Chapter Five
The protesters seem to be emboldened by the events of the day before. There are more than usual, yelling and carrying their signs, and security has to keep them away from the building.
This shit is really getting old.
Clarence is opening with me again and we spend the first hour arranging a new shipment of lingerie. Jani shows up early and bursts inside, laughing too hard to talk.
“Cass! Come on!” she struggles, yanking open the front curtains. “You have to see this!”
My first thought is that I told those idiots not to retaliate. It’s quickly replaced by a feeling of pure bliss as I burst into laughter. The Frat Hell guys are out front and they’ve brought friends. A lot of friends.
The whole group of boys are shirtless and most have some kind of saying written on their chests and backs. They also carry signs like the protesters, but with vastly different slogans.
They’ve just joined in the protest like they belong there and tears run down my face from laughing, not just at their antics, but at the expressions of the protesters.
I spot Noble, his chest smeared with red paint and Masturbation is Murder. Every sperm counts! scrawled on his back. He’s marching beside a guy holding a Smut Peddlers Burn in Hell sign, and the guy doesn’t look pleased. Maybe because Noble’s sign is drawing far more attention.
Hugs not Butt Plugs! is printed in solid black letters and is apparently the slogan of the day since Noble and the Frat Hell guys are chanting it, drowning out the others.
Denton is a few feet behind him, chanting and carrying a sign that reads, Dildos are a DilDON’T.
“Oh my god!” Jani exclaims. “What the hell is that?”
A person jumps out of a car in a T-rex costume. A sign dangles from one of the little arms that reads, Fappy the anti-masturbation dino says hands off!
It’s a damn mad house out there. The original protesters are going strong, only stopping to give dirty looks to the newcomers who are mocking them. The guys’ chant of Hugs not butt plugs is growing louder by the second. I need to do something.
Carl, one of the security guys, meets me just outside the door. “We can’t stop anyone from protesting,” he explains, chuckling. “As long as no one is getting hurt, we have to let it continue. Maybe they’ll actually run some of them off.”
A scream of “Real men don’t fuck plastic cooter!” rings out. Carl’s gaze meets mine and we both lose control. My sides ache from laughing.
“I know who the ringleader is.” I point out Noble. “Can you ask him to come in and talk to me?”
As fun as this is, and no matter how much they deserve it, we aren’t going to get customers with all this going on. I need to put an end to it.
Noble enters with a huge smile on his face. “Fappy the dino has a crowd twerking with him! You’re missing it!”
Crossing my arms, I try to suppress a grin. “Didn’t I tell you not to antagonize them?”
A smirk raises his lips. “Antagonize? We’re just joining in. Masturbation does a lot of damage, you know.”
“To your palms, maybe,” I laugh. “Look, Noble, I appreciate the effort, really, but I’m in charge for the next few days and I need to keep this shit under control.”
“Fine, I’ll call off the guys.”
Noble follows me back to the sales floor, and I peek out the front window where a few outraged shrieks reach my ears. Fappy the Dino is now marching with a giant super soaker and spraying random protesters. One of them—a middle aged man—shoves him and knocks him onto his back where he lies, legs cycling in the air as he tries to get up.
Noble smiles at my giggles. “Those tiny hands are a bitch. I’d better go. Don’t come outside for a bit. That’s not just water in the super soaker.”
Oh shit.
“What’s in it?” I ask, pulling the curtains shut again.
“The poison ivy leaves from my backyard may have found their way into a bucket of water and soaked overnight.”
Jani approaches from behind us, a horrified expression on her face. “You didn’t!”
Noble shrugs. “I wasn’t sure it would work, but Denton poured the water into the guns this morning and dripped a bit on his wrist. He had a rash within an hour.”
Jani gazes at Noble with what I could swear is awe and admiration. Apparently, she’s impressed. “Damn, I’m gonna start calling you Ruth,” she says, shaking her head. “Cause you’re ruthless.”
“You can scream whatever name you like when we’re in bed,” Noble replies, and Jani scoffs.
“All right. Go call off your friends before things get any uglier,” I order. Noble nods and heads for the door, turning back when I call, “Hey, Noble! Thanks.”
Grinning, he nods again and disappears outside.
I can’t resist watching out the window as Fappy proceeds to mess with one of the older male protestors. Sneaking up behind the guy, he grabs the sides of his No Smut! tee shirt and starts to hump him. The man spins around and shoves him, dropping his sign, and Fappy snatches it up, chasing him with the stick end, as if he’s going to plant it somewhere really uncomfortable.
Noble grabs Fappy’s tail and holds him back, yelling something at him. Fappy drops the sign and lowers his head, plodding back to the van they came in. The whole thing is complete chaos, and I see a few people filming with their phones, so I have a feeling I’ll be seeing this scene again.
A few minutes later, the crowd is gone, other than the original protesters. I can’t help but watch from the front window while more and more of them start scratching at themselves. Within an hour, there are only a few people left and all of them have bright, angry welts on their skin.
Customers have come in pretty regularly throughout the day, despite the turmoil surrounding the building, and I’m happy I’ll at least be able to give Wyatt a good sales report, even though everything else hasn’t exactly gone to plan.
It’s late afternoon, and we’ve hit a bit of a lull when an older man charges through the door and demands, “Who was in that dinosaur costume?”
“Excuse me?” Jani says, putting on her fake, customer service voice.
The man has a poison ivy rash on both of his arms, and by the way he’s scratching, I’m willing to bet there’s more under his shirt. “What he did was assault! Everyone who got sprayed has a rash! Who knows what he had in that squirt gun!”
Clarence approaches and pretends to study the man’s arm. “It’s poison ivy, or maybe poison oak. Either way, you need to wash it and get some cream or it’ll keep spreading.”
“Assault!” the man shouts again.
Carl steps in the back door. I nod toward the guy, and Carl approaches him. “You need to leave the premises,” he warns.
The man jerks away from him. “I’m not going anywhere! Look what they’ve done to me!” He sticks out his arm and gestures towards us.
“They haven’t left the store all day thanks to your little group. If you’d like to lodge a complaint, I suggest you contact the authorities. Right now, you need to leave or I’ll remove you.”
Carl is not a little guy, and the man must hear the truth in his voice because he huffs and stalks toward the door. “I’m calling the police! I know you know who was in that dinosaur suit!”
After he slams out the door, I turn to Carl. “Thanks for coming to the rescue.”
“That’s my job.” He grins and drops his voice. “Any idea who the t-rex was?”
“No, but he has my thanks.”
“Crazy protesters, a dancing t-rex who sprays poison ivy water on them, young guys chanting about butt plugs. This may be the most entertaining assignment I’ve ever had,” he says with a chuckle.
I stay until closing time again with Jani and Martha, but there are no more incidents. When we all leave, there isn’t a protester in sight. I assume they’re home taking oatmeal baths.
Karma can be magnificent, even when it comes in the form of a Frat Hell guy.
By the time I get home and shower, Wyatt is texting me.
Wyatt: I’ll be back in town in a few hours. Would it be okay if I spent the night?
Me: As long as you realize this is a total booty call.
Wyatt: I can live with that.
Me: I’ll probably be asleep. Door is unlocked.
Wyatt: See you soon.
After the last two days, I’m exhausted, and I barely notice when Wyatt climbs in bed with me a few hours later. I snuggle into him and fall right back to sleep.
Wyatt’s phone blares, piercing through the three a.m. silence, and I groan as he flips on the lamp and picks it up.
“Yeah?”
I can only hear his side of the conversation, but it doesn’t sound good. He sits up, and the sheet falls to his waist. “When? Is it out? No, no one should be inside. Yeah, I’m on my way.”
He’s on his feet in seconds, jerking on his clothes. “Wyatt? What’s wrong?”
“Scarlet Toys is on fire.”
His words take a second to sink in, but as soon as my tired brain catches up, I leap out of bed and jerk on a pair of shorts and a tee. Silence wraps itself around us as we hurry out to his car and head toward the building we’ve spent so much time working on.
