not even sparing us a glance.

The doors behind me close but still he stays

stoic, working on a tablet. It’s an eerie quiet, but if
I’m honest with myself, I’m terrified of what will
happen when he speaks so I stay quiet.

It feels like an hour has gone by when the door

swings open again and turning my head, I see the
two men that were outside the door hauling in none
other than Howard Stapleton. The man responsible
for destroying my life. His nose is bleeding, and he
has cuts and bruises everywhere I can see, but I
would recognize that potbellied bully anywhere.
His t-shirt is ripped, and he’s not wearing any

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shoes.

They tape him to the chair next to me, and his

head hangs down in defeat. I almost feel sorry for
him, but in all honesty, if I weren’t tired up, I would
still take a swing at him myself. Since I can’t quite
reach, I cock my head back and spit on the side of
his face. He doesn’t even move, and I wonder if
he’s conscious or not.

“Interesting way to say hello to your partner,

Ms. Turner.” The old man finally speaks, and I
recognize his voice from when he called me. With
this kind of manpower, I’m surprised he did it
himself.

I don’t know what he wants me to say so I keep

quiet, glaring daggers at him. Trying to act tougher
than I feel.

“Now that I have your attention, I expect you

to take me seriously. Howard here learned the hard
way and I’m hoping you are as smart as I think you
are,” he tells me while looking at me expectantly.
Again, I have no fucking clue what to say so I nod,
just agreeing.

“Good. Now, Mr. Stapleton, I am glad you have

decided to accept my invitation. I have had to look
extremely hard for you, and I am a very busy man.
Imagine my surprise to find you in California with
your partner in crime here.”

“What?” I ask and look to Howard for answers

and denial. He can at least try and help me out of

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this now, but I have no way of knowing if he can
hear us. Darren comes around and picks his head
up to face him by pulling his hair. He only coughs,
and I can’t tell if his eyes are open or not. Darren
starts yelling in his face, demanding answers until
the old man raises a hand.

“My friend here and his family have graciously

lent me their beautiful residence, and Darren has
been so helpful in tracking you both down. I
appreciate everything, but if you would excuse the
three of us, please,” he tells Darren and waves him
out of the room. I can tell the psycho doesn’t want
to leave and is enjoying the blood pooling at
Howard’s feet a little too much but he obeys. When
the door closes, the room is silent except for
Howard’s wheezing.

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28

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COLE

We pull up to the address from Roger’s phone, no
idea how he got it or how he does anything he does,
but I’m grateful. It’s an old historic house
surrounded by acres of trees and a tall iron gate.

“This is the plan, Cole. It’s a strong possibility

they know who you are, correct?” I nod to Roger as
he lays it out. “Good. We’ll use that against them.
You’re going to act hotheaded and start trying to
break in. Feel free to knock them around but be
sure they take you. Once you’re in, you’ll be
wearing this.”

He sticks a small black pin on the collar of my

black polo shirt.

“We’ll find a way in and turn shit upside down.

Get Lyla out, Cole. Do not get distracted and do
not stay to get revenge. Once you have her, get her
out as fast as you can, you hear me?”

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I nod, knowing he’s right and it’s the best plan.

I have to get a grip on my anger that’s threatening
to boil over.

“She may not even be here, and the last thing

we want is to officially be on the shit list of the
police and the mob. Play it smart. Once we know
this is the place, which we’ll know pretty quickly,
we make our move. You both ready for this? Now’s
your last chance to get out of this mess before it
gets worse.”

We both look to Marcus; I hate that he’s been

dragged into this and might get hurt, and I wouldn’t
judge him if he wanted out.

“No fucking way I’m leaving,” Marcus says,

gritting his teeth.

I nod and he opens the door for me. Pretending

I’m angry and losing my shit isn’t hard. I start
shouting as soon as I see the front gates. A large H
in gold is in the middle, and I wonder what king of
family could be going along with a kidnapping.

“Hey! Open up, motherfucker! You know why

I’m here! Come out and face me!”

I keep it up, yelling louder and louder but never

say Lyla’s name. Finally, two thugs dressed in head
to toe black come out of the house. As they get
closer, the gate starts to open, and I can’t help the
cocky grin that spreads across my face. If this was
anyone else, they would call the cops, but they
know exactly who I am and are playing right into

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our hand. I walk through the open gate quickly and
land a solid punch on the nose of the douchebag
still in sunglasses, even though the sun set hours
ago. The other guy, with a bald head, tries to grab
me from behind and pin my arms back. I let him but
buck the back of my head into his nose as hard as I
can. This unfortunately gives sunglasses enough
time to get in a solid hit to my ribs and even though
I’m no longer held back, I fall forward just enough
to meet his knee with my face. Fuck, that hurts.

