The Fix Up (7 page)

Sterling

I’m seconds away from ruining the evening with my foul mood, but it’s hard not to when the call from Charles put everything into shining clarity. My mood plummeted with the gravity of the entire situation I’ve found myself in, and then it was all I could focus on.

It may sound cliché, but my mum is my whole world. She’s the one who stood by my side when I was an unruly, spite-filled teenager who’d just been dropped into a strange new school in a brand-new country. I didn’t understand the customs, didn’t understand the culture. And worse, I didn’t have any friends to take away the boredom and dark pit of juvenile hell I’d found myself wallowing in.

Mum stood up for me, helped get me through. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t call someone a cunt, or why everyone giggled behind their hand when I said
bloody
. But Mum was there. As an only child, I was her whole world, and now that she has no one else, it’s up to me to fight for her.

Eventually I met Noah and got along fine, but those first months were hard.

As I grew, I always stayed close to her. And then somewhere during the process of becoming a divorce attorney and watching my own parents’ seemingly stable marriage crumble, I lost it. I lost sight of the meaning of a deep relationship between two people, didn’t know why in the world anyone would ever want to tie themselves to another person for all of eternity, knowing the odds of it ending badly were so high.

Because of all of that baggage, I’ve been living a lonely life. Maybe it’s the fact that my best friend has now settled down and has a baby on the way, but I’m starting to look at Camryn in a whole new light.

There’s no way this can possibly work out well, so I don’t know why I’m even trying. But when Camryn showed up tonight looking stunning, she took my breath away, and then was ready to leave before I’ve even spoken three words to her. I know I can’t stand by and let that happen.

I might have a mess of baggage to deal with, but I’m not about to let her walk away. The urge to pull her into my arms and hold her there is much too strong. I stroke her jaw, fighting with myself not to kiss her, and she looks up at me with huge green eyes.

“Don’t leave,” I whisper.

She draws a slow, shaky breath, still watching me with wide eyes as I touch her.

This just feels right. And for the first time in a long time, I feel good. I don’t want that feeling to end.

I’m still touching her, still caressing her milky-soft skin, and she’s still letting me. It’s a step in the right direction.

“I was a dick. I’m sorry.”

A weak smile is her only response.

“Come on; you can do better than that, love.”

Her shaky smile grows, and her rigid posture relaxes just a fraction more. “I wasn’t sure what to think when I got here. You seemed pissed off.”

“Just a bit of bad news, but I’ll get it straightened in the morning. I’m sorry. Will you please stay?”

She nods, and I let my hand slip down from her jaw to the column of her graceful neck, her shoulder, enjoying the brush of soft cashmere against my fingertips as Camryn wets her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. The movement is so quick, but it doesn’t stop the erotic images of her mouth on mine, moving over my cock, from taking over. She has a beautiful mouth. And when she’s not using it to be sassy, those plump lips are just begging to be kissed.

My hand slides lower until it comes to rest on her lower back. The movement thrusts her chest forward slightly, and her firm breasts graze my chest. She responds with a tiny shiver.

My cock instantly goes hard at the crackling electricity between us. One small touch has never gotten me so ready, so quickly. But the strong suspicion that we’d have explosive chemistry in the bedroom isn’t something I can let myself think about right now. Wanting to devour her, to taste her lips and hear her whimpers of desire, I force myself to pull away from the soft curves of her body, her huge, hungry eyes and damp lips.

“Come. Join me,” I say, taking her hand.

Camryn nods, and I lead her out onto the balcony.

“Does it always look like this out here?” she asks as we step outside.

“I might have spruced her up a bit,” I lie. I spent a solid hour giving this place a total makeover.

Camryn takes a seat on one of the pillows, and I do the same across from her.

I pour us each a glass of wine as we settle in. I watch Camryn take in the view surrounding us. The towering buildings glitter in the distance, and a gentle breeze lifts a stray strand of her hair.

Even though being her with her feels amazing, the dark shadow clouding all of this isn’t far from my thoughts.

“If this is how you plan a simple date on a Wednesday evening, I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting you married off,” Camryn jokes.

I inhale, my jaw ticking.
Right, that’s the plan
. “Enjoy your wine. Let me put the finishing touches on dinner.”

