Chapter Forty-Six

Carrie

The restaurant has a balcony with a stunning ocean view and Reid and I claim a cozy corner table that will allow us to eat and work, as is the plan we determined we’d follow right before leaving the cottage. We order what the waiter declares to be “world famous” macaroni n’ cheese, as well as a wine Reid wants me to try, which he favors. Soon we have our glasses filled and I decide I too love this wine. “Do I dare ask how much it costs?”

“Don’t,” he says. “Just enjoy it.” His voice is warm and his eyes warmer.

“I am,” I say, the spark between us damn near igniting. “Very much,” I add, and when I’d once felt perpetual anger toward Reid, I now feel connected. On some unspoken level we understand each other and yet, I understand too little about Reid. “But,” I add, setting down my glass, “I better drink cautiously. I’m meeting your family tonight. I can’t imagine a room with three Maxwell siblings.”

“You know Gabe, and Cat’s someone you’ll get along with. She’s independent, hard-headed, intelligent, and fiercely protective of those she loves. In other words, you two are alike.”

“And yet you and I are—compatible. I get the idea that you and your sister aren’t close. Actually, you made it sound you aren’t close to anyone.”

“If there was anyone who knows me, it would be Gabe,” he concedes. “We’re alike in ways that aren’t obvious on the surface.”

“What ways?”

“What makes us tick.”

“Which is what? Money? Power?”

“It’s deeper than that, and I know you know that.”

He means the parts of me that are about my mother. I don’t push him to explain. Those are the inner demons we all battle privately. “And Cat. Does she get you like Gabe does?”

His jaw sets and he reaches for his wine. “We’ve had problems.”

“For how long?” I ask.

“A decade.”

I blanch. “Ten years? You’ve had problems for ten years?”

“Give or take. I’ll spare you the questions. I was an asshole to her and that’s how we got where we are now.”

“Were?”

“I remain an asshole.”

“Have you apologized? Because I know you know when you’re wrong, Reid.”

“I have not.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons,” he says, giving me nothing more.

The waiter appears. “Hot plates!” he announces and then sets a monstrously wonderful looking entrée-sized macaroni n’ cheese in front of each of us.

We chat with the waiter just a minute and when he finally leaves, as much as I want to try my food, I don’t want it as much as I want to say something else to Reid. “Fix it with Cat,” I say. “She’s your sister, and like your mother, you could blink and she could be gone.”

His jaw sets hard. “That’s the point. That’s always been the point.”

My brow furrows. “What does that mean?”

He studies me for a few beats. “I’m going to the party, Carrie,” he says, avoiding the question. “We’re going. I wouldn’t have in the past—attended, much less taken anyone with me. Let that be enough.”

“Right,” I say. “I’ll leave it at that then.”

His knee connects with mine under the table and he reaches out and covers my hand with his, “For now, Carrie.”

His expression is hard, jaw firm, but there is a softness to his voice, a plea that promises his shutdown is not forever. And this right now is him telling me I’m pushing his limits, but he’s not unwilling to be pushed. And so I say, “For now.”

“For now,” he repeats. “Tell me what you think of the macaroni n’ cheese.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” I say, picking up my fork and poking the bubbly, wonderful layer of cheese.

Reid picks up his fork too and I have this moment of realization; this is our first restaurant meal together. His eyes meet mine and I read the same in him. We are no longer hate-fuck buddies. We are something more, something I cannot name, but I don’t feel the need to either. He motions to my food and together we take a bite. “Mmmm wow. Okay. I believe our waiter now. This must be world famous. This is amazing.”

His eyes warm with my reaction. He’s pleased. I’m not sure Reid is ever pleased, but he is now. “Good,” he says softly. “I wanted you to like it.”

“I do,” I reply. “I mean, this is the kind of dish you come back for.”

“Then we’ll come back. Just you and me. No Grayson on the menu. We’ll finish the weekend we planned.”

“I’d like that,” I say, warmth spreading through me. “And for the record,” I reach for my glass, “I like your wine choice more than Grayson’s.”

He laughs as the waiter reappears to check on us and by the time he’s gone, Reid and I have managed to down half our glasses of wine, and the macaroni is now cool enough to eat more heartily. We dig in and start eating and for a few moments, we both watch the ocean crash against the shore. “It’s beautiful,” I murmur.

“It is,” he says. “I like the city, but it’s been a while since I remembered the benefits of just getting away. Maybe it’s time to remember. Tell me something else I don’t know about you, Carrie.”

“I’m not complicated. I live for my job. Despite working for my father, I’m not one to lean on him or anyone. I make my own way and I like it like that. West Enterprises is everything to me. It’s where I always knew I would be.”

“Then we understand each other, as all of those things apply to me with our company. Let’s win Grayson together for both our families.”

“With Japan? I don’t like Japan, Reid. You know how Asia’s burned me and no, that has nothing to do with my brother living there, as well as presently fucking my ex-best friend, or any past history with him. The regulations and money are both hard to manage from afar.”

“I have a couple of investors who eat up the Asian markets that I trust completely and they represent big money. Because of my work with them, I’ve invested an exceptional amount of time into the understanding of the regulations there and enlisted a variety of insiders to aid my efforts. I can protect us, but then I need you. We need a project that entices them and Grayson.”

I hesitate and he notices.

“What?” he asks, pushing his food aside.

“This is an unconventional investment to pair with a law firm and it’s really not an option anyway.”