I stumble a bit but stand just in time to kick the

little bald dude coming back for more but remind
myself I’m supposed to lose, and as gratifying as it
would be to knock these assholes out, they aren’t
who I really want to take down. I want Lyla safe
once and for all, and it’s clear these guys are only
hired help, so I take a few shots to my stomach and
one more to the face and finally let them trip me
and take me down.

They haul my ass into the house; it takes both

’cause I’m not about to make it easy for them. I act
like I’m spent and can’t keep my head up, all the
while taking in every room and hoping the small
camera I’m wearing is picking it up. We pass by a
kitchen, and I twist and push closer, acting like I’m
trying to fight them but really just wanting to see if
it has a door leading outside. I get us in the kitchen
and face the door I was looking for and land one
more punch to sunglasses and let them take me

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down again.

They drag me down a long wide hall and finally

make it to a set of double doors. They knock three
times, and I hear an old voice with a heavy accent
say come in.

As soon as the doors open, I see the back of

Lyla’s head and resist every urge in my body to
fight to get her. I stick to the plan, but it’s painful. I
know my face is bloody and I play the part. I act
weak and barely conscious and hope they believe
me until Marcus and Roger can make it inside. I
take a slow look around and notice another man in
the chair beside her. He looks like he’s half dead
and not pretending. He’s bloody and his eyes are
swollen shut. I hang my head down again and
notice two teeth on the floor by the man’s right
foot. The old man clears his throat, and I guess this
is the dismissal of the two thugs. They drop me the
ground and I lie there. They don’t leave the room
though and suddenly I hear a familiar voice. “Well,
well, well. Looks like someone’s sweetheart came
to rescue her. The question is how. How in the
world did you find this place?”

I look up weakly, to lock eyes with none other

than the greasy dude from the gym. Slicked-back
black hair and a red t-shirt. I let my head fall back
to the ground nice and hard for dramatics because
I’m not sure how to answer yet. He comes over to
me and pulls my hair. I can see Lyla’s sweet face

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looking at me with tears in her eyes, and she
screams.

“No! Stop it! Stop it you dumb fucker; just

stop!”

He drops my head and walks to her. I can see

now she’s been taped to the chair, it’s rocking with
her fit of anger. Probably for his own safety. Lyla
could easily take this preppy cocksucker.

My eyes drift to the man behind the desk, and

he watches the argument, and then the fucker
backhands my girl across the face. I grit my teeth
and squeeze my eyes shut. This will all be over
soon, and these men will pay dearly.

Lyla groans but I can tell it hurt her, and she’s

not giving him the satisfaction of more of a
reaction.

“You’re no longer in the position to be a stuck-

up bitch.” He spits down in her turned face, and
suddenly the doors open and gunfire erupts. The
coward runs around the desk, and I use this as my
chance and pop up to my knees and crawl to Lyla,
bringing her chair down and covering her with my
body. Chaos, as promised, fills the room. They stop
shooting and start throwing punches.

I pull at the tape which frees her hands and

feet, and we watch Marcus and Roger take on the
two bodyguards that brought me in. As predicted,
the wimpy pretty boy hits the ground hard and fast
when he runs up to Marcus and is taken down in

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one punch. Finally, I stand with Lyla in my arms
and look for the old man. He must be hiding under
the desk, but I promised Roger I would get her out
as fast as possible and leave the dirty work for him
to clean up. I keep her solidly pressed against me
under my arm and pull the pistol I have tucked in
my boot. We move to the wall and swiftly make it
out of the office as shots are fired once again. “We
can’t just leave Marcus in there.”

She stops in the hallway and looks up at me in

concern. My beautiful woman has bruises on her
cheek, chin, and a black eye blooming, and I know
it could have been so much worse. I take her face,
no longer able to keep my lips from hers and kiss
her like I almost lost her because I easily could
have. I step back and pull the pistol from my boot
and hand it to her. She smiles a sad smile at me, and
without another word we make it back to the
office.

We creep up quietly, each of us going to the

wall on either side of the door to peer in. The office
looks destroyed, and Marcus is pulling Roger over
his shoulder, and all three men lay bloody on the
floor around them. I rush to help Marcus as Lyla
covers us at the doorway. The old man and the guy
who was dying in the other chair seem to be gone.
We make it out of the house and into Roger’s SUV,
but he’s in bad shape. As soon as our doors are
closed, another black SUV with dark tinted

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windows speeds out of the driveway, screeching on
the cement as it takes the corner hard. Lyla jumps
in the front seat and shifts into drive.

“Lyla, what are you doing? We can’t go after

them; Roger has to go to the hospital!” Marcus
shouts at her, but I get it.

