“You must think our office is poorly run.”

  “Not at all. I’m impressed by how much you’re able to do with such a small staff.”

  “My dad liked to keep it small. He liked to run things tight, like a military team. Strategic. I thought I could do better than him because I actually was on a strategic military team.”

  His eyes move past me, out the window, and I study the strong lines of his face, his square jaw and perfect nose. He’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning. I want to wrap my arms around him, but I’m afraid that would be going too far.

  Instead, I place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you close with your dad?”

  Dark eyes flicker to mine. “Not really. He expected me to run the business just like he did.”

  “How was that?”

  “Focus on Nashville. Keep it small, a boutique service. Keep the money coming in.” His voice turns dry at the end.

  “Seems like you’ve done the last part.”

  “I’ve spread us thin with this expansion. It should pay off in a big way… If this doesn’t break us.” He reaches up to scrub his face, and I feel such sadness rolling off him.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No.” He turns to the wall, opening a portrait that hides a safe.

  I step away while he enters the code, walking to the window and looking out. “Can you tell me what happened with Marley?”

  The noise of clicking and papers shuffling meets my ears. I look up to see him pushing that envelope inside and closing the metal door. He spins the lock and closes the portrait over it.

  “I’ve spent all night and all day keeping it out of the papers.” His tone is bitter. “The last thing we need is this getting out now. We haven’t even contacted Hastings and Key.”

  “Actually, we did. I sent them an email this morning and copied you and Taron on it. I haven’t checked for a reply, but—”

  “What did you say?” He goes to his desk and slides his fingers across the keypad.

  My stomach is tight, and I wish I’d checked my emails before telling him what I did. As it stands…

  He’s silent, eyes focused on the screen, brow lowered. I feel like I’m dying when his expression doesn’t change. Finally, he cuts his eyes up at me. “They’re onboard.”

  I exhale loudly. Oh, thank God. “So that’s one good thing?”

  The muscle in his jaw moves, and I’m afraid he’s pissed. “He intentionally overdosed. He wanted to die because he couldn’t stop the memories.” His voice grows rough again. “Now they’re placing him in a 72-hour lockdown. We can’t see him or talk to him. It’ll be like he’s right back there…”

  His voice trails off, and his gaze going to some distant memory, far away. I go to him, putting my hand on his arm. “You need rest. Let me take you home.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You can’t do anything else. If they’ve put him in lockdown, all you can do is wait.”

  He hesitates. I think he’s going to tell me no, but when our eyes meet, he takes my hand.

  18

  Patton

  Raquel moves around my apartment like she lives here. She goes into the kitchen and pulls down two tumblers, pouring us each a shot of scotch. Thunder rumbles outside the window, and the rain starts.

  “Rain feels good during tough times.” She holds her glass, looking out the closed balcony doors. “Makes me feel like I’m not alone in my suffering.”

  She’s wearing slim blue pants and a striped blue button-up shirt. It’s the first time I’ve really looked at her since she found me in my office losing my shit. As always, she’s stunning with that long, dark hair and blue eyes.

  Last night was long and hard. Taron and I went to the ER and waited… and waited. Taron stayed as long as he could, but by 2 a.m., his back was giving him too much grief. I sent him home and stayed until the doctors came out and told me Marley didn’t seem to have any long-term damage. In view of the circumstances, his past honors and his treatment history—and with a lot of urging on my part—they agreed not to press charges.

  It’s fucked up to get arrested after attempting to kill yourself, but I get it. He broke the law. He’s not supposed to have fucking heroin. I’m not sure whether to be glad or concerned over what he did. I’m glad because the Narcan was able to bring him back.

  The problem is I know how Taron struggled to get off that shit, and he wanted to get off it bad. Marley has no such desire.

  Raquel returns to where I’m sitting at the bar watching her, and I realize what she just said. “When were you suffering?”

