Winter Kisses (A 3:AM Kisses Novella Book 2) (9 page)

“I’m sure it’ll go well.” Baya ventures on with her disillusioned innocence. “It’s a necessary evil. Like pulling off a band aid.”

Something tells me it will very much be necessary, but deep down I’m hoping it’s not. I’d like nothing more than to start off on the right foot with Ryder, and cutting his mother out of his life doesn’t exactly reek Norman Rockwell—more like Norman Bates and we all know how that turned out.

Talking to Ryder’s mother is going to be awkward. This won’t be anything like ripping off a band aid—quite the opposite. This will be like taking a scalpel and reopening the wound.

It’s going to hurt like hell.

I hope Ryder and I don’t bleed out this time.

Ryder

Capwell Industries runs like a well-oiled machine, partly due to the fact my father is down on every dirty detail. He’s completely hands-on when it comes to running his company and its many divisions, so much so that there’s a high staff turnover from all the micromanagement taking place. And, in the same vein, my mother runs her life in a similar manner. She spends her days organizing charity functions for the local hospitals and universities, thus her appearance at the auction the other night. It’s strange because she insisted I go. I had no idea Laney would be performing—that she would be auctioned off for the night no less. And I’m sure my mother was equally as surprised. I doubt she’d be so eager to get me “out of the house” if she knew it might land Laney in my bed for the night.

Hot damn that girl can light the sheets on fire. Still wish to God I had a “raincoat” lying around. Can’t believe I let some sophomoric blunder take down the evening a notch. Not that it was ruined because every moment I spend with Laney is perfect, but it could have been elevated to a whole new level if I had the proper equipment to carry out the task at hand. I almost went for it. I came this close to playing God with both our futures and plunged into her, thrust after thrust, unstoppable. I’m glad I didn’t though. Not that I don’t want kids with Laney someday because I do. I want the whole happily ever after package, and if that means investing in a minivan and a never-ending supply of diapers so be it. With Laney by my side life is going to fade from a black and white world to a brilliant Technicolor surprise.

“What’s up?” A hard slap lands over my shoulder, and I turn to find Bryson with a goofy grin on his face. “Heard you swept Sawyer off her feet last night.”

“Good news travels fast.” I nod him into my office, and he follows.

“Laney sort of left Baya holding the bag—her bag to be exact. So”—he connects his fingers at the tips as we take a seat—“speaking of bags, you bag anything last night? Anyone?”

“You’re subtle.” I open my laptop before relaxing into my chair. “Does ‘sort of’ count?”

“Sort of?” He looks amused then it quickly morphs into something shy of pity. “Bummer.”

“No, definitely not a bummer. We held strong and put our bodies to good use. It’s not that I couldn’t, it’s that I didn’t have the proper equipment to wage war.” I nod into him. “No battle helmet.”

“Dude.” Bryson pulls his wallet from the back of his jeans, and it looks as if he’s literally pulling it out of his ass. “Make love not war and all that good shit.” He flings a couple of foil packets my way.

“Thanks.” I snap them up like they’re Halloween candy. “I didn’t know you were packing.”

“Yeah, well, you never know when you’re going to shoot a few off. Baya keeps me on my toes. You should get one of those industrial sized boxes,” he teases. “The way you and Sawyer used to look at each other, you’re going to need it.”

“Duly noted, and we will most definitely need it.”

Bryson nods into me. His expression grows somber, and I think I know where this is headed.

“So are things going to be different this time around?” The smile slips right off his face. He’s gone from a dick-sock wielding buddy to Laney’s over protective big bro in one easy bound.

“I’d never hurt her.”

“I never said you would. How about your family? You think anyone might try to put her heart in the blender and serve it up with some mint leaves on the side?”

I nod, completely transfixed on some invisible horizon behind him.

“I’ll talk to my mother. But I don’t think I should wait for the first sign of bullshit to protect Laney. I’m afraid I need to cut my mom out of my life for a while. Maybe for good.” I shake my head at the idea. “I hate it. But last time she went too far, and Laney left me. I can’t go through that again, not for twelve seconds let alone twelve months.”

“Let her know how you feel. Make sure she realizes how serious you are. I know your mom, Ryder. She’s going to change her tune about Laney if it means losing you.”

I blow out a breath and thread my hands behind my neck. “You’re right. She means well, but she’s toxic as hell when it comes to my love life. I think I’ll stop by her office and have a little talk.”

“You need some moral support?”

“Nope.” I hold up the twin foil packets. “You did your good deed for today.”

“Rock on, man.” He leans over and throws a knuckle bump my way. “Guard Laney’s heart. She’s a sweet girl. She deserves to be happy, and so do you.”

“Will do, and thank you. It’s nice to see you smiling these days, too.”

“I’m just glad Baya’s safe. Any news about the trial?”

“None that I know of.” My cousin Aubree was arrested last month for trying to kill Baya, and, apparently, there’s strong evidence that suggests she did kill Stephanie Jones, a girl we grew up with. Bryson and Steph were together for a while, right up until she died. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to go through something like that. And I never want to find out. I’d never say it to Bryson, but losing Laney for a year was enough to do me in. I still don’t know how he catches his breath in the morning. I’m glad he found Baya to quell the pain.

