Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance (14 page)

I
wake
up to a soft nudge and the whisper of my name.

“Hmm?” My arm is wrapped around Genny’s waist, and even though I’m awake enough to take victory that I did indeed hold her all night, I’m not ready to open my eyes.

“Chandler.” She reaches around to poke my shoulder.

“What is it?” I say on a yawn, but by then, my eyes are open, and I can see exactly the reason Genevieve had woken me up. “Uh, hi, Mina.”

The three-year-old stands at the edge of the bed and bats her brown eyes at me.

“Guess I need to learn to lock the door,” I mumble in Genny’s ear, glad that the sheets are pulled up around our naked bodies. “Well, hello there, ninja-child.”

Mina blinks. “What’s a ninja?”

“Someone who’s good at sneaking up on people. Like you.” I’m already preparing for the lecture that Hudson is sure to give me later. But seriously? Kid needs to learn some rules about privacy.

Mina smiles, accepting my words as a compliment. “I didn’t even try to sneak on you. I’m a reawy good ninja, aren’t I?”

“Really good. Whatcha doing in here, anyway, kid?”

“Gramma Sophie said you were ‘spending the day in bed’.”
Not an unattractive idea.
“Are you sick, Uncle Chandler?”

Genny stifles a laugh as I glance at the clock on the wall.
Jesus, Mom, it’s only nine-thirty
.

“Nope. Not sick. Just sleeping in.” I sit up, careful not to reveal anything too, uh, traumatizing. For me. Not her, necessarily.

Apparently, I wasn’t cautious enough because next thing I know, she’s tilting her head and asking, “Uncle Chandler, are you naked?” She’s an observant little ninja, my niece is. “My mommy says that people sleep together naked when they love each other.”

“Um.” Awkward. Because, yes, I do love Genny. But this isn’t quite how I want to say it for the first time. And I certainly don’t want her to feel pressured to say it back.

Then Genny floors me when she says, “That’s right.”

Two words and my heart is pounding in my chest like a bass drum.
Did she just…?

Genny looks over her shoulder at me. “I wouldn’t want to undermine anything her parents have taught her.”

“Right,” I say, my breath still caught in my lungs. That’s what she meant by that. Still, I can’t help but think there’s a layer of honesty to her statement. We’ve hinted at feelings for each other now, and yet we keep dancing around actually saying it. But moments like this? I have to think the words aren’t that far off.

My stomach twists at the thought, in a mostly pleasant way. And a little bit not so pleasant. I mean, this is a big thing we’re talking about—or
not
talking about, exactly—and while it’s exciting, it’s also fucking terrifying.

Also terrifying is what comes out of Mina’s mouth next. “Are you going to have a baby now?”

I scrub a hand over my face. “Wait…what?”

“Mommy says that when two people—”

“Hey, Mina,” I cut her off once I get the gist of where she’s going with this. “Why don’t you go downstairs and see if Millie saved me any of her famous pancakes? I’ll be down in just a minute, okay?”

She pauses, not completely sold on the idea of leaving me, but then suddenly she says, “Okay,” and darts out of the room.

“Damn. That was…” I trail off, not sure how best to finish the sentence.

Genny finishes it for me. “Precious. That’s what it was.”

“God only knows what she’ll say to everyone else about this encounter. I better get down there.” Reluctantly, I hop out of bed.

Genevieve stares after me with glassy eyes. “You’re going to be a really good father, you know.”

“Now that’s
really
terrifying.” I use the excuse of digging through my suitcase to hide my face from hers because, seriously, I’m imagining children waking us up in the future, children that don’t belong to my brother.

I wonder if Genny’s imagining the same.

Which reminds me of something else that we should probably address. “We haven’t used a condom these last few times.” I pull on a pair of jeans and turn to face her. “This isn’t your way of saying you’re not really on the pill, is it?”

She laughs. “No. I’m definitely on the pill.”