  I don’t know if she’s exaggerating, referencing a broken heart or a missed date, or if she’s really had to face hardship in her life. I know she told me she was one of the poor kids growing up, but the way she talks about being at the beach and her sister makes me think they were close…

  Another reason I should send her home tonight.

  “Oh, you know.” She says it through an exhale, taking another, longer sip of scotch. “After my parents were killed things were hard for a long time… I think it’s why Renée had her breakdown.”

  My eyes squeeze shut. “Your parents were killed?”

  “In a car accident. It was a long time ago now, but I don’t think you ever get over that kind of loss. So sudden…”

  “I’m sorry.” It’s the best I can do at this point.

  She blinks up to me, her blue eyes so concerned. Her hair is over one shoulder, rippling in waves over her breast. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than bury my face in it and forget all this shit.

  “I guess I should go.”

  “Yeah.” I can’t stop her.

  Only she moves the wrong way.

  She closes the space between us and hugs me, wrapping her slim arms around my waist and resting her cheek against my chest. She feels so warm and caring, it’s like a sharp knife to my insides. This simple act of comfort cracks the wall I’ve erected around my feelings. I lift my arms, wrapping them around her and exhale deeply. Fuck, she feels so good.

  Holding her unclenches the fist of frustration at leaving my friend in the hands of strangers. The soft scent of her hair cools my rage at him for putting us in this situation. I’ve done everything in my power to protect him from outsiders, others, himself. Failure is not a concept I have a lot of experience with.

  Now this beautiful woman is holding me, caring for me, and I don’t understand it. I don’t want to let her go.

  She lifts her head, and her eyes are heated, vulnerable. “I wish I could stay. You were right when you said it’s not a good idea.”

  “I could still fire you.”

  “You don’t have a reason.”

  “Tennessee is an at-will state.”

  A hint of a smile curls her lips, and she reaches up to slide a finger along the side of my hair. “Then I guess it’s your call.”

  Releasing her, I step back, turning to the bar. I think she knows how valuable she is. “Thank you for this, for coming here. I’ll be in the office in the morning.”

  “Tomorrow’s Thursday.” Her voice is thoughtful. “You should take a long weekend.”

  “I’d rather be working. Dubai needs to keep moving forward…”

  “We’re in the perfect position to hit pause. We just landed our backer, we closed three deals… Tell Dubai you had a family emergency. It’s not a lie.”

  She moves closer, beside me at the bar, and I look at her small hand beside mine. It’s so slim and delicate, yet she’s such a fighter. “My parents have a lodge in Pigeon Forge I haven’t been to in years. We used to go there when I was a kid. It’s in the woods. There’s a waterfall leading down to a small creek.”

  “It sounds lovely. You should go there.”

  Looking up, our eyes meet. “Go with me. I’ll close the office. Sandra can set up outgoing messages.”

  Her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. “I’d love to go with you, but—”

  “Then it’s settled. We’ll go tonight.”

  “What about this being a bad idea?”

  I reach out and pull her to me again. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t know if it’s a good idea or a bad one. I just know it’s right, and you know it, too. We’ll sort out the rest when we come back.”

  19

  Raquel

  Being in Patton’s arms makes me forget my good intentions. His perfect hands hold me, and I can’t say no. He’s in pain, emotions raw in his eyes, and my heart aches for the brokenness I see there.

  “I messaged Sandra. The office is closed for the rest of the week.” He stands in the doorway to my bedroom watching me pack, and I feel self-conscious.

  “I don’t have a grand view of downtown Nashville. Just that.” I point to the tiny little balcony overlooking the parking lot.

  He steps to it. “One of your neighbors left their lights on.”

  “How do you know it’s one of my neighbors?” I tease.

  “I was wrong. They went out.” He steps back and taps on his phone. “I messaged ahead to the property manager letting him know we arrive tonight. They should have it stocked when we get there. Any special requests?”

  “I don’t think so. You’ll have coffee?”

