BRYCE

We ate cold pizza.

It was the best fucking pizza I’d ever had in my entire life.

It feels like I’ve been chasing Tessa forever when it’s only been a few weeks. It’s amazing how my life has altered in that short amount of time.

For instance, the internet connection has always been terrible at this house. Had I come here more often, I would have completed the final installation of the server that would give me internet access at any time. Since I didn’t, I am stuck with no way of checking my emails, and my phone is getting the worst service. I have a few voicemails from my father that I haven’t listened to. Usually, I’m quick to return calls. Today, I don’t feel like leaving bed.

I’ve been up since six and spent a good portion of my morning watching Tessa sleep. Her lips, which are always set in a pout, are plump as she lets out tiny gasps in her sleep. At first, I thought she was having a nightmare. Turns out, she laughs in her sleep. It’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

Her long, silky hair is splayed out on the pillow. I run my fingers through it, as I have been all morning. Each time I do, she smiles softly and cuddles into me. I hold her and run my hand down her back, counting the tiny beauty marks she has on her shoulder. There are seven.

When I get up to use the bathroom, I use the one in the hallway so as not to disturb her. I throw on my pajama bottoms and brush my teeth. When I go back to the room, the bed is empty.

I walk into the living room to see Tessa standing by the bookcase, wearing my T-shirt and nothing else. She has a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird in her hands.

I walk up behind her, lace my fingers around her waist, and lean down to rest my chin on her shoulder.

“Good morning,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up.”

“The bed was cold without you.” She turns her head to kiss my shoulder and then puts the book back on the shelf.

The bookcases cover the entire wall and are filled from top to bottom. Many books are collecting dust, as they haven’t been pried open in years.

“These were my mother’s. She loved to read. We didn’t have a TV here when we were kids just so she could make sure we spent our days outside. If it rained, we either worked on puzzles or read books.”

She looks up at the hundreds of books. “How many of these have you read?”

“All of them.”

I feel her body jolt. “All of them? I can’t even sit still for a dirty romance novel.”

My groin twitches. “You read romance?”

Her shoulders rise. “Sometimes. I prefer movies though.”

“Ah, yes. The superhero variety if I recall.” My comment makes her giggle.

She relaxes into me. “Do you still like to read?”

“I don’t have as much time as I used to, but I try to sneak in a few chapters here and there.”

She spins in my arms and laces her hands around my neck. “What are you reading right now?”

“The Great Gatsby. Tanner thought I needed a lesson in the American dream,” I say.

Her brows curve together in confusion. I lean forward and kiss the line that’s formed there.

“Have you seen the movie?”

“Is Henry Cavill in it?”

“No.”

“Then, I didn’t see it.” She smiles and looks up into my eyes. “Will you read to me?”

I’ve never read out loud before. I’ve also never had a girl ask me to read out loud to her. I think I’ll like it though.

I take her hands and walk her over to the couch. There’s an afghan hanging on the back, so I lay it over her. My bag is in the bedroom, so I grab my book along with my glasses and walk back to the living room. I lift her legs and take a seat on the couch, laying her feet on my lap and propping my own on the coffee table.

I start from the beginning and read to her.

The book is short in comparison to most books, so I figure I’ll stop when she either shows signs of being hungry or bored or until she falls asleep. To my surprise, she’s not doing any of the three.

For three hours, I continue to read. She lies on the pillow with her hand draped behind her head. The sunlight pours through the back windows as we lie in a sleepy corner of the living room and enjoy an afternoon of literature and lounging.

“That’s so incredibly sad,” she says as I close the book, having read the final page.

Her tiny frown makes me laugh. “It is.”

“Who ends a book like that?”

I show her the cover. “F. Scott Fitzgerald. What did you think of it?”

She bites her lower lip as she looks back at me. “I think you have the sexiest reading voice ever.”

I grab her hand and kiss it. “Thank you. But I meant, what did you think of the book?”