The smell of smoke fills the air before we even get close, but the sight of the building with flames licking out of the front window is something I’ll never forget. Red lights flash across the darkened buildings and storefronts nearby, and a piercing siren dies off as another firetruck pulls into the lot.
A selfish thought strikes me. I’m probably going to lose my job and Wyatt in one night. The store is a bust, so why would he stay? The sharp ache I feel from that realization tells me it might be for the best. I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for him.
An officer approaches us as soon as we get out of the car, and I recognize him from the time we had to call them on opening day. “Mr. Lawson,” the officer says, nodding at Wyatt.
“Any idea how it started?” Wyatt asks, remarkably calm for someone watching his business turning to ash.
“Not yet. Do you have anything flammable or potentially explosive inside? We’ve heard a few pops.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “No.”
“Um…” I interject. “It was probably the pressurized cans of flavored whip cream and body paint.”
The officer suppresses a grin as he nods and heads over to tell the firefighters the likely culprit. “Wyatt, I’m so sorry,” I tell him, sliding my hand into his.
His lips press together as he looks down at me. “This won’t stop me.”
“You think someone set it on fire?”
“Look.” He points to the windows. More than one is broken, and not just near the fire. Even the slim window on the back door is busted out. “That isn’t accidental.”
“Fucking protesters.”
“Most likely. I have insurance. I’ll rebuild and upgrade with a sprinkler system and better security.” A satisfied grin spreads across his face as he gestures to the light poles surrounding us. Each bears a camera, pointed at different sides of the building. “The assholes who did this are busted and they don’t even know it.”
“When did you install those?”
“Last week. Once I realized the protests weren’t going to die off like usual, I expected some vandalism. Not to this extent, though.” His chest rises on a deep sigh. “We have to start over.”
Guilt seizes me. How much of this is my fault? Wyatt left town for two days and everything went to hell. Rule number one was don’t antagonize the protesters, and I let it happen.
“I’m sorry. I tried to keep everything under control, but…”
“Hey.” Wyatt slides his palm against my cheek. “This isn’t your fault.”
“We had some trouble earlier. Noble and his buddies were antagonizing the protesters. They sprayed them with poison ivy.”
He steps back and blinks. “How the hell do you spray someone with poison ivy?”
“Soak it overnight in a bucket of water, then put the water in a squirt gun.”
I expect him to sigh or curse or something, so I’m completely taken off guard when he bursts out laughing. “That’s fucking genius. If I ever need a revenge scheme, I know who to go to. Did it work?”
“Yeah, a good amount of them were scratching and rashy by the end of the day.”
Wyatt chuckles. “I’m kind of sorry I missed it.”
“Jani has some video.” Yeah, I’ll let him see Fappy the dino for himself. No way I’m trying to explain that.
“Still, that has nothing to do with the fire. If it’s arson like we expect, I’m sure they would’ve done it anyway. They want us gone.”
“Maybe this isn’t the best town for your business,” I tell him. The words taste bad in my mouth. I don’t want the protesters to win. I like my job. I like my coworkers. I like Wyatt. I’m not ready to let any of that go.
His eyes blaze as they clash with mine. “I don’t give up, sweetheart. So don’t you dare.”
“How long do you think? Before we’ll be open again?” I’ll have to go to the temp service to find a job in the interim if it’s going to be more than a couple of weeks.
“I don’t know until we know whether it’s a total loss or not. It may be better to just tear it down and build again. The place was pretty old. If we have to do that, I’m guessing two months or so. If we can repair this structure, maybe a month if we’re lucky.”
Shit.
As if he’s reading my mind, he adds, “I’ll keep you, Jani, Clarence, and Martha on the payroll until we reopen. You’ve all done great, and I don’t want to lose good employees.”
My jaw drops as I step back. “You’re going to pay us when we aren’t working? Aren’t you going to lose money?”
He shrugs. “Not enough to make a difference to me. But I know it will to your friends. Plus, I don’t want to have to retrain and hire new people if they quit and go onto something else because they have to.”
Damn it, he’s such a nice guy. I was sure those didn’t exist anymore.
Firefighters shatter the front window and continue to douse the flames, which are starting to dwindle.
A fireman approaches us. “We’ve got it under control. We’ll have to watch for hot spots for a while, though, so you won’t be able to get in and examine the damage until tonight. You’ll want to get in touch with your insurance company.”
Wyatt thanks them and then asks me, “Where is the best place to go for donuts?”
Either this guy is truly unflappable, or he hides his emotions really well. He should be beyond pissed, the way I am, but he’s thinking about breakfast.
“Foster’s Bakery. Down town.” I glance at my phone to see it’s just past five a.m. “They just opened.”
He hooks an arm around my neck and we walk to his car. “Let’s go.”
The lady working the counter at the donut shop looks half asleep as she boxes up four dozen donuts and takes Wyatt’s money. “Hungry?” I tease.
“I figured the fireman and officers might be.” He shrugs and picks up the boxes.
“What?” he asks after we return to the car. I might’ve been staring at him again, waiting on him to spontaneously sprout wings or shining armor.
“Are you always so perfect? It’s kind of annoying.”
His laughter fills the car. “I’m far from perfect. I have more than most so it’s not like it’s a real sacrifice to give to others.”
My phone blares to life in my pocket. Who the hell is calling before six in the morning?
“What the hell is going on?” Jani demands as soon as I answer.
“Scarlet Toys is on fire.”
“No shit! Damn it! Was it the protesters?”
“We’re assuming.”
Wyatt parks in front of Scarlet Toys, which is now smoldering and smoking. He gets out of the car to take the donuts to the first responders while I talk to Jani.
“I guess we’re job hunting again. Fuck. I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” she moans.
“Actually, Wyatt said he’s going to continue paying us while he rebuilds. He doesn’t want anyone to quit.”
The information must stun her into silence because it’s a few seconds before she replies, “You’re kidding.”
“Nope, dead serious.”
“You better blow that man until the top of his head pops off.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” I laugh. “I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
Wyatt walks up and hands me a napkin with a donut tucked inside before leaning against his car and taking a bite of his.
The sun is starting to come up, illuminating the scene in front of us. Scorched dildos, lingerie, and random sex toys lay scattered across the lot. Most are melted and misshapen, the rubber and plastic bubbled up.
“It looks like the inventory is a total loss, but not the building. It’ll take the inspectors and insurance adjusters a week or so to get everything worked out. There’s not much I can do here in the meantime, so I’m going to spend a few days back in Indianapolis,” Wyatt tells me.
“Is this going to screw things up between you and your father?”
“No, he’ll rub it in a bit, since this is the reason he won’t open stores in small towns, but he knows I won’t give up.” He flashes me that devastating smile. “It’s not in my nature.”
“I talked to Jani. She knows what happened. Would you like me to call Martha and Clarence?”
Wyatt nods. “If you wouldn’t mind. I have a bunch of calls to make before we get ready to leave.”
Wait, what?
“We?”
He grins at me. “Did I forget to mention you’re coming with me?”
“You must have. Is there anything else I’m doing that you forgot to mention?”
He tilts his head back and scratches his chin. “Let’s see. You’re going to Indy with me, we’re going to hang out and relax, and have lots of dirty sex.”
Grabbing his waistband, I pull him toward me. “Anything else I should know?”
He shrugs. “Road head is a given.”
“Not sure I could drive with you doing that, but yes, I’d like to go with you. Since you asked so nicely.” I stand on my toes and plant a soft kiss on his lips. His gaze darkens a little when I look him in the eye and ask, “Are you okay?”
His chest rises and falls on a deep sigh. “I’m pissed.”
“Good. So am I.”
“And I want to take you home and nail you to the bed.”
“After you make your phone calls,” I promise, and smack him on the ass. “I’ll call the others.”
“Tell them I’ll put their checks in the mail weekly and be in touch when we’re ready to re-open.”
* * * *
Wyatt’s place in Indianapolis really opens my eyes to how different we are. I expected a big house, but the fancy, down town penthouse outdoes anything I anticipated. He has his own private elevator that empties into a foyer half the size of my apartment.
“We’ll just drop off our bags, then head over to meet with my father.”