I excuse myself into the kitchen where I remove our still-warm plates from the oven, and try to push aside the drama fighting for space in my brain.

Just chill, mate. One step at a time.

I deliver Camryn’s plate in front of her, along with a cloth napkin and silverware.

“Wow. I’m impressed,” she says, surveying the food.

“I hope shellfish is okay.”

“Absolutely. This looks amazing.”

After I take my spot across from her, we both dig in.

The evening air is crisp, and I settle a woolly throw blanket over her lap. “Are you too cold? We can go inside, if you prefer.”

Shaking her head, she tugs the blanket around her. “It’s perfect out here,” she says, then takes a bite of pasta.

Neither of us seems to want to discuss the elephant in the room, the entire reason we’re working together—my upcoming nuptials. So we make small talk and stick to safe topics.

When we’re through with dinner, I stack our plates and set them aside, then bring out the chocolate truffles I purchased today and set them on top of the overturned basket.

“Cheers.” She touches her chocolate to mine, then pops it in her mouth.

“So, Camryn Palmer. Tell me, what is it that you’re looking for?”

She chews and swallows, taking her time savoring the bittersweet chocolate with caramel. “Ultimately, I’m looking for my lobster.”

My brows dart up at her unexpected response. “Your lobster?”

She laughs, a short, sharp chuckle that endears her to me even more. “It’s probably just a stupid myth, but haven’t you ever heard that lobsters mate for life?”

I shake my head. “I think someone fed you a load of shit there, love.”

“Oh, shush. Let me have my fantasies.”

“Fine.” I grin, amused that she’s looking for her lobster. “Carry on.”

“I’m looking for my forever. Someone to grow old with.”

Her dreamy smile quickly fades, and her expression turns to panic. “Oh God, I just told you that I’m looking for commitment. Feel free to run the other way now. Climb down the trellis if you need to.”

“You didn’t say
I
had to give you a commitment, you simply communicated what
you
were looking for,” I say, correcting her. “And a woman knowing what she wants has been, and will always be, quite sexy.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as naughty thoughts flash through my brain.

“I just want to keep this casual,” she says. “It’d be foolish to get wrapped up when we have so much going on.”

“Yes, of course. Casual would be best,” I say.

Camryn takes another sip of her wine. “Can I ask what was bothering you when I got here?”

Fighting through the tightness in my chest, I make the decision to let Camryn in. And while I’m not ready to share everything, I know she deserves to know. It’s something I never got around to telling Rebecca, even after eight months together.

Clearing my throat, I say, “My mum’s been in poor health lately. It’s been tough. And my uncle Charles is just worried, is all.”

“I’m sorry,” she offers, her voice soft. “I didn’t know.”

Nodding, I take another sip of wine. I haven’t opened up and told anyone about the seriousness of it, but the tender look in Camryn’s eyes makes me want to share a little more of myself with her.

“I’m all she has. My father left three years ago.”

“I see.” Camryn folds her hands in her lap and looks down at them. “My dad left when I was little.”

When she looks up to meet my eyes, I can see the pain and hurt his absence has caused. When someone that vital to your life disappears from it, it leaves a little hole behind. I know that firsthand.

We continue our discussion, moving from topic to topic, and unlike all the other women I’ve been with, my conversation with Camryn is real. We discuss our goals, more about our families, a little about work. We learn that neither of us has much contact with our dads, something unexpected that we share.

The pain and heartache that goes along with losing your dad isn’t something I’d wish on anyone, and the sadness lurking behind her gaze tells me she wishes this was one thing we didn’t have in common too.

“Let’s have another glass of wine,” I suggest.

“I’m game if you are.”

Camryn

Tonight has been more than I could have ever imagined. Anyone looking at my life from the outside may think I have it all. A great career?
Check
. A small, but close-knit group of girlfriends?
Check
.

But my reality is much different. I crave a true connection, a partner in life, someone who gets me and accepts me for who I am. My ex was none of those, and I fooled myself into believing I was having fun—living it up in my twenties with a sexy fling. But deep inside, I yearned for more.

And tonight, Sterling has unknowingly opened a huge gaping wound inside me. He’s made me feel special, planned something just for me. Showed me what it was like to spend an evening with a man interested in conversation just for the sake of getting to know me. I fear I’ll never be the same.