“Not that it wouldn’t be okay. I mean, we’re too young. And just met. And we have other agendas right now. But it would be cool. If you were. You know, just in case.” God, I sound like an idiot. No wonder she calls me goofy.

I meet her eyes, and yes, she’s laughing at me, but there’s something else too. Adoration, maybe? It’s how I imagine I must be looking at her.

“I’m not worried about it,” she says, completely in control of her speech, unlike me. “I’m not worried that I’ll get pregnant,” she clarifies. “But I’m also not worried about what would happen if I did. I know you’d be supportive.”

Supportive? I’d be goddamn-father-of-the-year if I had the opportunity.

Whoa.
This really is moving fast.

I take a deep breath as I throw on a T-shirt. We’re just talking. That’s all. The kind of conversation all responsible adults have when they start having sex without latex. It’s all good.

When I turn back to her, she’s on her side, propped up on her elbow watching me, and it takes every bit of strength I can muster not to crawl back into bed with her. A day in bed sounds so perfect, and not only because my dick is twitching in my jeans, but because I can’t get enough of this woman. I want to talk to her and touch her and just
be
with her. All the time.

“If you keep looking at me like that, you’re never going to get out of here, and there will be one sad little girl waiting downstairs.”

“More likely she’ll come looking for me up here again.” I sigh, resigned to the fact that I have to leave her. But not without a good morning kiss.

I crawl over the bed toward her.

“Chandler, no! I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care.” She didn’t seem to care when we woke up in the middle of the night for yet another round of let’s-see-how-deep-I-can-go. She doesn’t fight me now either when I wrap my hand in her hair, tugging it sharply before ravishing her mouth.

I swear she tastes like fucking candy. I love it.

I love her.

“Are you going to come down too?” I ask when I bring myself to pull away, surprised I didn’t spill the contents of my heart instead.

“Yes. I want to shower and then I’ll join you.”
Fuck, showering with her sounds even more delicious than my housekeeper’s pancakes.
“Is that okay?”

Little girl. Waiting for me. Got to go.

I kiss Genny once more on her nose. “As long as you think of me while you’re in there.”

She agrees, and I’m not sure if it’s that or the kiss that caused the hard-on I’m sporting. The sight of her naked body as I watch her slip into the bathroom definitely doesn’t help.

Needing a few minutes to cool down before I go downstairs, I pace the room and recite the Pledge of Allegiance until something catches my eye—a folder sticking out of Genny’s suitcase with the Pierce Industries logo at the top of it.

I’m curious.

Okay, I’m a goddamned snoop.

I pull the folder out and find dozens of pages of financial transcripts, all belonging to Pierce Industries.

Which is weird, right? I mean, she wants to do business with us, but her interest is in Werner Media. So why on earth does she have this? I’m not sure where she’d even get that information. Not sure if it’s even public.

The water in the shower suddenly turns off. And not wanting to be caught with my hand in her bag, I shove the folder back in and rush out of the room. Outside the door, I take a moment to clear my head.

And realize I’m being a moron.

Genevieve is a businesswoman through and through. Of course she’d investigate all the parties she was looking at working with. That’s all. I make a mental note to ask her about it later to be sure and then head downstairs.

* * *

I
find
my family eating breakfast on the patio, and except for Laynie, it looks like Genny and I are definitely the late risers.

“Wow, look who managed to put some clothes on,” my mother says, her tone filled with its usual disdain.

I narrow my eyes at Mina. “Seems someone told on me.” And really? I’m twenty-four. Am I supposed to pretend I’m celibate? God knows Hudson didn’t.

“You have to be careful how you behave around little ones,” Mirabelle chides, but I can tell from the twinkle in her eye that she’s poking at me more than lecturing.

“Hey, I didn’t realize that I needed to lock my door.” I turn to Hudson, who is scowling quietly over his coffee. “She didn’t see anything, H. I swear.”