She won’t feel safe until the old man is brought

down. She knows as well as I do, he won’t stop
coming after her.

“I can’t go to the hospital. Get my phone for

me and keep going, Lyla,” Roger says, holding a
bleeding bullet wound on his hip. Marcus pulls it
out of the cupholder and hands it to him. He scrolls
for a while and hands it back to Marcus. “Say the
words ‘code red watermelon’ and tell Lyla the
address. Lyla, get close enough to read the plates
but not too close. Let’s get some help before we all
get arrested,” Roger says, panting, and I grab the
towel that’s on the floorboard and twist back to
press it on his side. He’s lying in the back seat, and
Marcus has the man’s head in his lap, looking lost
and angry that he can’t do more for a guy he just
met. He does as instructed, and Roger takes the
phone, dials a number, and hands it to me. I take it
and put it to my ear.

“Ready and waiting,” a man on the line says. I

tell him the code words while Lyla gets right up on
the other SUV, and I read the man the plates,
describe it, and tell him the street we’re on. We

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turn into traffic and keep the guy updated. Roger
finally says it’s enough information and we need to
head to the address location in the text messages. I
end the call and look. Only one of two messages
and one unread. I plug it into the GPS, and Lyla
turns off and follows the directions, groaning and
gritting her teeth. I know this is for the best, and
she would never let Roger die, but it’s hard for her
not to fight.

We drive back out of the city, and Roger seems

to be getting worse; the towel is completely red,
and the man’s face is ghost-white. Finally, we make
it to the address and pile out. An older man and
woman come running with a stretcher. Marcus and
I help get Roger on and into the backyard where
they have a small shack that looks dirty on the
outside but is perfectly sterile white on the inside.
She instructs us to pull the SUV into the garage we
parked in front of and take the red van inside and
forget this address. We look to Roger, and he nods
and salutes a goodbye that seems final.

“I’ll never forget this favor, my friend,” I say,

shaking his hand and leaving with Lyla tucked
under my arm and Marcus at my side.

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29

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LYLA

Making it back to town and to the safety of our
house, all three of us together seems surreal. The
drive is quiet except the sounds of the shitty van
Marcus is driving. Cole and I are in the far back
seat, staring at each other like we can’t believe any
of that just happened. I gently move his chin to see
the damage, but he just gives me that panty-melting
grin. He rubs mine with the back of his rough and
bloody knuckles, and I wince, not nearly as tough
as he is. Even my teeth hurt, and I have a pounding
headache. He pulls me close, and I snuggle in for
the ride.

Finally, Marcus parks in Cole’s spot in the

garage, and I ask where his truck is.

“It’s at the fake job site,” he says, exhausted.
The sun is coming up as we close the garage

door and make it inside. As tired as we all are, we

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find ourselves gathering at the island counter.
Marcus takes me in his arms, in a monster bear hug,
and I break down. I cry for the friend I’ve missed
so much; I cry because I’ve been so scared; I cry
for the pain in my face and because I want this to
be over.

Finally, my sobs slow down, and he sits back

down with an earnest look on his face.

“Listen, I’ve taken time to deal with the

traumatic experience I walked into…and I mean
the scene in the kitchen that’s burned into my brain
forever and haunts my dreams, not the fucked-up
shit we just took care of tonight.”

I laugh, a little in shock of how casual he’s

being about the violence he just went through, and
wipe at the tears still running down my face. He
smiles and I lean back into Cole who buries his face
into my neck and wraps his arms around me,
engulfing me with his massive arms.

“I get it now though. The two of you aren’t

what I assumed you were to each other. I should
have listened when you both kept reaching out, but
I was too busy distracting myself from it with work.
When I listened to your voicemail, Lyla, I was
ready to fucking kill Cole. Even though I know
better, I thought he was somehow hurting you. I’m
sorry I became such a dick, man. Lyla, I just feel so
protective of you and for someone else to step in, I
guess made me feel like you didn’t need me

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anymore. I can see now I was mistaken. After
tonight, I will officially feel like both of you crazy
kids still need me.”

He grins at us like he’s glad he was wrong and

is happy for us, so of course I start crying again,
and he hugs me, covering Cole’s arms, and it’s like
a big family hug. Of forgiveness, of love, and of
family that’s always here for each other.

Before it gets too awkward, the guys both pull

back. We talk about what happened, and I make
some buckwheat pancakes. It has never felt so
good to cook. Not overpriced dishes for stuck-up
Chicago critics but for my family. For two men who
love me and who I could not live without.

“Alright, pussies. I’ve had about enough of this

mushy bonding shit; I’m going upstairs to my own
bed and crashing for at least the day. I better not
wake up to the sounds of you fucking or so help me
I will come barge in and literally throw a bucket of
water on you both.”