She giggles. “I loved it. I didn’t know where it was going to go, but it got me thinking …”

And this is where one of the greatest conversations of my life begins. For the next few hours, Tessa and I talk. We discuss the book. We discuss infidelity. We talk about crime, expectations, and reputation. We discuss the notion of being in love with someone and watching from afar as they live a life with someone else.

I’ve been with women before, but I’ve never sat and talked with someone. Not while we hold hands and explore each other’s minds. Not while we’re cuddled on a couch in an afghan. Not while wasting an afternoon. Not like this.

When Tessa’s stomach rumbles, we order in and devour the food on the back deck. Our conversation turns to our real lives. Past stories and present.

“All Sexton boys had to learn how to dance. Austin took ballet.”

She tilts her head with squinted eyes.

I explain further, “He thought my dad would be disgusted and pull him out.”

“Did he?” she asks.

“Nope. He was so mad Austin tried to outsmart him and my mom that he went out and got him a tutu.”

“And Austin …”

“Wore a tutu to ballet class every week for a year.” I grin.

She laughs out loud as she covers her mouth full of food. “What about Tanner?”

“Jazz. That guy is a phenomenal dancer.”

When she swallows, she asks, “So, if Austin took ballet, and Tanner took Jazz, what about you?”

“Tap. Obviously,” I deadpan.

She leans over and kisses me. Believe it or not, I show her a few of my dance moves.

The sun is getting hazy in the sky when she suggests we finally get dressed. I take her for a walk along the lake. We discuss the architecture and things we love about all the houses. She likes the log-cabin homes with big windows and wraparound porches. I like the stone houses with peaked-front entryways.

We grab cinnamon rolls and coffee at a local bakery. I watch her devour hers and lick frosting off her fingers before I even take a bite. When I see her eyeing up mine, I offer it to her. She takes it, breaks it in half, and then kisses me with a mouth full of cinnamon goodness.

I finally break open that bottle of wine I brought out last night. We bring the afghan out on the deck and look at the stars while drinking our wine.

Tessa’s stories are bright and colorful. Her sense of humor is quick and witty. Her presence is addicting.

The hours have flown by, and I’m sad to see this day end. We’re not in a rush to leave, but being here, with her, makes me want to stop time for eternity.

Her eyes are really blue, but when you look at them in the moonlight, they’re strikingly violet. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never met anyone like her. I am easily becoming addicted to Tessa Clarke.

“Bryce?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh as I curl a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her long lashes hit her cheeks as she looks down to ask her question. “I can’t be one of many. What we have is amazing, but it can only work if you’re mine.”

I lay my knuckle under her chin and tilt her mouth up. Her eyes flutter open and look up at me as she waits for my answer.

“Baby, I’ve been yours since I watched you kick a garbage can on a roof. You howled at the moon, and I lost my heart that day. I’m yours, Tessa. And you are mine. Only difference is, I didn’t need to ask you that. I claimed you the moment I laid eyes on you. That is, if you want me.”

A slow smile builds on her face. She doesn’t answer me though. Hell, she doesn’t even kiss me. A profession like that should at least warrant a kiss.

Instead, she wiggles out of my arms. “I’ll be right back.”

She heads back inside and leaves me here with my heart on my sleeve. I’ve professed my love to women before. Once when I was fifteen and didn’t know the difference between love and lust. Again, when I was twenty and thought my college sweetheart was my forever girl. This time, I’m a wiser man.

She leaves me out here for ten minutes. I know how long it is because I’m staring at my watch as the seconds tick by. I decide that, if she doesn’t come back out in five, I’m going in to look for her.

I don’t have to.

The door to the deck opens, and inside stands Tessa in lavender lingerie so sweet and so sexy that I think I died and went to heaven.

“Does that mean I passed the test?” I ask, staring at her creamy thighs peeking out of the high slit.

She bites her lip. “Who said the exam’s over?”