“Carrie,” he prods.

I sigh. “Okay. Right before the takeover, I was emailed a lead about the investors in a major event center—as in sports, concerts, you name it are held there—wanting out.”

“And?”

“And I dismissed because a) timing, we were in trouble. B) Asia is tricky and in light of the trouble, that seemed bad at the time, and c) the lead came from my brother who only told me because he wants some sort of payout for finding the deal. And neither one of us has a high opinion of my brother.”

“He wants to make money. We’ll make sure it makes money together.”

“Then you like the idea?” I query.

“It’s an option,” he says. “It’s thinking out of the box.”

“It’s not a for sure thing though,” I remind him, “and we have to present to Grayson next week,”

“Be honest with him,” he says. “He knows the short timeline. I might bite when I need to bite, but I play devious where devious is needed, but I do that with people who deserve it. Grayson is an honest man. He’s hard. He’s demanding. He will cut you if you cut him, but he won’t cut you just to cut you. He’ll appreciate that you don’t fluff it up.”

“But if I work this, I may not have time to come up with something else.”

“Then don’t,” he says. “Just give him an idea of how you think. He can decide if he wants to be on board with that or not. And he will.”

“You don’t know that.”

Reid leans forward. “You won me over and believe me, baby, I didn’t want to be won over. You’ll win him over, too. But leave out the cuffs. Those are for me, right along with the emerald dress, I’m not going to get to see this weekend after all. Just another reason to bring you back here next weekend.”

“Next weekend?”

“You have a problem with that?” he challenges.

“No,” I say. “I don’t think I do. Are you going to be an asshole and change my mind between now and then?”

“Let’s make a bet. If it’s no more than three times, I get to cuff you next weekend.”

“And if it’s more than three times, I just don’t come with you next weekend?” I challenge.

“In which case, I’ll have to cuff you to my bed and make you come so many times that you can’t help but forgive me.”

Heat pools low in my belly at the many ways he could do just that, but I stay focused on the conversation at hand. “You’re obsessed with cuffing me and I think I know why.”

“Do you want to tell me why?” he asks, leaning closer, his hand sliding up my leg under the tablecloth.

I catch his hand. “You don’t like me one-upping you. It feels unbalanced.”

“More like I owe you.”

“You want to taunt me like I did you?”

“No, I want to finish you like you didn’t me, but that doesn’t mean be finished you. No, Carrie. I’m not going to ever be finished with you. I told you. It's you who will walk away." He releases my leg and leans back.

We’re back to planning for me to hate him again and it’s getting to me in a big way. I’m suddenly angry and attacked by emotions I can’t name and don’t want to feel. Not after what he just said. I toss down my napkin and stand up. “I’m going to the bathroom.” I don’t look at him or wait for a reply.

I start walking and enter the restaurant with its beach-style low ceiling, and boat-like structure, a waiter directs me to a hallway behind the wooden bar. I can’t get there quick enough. The tiny walkway, the seclusion of it, is relief that is ironic considering I feel as if I’m suffocating in all that is Reid Maxwell. I pass a turn down another hallway when suddenly, Reid is with me, pulling me into it, pressing me against the wall. His big body crowds mine, legs caging my legs.

“What just happened?” he demands, his hands coming down on the wall next to mine.

“You just had asshole moment number one,” I bite out, all the emotions I can’t name, or won’t name, spewing right from my mouth. “You said we were done with the doom and gloom. And yet, what do you do? You say things like you did just now at the table that infer that it’s inevitable that I hate you. I can’t keep doing whatever this is if that’s where you are driving us.”

“That’s not—”

“I can’t feel whatever it is that I’m feeling when you keep pushing us there.”

His fingers tangle in my hair. “What do you feel, Carrie?”

“Too much, you’re too much, if we’re spiraling into hate. Just fuck me and let me go.”

“No,” he says. “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s not too much. It’s not enough. No more of those statements. They’re irrelevant because if you try and walk away, I will just cuff you to the bed like I said, and make you orgasm until you don’t want to leave.”

“I already don’t want to leave, and with you that scares me, Reid.”

“The idea that might change is what scares me, Carrie.”

“Why? Why would I hate you?”

“I told you that I’d let you figure that out on your own, remember?”

“Then let me. Stop pushing me into the quicksand.”

“If you’re in quicksand, baby, I’m right there with you so let’s make a deal. No more fear. We’re in this all the way, good and bad. Say it.”

“I don’t have a choice but to agree. I’m in. You already made that happen.”

“No running,” he adds, and then he’s kissing me, a deep stroke of the tongue that I feel everywhere. It drugs me into momentary submission and then there are voices, headed in our direction. Reid pulls his mouth from mine, his thumb stroking the dampness from my bottom lip, before he says, “Let’s go pay the bill and get out of here.” He takes my hand and we start walking, but his words are in my head: No running.

He really does think that I’m going to run and suddenly I’m not angry at him anymore. I realize at that moment, with his hand firmly around mine, that he’s allowed himself to be vulnerable with me when Reid Maxwell, the king of assholes, is vulnerable to no one, proven by him admitting fear. He’s invited me inside the walls of his private life, to meet his family even.

He’s torn down walls and trusted me not to hate him, even when he believes he deserves the hate. That’s his walls coming down, and that means I have to meet him halfway, and let mine down, too, but some part of me knows he’s going to hurt me.

But it’s too late to turn back.