He gives us both a side-eye, and we can’t help

but laugh. He hugs us both and heads upstairs, and
Cole and I clean up the kitchen a little and head to
our room. We take a quick shower to wash off the
blood and dirt, and I’m overwhelmed with how
grateful I feel to be in Cole’s clean t-shirt. Lying in
bed, warm and comfortable, feels weird. Just hours
ago, I thought I might never see this bed again,
never lie next to this man I love, and then I

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remember. As much as I feel it, I’ve been too
scared to tell him I love him.

I’m too tired and I’ve officially been through

too much to hold back though. I look deep into his
eyes as we get comfortable in each other’s arms,
and as soon as I clear my throat, I hear my words
before I say them.

“I love you,” Cole says, brushing my hair back

and cupping my cheek.

I laugh sob; seriously, I don’t know what that

was that came out of my mouth, but before I can
overthink anything, I tell him, “I love you, Cole. I
love you so much.”

A small tear runs down my face, but this time

it’s because I’m happy. I am so happy to be home
and in his arms right now my heart hurts. I see his
big smile right before our lips meet, and this kiss is
officially the greatest kiss of my entire life.

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30

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COLE

I sleep restlessly, waking to check on Lyla every
hour. Finally, around five I get up. I kiss her, the
love of my life, on the forehead, and as gently as
possible pull my arm from under her head,
impressed I managed not to wake her, though she
must be exhausted from everything she’s been
through. I grab my cell phone off the charger and
shoot a text out to Jack. He held down all the
different sites I have working around the city, and
the man deserves a raise, one I will gladly be giving
him.

Downstairs, I find Marcus and notice two large

suitcases by the door. “Dude, what the fuck?”

I look at him like he’s lost his fucking mind. We

literally just got back together. I mean made up and
talked out our differences. Fuck, I feel like a pussy
now. He starts laughing as he hands me a cup of

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coffee.

“Here, it’s Irish enjoy.” Then he turns back to

the coffee pot. I take a sip of the hot, mostly
whiskey coffee and take a seat. He’s cooking
something that smells great.

“I needed carbs and alcohol, dude. I don’t

know when I’ll get over last night. That’s not why
my bags are packed though. I’m good with
everything as long as we got Lyla, and I’m truly
happy for you both, but the truth is I don’t think I
could stomach walking in on you two again and
before you say anything…” He stops me with my
mouth still hanging open, and we hear Lyla coming
down the stairs. I look and see the most beautiful
sight. Hair in every direction, black mascara
circling her eyes like a racoon, and dressed in
sweatpants and my t-shirt. I smile and let her take
my spot at the island. She kisses my cheek, and I go
after more coffee.

“Yeah, like I was telling your adoring man here.

I’m moving out and letting you lovebirds have your
nest for all the freaky kitchen and wherever sex
you want,” Marcus says as he puts a plate of
spaghetti in front of her.

“What? You’re moving out? You can’t move

out; we just made up.”

Her reaction makes me laugh. Funny how I

thought the exact words she says.

“Lyla, you and Cole deserve to have your own

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place, and it’s his anyway. Plus, I would get at least
twenty more minutes of sleep if I just moved into
the apartments above the studio full time. Charlie’s
already living in one, and I’m about to sign a band
that will fill out the other apartments. They need a
lot of managing, and I’ll be in the recording studio
with them almost full time anyway. It just makes
sense, babe. I’m not mad or pouting anymore; I
promise,” he says and seems to leave my girl
speechless.

“But…” We both laugh at her cute pouty face.

“What do you mean it’s Cole’s anyway?”

“Well, he meant I own the building, my love,” I

say easily and sip my coffee. I notice the smile that
stretches on Marcus’ face then enjoy the sight of
her mouth wide open. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No. You definitely didn’t mention you own an

entire apartment building.”

“This is only one of many, sweetheart,” Marcus

says, laughing hysterically, and Lyla is just staring
at me dumbfounded. “Your lover boy here owns
most of San Diego at this point,” he tells her as I
shrug and continue to drink my spiked coffee.

We eat and drink and tell jokes, and Marcus

continues to tell her all about my money that I
never thought was a big deal. I don’t think she does
either, but it still surprises her. I love that about her.
I love everything about her. A couple hours later I
get a call from Roger. I immediately pick up and

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put it on speaker. “Roger, brother, how the hell are
you?”

“Good, my friend, thank you. Wanted you to

know your truck is back in your garage, and you
don’t have to worry about that van. Also, and more
importantly, turn the local news on, right now.”

Lyla walks over and grabs the remote, powering

on the large TV we can easily see from the kitchen.
We listen to the news reporter.