He glances over at his daughter, as if to be sure she isn’t listening before he says quietly, “Oh, if I believed she had, you’d be missing your nuts by now.”

“Ha ha.” At least now I’m totally soft. No one kills a boner like my brother.

No one kills a breakfast like my brother, either. He’s moody and tense, probably because he’s not sleeping, but I can’t help but feel like it’s directed at me.

Sure enough, I’m only midway through my stack of cakes when he says, “Chandler, we need to talk.”

“Not this again,” my father grumbles, and all of a sudden I remember the strange foreboding I felt the day before when Hudson had wanted to pull me aside.

My eyes dart from Hudson’s to Dad’s and back to Hudson’s. “Is there something I need to be worried about?”

“I’d rather discuss this privately.” Although he obviously already told my father. How private is this really?

Hudson stands, expecting that I’ll follow suit.

“Is Uncle Chandler in trouble?” Mina asks no one in particular, and I have to say, I’m wondering the same thing.

“Of course not, baby.” Hudson’s features relax as he addresses his child. “We just have some grown-up talk to get to.” He bops her on the nose with his finger, his smile warm and full of love.

Then he turns to me and a cold front moves in over his expression. “Let’s go.”

“Yep.” I follow Hudson into the house imagining all the possible things he might want to talk about. He can’t be that upset about the way Mina came upon us this morning, can he? I finally decide he’s just eager to get an update on what happened the other night at the Advances in the Media banquet.

At least, I hope that’s all it is.

Hudson is quiet as we walk. Even when we reach the study, he doesn’t speak until he’s poured himself a scotch and offered one to me as well.

“Day drinking?” I accept the glass, hoping this isn’t an indication that this conversation is going to be serious. Though everything is serious to Hudson, so what my concern is, I don’t know.

“I’d offer a mimosa instead, but you know those have been nixed from the menu since Mother’s been sober.” He swirls the liquid in his tumbler before taking a swallow.

I walk to the window and take a sip myself, letting the liquor burn my throat. As I stare out, Genny joins my family on the patio, and at the sight of her, all my anxiety disappears. I can’t hear them, but her inquisitive expression says she’s asking about me. Mirabelle responds and then they’re laughing and sitting down together. Warmth shoots along my spine, and I don’t think it’s from the scotch. Is it ridiculous that I love how perfectly Genny fits in? It’s like she belongs here. Belongs with my family. Belongs with me.

“Rumor has it,” Hudson says, interrupting my daydreaming, “that you took Genevieve to the awards banquet the other night. Is that true?”

So that’s what this is about.

I turn from the window to find him leaning against the desk. It’s such a stance of authority, like he’s a principal reprimanding a student.

I’m pretty sure that’s how he wants me to feel—like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office.

It makes me want to do what I did every time I found myself there growing up—roll my eyes.

I take a long sip from my glass to rein in my irritation. “It’s really not how it looks. You told me not to bring a plus one, and I didn’t. I ran into her there, and she had a sort of mix-up and didn’t have a ticket, so I said she could take my extra spot. And it was fine because guess who else was seated at our table?”

Hudson shrugs, sets his glass down and folds his arms across his chest, waiting for me to tell him.

“Edward Fasbender and his son Hagan. How the hell did you expect me to feel out Nathan Murphy with them at the same table?”

He’s surprised by this information. “They were? Well, damn. What are the odds?”

“Whatever the odds, it happened. But I did my job and found out—subtly, don’t worry—that Nathan is indeed interested in running Werner Media. You should give him a call for a meeting. I’d like to be there for it, please.”

And now that I’ve given him what
he
wanted, it’s time to ask for what
I
want. “While you’re setting up meetings, set one up with Genevieve. I’d like to be at that one too.”

“Genevieve?” His forehead wrinkles with confusion.

“Yes. She’s young, I know, but she has some great ideas and you should really hear her out.”

“You want me to talk to Genevieve Fasbender. About Werner Media.”