Under Contract (The GEG Series) (28 page)

“Mitch,” she starts, “we have a lot to talk about today. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Making love?” I cup her hips.

“Avoiding the conversation.” She tries to climb off.

“Just where do think you’re going with my Kitty?” I ask playfully.

“Kitty needs to shower and get ready for the day.” She taps my hands just as my cell starts ringing. I grab it.

“It’s Kyle. I need to take this,” I say. “But when I’m done, Morale’s got some lotion he wants to dispense into Kitty.” She snorts, slaps my hand, and climbs off. I admire her lovely ass as I answer my phone. “Hey, Kyle.”

“Mitch—holy shit!”

“What’s the matter, man?”

“I just met the woman of my dreams!”

“What?”

“She came in here looking for you. Well, to rip your head off. Christ, she’s gorgeous! She’s got long, dark brown hair, a nose ring, and those eyes, Mitch—her fucking eyes. They’re green like fucking emeralds, man! Shit, I bet she has a hot tattoo in a hot place! I want to find that tattoo, Mitch.” He finishes rambling. I think for a moment.

“CiCi?” I ask.

“CiCi,” Kyle sighs. I laugh. “Mitch, this is no joke. She left here not five minutes ago, and I’m completely obsessed,” he says in awe.

“What did she say to you?”

“Man ... I don’t know. She had me by the balls—literally had her fingers wrapped around my balls! Her hand fit them good, Mitch.” I can hear desire in his voice. “At times it was a little painful, I have to admit, but my balls were made to fit in her palm. Mitch,” he says, all too seriously, “I have found the keeper of my balls, Mitch. I’m ready to hand them over.” I’d say something, but I’m too busy gasping for air from my laughter. He ignores my reaction. “Who is she? An ex of yours?”

“No,” I say as I pull myself together. “She’s Charlotte’s sister.”

“Did you patch things up with her? Please tell me you did.”

“Yes. Well ... sort of.”

“What do you mean,
sort of
?”

“We haven’t discussed things yet.” I slide to the edge of the bed to get up.

“Well, discuss, make up, and tell me where I’m meeting you guys for drinks tonight,” he says quickly.

“Drinks?”

“Yes, drinks. You, me, Charlotte, and CiCi.”

“A double date?” I ask with a hint of apprehension.

“Yeah! Shit. Mitch, is CiCi involved with anyone?”

“I don’t know, actually—I don’t think so.” I rub my temple, trying to wrap my head around this. “You sure you want this, man? CiCi’s sort of different. I mean, in a good way—like crazy or eccentric.” As I’m trying to clarify, I realize—how can one truly explain CiCi’s personality? “She has no filter, man. You’re kind of straitlaced.”

“Yeah, I’m boring, Mitch—thanks to you!” he says. “I wasn’t always like this, by the way. Maybe I need someone without a filter.”

“All right, man, I’ll see what I can do.” I take in a deep breath and blow it out. To say I’m unsure about this union would be an understatement.

“Great! Call me and let me know!”

“You got it. But before you go, I want to get one thing straight.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s my name again?” I ask, then laugh.

“What?” he asks, then catches on to my teasing. “Oh, that’s easy. It’s dickhead!” His sarcasm flies freely. I should care, being his boss and all but, I don’t. I’ve recently realized that Kyle is my best friend. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one of those. So ... free pass on the “dickhead” comment due to friendship status, right?
Friendship status?
Shit. I think I’ve sniffed too much “Charlotte.” I’m starting to think like a chick.

“Dude? You there?” Kyle pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry. So, I’ll text you the time and place.”

“Thanks, man! Later!” he says, and we hang up. I rub my face before I get up. I head into the bathroom just as Charlotte turns the water off and steps out of the shower.

“All yours.” She smiles.

“I know you are.” I grab her towel. “Now get back in there.”

“I’m done.” She snatches it back.

“Charlotte, that was only ten minutes. You always take longer than that. Now get back in there.” I seize the towel again.

“That’s because you interrupt me,” she states. “I’m done. Take yours. I’m going to make us breakfast.” She grabs a different towel and wraps it around herself.