I haven’t dated, haven’t been out with anyone since David the Douche, and honestly, I’ve all but given up hope that good men actually exist. But if men like Sterling Quinn really do exist, then maybe the hunt for my lobster isn’t totally in vain. I still can’t believe I told him that. But he was so gracious and sweet about it, so I don’t regret it.

We’ve finished dinner and dessert, and now we’re lounging on the pillows outside, drinking a second glass of wine. My heart feels so full and conflicted, I’ve grown quiet in the past few minutes.

“You asked about my past.” Sterling looks out on the passing traffic below as he says this.

I’ve barely noticed the quiet hum and occasional car horn in the background, as we’ve been deep in conversation much of the night. Studying his profile, his square jawline peppered with dark stubble, his strong, straight nose and full lips, it takes me a moment to realize he’s waiting for me to respond.

“I was curious, yes.”

“I had a girlfriend last year. An attorney where I work. It was convenient.”

That pang of jealousy I felt earlier when I wondered about his past flares up again. “I see. And how long did you date her?”

“About eight months.”

Longer than I would have guessed.
“That sounds serious. And you were monogamous the entire time?”

“Of course I was. But no, it wasn’t serious; not in the way you’re thinking, at least. There were no I-love-yous exchanged,” he adds.

“And she’s out of your life completely?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I still see her at the office occasionally, but we work on different floors. She still calls once in a while, but I’ve moved on.”

It seems like it would be the easier choice to marry someone he was comfortable with and has history with over some stranger, but I’m not going to be the one to point that out to him. He must have his reasons.

“And what about you? You were dating someone last year too. David, wasn’t it?”

I nod, surprised that Sterling even noticed. Maybe he silently kept tabs on me like I did on him.

“We broke up about six months ago. He took off.”
With my heart, my wallet, and my good credit score.

“And there’s been no one since then?” Sterling asks.

I shake my head. “I haven’t had the slightest interest in dating.”
Until you.

“Same here,” he says.

“But now you have to get married.”

“Seems that way.” He rubs the back of his neck again, which I’m coming to recognize as something he does when he’s anxious.

“Why are you doing this, really? You’re a successful attorney. I’m sure you make a comfortable living.”

He lets out a deep sigh. “Come inside with me.”

We move inside, carrying the stacks of dishes and our wineglasses. We set the dishes in the kitchen and take our glasses to the couch.

His living room is masculine, yet inviting. A navy sofa in tweed fabric sits facing the large windows, and a leather armchair and small table made of steel round out the other side of the room. His coffee table is a large rustic crate that’s been overturned.

We’re sitting side by side on the couch when Sterling takes my wineglass from my hand and sets it on the table next to his.

He’s quiet, contemplative, and I wonder what he’s thinking about.

I realize it in that moment—we’re all struggling to find something true. True affection. True intimacy. True love. A shot at something real in this life. And Sterling and I share that desire. He might deny it, might say that he’s jaded on the idea of marriage and that he’s doing this for the money, but I can see it when I look into his eyes, can feel it when he smiles at me. He wants something true as badly as I do. He needs it, maybe even more than I do.

“I know this probably seems strange to you, me going through with this cocked-up plan to marry.”

I swallow and shake my head. I won’t judge him; there’s a lot of freaking money on the line.

“But you have to trust me that I have my reasons. It’s not all about the money. Well, it sort of is.” He rubs the back of his neck again. “I just need this to work.”

I take his hand. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I told you I’ll help, and I meant it.” A giggle forces its way up my throat. “Just consider tonight me testing your ability to woo a woman.”

His smile is amused. “And did I woo you, Miss Palmer?” He’s still holding my hand, and when he strokes the back of it with his thumb, tingles of awareness spiral through me.

I’m practically dizzy with the electricity that’s been humming between us all evening. He’s intoxicatingly attractive, and the lines between professionalism and pleasure have become irrevocably blurred. There should be miles between work friends and fuck buddies, but with Sterling this close, with his subtle, spicy cologne and his deep blue eyes gazing into mine, everything is fuzzy.

“You get an A-plus in the wooing department, Mr. Quinn,” I whisper as Sterling draws near.