“Let me know how things work out with your mom.” He gets up and heads out the door. “We should take the girls out to dinner sometime. I think Baya and Laney would like that.”

“I’d like that, too.”

He takes off, and I shake my head with a goofy grin plastered to my face. I’ve gone from isolating myself at home to double dating—from romancing Rosie Palm to sleeping with Laney Sawyer.

I pinch the glorified love gloves between my fingers.

Soon Laney and I will commence our relationship in the best way possible, and, if last night was any indication of how incredible things are going to be, I’m betting I’ll need two industrial-sized boxes to make it through this week alone.

Laney and I are together again, and nothing or nobody can tear us apart.

That night I attended the show that the drama department put on and sat front and center. My mother had called earlier and invited me to dinner, but I took a rain check. She asked where I was off to so I told her. She responded with one word.
Wow.
I got the feeling it wasn’t a good wow, so I didn’t push it. I’m assuming it was more of a wow we’re revisiting bad habits. She actually called Laney a bad habit to my face, last year, a few weeks before it all went down, and I let it slide because she’s my mother.

I shake my head at the thought as I make my way to her office under a gloomy afternoon sky.

Laney and I ended up hanging out at her dorm after the show, and I spent the night holding her. One of Laney’s roommates was home, so we decided to hold off in the pleasure department until tonight. But in a few hours, after her show, she’ll be all mine. She says she’ll pack a bag and spend winter break at the penthouse with me, and I cannot fucking wait. I’ll gladly shuttle her to Whitney Briggs as needed. I’d shuttle her to Alaska and back if she wanted me to.

But right now I’m taking on the task of speaking with my mother. Her office is just across the street from Capwell Industries, so I head over and ride the elevator up, rehearsing what I’m going to say like some douchebag. I know she’s going to be hurt. That she’s going to feel threatened. I’m her only son, and she doesn’t want to lose me. She’s said, time and time again, that she only wants the best for me. Why in the hell can’t she see that Laney is the best?

I step out onto her floor and make my way over to the Capwell Philanthropic offices, fully excepting to see Meg seated behind the big mahogany desk as I walk in but thankfully don’t. She’s abandoned her post for the moment. Probably drowning her sorrows now that she knows Laney and I are back together. Maybe she’ll finally call off her stalker-like tendencies. I’d laugh it off, but she was close with Aubree, and come to find out, stalker-like tendencies were her specialty.

I walk over in the direction of my mother’s office, and the sound of polite female laughter lights up the hall. Great. I’m sure my mother will invite Meg to sit in on our private conversation, no matter how hard I try to get rid of her. I catch the reflection of my mother’s office from the mirrored hall and pause when I see them—Roxy, Baya and Laney, all three with bright red Santa hats on.

Holy shit. They beat me to it.

Laney didn’t mention a meet and greet with my mother last night, and Roxy hasn’t said anything. Maybe this doesn’t have anything to do with me?

“Little Laney,” Mom coos, talking down to the woman I love. It makes me sick to my stomach just hearing it. “If I’ve ever made you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable I do apologize. And I have nothing but the upmost respect for your mother, raising two daughters on her own after her husband so rudely walked out on her.”

Rudely?

Shit.

Mom wags a finger. “I’m telling you, I should never have stayed true to my grandmother’s century old eggnog recipe last year. It called for just a splash of rum, but I’m pretty sure I dumped in half the bottle. I swear I have no recollection of any of these things you’ve accused me of. It must have been the alcohol talking. Let me make this up to you. I’m having a dinner party tonight. I’d like to invite you all.” She extends her hands to the three of them. “Bring dates, bring friends. I think this will be a great way to start things off in the right direction.”

Roxy stands and lunges at Mom with a hug. The love fest begins, so I back the hell down the hall and out the building before they can spot me. It looks like I may not have to cut my mother out of my life after all.

My phone buzzes with a text. It’s Laney. It’s so nice to see her name light up my screen after one long year. Water finally comes to the desert.

Where are you?

Just getting ready to step back into my office.
No lie, just stepped into the elevator.

I have a couple hours before the show. You mind if I stop by?

Come as quick as you can.

And with any luck she’ll do just that.

Laney

The Capwell Industries building stands erect as a cosmopolitan symbol among the far more meager structures in the downtown district. The long, mirrored architecture curves at the top, giving it a phallic appeal as it spears into the sky. I soak it all in before stepping across the street to visit Ryder for the afternoon. It’s as if with every step I take the relationship we’re renewing becomes that much more official. It’s strange to practically have Rue’s blessing. I’m not sure I’m buying that “alcohol talking” excuse, but if that’s the copout she’s willing to use, I’m fine with it so long as it doesn’t happen again.

“Wait for me!” Baya latches onto my arm. We’re still wearing our matching Santa hats with bells attached to the giant fur ball, so we’ve quite literally jingled all the way here. Baya turns to Roxy. “Why don’t you head back to campus? I’ll catch a ride with Bryson.”

“Will do.” Roxy tugs at my sweater, splicing my attention for a moment. “So, what do you think? It sounds like she was genuine.”

Rue’s face flashes before my eyes. Somehow Rue and genuine don’t seem to go hand in hand.

“Yeah—oh yeah.” I think genuine is stretching it a little too far, but I’m not going there. “For sure she extended the olive branch, and I really appreciate it.”