“I’m trying to take what’s mine.” I pull her by the hips, bringing her closer.

“No, Mitch.” She pushes against my chest and looks me straight in the eyes. “Not until after we talk.”

“We have a contract, Charlotte,” I remind her.

She takes in a breath and nods slowly. “Playing that card again, are we?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve kept my part of the contract. It’s only fair of me to expect you to keep yours.” As I say this, I can see her wall building back up, anger flicking in her eyes.

“Good of you to keep me in check, Mitch—ell.” She lowers towel. I scan her body slowly, then look back into her eyes. She stares at me blankly. The wall is completely up now. Of course it is. One minute I tell her I love her, and the next, I remind her of something I myself want to throw out the window.

I touch her cheek. “Go make us breakfast, baby. I’ll be down in a few.” I lean down and sweep her lips. She shoots me a look. “Go. I’m done being a jerk.” I shrug.

“Okay, but I think it should be known that I had a much harsher word in my mind for you.” She wraps herself back up.

“I’m sure I deserve it.” I pat her toweled bottom, urging her to move out of my way so I can get into the shower.

The smell of corned beef hash and bacon hangs heavy in the air.
Mmm
... if any morning calls for comfort food, this is it. I bring the fried hash over to the large electric skillet, making two good piles. I flatten the piles and pour my egg mixture over them, then lower the heat. Watching the eggs slowly fill every nook and cranny of open space, I start to think about what I’m going to say. He’s going to flip out. He may—no—he
will
tell me to pull back on my offer. I won’t. This could be our last breakfast together.

A very small—miniscule, really—part of me wants to say
good riddance
. I can’t believe he threw the contract in my face again. I’m so confused. Yet ... I don’t think he meant to. Maybe he just doesn’t like to be told no. Who does?

“What do you have going on in here, baby?” He startles me, pressing his face to my neck for a sniff, then a kiss.

“It’s almost done.” I flip the omelets over and sprinkle some cheese before folding them. “Coffee should be ready,” I add.

“Okay,” he says, but encircles my waist with his arms instead of letting go.

He sniffs up my neck.

Down my neck.

Damn it.

My anger has now been snuffed.
Damn him and the way he sniffs me with that sniffer of his!

“Plates, please.” My voice cracks as I point to them on the counter. He reaches over and grabs them. “Thanks.”

“Charlotte, you are going to put a bra on later for Brogan’s game, right?” he asks as his fingers glide across my bare back.

“No. I don’t have to with this dress.” I look down at it quickly as I plate the omelets. “Shit, I almost forgot about Brogan’s game.”
Good job, Mom!

Mitch’s hands come back around my waist and up my Jersey-cotton dress until he fills them with me. His thumbs circle my nipples. He turns me around to him and inspects my breasts. I stand still, feeling every shade of hot and bothered.

“Bra or sweater, Charlotte.” He flicks my tightened buds gently.

“It’s going to be ninety degrees out today! I can assure you, they won’t show!” I push his hands away. “Stop being so damn controlling—I’m not a child!” I bring the plates over to the bacon and toss some on aggressively.
Damn, I hate how he affects me.

“Coffee?” he asks, sounding almost cheerful.

“Yes,” I mumble and bring our breakfast to the nook.

“So ... speaking of a child,” he starts, then settles into the chair across from me.

“Is that my cue?” I bite off a piece of bacon.

“Pretty much,” he says, bringing a bite of omelet up to his mouth.

I wait.

He laughs at me.

I shoot eye daggers, then an encouraging nod.

I wait.

In very slow motion (accentuated by slow-mo sound effects), he brings the forkful to his mouth.

In slower motion, he makes an exaggerated face of pleasure.

“I’ma smack you in a minute!” I announce.

“I’ma?” He chuckles. I throw a piece of bacon at him. It bounces off his nose and hits his plate. He picks it up, shrugs, and eats it.

“Hey!” I reach forward.

“Uh-uh!” He taps my hand. “Come on now, O’Brien. Spill the beans.”