“We should probably test out how I kiss. You know, for research purposes,” he murmurs.

A warm shudder passes through me.
Dear God, could he get any sexier? If he suggested I test out how he fucked, would I even have the strength to say no?

His hands are on my jaw, and he tilts my mouth up to meet his. In that split second, I know I could pull away if I wanted to, but I don’t. My eyes drift closed just as his warm, full lips press softly against mine. When he sucks lightly on my bottom lip, I open to him. Then, so slowly it makes me ache, he brushes his tongue against mine.

Holy shit.

The.

Man.

Can.

Kiss.

In fact, every kiss I’ve had since my first in eighth grade pales in comparison.

Tender. Sensual. Soft. Urgent. His kiss is all of those things at once. And more.

He holds my jaw with one hand while the other trails down the front of my deep V-neck sweater. Careful to avoid my breasts, which ache for his touch, he lightly trails his fingertips along the line of exposed cleavage, leaving warmth tingling in his wake. My entire body silently pleads for more.

When he pulls away, he does so only a few inches, and rests his forehead against mine. “Fuck, you taste good.”

Everything inside me clenches. Even the way this man curses is hot.

Pulling back a fraction more, Sterling focuses his eyes on mine. His are dark, glazed over with hot lust, and it makes me want him even more, knowing I affect him as much as he does me.

With a tiny groan at the back of his throat, he pulls back to study me. Swiping his thumb across my lower lip, he releases a pained exhale. He doesn’t ask how the kiss was, or tease me to see if he passed the test. We both know that kiss was utterly perfect. Intense. It was the real thing. So real, it’s a little scary. Some people just click—their chemistry or pheromones or something. I know I could easily fall for him, and given the direction his life’s headed, I can’t let that happen.

“We should stop before we do something we can’t take back,” he says.

“Or something we’ll regret in the morning.”

I rise from the couch while Sterling does the same. The obvious strain at the front of his jeans is impossible not to notice.
Holy erection!

He clears his throat and leads me toward the door.

We stand there, our breathing ragged as though we’ve just run an Olympic race, not quite ready to say good night.

Feeling brazen, this time I’m the one lifting up on my toes to press my lips against his. It’s meant to be a chaste kiss good-bye, but that’s all it takes for Sterling’s control to snap. His hands thread through the hair at the back of my neck as he tilts my mouth to his. He explores my mouth with deep, drugging kisses as I writhe against him, desperate for more.

The connection we shared tonight was more than physical. But nothing could have prepared me for this. The grinding of his hips against mine, the rigid length of his massive erection pressing
right there
. I want more.

Growing need outweighs all common sense. Hooking one leg around his waist, I pull us closer. He drags his hands up my sides, his touches changing from innocent to seductive as he palms my breasts, massaging them, grazing my pebbled nipples with his thumbs.

I suck in a breath at the sudden wash of heat rushing through me.

Overcome with lust, I reach down to grip the firm bulge of his erection. Even covered in denim, it’s impressive, warm and solid in my palm.

With a grunt, he swears under his breath, pressing us even closer so that his hands are now on my ass and his thigh is pressed between my legs.

Ripping my mouth from his, I suck in a deep breath. I feel as though I’ve been underwater, deprived of oxygen for too long. My heart is hammering, and I’m dizzy and flushed.

“I’d better go.” My voice comes out so soft, and I realize it’s because I haven’t spoken a single word since that kiss that tipped my world upside down.

He opens the door for me and leans against the frame while I slip my purse over one shoulder. “Thank you for coming over.”

“I had fun,” I whisper, my lips damp and swollen from his onslaught of hungry kisses.

“We should hang out again.” He smiles.

I nod, unsure how in the world I’ll be able to hang out with him again without things between us turning heated.

His expression changes, and I see something dark pass through his gaze. “Are you sure about this?”

I shrug. “Someone’s going to have to keep an eye this shit show.”

He chuckles and gives me a brief hug before releasing me. “Night, Camryn,” he murmurs.

When I make it downstairs, the friendly doorman has a cab waiting for me.

“Good evening, miss,” he calls as I slip inside.

Miss.

The word only serves to remind me that some other girl is soon going to be
Mrs
. Sterling Quinn. The thought is sobering.