I growl. A mean, lust-filled growl as I take my shirt off and chase her into the house. I don’t stop until I have my girl in the bed and in my arms.

And the nightie? It’s off in thirty seconds.

“Should we finally try to make it to dinner tonight?” I ask with her naked and lying on my chest.

The sun rose a few hours ago, but we wouldn’t know since we’ve been tangled in the sheets all morning.

“Going out to dinner is overrated. I think we’ve done our vacation right.” She giggles, her breath tickling my skin.

“Couldn’t agree more.” I kiss the top of her forehead, smiling from ear to ear.

I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to go back to work, and stress. When I’m with Tessa, I feel carefree. I keep thinking I should ask her to move in with me, but I know I have to stop myself from moving too fast. Our time together has been everything I ever wanted, but we have to see how things work when we’re back in reality.

I do know one thing’s for sure. I need to start relying on my employees more, so I can work less. It will take some getting used to, but knowing I have her is the best motivation I need.

“I could go for some coffee though. Where’s the pot? I’ll make us some.” She starts to get up from the bed, but I pull her down with a kiss.

“I don’t have anything here. I’ll run to the store. The service is awful here, so I can log in to the Wi-Fi and check my email.”

“I’ll come with you. My phone is on two bars, and I want to check in on Charlie.”

I take a quick shower and toss on a pair of shorts and a polo. My hair is still wet as I comb it back and head toward the front door. To my surprise, Tessa is already there. She’s showered as well with her hair pulled into a neat braid, and her face is makeup free.

“You’re gorgeous,” I say.

It’s the truth. For a woman who makes a living in making people glamorous with makeup, she is the most stunning when she has nothing on. This is my girl.

I kiss the freckles on her nose.

We take a drive to the coffee shop and head in. We order our coffees and grab a small table by the window. As soon as I log in to my email, my pulse begins to race.

One thousand one hundred and sixty-one emails.

Motherfucker.

My phone is blowing up with voicemail after voicemail and ninety-eight texts.

I’ve been away from the office for forty-eight hours. This is the most disconnected I’ve ever been, ever felt. It’s making me queasy, just looking at all of the unanswered correspondence.

“Are you okay?” Tessa lays her hand on my arm.

I brush her off. “Yes.” I motion toward my phone. “I just have to go through a few things from the office.”

“Okay. You do what you have to do. I’m gonna grab a paper and sit outside. You take all the time you need.”

When she rises and gently kisses me on the head, I feel like a complete dick for being brash.

“Thank you.” I kiss her hand before she walks away.

I’m the luckiest son of a bitch. I’d better not fuck it all up.

As I go through my emails, I’m impressed to see almost all of the issues have been handled correctly. Any fires have been put out, and the papers have all printed without concern. One of my greatest attributes is hiring the best of the best. From my editors to sales and marketing, right down to distribution, Sexton Media has a top-notch team. Even my assistant has done everything to keep me up-to-date.

While I didn’t hire Jalynn personally, I’m proud of the work she’s done. She’s also sent me her final revisions on the article Missy asked her to do. It will be printed this weekend with the digital team working on interviews and video packages about street racing. Missy might have assigned this as a way to intimidate Austin, but it has become a fantastic cross promotion for the Sexton brand. It’s enlightening, educational, and changing the landscape of San Francisco culture.

My coffee is drained before I’m through a quarter of the emails. I take the time to listen to the voicemails from my father, starting on Wednesday night.

His angry voice shouts in the message, “Bryce, this is your father. Call me back immediately. It is unacceptable for you to miss a dinner I specifically requested you to be at. You have no idea how unhappy Missy is! First, you miss dinner, and then your brother shows up with his whore of a girlfriend. Did you know your brother was fucking your assistant? That’s right. He showed up with that trailer trash, and the two of them destroyed the entire evening. They ganged up on me and Missy, and then walked out before the food was served. It was embarrassing! The things she said to me, Bryce. I should fire her on the spot. Unacceptable behavior. You’d better have a great excuse. Where the hell are you? Call me back!”