“In tonight’s spotlight story, a mob boss has

been taken to jail on several counts including
money laundering, embezzlement, illegal
international trading, drug charges, and murder.
Seventy-five-year-old Anthony Moretti, a man
notorious for staying just out of reach of the FBI,
has finally been arrested. Local enforcement
officers were on the scene to help take in the man,
as well as his driver who will be charged with
similar charges. Most surprising is San Diego’s
own Darren Henry is also in police custody. The
famous local bachelor was found unconscious at
his family’s estate with two of Moretti’s men and a
large amount of cocaine, the exact amount has not
yet been released. Moretti has also been linked to
crimes in Chicago and was found with the body of
America’s most wanted Howard Stapleton. More on
his story tonight at ten.”

“Thought your girl would appreciate that bit of

news. Have a great night, Cole.” Without a word

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from me he’s gone. Lyla turns the TV off and
smiles from ear to ear.

“Feel better, baby?” I ask, and she nods.
“I won’t lie. I didn’t sleep much even though I

was dead tired, but I had nightmares when I did nod
off, so I feel a hell of a lot better knowing those
men are going away.”

“Same here.”
“Same,” Marcus says and stands. “So, do you

two think you’d be okay if I went over to the
studio? I need more sleep, but I’m still crazy busy
and have edits to do as soon as possible.”

I get a nod from Lyla.
“Yeah, man, we understand and appreciate it.

Next family dinner, though, we are totally making
out in front of you,” I joke and shake his hand as I
slap him on the back, embracing for a long feelings-
packed bro hug.

Lyla gets up, and they hug for a long while. I

would be jealous if it were anyone else, but I’m so
fucking happy they have their friendship back. My
shoulders feel lighter, and I know it’s been weighing
on me.

He leaves and without a word I take my woman

upstairs. I undress her without a word and pull her
into the steaming hot shower. I take her head in my
hands and help the water wash the makeup from
under her eyes. She holds my hands there gently as
she closes her eyes. I kiss her forehead and hold her

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for several long minutes. When the water starts to
run cold, we go to bed relieved, and sleep without
nightmares haunting us. Instead, we’re back in our
bubble, safe, just the two of us, in love, and all is
right with the world.

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31

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LYLA

The heavy beats of Nickelback fill the bathroom as
I finish getting ready. If Cole were in here, he
would make me change it and call them names, but
I can’t help but to swing my hips, feeling like a
crazy badass stripper. I should probably mention
that to him. I bet he would start listening to them a
lot more. I laugh out loud as Cole comes in.

“What’s so funny, hot stuff?”
I laugh more at the nickname and shrug,

keeping my secret for later when we have more
time to put my moves to work.

Tonight, we’re celebrating the official opening

of Kraze, my now good friend, Chef Dane
Carmichael’s grand opening of what’s sure to be
San Diego’s next top restaurant. Cole has organized
a big fancy family dinner to celebrate with
everyone. He kisses me and simultaneously turns

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off my music.

“You about ready to go? I told the gang we

would be there at six.”

“Yep, ready to roll, my love.”
I slap his fine, firm ass and turn on my heel,

heading for the door. He scoops me up and makes
me squeal in laughter.

It’s been a little over a month since the Moretti

chaos, and we’ve healed and managed to find a
semblance of normal. The police never found out
we were involved, and Roger let us know Anthony
Moretti and Darren Henry were not able to pay
their way out of the charges and will both be
serving a lifetime sentence for the murders of
Howard and Cathy.

On an even happier note, Marcus did move to

the studio but having the apartment to ourselves
has made Cole and I practically nudists. It’s fun and
crazy, and I’ve never felt so safe, loved, and free to
be myself.

W

HEN

WE

GET

TO

K

RAZE

, Cole pulls the iron door

open for me, and I pick up my long light-blue dress
and step inside.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he says,

bending down and kissing my shoulder as we wait

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for the hostess.

“Thank you.” I grin up at him and just before

his lips touch mine, I hear her clear her throat. I
reluctantly turn from him and face Lisa, her name
tag says.

“Hello. Do you have a reservation this

evening?”

“Yes, Under Waterson, party of ten.”
“Oh yes, our first VIP diners. Right this way,”

she says with a big grin for Cole and ushers us to
the back of the restaurant and up the stairs in a
narrow staircase. Once we reach the top, my mouth
drops. The double doors open to a rooftop lounge,
with cascading lights, lots of flowers and green
plants, a private bar, one large table, and a huge
wraparound couch. Stepping forward, we walk up
to the bar and I notice the soft music playing is “All
My Loving” by The Beatles, and I smile knowingly
up at Cole as he pulls out the bar stool for me, then
I get that kiss. Hot and searing and over much too
quickly. We order whiskey, mine with lots of rocks,
and wait for everyone to start arriving.