My head jerks up. “You want me to go with you? To meet your father?”
“Unless you’d rather not. I’d like to introduce him to the manager who can handle anything,” he replies with a grin.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. There’s definitely a bit of both emotions running through me as I take a deep breath. For a second, I thought he was introducing me to his father, like a girlfriend or someone important to him. It makes sense he would want to show him one of his new hires. I really need to stop reading too much into this trip.
Wyatt shows me around the penthouse. His living room is a bachelor’s dream with a large sectional couch wrapped around a coffee table. A massive television hangs from the wall and multiple gaming systems rest on a shelf underneath.
“You’re a total gamer nerd, aren’t you?”
“I’m a tech nerd,” he corrects, leading me into the kitchen.
He isn’t kidding. His kitchen is full of bright, shiny appliances that would look completely at home in a futuristic movie. The refrigerator has a damn touchscreen on the front. “Wow, do you like to cook or is a robot chef going to pop out of a cabinet and start making dinner?”
“Nah, I save the robots for the bedroom.”
“As long as it’s a male robot. I don’t like vagina, metal or otherwise.”
Grabbing me around the waist, he pulls me against him and the smile on his face makes me want to strip him. “You have a smart comeback for everything, don’t you?”
“It’s a gift.” I shrug, trying to conceal the response he always seems to elicit from me.
He drops a kiss on my lips and steps back. “Make yourself at home. I’ve got to get some paperwork together and then we’ll go.”
“Sure.”
Make myself at home? This place is so upscale and pristine, I’m afraid to touch anything. I feel like a kid in a curio shop where one wrong move could destroy everything. I wander into the living room and take a seat on a couch. I can’t help but run my hands over the material. It’s so soft it’s like petting a blow dried baby duck.
I assumed Wyatt didn’t exactly do without anything, but sitting in his penthouse, surrounded by all this splendor I’ve never even come into contact with before, I realize he’s much better off than I thought. It’s a good thing our little fling is temporary because I can’t imagine I could ever fit into his world.
I glance down at my clothes. I’m just wearing jeans and a tee shirt, my usual go to outfit, but I suddenly feel like a poor urchin drug in off the street.
Wyatt pops into the room juggling a briefcase and a few file folders. “Shit,” he murmurs as he drops one and the papers scatter across the floor.
“Come on Lawson, get it together,” I tease, and pick up a sheet that landed near me.
My jaw drops and I feel my heart speed up at the sight of the company letterhead.
It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Cavenite Entertainment? I—your company is Cavenite Entertainment?”
Cavenite is a household name. They not only own and operate adult entertainment stores, but also own multiple production companies, both in television and music. They created one of the first and most popular streaming services for movies and television, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. They have their hands in so many industries, they’re often spoken of in the same breath as Disney or Amazon.
The heirs to the Cavenite fortune—Vince and Wyatt Cavenite—have graced the covers of magazines since they were children. How did I not realize before who he is?
Looking up at him, I utter, “You’re Wyatt Cavenite. Not Lawson.”
A cautious expression steals across his face. “Lawson is my middle name.”
“What—why didn’t you tell me?”
With a sigh, he pulls me down to sit beside him on the couch. God, his father is a billionaire. The couch might actually be made from baby ducks.
“Because I wanted to be successful without using my father’s name. It opens doors for me that I’d rather pry open myself. And because of the way people treat me, like I’m a different species because my family has money.” The corner of his lip tucks in and he gazes at me. “Because of the look on your face right now.”
Damn. He’s right. “Pfft, like I’m so impressed by your fancy shmancy stuff.”
A small grin cracks his lips.
“I have to know one thing though. And I want to know the truth.” He bites his lip, waiting for me to continue. “What is this couch made of? Because I don’t think I can hang out with someone who murders baby ducks.”
His face blanks for a few seconds before he breaks into laughter. “What the hell are you talking about?”
My hand travels across the creamy soft material. “It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt.”
“So it must be made of baby ducks?”
“Oh no. It’s bunnies isn’t it?”
Cracking up again, he pulls me to my feet. “I have no idea what my couch is made from. This place belonged to my brother before me, and he hired a decorator. I’m rarely here. I prefer my cabin on Monroe Lake. In fact, after I finish what needs done here, I was thinking we’d head down there.”
“You have a lake house?”
“Yeah, I’m not a big fan of living in the city. Would you like to go? We can swim and go fishing or just lie around and relax. In between marathon sex sessions of course. If you’d rather stay here—”
“You had me at marathon sex,” I interrupt, holding up my hand.
“All right then. Let’s go meet my father, then we’ll spend the night here and leave in the morning.”
Following him back to the elevator, I glance down at my clothing again. Once we’re inside and headed down to the parking garage, I can’t help but ask, “I—I’m not exactly dressed to visit a multibillion dollar company. Your father is going to think you drug me in off the street.”
Wyatt faces me and places his hands on my shoulders. His eyes lock onto mine. “No, he’s not like that. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing. The only thing he’s going to wonder is how I got such a beautiful woman to put up with me.”
My hand travels to wrap around his neck. “You are completely full of shit,” I tell him, punctuating my words with a long kiss that makes him groan.
“Are you calling me a liar?” I don’t have a chance to reply before he’s kissing me, his hand kneading my ass.
“Yep. I’m sure women are throwing themselves at your feet.” I bring my lips to his neck and tug on the hair at his nape.
“Not for the right reasons.”
He steps forward, making me back up against the wall of the elevator. “Are we arguing?” I ask as he grips my ass harder and sucks at my collarbone.
“Best argument ever,” he murmurs.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. “We should totally argue some more when we get back.”
Grabbing my hand, we head to the car. “Deal.”
* * * *
Cavenite Entertainment is housed in one of the tallest buildings in down town Indianapolis. Wyatt parks in an underground parking garage and leads me inside. The two security guards working the desk pause from checking the plastic, laminated ID’s of the people entering long enough to nod and smile at us.
When we reach the elevators, they pop open and we stand aside for a group of employees to rush past. Despite Wyatt’s reassurance, I still feel like I stick out worse than a dick in a convent. The women are dressed in designer business attire and all of them wear heels while the men wear expensive suits similar to the one Wyatt wore when I met him. It’s like you can smell the money the second you step near them.
I suppose I shouldn’t worry. After the first few days in Morganville, Wyatt ditched the suit for more casual clothes like the ones he’s wearing now and he seems completely comfortable. Of course, he’s the owner’s son, he could probably walk in wearing swim trunks and clown makeup and they’d still nod respectfully.
A tall blonde with the figure of a supermodel steps out last and her face lights up with a smile. “Wyatt! I was wondering about you. I’m glad to see you’re back.” She sticks her lips out in a pout I’m assuming she thinks is sexy. “We should get together again this weekend.”
Her eyes scan over me as she speaks, and she sneers, taking in my plain brown hair and casual clothes. Standing up straight, I look her in the eye. I might feel a little self-conscious and out of my element here, but I know her type. No stuck-up bitch is going to make me feel small.
Wyatt must understand what she’s doing as well because he drapes his arm around my waist when he replies. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Fredericks, but as you can see, my social calendar is full at the moment. If you’ll excuse us.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, we step into the elevator. A smile creeps across my face at the sight of the outraged expression on hers, and I can’t resist a little wave as the doors close.
“An old friend of yours?” I tease, poking him in the side.
“An old mistake. I took her out two years ago and she’s never let me forget it. Vapid bitch.” His palm travels across his forehead.
“Wyatt!”
“Seriously, she asked me what the name of the ship was in the Titanic movie.”
We’re still laughing when the doors open into a massive lobby. Another blonde sits at the expansive desk and she smiles like she’s hit a lottery when she sees Wyatt. Yeah, this is pretty much what I expected.
“Ms. Lincoln, how are you?” he greets.
“I’m just fine. It’s good to see you again. Your father didn’t mention you were coming.”
“That’s all right, Kelly,” a gruff voice interrupts. My head spins to see a bulky man, maybe sixty years old, with salt and pepper hair. Smiling at us, he gestures for us to follow him. “Come on in. We have a few minutes before the board meeting.”