I sigh with irritation at his name reference.

“Charlotte.” He gives me “The Look.”

“Okay.” I take in a deep breath. Here goes nothing—or everything. “Ava and Trent, as you know, have been trying to have a baby,” I say. He nods. “Before you and I met, I offered to be a surrogate for them.” I take a sip of my coffee and swallow hard. I can see Mitch has started putting two and two together—he closes his eyes and massages his temples.

“Go on, Charlotte.”

“About a month ago, Ava asked if the offer was still on the table. She just couldn’t go through another round of the vicious IVF cycle.”

“So, you said yes,” he states instead of questions.

“No. I said I needed to talk to you first.” My heart is beginning to pound.

“Good.” He nods. “The answer is no.” He starts on his omelet again.

I try to keep my cool. “Oh, Mitch, that ship has sailed. You no longer get a say.”

“How do you figure? You’re not pregnant, so you haven’t done the procedure yet—correct?” He sits back and crosses his arms.

“How do I figure?” I scoff.

“Yes.”

“Three weeks, Mitch! I begged you to at
least
talk to me about this! You ignored me. I didn’t think there was an ‘us’ anymore.”

“I’m here now, and I say no,” he says, his voice calm. He goes back to eating.

“I’ve already said yes.” I grit my teeth.

“Take it back.” He shrugs. I can’t believe he’s being so cavalier about this! We’re talking about a baby and people’s lives here!

“I won’t,” I say as I stab my omelet with my fork.

“You will. End of discussion.” He slams his coffee mug down. “We will help them find somebody else. Christ, I’ll pay for it! But I’ll be damned if I let you carry another man’s baby!”

“Their baby. I’m just the incubator,” I correct him. “The decision’s been made, Mitch.”

“Yes, it has—it’s a
no!
” He’s all teeth and anger. “We will find somebody else!”

“There’s nobody else!” I yell. “There’s nobody else they trust! I am a sure thing.”

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” he snaps.

I gasp.

He shakes his head. I’m sure he’s disappointed in his mouth. I am, too.

“We’ll do everything we can to get the best person for them. Somebody local so they can be very involved. I’ll pay double. Whatever it takes, baby, we’ll do.” He reaches across the table for my hand. I pull it away.

I stare down at my plate, unable to take another bite. I wipe away my tears before they plummet down my face.

“Baby.” He sighs.

“No! You shut your mouth and listen to me right now, Mitch!” I bring my eyes up to look him straight in the face. “
You
are the only man I have ever done that with. I’m not a whore, and I’m not a gold digger, which is what you implied last time!”

“Baby—” he tries to cut in.

“Don’t
‘baby’
me!” I stand up. “I don’t deserve to be treated like this, Mitch! I made an unselfish decision and I would do so again, because it’s not about me—it’s about my kids and making sure they have everything they need! I will, though. I will be a whore and lay down with a hundred men if it keeps a roof over their heads,” I say through my tears. “If I mean more to you than that fucking contract, I wouldn’t go waving it around in my face if I were you!”

“You will lay down with another man over my dead body!” He shoots up out of his chair, catapulting it across the kitchen and onto the floor, and charges around the table. I back up to the wall. His hand dives into my hair, pulling my face to his. “No other man will ever touch you again,” he breathes into my face. “No other man will ever kiss you again.” He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks—I swear to God—the plump right out of it. “No other man will ever get the chance to love you.” Forehead to forehead. My pounding heartbeat will surely burst my eardrums.

“Mitch,” I pant.

“I wasn’t looking for this, Charlotte. It wasn’t even a thought. But here it is, and I want it. I want it all. I’m not afraid of it anymore. I think I knew,” he says as he opens his eyes to find mine, “from the moment I first laid eyes on you. The first time I touched you.”

“At the table?”

“You felt that, too?” He smiles and kisses me.

“Yes.”

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“When I get mad, I say stupid shit just to one-up you. I’m sorry. What I’m not sorry about is the way you kick my ass over it. And ... I care, baby. I care about how my words affect you.” He strums my bottom lip with his thumb.