Charlie is the first to join us at the bar, and she

gives us both a hug and picks up the drink menu.

“What is a Black Velvet?” she asks the

bartender who’s been too busy checking her out to
register that she asked him something. He’s still
drying the same glass when she looks up to him.

“I’m sorry, what?” the poor guy stutters, and

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I’m mortified to watch Charlie hide behind the
menu and mumble, “Never mind.”

The guy clears his throat and moves down the

long bar even though we are the only people out
here.

“What the hell was that?” I ask her,

dumbfounded.

“What was what?”
“Give me this,” I say, taking the menu she’s

trying to hide behind and stare at her expectantly,
but she just stares back.

“Charlie, that guy was totally into you. Why

hide?” I raise an eyebrow but know exactly why.

“He was not; now let me get a darn drink.” She

grabs the menu back, but I don’t drop the subject.
Instead, I lean near her ear so only she can hear
me.

“Just because one man made you feel bad

about yourself does not mean you’re not a total
badass babe who is wanted.”

She swallows hard and nods, not saying

anything. It breaks my heart she can’t see how
awesome she is. I can only pray one day God will
send her the right man because if it’s left to her,
she’ll be a crazy old, lonely cat lady, but instead of
cats it’ll be records.

Marcus comes up and hugs her from behind,

saving her from the conversation. Harmony runs in,
and Cole picks her up and swings her around, and

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Grace comes to give me a small hug.

“Hey, Lyla, how are you doing?” I know what

she really means. I haven’t talked much about what
happened, and this is sweet Grace’s way of letting
me know she cares.

“I’m good. Thank you for asking,” I say,

meaning it as I hug her back.

“Hey, Grace, they have Absinthe,” Marcus

says, grinning his cocky smile, and Grace turns beet
red and shakes her head at him.

Before I can ask what that’s all about, Mason

and Willow come up the stairs and he lets out a
loud whistle of his appreciation of the place as she
stands there with her mouth hanging open. The
place is impressive; I get it. They join us at the bar
and order drinks, then shortly after, Nora and
Declan join us and we all head to the gorgeous
table.

White tablecloth, gold plates with matching

silverware and dark-green napkins and beautiful
eucalyptus running through the middle of the long
table. We don’t order anything because Dane and
Cole already set everything up, down to the last
detail, so we all relax and chat, catching up on the
details of our friends’ lives. I’m especially thrilled
to have Marcus’ parents with us. We all listen
enthralled about how great Harmony is doing in
school and dance class. Mason has started a fling
with Simone, and Charlie and Marcus have set up

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the other apartments that are above the studio for a
new band his label Empire 39 has officially signed
and will be moving here within the month.

“To celebrate the studio’s success with

Simone’s album going platinum and the signing of
Headspace, this is for you, Lyla, and don’t try to
give it back because it’s technically already back
into your account.”

His shit-eating grin makes me cock my head in

confusion, but I take the envelope as he goes on.

“I’m also hosting a huge masquerade ball, and

you’re all invited. Lots of snotty socialites and
celebrities will be there, but I promise it’ll be fun.”
Lowering his voice, he says, “Charlie, I made
masks required just for you so I don’t want any
excuses why you can’t or more accurately why you
won’t come. I will drag you there myself if I have
to.”

I watch her smirk at him but know she’ll try her

hardest to get out of it. My poor, sweet, fucking
gorgeous best friend is the shyest person I know,
and secretly I wish what happened to her dad
would have happened sooner. I look down and pull
out the paper from the envelope and freeze, slack-
jawed and ready to cry. A deposit slip of the 1.5
million dollars, the exact amount I gave Marcus
years ago, has been deposited into my account.

“Holy shit, Marcus.”
I peer at him with tears in my eyes that I’m

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trying so hard to hold in. He comes around the
table, and I get up. We hug and the table claps for
some reason. I hear cheers of “congratulations on
both your successes” and “So proud of you” along
with “Holy cow” from Willow I think, who must
have just seen the slip sitting on the table. We pull
apart and sit back down. I wipe my cheek and turn
to Cole. “Did you know about this?”

He looks guilty as hell but shakes his head,

smiling like the Cheshire cat. I still lost most of my
money when the scandal hit. I also had to deal with
the IRS to be cleared of any money laundering I
might have been involved in, which I was not at all,
so it wrapped up pretty fast. They let me have my
condo, which I sold along with my beloved
restaurant. It was hard to sign on that dotted line,
but I knew it was for the best. Cole, Marcus, and
even his dad Declan helped me move everything
back to San Diego, and I’ve continued to work side
by side with Cole. I love it, I do, but I’d be lying if I
said I didn’t miss cooking more, which has come as
a surprise.