So, this is his father. I can see the resemblance. They have the same copper colored eyes that can’t decide whether they’re brown or gold. After we’re lead into a large, plush office, Wyatt introduces us.
“Cassidy, I’d like you to meet my father, Adam Cavenite. Dad, this is Cassidy West.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Cavenite,” I say, shaking his outstretched hand.
“Please, call me Adam. I hear you’re Wyatt’s right hand woman at his new store.”
“I’m very happy to have the opportunity.”
Wyatt gestures for me to sit and then takes a seat in the chair beside me. Adam sits back with a little smirk on his face.
“So, burned down after a month, huh? You ready to try a different area? A little more populated?” The self-satisfaction in his voice makes me cringe. He actually sounds happy that his son’s venture is struggling.
Wyatt seems unperturbed. “Not at all. I’m waiting to hear from the building inspector and I’ll get busy rebuilding. We’ll be open again in six weeks or so, I’d estimate.”
Adam shakes his head. “Stubborn until the end.”
“We’re nowhere near the end. My Faristown location is doing well, turning a profit, and based on the first month’s sales in Morganville, the new store will be even more successful.”
“If you can keep it standing.”
“A minor setback,” Wyatt insists.
The tension in the room is suffocating as they fall quiet and proceed to stare one another down. The voice of the Animal Channel narrator plays in my head.
Here you see the alpha male in its natural habitat, facing down an offspring to show he’s still dominant, but the aggression is wasted on the next generation, as he’s poised to replace the aging pack leader.
Finally, Wyatt gets to his feet and holds out his hand to me. “Cass, I’ll show you to our lounge where you can wait for me. I have to attend a board meeting.”
“It was nice meeting you, Ms. West,” Adam says, stressing my name to draw attention to the fact that Wyatt called me Cass.
“You too,” I mumble as we leave.
“Sorry about that,” Wyatt says as soon as we’re out of earshot. “My father is a little…intense.”
“It’s fine.”
I’m guided to the empty lounge which boasts a comfortable couch, a shiny wooden table and chairs, kitchenette, and a giant television. “There are plenty of drinks and snacks in the fridge,” he tells me while handing me the TV remote. “I’ll be back in less than an hour. I promise.”
His shoulders are hunched a bit and his face is drawn. I’ve never seen him so tense, even when Scarlet Toys was burning. Before he can rush off, I slide my arms around his waist and hug him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine right here. Go do what you need to do. Show them you’ve got this. Then I’ll reward you when we get back to your place.”
His arms tighten around me for a few seconds before he looks down at me. His face relaxes into a smile and he kisses my forehead. “You’re too damn good for me. An hour and we’re out of here, sweetheart.”
The endearment is still ringing in my ears when he leaves.
I have the lounge to myself for the entire hour until Wyatt returns. I spend most of the time on my phone, looking for some new patterns and ideas for stuffed animals. There’s a really cute snow leopard design, but I might have trouble finding the material.
My mom loved to sew and after she made me a little stuffed kitten when I was nine, I begged her to teach me. I’ve been making animals ever since.
Wyatt appears in the doorway, his posture tense. “Ready to go?” he asks, forcing a smile.
I wonder why he wants to be in charge here when the whole place seems to stress him out. “Sure. Are you okay?”
“I’m good. I’m ready to get you home and in my bed.”
“We might need to eat at some point.”
Wyatt shoots me a devious grin as we step out of the elevator into the parking garage. “That’s the plan.”
“Food,” I laugh. “I’m going to need some actual sustenance to keep up with you.”
His car glides smoothly onto the highway. “I know a good Italian place that has take-out.”
“Sounds good to me.”
For some reason, I expected a high scale restaurant, but he pulls into a little hole-in-the-wall place near his apartment. It smells amazing inside and the woman who waits on us is pleasant and friendly.
“Your usual?” she asks Wyatt.
He looks down at me. “I usually get a half and half. Half spaghetti and half alfredo. They also have delicious ravioli and tetrazzini if you’d rather try that.”
“I’ll just have what you’re having. I’m not picky.”
“Double my usual, plus garlic bread,” he tells her, and she jots it down before heading in the back.
There are a couple of ancient arcade video games tucked into the corner and I grin when I see a tabletop version of Tetris where two players can compete. My mom had an old gaming system and I played Tetris until my hands were numb.
“Want to play?” I ask, digging a few quarters from my pocket.
His lip turns up in a smirk. “Tetris?”
“Hey, if you aren’t any good at it…” I shrug and walk toward the machine.
He drops into the chair across from me. “Play until they call our name? Highest score wins?”
“You’re on.”
We plunk in the quarters and hit start at the same time. Now, I know Wyatt is a gamer, judging by the multiple systems in his living room, but Tetris is a little before his time and way before mine. I’m counting on that little fact to give me an advantage.
And it does.
While he watches carefully to line up each piece, I instantly turn and drop mine, leaving an open space on the end while I set up for a Tetris. Wyatt peeks over at my screen and scoffs. I’m sure it looks like I’m losing since I’ve built up over half of the screen. His smug look fades when I finally get the lines I’ve been waiting for.
Three in a row. Bam Bam Bam. Three Tetris’s.
The machine plays the little tone and moves onto the next level. By the time the woman calls his name, I’m three levels ahead of him and not even breaking a sweat. It’s been a while since I played, but it’s still second nature to me.
“Keep going,” he encourages, standing behind me with our food.
“Nah, we’ll be here all night. My personal best was level twenty.” I stand up and push my chair in, letting the pieces build up until the game ends.
“So, do you like any games from this decade?” he asks as we get back on the road.
“My mom had an old game system. It’s the only one I’ve ever tried to play. I’ve never really been into it, but I’d give it a try.” I grin at him. “You just want to play a game where I won’t wipe the floor with you.”
“Guilty.” His lips twitch. “I’d also like to see what you could do on a first-person shooter. You have fast reflexes.”
When we get inside his apartment, he places the bag of food on the counter, and I make a quick detour to use his bathroom. As I’m stepping back through the door, an arm wraps around me from behind, and his warm breath is in my ear.
“The food can wait,” he murmurs. “You’re too sexy. I can’t stand it.”
“Wow, Tetris really turns you on,” I giggle, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck.
“You really turn me on.”
After a thoroughly satisfying hour in Wyatt’s huge bed, and another quickie in his shower that could double as a roman bath, my stomach gives a loud growl.
“Hands off, you sex fiend. I’m starving,” I tell him when he runs his palm between my legs.
Wyatt’s hand grabs mine as I’m stepping out of the shower. “Are you going to leave me in here all alone?”
“I’m sure you’ll survive while I heat up our food.”
“Ditched for a plate of spaghetti,” he teases, stepping back into the spray and grabbing a bottle of shampoo.
It isn’t until I’m in his kitchen that I remember it’s like the command center of a damned space ship. I have no idea how to work any of this shit. Thankfully, they apparently can’t make a microwave too fancy for me to figure out so I manage to heat up our pasta, but the toaster oven is another story.
It’s one of those toaster/ convection / infrared / rotisserie / so smart it could probably overthrow the human race type of contraptions. I’m at a loss looking at all the dials and temperature controls.
Wyatt struts in the room wearing a pair of sweat pants, his hair still damp. “I was going to heat up the bread, but I have no idea how to work this,” I confess.
“It’s voice activated. Just tell it what to do.”
Seriously? The lives of rich people are so different.
Wyatt walks into the pantry while I put two pieces of bread into the little metal beast. After closing the door, I say, “Toast.”
Nothing happens. It’s not even warming up.
“Turn on. Heat.”
Again nothing.
“On, damn it!”
Is there a certain word to make it work? “Dick,” I grumble. I turn around to call for Wyatt and find him standing in the doorway, his entire body shaking with laughter.
Fuck. I’m an idiot.
“You asshole!” I exclaim, shoving him.
His words come out in little gasps. “I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think you’d really do it.”
“Look at this place! Voice activation wasn’t hard to believe.”
He runs a hand through his hair, still laughing at me. “You called my toaster a dick.”