  “Of course.”

  “Wine?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Those are the main things.”

  He assures me that by closing down the office, we’ll avoid the rumor mill—as if that’s the only thing I have to worry about. Patton Fletcher is a white-hot coal of fire that’s destined to burn me up, but I can’t stop touching him.

  “I’ve never been to a cabin in the mountains. I’ve never even been to the mountains.” I’m standing in front of my closet. “What should I pack?”

  He steps up behind me. “Those skirts are good. Any short dresses you have. Heels…”

  “Oh, really? Short skirts and heels for climbing up and down mountains? Tramping around in the woods?”

  “Throw in a pair of tennis shoes for hiking.”

  I shake my head, packing jeans, leggings, and one skirt. We’re only going to be gone a few days. Once I’m done, he takes my suitcase and carries it out to his waiting BMW.

  “What did you tell Taron?”

  His jaw tightens attractively. “I haven’t been able to get in touch with him. I’ll keep trying.”

  “Are you worried about him?”

  “Something’s going on with him, but I’m not worried. Taron’s never been a loose cannon. He’ll do what he needs to do.”

  Following him out to the car, I quickly type a text to Renée. Going out of town for a few days. Will text Sunday. Love you.

  She won’t call, and I decide I’d rather say sorry than get permission.

  When I look up, Patton reaches for my hand. I give it to him, and he threads warm fingers through mine. It feels so good. Our connection is so real. I don’t know why I feel like I can trust him, but I do.

  Three hours later, we’re pulling onto a four-lane highway with pancake restaurants on every corner in the middle of straight-up mountains.

  Looking out the window, I pretend to be thoughtful. “You know what I wish I could have right about now?”

  Patton is focused on the road. “A bed?”

  “Pancakes!”

  His brow lowers, and I grin, pointing out the window. “Oh, look!”

  The corner of his mouth curls into a grin and he shakes his head. “Do you really want pancakes?”

  “Maybe tomorrow.” I really want him, and my heart beats faster the closer we get to his cabin. My stomach is tight, and I rub my thighs together.

  We turn off the main highway onto a narrow, two-lane road that seems to go straight up. After a few minutes, he turns again, into a short driveway below a giant cabin.

  “Is this it?” I look up at the massive structure. “It’s enormous!”

  He squints, looking up at it from where he’s getting our luggage out of the trunk. “It’s about standard for the area.”

  I follow him up the wooden stairs to a wrap-around porch overlooking the tops of trees. The air is a bit cooler than it was when we left Nashville, and being after Labor Day, the tourist season is over. It’s dark and quiet, but I can see the lights of the small town below. I can only imagine it’s gorgeous when the sun comes up over the hills. It’s impressive now.

  The door opens, and I turn, following him into a massive great room with yellow pine floors, walls, and ceilings. The whole place smells like fresh-cut timber.

  “This is amazing!” I step inside, looking up and around.

  A wall of windows is in front of me, stretching up to a point that follows the line of the ceiling. The room is furnished with a brown leather couch and matching armchair with ottoman, and what looks like a section from a huge tree trunk sits on a sisal rug in the center of the room.

  “Why don’t you ever come here? I think I’d be here every weekend if it were mine.”

  “I guess after a while you get tired of it.” He’s in the kitchen inspecting the contents of the cabinets. A welcome basket is on the counter, and he takes a bottle of wine out of it and puts it in the fridge. “Or tired of the drive.”

  “I don’t know… It would take me a long time to get tired of this.”

  I walk over to a yellow pine door and open it. Inside is a large bedroom with a king sized bed against the wall. A giant flat screen television is across from it, and another door is off to the side. I walk through and open it to find a modern bathroom with beige travertine tile and a Jacuzzi tub against the wall.

  My lip goes between my teeth, and I imagine us in it, our bodies wet and sliding together. I’m here with him, alone… It’s going to happen, and it sets my insides humming.