Dane comes out with his team of servers all

dressed in black. They bring carts around and place
covered dishes in front of us.

“Hello, everyone. As many of you know, I’m

the owner and head chef here at Kraze. As good
friends of Cole and Lyla, I wanted to personally say
hello and thank you all so much for choosing my

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restaurant for your family dinner this evening. As
my servers come around you, they will lift your
covers.” Everyone sits back as the covers come off
the dishes and the aromas all waft in our faces.

“I do hope it’s all to your liking and especially

yours, Lyla, seeing how they are all your recipes.”

My head shoots to Dane, and he’s grinning

knowingly at me.

“Tonight only, I’ve prepared some of Lyla

Turner’s most famous and popular dishes. These
items aren’t found on my menu and were only
trusted to me because I’ve had the pleasure of
becoming friends with her and Cole.”

I look to Cole and he gives me a cocky smile

with love and hope in his eyes. I laugh, loving it and
wanting him to know it. I feel him relax as I press
my lips to his cheek and whisper “Thank you” in
his ear.

Dane goes around and introduces my dishes to

everyone, since everyone got something different.
Even Harmony, who doesn’t wait before she digs
in, loving her fancy mac and cheese with bacon and
smoked pulled pork. Everyone moans at first bite,
and I nod and smile my approval to Dane who
slowly retreats downstairs with his servers.

The evening is a huge success, and we laugh

and eat some great food all while spending quality
time together. Finally, everyone cheers to a
wonderful night with amazing friends, and we

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finally say goodbye.

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EPILOGUE

COLE

My palms are starting to sweat as we say good
night to everyone. I haven’t been nervous up until
this moment, knowing all my planning is coming
into full swing. The night has been perfect. Dane
did an incredible job with dinner, and the rooftop
lounge was ideal. Everyone is on the same page,
and no one ordered dessert. I whispered in Lyla’s
ear about a dessert place I wanted to take her to, so
she didn’t order anything either. Marcus gives me
the nod as we head out.

“Would you like to walk? It’s not far from

here,” I ask as she takes my sweaty palm. I yank it
out of her soft hand and wipe them both down my
thighs with a light laugh, then take her hand in mine
and pull her close.

“Sure. It’s a beautiful night, why not.” She

smiles up at me.

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About a block into our brisk evening stroll, I

ask her, “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“Of course, I do. How could I ever forget?

Even half asleep my jaw hit the floor as soon as I
saw you in all your herculean glory.”

“I remember seeing you. You walked in wearing

a tight fucking skirt I wanted to rip off immediately,
and I think the chemistry between us clogged up
the room because Marcus immediately put his foot
down.” I laugh at the memory and even with how
hard the months without him were, it’s all pretty
fucking comical now. He constantly tells jokes
about how he walked in on us but still seems to be
happy with how it worked out. Tonight wouldn’t
have been possible without his blessing.

“Yes, dad got very mad almost immediately. I

think it was obvious then how much we wanted
each other, and we shouldn’t have tried to fight it.”
She grins with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Oh, are you referring to when I bolted after we

discovering how phenomenal you tasted, and then
you made me feel like an idiot adolescent and
coincidently about to blow a load at the family
dinner table at the mention of honey? Is that what
you mean?”

“Yeah, that’s about right.” She laughs hard at

that and squeezes into my side tighter, so I put my
arm around her and kiss the top of her head.

We walk for a few blocks. The sun’s already

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set, and a cool breeze blows up off the ocean and
into the city. The night is perfect and hopefully one
I’m going to remember the rest of my life. The ice
cream shop is in view, and I point it out to her. She
assures me she’s never eaten here, and I’m relieved
because we’ve gotten very close to our actual
destination. When I grab her hand again and yank
her across the street, she makes a squeaking sound
of surprise but runs along with me. We run around
the corner and stop in front of a closed shop with
the sold sign hanging in front.

“Oh my gosh,” she says in awe. “Do you know

what this place is?” she asks me, walking up to look
through the window. The door is unlocked so I turn
the handle and hold the door open until she notices.

“What did you do?” she asks with a tilted smile.
I shrug and lift my hand, ushering her in. She

goes in happily and searches for a light in the dark
room that’s mostly covered in dust and old sheets. I
grab the two lanterns I stuck by the door and turn
them on. “Over here.” I walk over to the small
picnic I have set up. It’s not much and nowhere
near as good of a dessert that she could have gotten
at Kraze, but hopefully she’ll still like it.

“This looks amazing, but you do know where

we are, right? So, what did you do?”

I open the basket Willow packed for me earlier

and set out the ice cream bowls, glasses, honey, and
whiskey. Then I reach in for the ice cream as she

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finally sits down on the blanket beside me. I dish
out the ice cream, and she takes a look around the
broken-down dusty room.