“I hate you.” I’m sure he doesn’t believe that since I can’t suppress my smile.
His arms wrap around my middle, pulling my back to his chest and he kisses the top of my head. “No, you don’t.”
“I’ll get you back. You’ll never see it coming.”
“I look forward to it.”
He walks over and turns a few knobs on the oven, and it starts to glow. “Plates are in that cabinet,” he says, gesturing.
“Let me guess, I need a password, or maybe I have to touch it three times or some bullshit?” I giggle.
“Nah, you just have to be naked.”
Shooting him a dirty look, I grab two plates from the cabinet. He places two sets of silverware beside them and pours us both a drink. It’s silent for a few minutes while we both dig into the food.
“So, is everything okay at work?”
“Everything’s fine. Same as usual.”
“Your dad really wants to win, doesn’t he?” I know they have a little bet, but I figured it was just a father’s way of challenging his son, letting him test his skills before he takes charge, but after today’s meeting, I don’t think so. It seemed like he genuinely wanted Wyatt to fail.
“Picked up on that, huh?” Wyatt takes a bite, then sits back. “He’d rather my brother, Vince, take over when he retires, but Vince isn’t interested in any of it. He’s an artist with no desire to run a business. So, he’s stuck with me. He’s not crazy about my ideas though, so if this venture fails, he assumes I’ll give up and do things his way.” He grins at me. “Not going to happen. If I’m running the business, then I’m running it my way.”
I understand what he’s saying, but it’s still sad. “Does it bother you that he’s rooting for you to fail?”
“No, it just makes me try harder.” My glass clinks as he refills it. “You’ve never told me about your family. I know you said your mother passed, but do you see your dad? Have any brothers or sisters?”
“I don’t know my father. He bailed when I was a toddler. Mom was an only child and so am I, so I don’t have any relatives.”
Wyatt blinks and gazes at me. “That has to be tough. Having no family.”
“I don’t really think about it. I have good friends, and I assume I’ll have a family of my own when I’m ready.” Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I turn the subject back to him. “What about your mother? Is she in the picture?”
“She lives in California. They divorced a few years ago and she moved in with a guy. I see her a few times a year, holidays and such.”
He gets to his feet and puts our plates into the dishwasher. Turning to me with a grin, he asks, “Do you want to tell it to wash?”
I throw a dishtowel at him. “Just keep it up. Payback is almost as big a bitch as me.”
We spend the rest of the evening watching movies on his ridiculously huge television before heading to bed in the early hours of the morning. He’s a natural night owl, just like me.
We sleep until nearly noon, and pack up to head to his cabin on Monroe Lake. Wyatt is in a good mood, maybe because he heard back from the building inspector and insurance company. It looks like we’ll be back in business in about a month.
When we pull into the long, wooded drive that leads to his cabin, his shoulders soften and he seems as relaxed as I’ve ever seen him. All that ambition must be stressful.
The cabin is modest sized and all the furniture has obviously been chosen with comfort in mind. “I love it,” I exclaim, falling back onto the king-sized bed.
“You haven’t seen the view yet.”
I follow him out to the back deck and I instantly know I’m never going to want to leave this place. Clear water reflects the blue of the sky, with tiny sparkles caught from the sun. His deck steps lead down to the bank where a kayak bobs beside a small dock. The lake is surrounded by woods, broken only by a few other houses.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe.
He takes a deep breath. “I love it here, especially in the late summer when the city is sweltering.”
I take a seat at the patio table while he messes with a grill in the corner. “How do you like your steak?”
“Medium. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You can grab a few potatoes from the bin in the kitchen.”
While I’m wrapping the potatoes in foil, he throws the steaks on the grill. “Do you like fish?”
“Sure.”
He turns and grins at me. “If we can catch a few tonight, I’ll grill them tomorrow.”
“I’ve never been fishing before. Sounds fun.”
Dinner is delicious. I swear I’m going to keep him around just to cook me steak. I’m a little surprised when he pulls out a joint as the sun goes down. I know he said he smokes occasionally, but I’ve never seen him. I guess this is the perfect place for it though.
We sit and watch the sun go down while we smoke.
“Still want to learn to fish?” he asks.
I assumed he meant during the day, but why not?
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
* * * *
What was I thinking?
I’m so far outside of my comfort zone here, it’s barely a speck in the distance. I’m a city girl. I grew up in a big city, then moved to the small town. At no point have I been out in the woods or at a lake at night.
You know that beautiful, glittery water I described when I first saw it? It’s somehow become a flat black expanse with god only knows what horrors lurking beneath the surface. Maybe it’s the little bit of weed we smoked or just the fact that I’m a foot away from the edge of the dock and one trip could see me plunged into the dark abyss that surrounds me, but it’s seriously creepy.
Wyatt hands me a fishing pole with the hook already baited. “What are you grinning about?” he asks, smiling.
“Just resisting the urge to make a master baiter joke. You’ll have to show me what to do. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
His chest is warm against my back as he steps up and puts a hand over mine, guiding me and demonstrating how to cast. “Now, watch the bobber,” he says, pointing to the tiny orange dot. “If it dips under, jerk the line, then reel it in.”
Okay, sounds simple enough.
Wyatt bends over and digs through the tackle box looking for something, and I take the opportunity to admire his ass in the moonlight. It’s eerily quiet for a minute until Wyatt calls out, startling me. “You have a bite! Reel it in!”
Damn it. I was supposed to be watching the bobber, not his ass. I quickly start reeling and I can feel the resistance against the line, although it isn’t strong. A few seconds before my catch breaks the water, I sort of…panic.
I blame the weed for the sudden fear that I’m going to pull some freaky huge creature bred in nuclear waste from the dark depths. I shove the pole into Wyatt’s stomach. “You do it!”
Deep laughter echoes across the lake as he takes it and turns the reel a few more times. My laughter mixes with his when the killer mutant creature breaks the surface of the water. It bears a suspicious resemblance to a tiny fish.
He unhooks it and holds up the pitiful little thing. “Want a picture with this monster?”
“Shut up.”
He thrusts the fish towards me, opening and closing its mouth with his finger. “Aw, don’t be mean. I didn’t mean to scare you. Give me a kiss.”
Giggling, I grab the fish from his hand and toss it back into the water. “I’m not scared of a fish.”
“So you just threw the pole at me for shits and giggles?” he teases.
“Hey, it’s dark as a damn pocket out here. You can’t get a city girl high and then surround her with dark water. I was waiting for a sea monster to surface.”
His chest vibrates as he wraps his arms around me. “Nah, they only live in salt water. Here you only have to worry about piranhas or gators.”
“There are no gators in southern Indiana!”
“Fine, but there are catfish big enough to bite off an appendage or two.”
“Very funny,” I grumble, taking my pole back. “Give me a worm. I want to try again.”
The worm freaks out when I pierce it with the hook and I almost drop it, but I’m determined not to freak out over something stupid again. Wyatt watches as I bait the hook and nods after I cast the line again. “Good job. Just try not to cross the lines.”
“Or all life as we know it will stop instantaneously, and every molecule in your body will explode at the speed of light?”
His lips raise in a crooked grin. “Just watch your bobber, Egon.”
I love how he doesn’t seem affected by my weirdness. I just threw a fishing pole at him, then quoted Ghostbusters and he seems genuinely amused. It’s rare to find someone who really gets you, but I think he does.
Wyatt gets his own line in the water, and we sit side by side on the dock. I finally start to relax and soak in our surroundings. Bright stars hang overhead, so vibrant and gorgeous, I just want to reach out and grab one. A slight breeze kicks up, making the water lap against the bank in a soothing rhythm.
My attention returns to the water just in time for me to see the bobber dip below the surface. “I got one. What do I do?” I exclaim, jumping to my feet.
“Yank the line to get it hooked, then reel it in.” Wyatt stands beside me and breaks into laughter again when I pull the line out of the water to reveal another tiny fish.
“Hey, it’s not like you’re catching anything!” I giggle. This is actually fun. I’ve never really understood why people would like fishing, but I get it now. It’s relaxing and peaceful, but exciting when you catch one.