  I jump almost a foot when he speaks from behind me. “Glass of wine?”

  Turning, I see a hint of amusement in his eyes. He’s holding two glasses of sparkling pink rosé, and I take one and take a sip. It’s cool and slightly crisp.

  “This is good.”

  He places a hand on my waist, pulling me closer to him. “I’m glad you thought of this.” Leaning closer, he hesitates just above my mouth. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.” I lift my chin, and our eyes meet.

  Chemistry flares between us, and he presses warm lips to mine, melting my insides. I reach out blindly to set my glass on the nearby dresser so I can thread my fingers in his thick hair. His hand moves from my waist down to my ass, and a whimper escapes my throat as he pushes my lips apart and slides his tongue along mine.

  Heat floods my panties. My whole body’s on fire remembering what he can do to me and how good it feels. He lifts his head and places his glass of wine beside mine before returning to what he started.

  “You want this?” His voice is low and rich, like he has to even ask.

  I’ve just driven hours with him to be in this place alone.

  “I want it.” My voice is soft and high, and he pulls me to him again.

  Our mouths collide, and it’s like a spark to kindling. We’re moving faster, like we’ve been starving since Sunday. He tugs at my shirt, and I quickly unfasten the buttons. My pussy throbs with every heartbeat. I want his lips on me. I want his beard scratching my skin. I’m tempted to rip the rest of my shirt apart when he catches the hem and raises it over my head. Just as fast, he cups my breasts, which are barely covered by my white lace bra.

  “I neglected these last time.” His voice is a low murmur, his eyes fixed on my body.

  His thumbs circle the rosy areolas just visible through the delicate lace, and my nipples tingle and harden. I reach around quickly to unfasten my bra. His eyes darken as it falls away. My insides clench, and I gasp when his teeth graze my tender flesh.

  “So sexy,” he says, kissing and pulling at the beaded tips.

  Every little nip, every touch, is a charge straight to my glistening core. I feel his erection against my stomach, and I want him so much. I want the weight of his body holding me down. I want to hear his groans of satisfaction as he comes.

  In a sweep, I’m off my feet, and he carries me to the enormous, king-sized bed. Gently, he lowers me onto my back, standing tall as he unbuttons his shirt. He doesn’t waste time, getting halfway down his gorgeous chest before pulling it over his head, leaving his dark hair in messy waves.

  My knees rub together in anticipation. His eyes never leave me, hungry as I unfasten the button on my pants and push them down my hips. Large hands cover mine, and he pulls them off.

  “Your turn.” I tease, sliding the tip of my toe over the obvious bulge in his slacks.

  A naughty grin curls his lips and he catches my foot, holding it in one hand as he unfastens his pants with the other. “I like your bare feet.”

  “I like your bare everything.” I haven’t really had enough alcohol to be so sassy, but I can’t seem to help it.

  His pants fall, and I bite my lip at the sight of his cock pointing right at me. Sliding his hand from my foot to my ankle, he puts a knee on the bed between my legs. My insides are vibrating the closer he gets. His eyes go to where a thin scrap of lace still covers me.

  Long fingers slide down my center. He touches me lightly and my thighs quiver. Dipping his head down, he traces his tongue along my belly, kissing my skin, working his way lower. My knees rise, and I squirm at the feel of his beard tickling my insanely sensitive skin. Every touch feels so good, it’s almost unbearable.

  He’s beside me on the bed, propped on one arm at my waist. “Does this feel good?” He traces a finger along the side of my thong.

  “Yes,” I manage to gasp.

  “How about this?” His voice is level, methodical, as he pulls the lace to the side, sliding the edge of his finger up and down my clit.

  “Patton…” I moan, my fingers twisting in the sheets.

  “You’re so beautiful right now. I can’t decide what to do with you first.”

  “Just do something.” I want to say do anything… Only I’m a little nervous he might take me at my word. How far am I prepared to go with him?