Keep Me (4 page)

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Authors: Faith Andrews

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Keep Me
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But I wasn’t about to cause a Sunday scene over it. “Yeah, you’re right, Dad. I’ll lay off ‘em for a while. Anyway… Riley, dinner was delicious, as always.”

Riley’s perfectly shaped eyebrow arched up as she stared back at me, smiling. She knew I was only trying to change the subject. This was why I didn’t like to show up to these things. The heat was always on me. Never mind that I was living my dream, my old man only saw the disappointment. Twenty-four with no commitments, no college degree and a body marked up with defiance.

I leaned back in my chair and pushed my plate away from me. “I’m stuffed to the gills. I’ll get clean-up—just give me a few minutes to digest.”

“Don’t worry about it, Marcus. I can clear up. You just sit and spend time with Dad.”

Was she kidding me? I hated being left alone with him. After Mom died, something snapped in Dad. He wasn’t my role model anymore. He was a sorry, bitter, miserable widower. I missed her too, didn’t he know that?

I darted a disgusted look at her. She knew what she was doing… that conniving pain in the ass. But she ignored my wordless plea and walked out with the empty salad bowl and a few pieces of silverware into the peaceful quiet of the kitchen.

“So, Pop, what’s going on with the summer house this year? You wanna head out one weekend and get it spruced up? Maybe we can rent it out a few weeks.”

Dad looked up at me like I had just asked him to commit murder.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“No. I want nothing to do with that place. You wanna go, you go.” He took a swig of his sweet tea and continued staring at the fresh ink covering my bicep.

“Fine. Sheesh. I just thought it was something we could do together… Mom would’ve…”

“Enough.” His grumble interrupted me from what I was about to say. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And with that our conversation was over.

 

 

“You idiot! What would possess you to mention the summer house, Marcus?”

I took the last of the plates Riley was drying and put it back in the same place it had been for the last twenty-two years. “The place is rotting away. What’s the use in having it if we aren’t going to spend time there? He’s always complaining I don’t do anything with him, I thought we could…”

“You know he hasn’t been back there since Mom died.” Her face wore the expression of a mother teaching a child a lesson.

I ignored it. “Exactly my point. Four years! Can you imagine what the place must look like?”

“A
pigsty
!” she said it the way my mother used to say it. I remember her walking into my room as a kid or into the kitchen after Riley had tried to concoct a new recipe.
You kids make me nuts! My house looks like a pigsty.

Riley and I looked at each other, sharing a silent memory about the woman we all missed. I liked being able to think of her like
this
again. The good memories. Not the ones of her wasting away to nothing in a hospice bed. She’d be happy we were laughing about her and that I was giving Dad shit about the beach house. She
loved
that damn beach house and just because he was too bitter to go there didn’t mean I couldn’t.

“You know what, screw the old man. I’m going down there next weekend to look the place over. It probably won’t be ready for Memorial Day, but I’m thinking big bash for the 4
th
of July.”

Riley rolled her eyes as she folded the dishtowel over the handle of the oven, just like Mom used to. Everything was still how she’d left it. “You and your bright ideas, little bro. Leave me out of it—you’re on your own with this one.”

“Oh yeah? Then
you
can’t come to the bash. But your friend can.” I winked as I backed away from her, doing a little dance.

“Which one? You’ve had your eye on a lot of them.”

She was right. I did have my eye on a lot of them and my hands all over most of them too, but there was only one I couldn’t stop thinking about these days. I knew it would surprise Riley when I told her who. “Tessie Spano. I’ve always wanted to see her in a bikini.” I could lick my lips just thinking about it.


Tessa?
Seriously, Marcus? First of all, she’s known you since you were a little kid… gross. Second of all, she’s been through enough shit. I don’t need
you
screwing with her too! We know your track record.”

“Oh please, maybe a little fun with
me
is what she needs. I got this vibe when I ran into her the other day… she was checking out your little bro’s goods.” Sure, my ego was a bit over inflated these days, but I knew enough to see when a girl was interested. Tessa was eyeing me like a piece of meat. A grown up, not-your-best-friend’s-
little
-brother-anymore piece of meat.

“Get over yourself, Marcus. I already warned her about you, anyway.” Just as the words escaped her big mouth, her hand flew up to cover it.

“Ah-ha! So she
did
mention me! What did she say? You have to tell me.”

Now it was Riley’s turn to attempt to back away, but I had her right where I wanted her. There was no escaping me – Dad wouldn’t be able to hear her pleas over his after-supper snoring fest. I’d tickle her to death if I had to, and no one would be the wiser.

I inched closer to her with my outstretched hands and my fingers wiggling in the air. She hated tickle torture and as childish as it was, I always got my way when the claws came out.

“Please. Stop. You know I hate that shit, Marcus. How old
are
you, anyway? Grow the eff up!”

“Tell me or I do it.”

“No.”

“Then you leave me no choice.” I lunged at her with no mercy.