He shows me how to get the fish off the hook, then tosses it back.
I bait the hook and cast again and I swear the line barely touches the water when I have another bite.
And another, even smaller fish.
“It’s not funny,” I insist, fighting back a giggle. It is, though. It is funny. Especially when it happens again.
And again.
By now, Wyatt isn’t even trying not to laugh.
“I give up,” I tell him, tossing the pole aside.
“Probably a good decision. We might want to leave a few baby fish in the lake.”
“I’ll just gather up all these huge catfish that you caught…wait a minute…” I look around like I’ve lost something. “Where did they all go?”
“Probably busy taking care of all the injured children.”
“Don’t say that!” I exclaim, shoving him.
I swear I didn’t mean to push him hard. I don’t know if I’m unaware of my own strength or his balance sucks, but he trips, drops the pole and stumbles off the dock and into the water.
Oh god. I killed him.
I pushed him into the black water and he’s going to be eaten by the Lochness monster. The water bubbles where he went under.
“Wyatt!” I scream. Oh shit. He’s not coming back up. What if he can’t swim? I’m not a strong swimmer and I have no idea how deep the water is.
The longest thirty seconds of my life passes as I repeatedly call his name. Finally, I hear a chuckle coming from behind me and spin around so fast, my vision takes a second to focus on the dark figure standing shoulder deep in the water beside the opposite side of the dock.
Okay, so the water isn’t deep.
“That wasn’t funny!”
“Hey, you shoved me in.” He climbs out, raining drops onto the wooden dock.
“It was an accident! I thought you drowned or something!”
He reaches out and grabs me, pulling me against his soaked body. “Aw, were you worried about me?” he teases.
“You’d better be worried about your balls if you pull any shit like that again.” I can’t help the smile on my face. “Now let me go. You smell like old fish.”
His smile widens, and we head back up toward the cabin. “You’re awfully judgmental for a baby fish murderer.”
The next few days are a glorious mixture of relaxation, sex, swimming, sex, laughing, and sex. It’s the best vacation I’ve ever had and I could spend the rest of my life hiding away in this cabin with Wyatt. Too bad we’ll have to get back to life eventually.
I’m standing in the kitchen, trying to decide what to make for dinner while Wyatt paces back and forth across the back deck.
Whoever he’s talking to on the phone isn’t telling him anything he wants to hear. His hand runs through his hair and he blows air through his lips before ending the call.
“Is everything okay? Is the rebuilding not going well on the store?” I ask when he steps inside.
“Our store is fine, but it looks like I have an issue at the one in Tennessee. The books show everything is fine, but sales took a deep dip for no apparent reason. It looks like someone has been stealing.” He cocks his eyebrow at me. “Are you up for another road trip?”
“Sure, but if you’d rather handle it on your own, you can drop me home on the way.”
He steps up behind me and plants a kiss on the back of my neck. “I want you to come with me.”
God, he can drive me crazy with the smallest touch. “Fine, but you know the rules. If you kiss my neck, you have to put out.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when I’m bent over the counter, my panties at my feet and my shirt shoved up my back. I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper before his fingers dip inside me. “You always have a condom within reach,” I giggle.
“I’m travelling with a beautiful woman who has an ass I want to bite.” His palm leaves a sting on my cheek. “I’m not missing out on an opportunity.”
Light kisses down my spine halt my giggles, and I groan as he sinks in so damn deep. My feet dangle an inch above the kitchen tile, and I hold onto the far edge of the counter like it’s trying to escape as he pounds into me.
His hands grip my hips and he lifts me a bit, adjusting his angle and hitting a spot that makes me cry out.
“Right there, huh,” he murmurs.
“Yes! Fuck! Don’t…”
My words are stolen by the powerful spasms seizing my body, and all I can do is ride it out, reveling in the heat streaking across my skin. I swear this man is a fucking voodoo sex sorcerer. No one else can draw these reactions from my body, not even me.
Soft kisses fall on my neck and shoulders and I hum. My voice shakes a little when I say, “Well, that was unexpected.”
“You asked for it, baby. I’m always a second away from fucking you. Anytime and anywhere you want it.”
And there goes my vagina, planning a future with him when my brain knows it’s all temporary.
After a quick shower, we get packed and head out for the drive down to Tennessee.
* * * *
Scarlet Toys South, as Wyatt has been calling it, is a little larger than the one I manage. It makes sense I guess, since the city is a bit more populated as well.
“I’m not sure they count as a small town if their McDonalds is open twenty-four hours,” I point out as we park just outside the back entrance.
“The one in Morganville closes?”
“At ten. We do have a supercenter though.”
“Moving up in the world,” he chuckles, grabbing my hand as we head inside.
I’m a little surprised. I assumed he’d want to remain professional here, at his other place of business. Maybe he just isn’t going to mention I manage the other Scarlet Toys.
A bell goes off as we step inside and a petite, dark headed woman glances up at us. She does a quick double take, then quickly straightens her spine and rushes around the counter. “Wyatt, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Surprise.” He walks over to the counter and gestures to me. “Cass, this is Joanne Michaels, assistant manager of Scarlet Toys South. Joanne, this is Cassidy West, General manager of Scarlet Toys North.”
The smile on her face is as fake as her eyelashes when she replies, “It’s so nice to meet you.” A slight frown creases her lips as she notices he hasn’t released my hand. “And I told you to call me JoJo.”
Wyatt only grins in response before asking, “Is Diana off tonight?”
“She left a few minutes ago. Do you want me to call her?”
“That’s not necessary. I know where she keeps the books. We’ll be in the office.”
Joanne twists the ring on her finger and her voice wobbles a little as she asks, “Is everything okay?”
The smile on Wyatt’s face isn’t one I’ve seen before. It’s forced, and I realize what I’m seeing is anger, bubbling just under the surface. “Everything’s fine. Just checking in, routine stuff.”
Joanne’s head bobs and her shoulders relax a little. A customer approaches the counter, so her attention is diverted as we head back to the office.
“You think she’s the one?” I whisper, taking a seat in an office twice the size of the one at my store.
“I do now. She doesn’t exactly have a poker face, does she?”
“She went from eye fucking you to fidgeting pretty fast.”
A thought jumps into my head as Wyatt pulls out a stack of paperwork. “Did you fuck her too? She’s a manager. Are you a serial manager fucker, Wyatt?”
A snorting laugh escapes him. “No, I don’t have a manager fetish.” His lips cock up in a little smirk. “Are you jealous, Cassidy?”
Damn it.
“Of course not.”
“Uh-huh.” I want to smack that satisfied little grin off his face.
I lean my chair back and gaze around the room. “Don’t worry. I know this is just temporary. I’m not reading more into it.”
My breath catches when he grabs the arms of the chair and leans on them, bringing the feet back to the ground and damn near giving me a heart attack. “Asshole! I thought I was going to fall.”
His eyes are intense as they focus on mine. “Who said this is temporary?”
“You’re only in town for a few months. And I said I wasn’t looking for anything serious.”
“Doesn’t matter what you’re looking for. That’s not how it works. When something good falls into my path, I don’t veer around it.”
Is he saying what I think he is? “And I’m…something good?” I murmur.
I’m still pinned in by his arms, his eyes burning into mine. “You’re something amazing. Funny and smart, hardworking and beautiful. And you actually care about other people. That’s a rare combination, so don’t tell me that this is temporary. Tell me this is something you want as much as I do.”
I’m caught up in his words and the intensity of his gaze as he waits for me to answer. “You want a real relationship,” I finally state.
“We have a real relationship. I want you to know our real relationship doesn’t have an expiration date.”
“Okay.”
Standing up, he grins at me. “Okay? That’s all I get?”
“What? You need to hear me say that I think you’re sweet, you make me laugh, and I love every minute I spend with you even when we’re just lying around doing nothing?” I tease, getting to my feet and looping my arms around his neck.
His hands land on my hips and he pulls me against him. “And I’m devastatingly hot, don’t forget that.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re kind of cute.”