“I love this place, Cole. I’m really happy you

brought me here. I didn’t even know it was empty.
Does Marcus?”

“Yeah, Marcus knows the owner.”
“He doesn’t own it? Who does?”
“You do.”
“What?”
Her eyes looked ready to bulge out of her head,

her adorable shocked face completely priceless. I
reach into my pocket and pull out the keys, take
her hand in mine, and place them in her palm and
cover them.

“This beat-down old record store is all yours,

Lyla. To make many more great memories in.”

She stares at me speechless, and her mouth is

still hanging open. It’s really fucking cute.

Finally, after the quiet has stretched, she starts

to blink and stutter. “But this place should belong
to Marcus. Record 39 was his mom and dad’s pride
and joy, at least at one time.”

“I’ve spoken to them, and they are happy the

place will be in loving hands. It hasn’t belonged to
the family for a few years, and it’s pretty worn
down as you can see. That only means you can
make it whatever you want. A restaurant, a retail
boutique, an art gallery if that’s what you want, but,

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Lyla, it’s all yours.”

“You bought me a building?” she asks with

tears now shining in her eyes.

“I did.” I take her face in my hands and kiss her

lips gently. “I love you, Lyla, and I want all your
dreams to come true, and I’m hoping you’ll be a
part of making mine come true.”

“I would do anything for you, Cole. Thank you

for this extremely generous gift that I will never
know how to repay. How can I make your dreams
come true? Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”

“Marry me?” I ask and pull the small box out

from under the nearby covered table.

“Wha—” She doesn’t finish but covers her

mouth in shock.

“My dream is life with you by my side. I don’t

care about all the buildings I own or what my bank
account says; you are my life, Lyla. Make me the
happiest man alive and be my wife?”

She sputters a small cry and soon nods

frantically, saying yes over and over and kissing
me. My lips, my chin, my cheeks, and my forehead.
Soon she’s in my lap, straddling me, and I laugh a
little, trying not to cry because I know my girl and
she would call me out. I slip the ring out of the box
and onto her finger. It’s the perfect size thanks to
Charlie’s help, and the large oval diamond looks
perfect on her long slim finger.

“I want nothing more than to become your

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wife. I love you, baby.”

She kisses me softly this time and slowly. Soon

she’s pushing her tongue in, and I’m laying us
down, forgetting the rest of the plan. A knock on
the glass door makes us jump apart, and Marcus,
his parents, Grace, Harmony, Charlie, Mason, and
Willow all come in yelling and clapping. She looks
to me smiling, and we sit up, laughing at ourselves.

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THANK YOU!

Dearest Reader,

Thank you so much for taking a chance on me

and my very first novel. If you liked it, please
consider leaving a review so I can keep publishing
more steamy stories. I hope you loved reading it as
much as I’ve adored writing it. Lyla, Charlie and
Marcus have been in my head with so many
adventures wanted to come out and you’ll be happy
to know there is so much more to come. Cole and
Lyla were in insta-lust but that soon turned to love
before the two even realized it. They maybe the
beginning of the series but I’ve got so much more in
store for you starting with the prequel that started it
all with Nora and Declan. If you remember they are
Marcus’s parents and they have a story all their
own in Rum & Records. If you would like to read
this short novella for free be sure to sign up for my

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newsletter and I’ll send it right over.

Book Two in the Empire Records Series will

have our sweet shy Charlie turning into a whole
new woman with a hot Rockstar that shakes the
ground beneath her introverted world in Black
Velvet & Lace.

Book Three, Vodka & Pop Rocks will have our

spunky Willow making deals with her mouth that
her body can’t seem to fight…find out all the
details and more in my reader group Heather
Lauren’s Love Lounge (Facebook)

Book Four will be the last book of the Empire

Series and will have our beloved Marcus realizing
things about his past that will alter his future
forever in Absinthe & Heart.

If you have a quick moment I would greatly

appreciate if you would consider leaving a review
on Amazon to help me better my craft as well as
reach more awesome readers like yourself.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart,
Heather Lauren

Sign up for my newsletter so you don’t miss any

juicy details:

https://www.subscribepage.com/x2f7s1

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Heather is a mom of three who loves coffee, tacos and a good
adult beverage. In that order. She spends her extra time
reading steamy romance whenever she’s not writing it. Her
family means everything to her, and she credits her inspiration
to her adoring future husband. They live in sunny Arizona with
a fluffy husky names Nico and love to find adventure whenever
possible.

www.heatherlaurenbooks.com

CONNECT WITH HEATHER ONLINE:

Facebook reader group:

Heather Lauren’s Love Story Lounge

Email:

AuthorheatherLauren@gmail.com

Newsletter:

Click to subscribe.


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