I push my fingers deep into my eyes as I rub them. Why the hell can’t Austin follow simple directions? All he had to do was go to dinner on Wednesday night. Have a drink, order a steak, and leave.

Of course, he had to go and make a fucking mockery of the event, and he brought Jalynn. I knew he was messing around with my assistant. I just hoped she had a better head on her shoulders than to get seriously involved with him. Going to a Sexton dinner is way beyond her pay grade.

I grab my phone and dial Austin’s number.

He quickly picks up. His voice is playful. “I was wondering when you were going to check up on me.”

Of course, this is all a joke to him.

My blood boils. “She said to give you space, and I did for two fucking days. As soon as I turn on my phone, it’s to find out that you can’t follow one simple direction!”

“Wait. Who is she, and what the hell are you mad about?”

“Don’t give me that shit.” My voice is curt. Rapid, angry breaths fill my lungs. “I can’t believe you brought my assistant to dinner the other night!”

“I don’t owe you any explanation for who I want to have dinner with.” He sounds so damn entitled. I don’t know why I’m surprised.

For the first time in years, I take time off, and things don’t get done the way they’re supposed to.

“You damn well know I have every right to know if you’re dating my assistant, and you can bet your ass you owe me an explanation about why you walked out on Dad and Missy before food was even served! We’re supposed to be keeping the peace, trying to keep Missy happy, not making things worse. You know she has proof you race and is trying to get you arrested.”

“Missy can kiss my ass.”

“Missy can—” I stand from the table and walk out the front door of the shop, toward the parking lot. My body doesn’t know what to do with this anger, so I keep moving. “Why are you so thickheaded?”

“I’d have to be convicted of a crime, and I’ve done nothing that would warrant anything more than a speeding ticket.”

“This is so typical, Austin,” I shout as I pace between the cars, ignoring the eyes of the other patrons walking through the lot. “Ever since we were kids, you’ve been acting like the world isn’t watching when you go off the rails. You just do what you want to do at everyone else’s expense.”

“Watch it. You’re starting to sound like Dad.”

“Maybe he and I are starting to agree on something for a change,” I say.

There’s silence on the other end. If it wasn’t for the sound of his teeth grinding, I’d think he’d hung up.

“You were supposed to be at that dinner if not to make Missy happy, then to get Dad to come to his senses. I’ve tried. I’ve been trying, and I thought maybe, for once in your fucking life, you would actually do what you were told and come through.”

“Why the hell would Dad listen to me?”

“Because you were his favorite!”

Austin’s tone changes to mock disbelief. “In what lifetime was that?”

“The one before you became an asshole teenager. He did everything with you. He’d take you to the racetrack and bring you to meet the winners. Every summer, you’d enter the soapbox derby, and he’d help you build the car. Hell, you even like the same shitty old movies he does. Dad might have been brainwashed by Missy, but there’s still the same Edward in there somewhere. I’ve been trying to get to him, but I’m out of my fucking mind with babysitting you while you’re willing to risk Mom’s memory, everything she built, on being an arrogant asshole!”

“I’m so sick of this shit. Why are you always busting my ass? I’m here, covering for you, if you’ve forgotten. Please tell me you’ll at least get your dick sucked while you’re gone. Maybe then you’ll have your brain back and truly see what’s going on around here.”

“Have you even heard a fucking thing I just said, Austin?”

“Yeah, the part where you think I don’t try every day to keep Mom’s memory alive. Maybe, if you went to visit her grave every once in a while, instead of kissing Dad’s ass, you’d remember why this company was worth fighting for.”

I throw my phone on the ground.

Running my hands on the back of my head, I pull at my hair and pace back and forth, wondering why I was such an idiot to think that I could do this. For the first time in years, I decided to step away, and what happens? My family does what they’ve always threatened to do; they fuck it all up.