“Cute! Bunnies are cute. Puppies are cute. I’m—”
“Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself. I didn’t say you were as cute as a bunny. That’s a pretty high bar. A puppy, maybe. Unless it’s one who trips over his ears then—”
His lips land on mine, soft but demanding, and I groan as he slips his tongue against mine and kisses me until every inch of my skin feels alive and tingly. Somehow, I end up with a handful of his ass because I swear my hands have a mind of their own.
“You want to try that again?” he breathes in my ear after we break apart.
“Fine, you’re sexy as fuck and every time you walk into a room I want to take my panties off.”
“That’s more like it.” He swats me on the ass.
“So, we’re officially together?” I clarify.
“Yes.” He gathers up some receipts and papers. “Now let’s go to the hotel so you can get some rest while I catch a thief.”
Joanne eyes us warily when we leave. If she is the one stealing, the sight of Wyatt carrying the books and inventory sheets must scare the shit out of her.
“What’s her story?” I ask as he drives us to a nearby hotel. “Do you know anything about her? Maybe she’s desperate for money for some reason? Not that it would justify stealing. I just wondered.” I know what it’s like to struggle. What if she’s stealing money to feed her kid or something?
“She’s married to the chief of police and they’re pretty well off. She wanted the job because her kids are grown and out of the house.”
“So, she’s a bored housewife?”
“Basically.”
“And she probably thinks she can do whatever she wants because she’s married to the chief.”
Wyatt parks the car and we head inside to the rental office. “Not in my store, she can’t. I do my best to support my staff, pay a fair wage with benefits, and offer flexible schedules. In return, I expect hard work and honesty. I have no sympathy for a thief. Whoever it is, I will file charges.”
“You should,” I agree.
Our room is a suite that takes up the top half of the third floor. I’m instantly in love with it when I find it has a huge tub with jets.
Wyatt chuckles at my enthusiasm. “Go on and have a soak. I’m going to go through these reports and see what I can find.”
He doesn’t have to make that suggestion twice. Wyatt settles at a desk in the next room with his laptop and the stack of papers from the store while I fill the tub. There are tiny bottles of bath salts on the counter in the bathroom. This place is getting a fantastic review from me.
I choose a citrus scented bottle and add it to the tub before stripping down and easing into the hot water. A floor length mirror hangs on the inside of the door, so with the door open, I can see Wyatt in the reflection. His lips are pressed together as he sorts through paperwork, occasionally making notes and typing on his computer.
He has made himself comfortable, removing his shoes and socks, and changing into a t-shirt and sweats. I swear I could stare at this man until we both wither from old age. His words from earlier ring in my head and I lie back, letting myself think about how things have changed.
This isn’t a fling. It isn’t just a temporary fuck buddy situation and I don’t really know how I feel about that. I’ve been worried that I was catching feelings for him, setting myself up for future heartache when he leaves, but I never considered that he might be feeling the same way. I mean, I’m no uggo, but look at him. The man could have any woman in the world. What are the chances that this is going to work?
I know I have a tendency to overthink things, to analyze them to death, and I need to stop. Some things can’t be predicted. There are times when you just have to relax, wander the path and see where it spits you out. Fortunately, my path has crossed with a gorgeous, caring man with a cock that even the most uptight virgin would worship.
I’m not going to worry about what happens when he needs to go back to Indianapolis for good. Or think too much about how different our lives are and how that could possibly work. I’m just going to enjoy the ride and damn the consequences.
The hot bubbling water doesn’t take long to suck away my stress and I lay my head back, closing my eyes. I don’t know how much time passes before I feel like I’m being watched and drag my eyes open. I may have dozed off for a bit.
Wyatt stands in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. “You were smiling in your sleep.”
“Hmm, must’ve been dreaming about you,” I reply, stretching. “Or food. I’m starving.”
Chuckling, he grabs a large, fluffy towel and walks over to me. “I just ordered a pizza. If you can tear yourself away from the bubbles.”
My skin is puckered and wrinkly when I stand. “Damn, I have been in here too long. My skin looks like your balls.”
“You should be honored then. My balls are very attractive.” He wraps the towel around me.
“Balls are not attractive,” I snort.
“Hey, you’ll make them self-conscious.” His hand travels down like he’s comforting his nuts.
Slipping my hand down his pants, I give them a little squeeze. “Sorry, I’ll be kinder to Bert and Ernie.”
His fingers close over my nipple. “You are not naming my balls after Muppets.”
A knock at the door interrupts us. “Guess I’ll have to wait for later to play with Thing One and Thing Two. Pizza’s here.”
He delivers a stinging slap to my bare, wet ass. “Get dressed, baby.”
Wyatt inhales two pieces of pizza before returning to the desk.
“Anything I can help with?” I ask, after tucking our leftovers into the small fridge.
“I’m missing something. It’s just like Diana, the GM, said. Look.” He slides the paperwork over to me. “The cash drawers aren’t coming up short. Not more than a few cents here or there, which is normal. But it looks like sales have taken a sharp drop all at once. Yet, when compared to the inventory, it doesn’t add up. We’re selling the same amount of items for the same price, but somehow bringing in less money. I’d assume we’re missing the stock from shoplifters, but not at this rate, and some of the items are too large and obvious to walk out with.” He sits back and runs a hand through his hair.
I scan over the reports and inventory numbers before glancing at the pile of receipts on the edge of the desk. “What are those?”
“Voids,” he says, waving his hand at them in dismissal. “I checked them against the drawer counts and it adds up.”
It suddenly becomes crystal clear what’s going on.
“It’s a void scam.”
Wyatt stares up at me. “A what?”
“Look.” I gather up the receipts that have void written across them. “I knew someone who got fired from a fast food joint for this. When the cashier rings up a purchase, say for a hundred dollars, they keep the receipt instead of giving it to the customer. Customers almost never take a receipt from me or they toss it in the trash can by the door. No one is going to bring back a sex toy. The cashier marks the receipt as a void, as if the customer changed their mind about the purchase or forgot their money or whatever. Now, it looks like there’s a hundred dollars extra in the drawer because they made a sale they’re claiming was voided. All they have to do is pocket the hundred dollars and the drawer comes out even. The items are missing from inventory because they’ve been sold, but there’s no record of it.”
Wyatt thinks about it for a minute. “I have cameras pointed at the cash register. Diana didn’t check them because the drawers weren’t coming up short.” He leaps to his feet and starts throwing on clothes. “I’m going to check the feeds.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I look through the voids on the drive over and notice something that really sucks. “I might be wrong,” I mumble. “The whole void scam is usually pulled by a cashier, but these receipts are from three different employees. I can’t imagine they all know how to do this.”
“We’ll see,” he grunts.
He doesn’t say another word until we get out of the car. “They better not have changed the alarm code.”
Wyatt unlocks the door, enters the code into the alarm keypad, and we make our way into the darkened store. I flip on the lights while he retrieves two flash drives from the office and plugs his laptop in on the counter.
I grab two stools, and we sit down to watch the world’s most boring reality show.
“Jesus, does he ever stop picking his nose?” Wyatt scoffs, grimacing.
“When customers are present,” I giggle. It’s amazing what people do when they think no one can see them. They obviously forgot that the camera was watching.
The grossest moment was actually from a customer. The cashier stepped out of view to fetch something and the woman took the opportunity to scratch between her legs and promptly smell her fingers.
“Oh, another scratch and sniff,” I exclaim, shaking my head.
Wyatt regards me. “Another?”
“We had a girl on the circle that used to do that. She’d scratch her crotch or her ass and then smell her hand. Some kids called her out on it once and she told them it was to make sure her underwear was fresh. They dubbed her scratch and sniff from then on. She moved a while back.”
Wyatt stares at me like he thinks I’m screwing with him, then bursts into laughter. “That neighborhood of yours, I swear.”
“Life on the circle.” I shrug. “It’s not always pretty.”
After another hour of zooming through tapes and watching the boring transactions, Wyatt rubs a palm over his face. “I don’t see anything. No one has even opened the drawer without a sale. Unless someone has some real slight of hand, we’re missing something.”