“All right, all right!” At the first bit of contact with her stomach she was wriggling and confessing. “Yes, she asked about you. She couldn’t believe…”

“Couldn’t believe what?” I asked with my wiggling fingers close to her armpit.

“That you were so hot. Okay? There! I said it! Tessa Bradley thinks you’re hot. Are you happy now?”

Yes, I
was
happy about that for some reason. Why did I care what Tessa Bradley thought of me now? I
used
to care. I used to fantasize about kissing her. At that point, I had never been kissed and wanted someone as beautiful as Tessa to show me how. But an eighteen-year-old bombshell wasn’t about to give a pimply thirteen-year-old the time of day, no matter how much I’d made her laugh. But now… I wasn’t that pimply thirteen-year-old anymore. Tessa however, was still that gorgeous knock-out who had the ability to take my breath away.

“Wipe that grin off your face, Marcus. She’s off limits. I just got my friend back and I don’t need you making her run away again.”

What I wanted to say was,
maybe I don’t intend on running her off.
But I wasn’t ready for the weight that phrase held. I was the one-and-done guy. I didn’t want them to linger, in fact, I hated when they tried. But something deep down in my wicked little core told me that if I had a taste of Tessa, one night would not be enough.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She’s a good girl. I’ll stay away.”

Well, that was the plan. Fate, however, had a different one in store for me on Monday morning.

 

 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She looked even hotter than she had the other day.
Damn, this was going to be hard.
But I owed it to my sister, and more than that, I owed it to Tessa. She was always such a nice girl, she deserved a nice guy.

“Nah, I kinda like it.” Well, that didn’t sound like a guy who’s supposed to stay away, did it?

She smiled, delight radiated across her entire face. I could get used to doing that to her. And so many other things…

“Another meeting today? What kind of shoot do they have you lined up for now?”

Of all the times for it
not
to be one of the cool, glamorous, edgy gigs. “A small commercial spot. Nothing crazy.”

“Oh yeah? For what?”

“Wild West.” I mumbled under my breath. I prayed she had no idea what I was talking about.

“Get the hell! The cologne? They put me on that account. Gary’s assistant is on maternity leave. I’m the replacement.”

She had to be shitting me. I tilted my head and lowered my eyes at her, “Come on. Really?”

She held her hand up to her heart. “Swear it. How crazy is that? I get to see you in action now.” She gave me a wink that was anything but innocent.

I swallowed back the uncomfortable dryness that had taken over my tongue. I would love for her to see me in action—just not while donning a fucking cowboy hat and chaps. Okay, I take that back. As long as it would be fulfilling one of her fantasies, I’d
love
for her to see me in action, in a cowboy hat and chaps. I couldn’t even try to hide the smirk that stretched across my lips.

“What? What’s so funny?” She obviously caught the smirk.

“Nothing. Let’s just get to work, okay?”

“Okay… cowboy.”

When she said the word I nearly spit my Starbucks across the room.
Shit!
This chick could read my thoughts. This was bound to be dangerous.

 

 

 

Holy hell, this was going to be dangerous. He
looked
dangerous, though a Stetson and a pair of ripped jeans didn’t usually scream danger. Cowboys were heroes, they rescued damsels in distress. But this cowboy… he was causing my mind and my heart rate serious freaking distress.

“Okay, that’s a wrap!” The director yelled just as I wiped the drool from my mouth.

I stood there holding my phone, Gary’s iPad and had the woman’s version of a hard-on, staring at little Marcus Grayson moseying on along to the trailer to change. Part of me wanted to follow him and help him out of those jeans.
What the hell am I thinking? He’s my friend’s little brother.

“Tessa. Can I have my notes?” Gary’s sudden request startled me out of my daydream.

“Sure,” I said, handing him the tablet.

“So what did you think?”

I was sure he didn’t want my total honesty.
What did I think? I think Wild West will sell millions of units just because of the spokesperson… because he’s fucking scrumptious.
“I think it went well, don’t you?”

“Very well. Marcus is a natural. A real pain in the ass, but the camera loves him and the feeling’s mutual.”

“Yeah, I get that too. Kind of a love affair going on there.” The idea of a love affair and Marcus in the same sentence… back to drooling.

“You two seem chummy, but be careful, honey. I know I’m overstepping here, but at GX we’re all friends and I like you so I feel the need to warn you. He’s got a reputation. I wouldn’t be surprised if his make-up artist comes out of the trailer reeking of Wild West.”

What was I supposed to say to that? I knew at any other work place that would be weird, but I loved the casual, friendly vibe of GX. I needed something like that back in my life. So I just shrugged and nodded, as if taking his advice. “Gotcha. But I kind of know him… well I knew him when he was younger. He’s my friend’s little brother. We just recently got back in touch.”

“Ah, well then you’re probably safe. He’s not a total ass and when it comes to his sister… let’s just say I know she keeps him in check.” He went back to swiping at his iPad, making notes and scanning through the uploaded photos.

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