The corner of one of the voided receipts catches my eye and it all makes sense. “It’s not the cashiers,” I exclaim, snatching up a few more receipts. “Look.”
Wyatt’s brow creases as I point out a small number two in the corner of the receipt. It’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it since it blends in with the date. “What am I looking at?”
“That little two means this was the second receipt printed for that sale.”
“You can print two receipts?”
“Yes, let’s say the paper ran out or jammed and the receipt didn’t print. Or the customer lost it and wants another copy. All you have to do is go into the system and reprint it. The only difference will be the small two, that shows it’s a copy and not the original. Plus, the time stamp shows when the copy was printed, not the original.”
Wyatt leans an elbow on the counter. “Then they voided the second receipt and took the money. Do all the cashiers know how to do this?”
“No!” I’m so excited I hop off of the stool. “That’s the point. None of them can. Only someone with the manager code can reprint the receipts. Who has the code?”
Wyatt’s lips press together. “Joanne and Diana. Diana is the one who reported the discrepancies.”
“So, it’s Joanne, like you suspected. All she had to do was wait until everyone went home at night. Reprint receipts from multiple transactions throughout the day, then void them, and take the money from the cash drawers. The drawers would never be short, the inventory would, and overall sales would fall.” I sort through the receipts in his hand. “Look, they were all printed within minutes of each other, and all after hours.”
Wyatt takes the last set of receipts and forwards the video to the time stamped on it. Sure enough, Joanne stands at the register, printing off copies of the receipts. She gathers them up and takes the cash drawer back to the office. When Wyatt switches to the recording from the office camera, there’s no doubt left.
She adds up the receipt totals and puts the money in a separate deposit envelope from the rest of the profits. Once everything is put away and locked up, she tucks both envelopes in her purse. “One for the bank and one for her,” I murmur.
Wyatt grabs me and plants a kiss on my lips. “You’re a genius.”
“Nah, above average, at most.” I flop my hand at him. “It’s the multitude of voided receipts that gave it away. I get two voids a week at most, not five or more per day. She’s really been cutting into your profit.”
“Not anymore,” he growls. “I’m filing a police report first thing in the morning.” He grabs Joanne’s personnel file and dials her number from the store phone.
“Wyatt, it’s three a.m.”
“See how many shits I give,” he mumbles. “Joanne? Yes, it’s Wyatt and I’m sure you know why I’m calling. I want your keys to the store in the drop box within the next hour or there will be officers sent to your house. You are barred from the property, and I wouldn’t expect a final check since it appears you’ve taken far more than any wages I’d owe you. One hour.” He hangs the phone up without giving her a chance to reply.
I’ve never heard him talk to anyone that way. So forceful and commanding. Still seething, he turns to me and his face softens, a smirk working its way through to the surface. “Cass?”
“Hmm?”
“Want to tell me why you’re looking at me like that?”
Trying to pull myself together, I take a step back. “I wasn’t looking at you.”
“Uh-huh, and I guess you aren’t rubbing your thighs together while your nipples try to pierce through your shirt either.”
Traitor nipples.
“Definitely not.”
His arms shoot out and I’m pulled against him, my back to his chest. His voice is hot in my ear. “You like it when I give orders? I think it gets you all worked up.”
“Yes,” I admit.
“Oh, babe. I’ll remember that.” He reaches for a small plastic paddle and dangles it in front of my face. “I’d love to give orders to a naughty employee.”
Holy shit. What did I just start? “Well, if we’re going to incorporate toys, I may have a few ideas as well.”
Chuckling, he kisses my ear then hands me a bag. “Fill it up. I’m open minded.”
A smile crawls across my face. “Anything I want to try, huh?”
“Anything. I’m going to get these papers together and turn the cameras back on. Then we’ll go.”
A loud clunk sounds from just outside, followed by the sound of an engine revving. “That was fast,” I remark.
“She probably assumes I won’t press charges if she does what I tell her.”
“But you’re going to?”
“You can bet your sweet little ass on it. Go get your toys and let’s get out of here. I’m exhausted.”
A yawn escapes me. “Me too.” Wyatt isn’t paying any attention to what I grab so I can’t resist throwing in a little something to tease him with.
We crash as soon as we get back to the hotel and sleep late. When I wake, Wyatt is sitting on the edge of the bed with a devious grin on his face. The bag from Scarlet Toys is in his hands.
“I have to say, Cass, I’m a little surprised. Who knew you were so kinky?”
“I’m not kinky! I’ve never used any of that stuff before.” His eyes zero in on my bare breasts when the blanket falls away as I sit up. He pulls out a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.
“You’d let me cuff you?”
“Would you want to?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“I mainly got them to cuff you, actually.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really?”
“Yep.” I crawl down the bed and dig into the bag. “It’ll keep you from squirming too much when I use this.” I pull out a slim, strap-on dildo and swing it in front of his face.
I swear I can practically hear his asshole pucker shut. “No way. Noooo. Not happening.”
“What happened to being open minded?”
“My mind is open. My ass is closed. Padlocked shut with a giant exit only sign.”
“Hmm, too bad. And I was going to let you try out that paddle.”
“I’m bigger than you, babe. I can paddle your plump little ass whenever the mood strikes me.”
Yeah, that threat shouldn’t turn me on the way it does. Shit, I guess I am kinky. My reaction doesn’t escape his notice, and his grin broadens. Before he can say anything, there’s a curt knock at our door.
A young man calls out, “Housekeeping!” as he enters. It takes a second for him to notice we’re still in the room. Probably because it’s past checkout time and we shouldn’t be.
His gaze lands first on the bed that is covered in an array of sex toys. Then his stunned eyes turn to me, and I squeal with the sudden realization I’m bare assed and holding a dildo in my hand.
“I’ll c-come back,” he stammers and flees the room.
Wyatt bursts out laughing, shaking the bed as I jump up and get dressed, my face burning red. “It’s not funny! He probably thinks I’m a hooker!” I cry, which just makes him laugh harder.
“Fine,” I reply, trying not to smile. “No paddle for you.”
I barely have the words out when I find myself flung across his knee. “Oh really? So, what’s this in my hand then?” He flips my skirt up, exposing my panties.
Why did I choose a skirt?
“You better never!”
Cold, smooth plastic rubs circles on my ass cheeks as I struggle to get up. “Now, fighting isn’t going to help. You let another man see your ass when it belongs to me. I’d say that’s worth at least five swats, but since it’s your first time, I’ll knock it down to three.”
“Wyatt, I swear to fuck if you—”
Swat!
It startles me more than it stings, and I feel my face ignite again. It’s the strangest sensation, being over his knee like this. Even though we’re just teasing, it’s a feeling of vulnerability I’m not used to.
“I’m going to kill you!”
Swat! Ow, okay, that one stung.
“Did that hurt?” he taunts, rubbing my ass.
“No! But when I get up—”
“It didn’t hurt? Okay, then.” His fingers slide under my panties, slipping them down my legs. I swear my face is going to combust.
But apparently not as quickly as my ass because that little plastic paddle burns like hell when it slaps against my bare ass. “Wyatt!” I squeal, and he pulls my panties back up.
He lets me up and as much as I want to glare at him, I can’t look at him. I’m too embarrassed. When I turn my back and reach for my shoes, he wraps his arms around me from behind.
“You have the sexiest, most spankable ass I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs in my ear. Apparently, embarrassment doesn’t outweigh the effect he always has on me, and I can feel my insides clench at the sound of his voice.
“I can’t believe you did that!” I exclaim, stepping out of his embrace.
“Are you upset because I spanked you or because you liked it?” I can’t seem to find any words, so he spins me around and pinches my chin between his thumbs, forcing me to look at him. “Talk to me, Cass.”
Shrugging, I mumble, “It’s embarrassing.”
His warm arms wrap around me. “You never have to be embarrassed with me. Whatever we do stays between us.” He grins down at me. “Besides, you were the one threatening to penetrate my ass.”
“Not threatening, promising,” I correct, and he shakes his head.
He drops a quick kiss on my lips. “We’d better get out of here before that boy comes back hoping for another show.”