I used to hate leg day.” Tag blew out a breath and pushed his feet against the machine one final time before dropping the weights with a clang. He leaned forward and snatched his towel, mopping his neck. “Now I’m grateful to have legs to bitch about.”
“Eli,” Lucas grunted, finishing a sit-up before lying flat on his back on the mat. The gym was empty today. Typical for spring. Most of the people who’d made New Year’s resolutions to get into shape had given up, leaving the diehards to their workouts.
“Yeah.”
“How’s he doing?” Lucas did one final sit-up and wrapped his arms around his knees.
“He’s Eli.” Tag lifted an eyebrow. “He’s ‘fine.’”
Last night Reese and Tag had showed up at Eli’s warehouse apartment to find Eli at the end of a session with his physical therapist. They’d hired a male therapist, knowing that Eli’s particularly abrasive attitude might be tempered by a guy he could relate to. The therapist they’d found was former military, tough, and didn’t take any shit. Eli seemed to be conforming and had done his leg exercises with minimal swearing.
“I’m not used to seeing him without a leg yet.”
Tag might never get used to it, and he had no idea how the hell Eli felt about it either. His brother hadn’t exactly opened up.
“He has these bouts of pain. Last night they were so close together…” Eli had a big one during dinner—delivered submarine sandwiches. Eli had cried out and slumped over in his chair. Tag had vacillated between unhinged anger that this had happened to one of the best people he knew and the now familiar feeling of helplessness that he couldn’t do a damn thing to help Eli through it. After Eli had caught his breath, he’d left his veggie sub uneaten and retreated to his bedroom.
“He’s tough as nails, Tag. Always has been,” Lucas said gently, pulling Tag from his thoughts. “He’s going to make it through this and come out better for it.”
God, he hoped so.
“Keep getting in his face. He needs you, even if he doesn’t show it.”
“I know.” Tag reached for his water bottle. No way was he going to bail on his brother. Eli was stuck with him. “What are you grinning like a jackass about?”
“Rachel,” Lucas said, pushing himself to standing and snagging his own water bottle in the process.
Tag stood, too, and Lucas kept smiling, even when he took a drink of his water.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.” Seriously. Lucas looked like the freaking Joker.
“What are you talking about?” Tag tossed his towel over his shoulder and angled for the exit. He knew exactly what Lucas was talking about, and frankly, he didn’t want to talk about it.
“You and Rachel.” Lucas followed him out of Crane Tower’s gym and into the elevator. Tag punched the button for his penthouse.
“You joining me in the shower or something?” he grumbled as they rode up.
“I’m going to use one of your showers, and then I will require a beer and an explanation.”
“For?” Tag stepped out on his floor and opened his front door.
“Come on. You’re not going to admit it?”
“Lucas. What?” Tag elevated his arms, half pissed, half terrified at what his best friend was about to say. Because he knew. God help him, Tag knew exactly what Lucas was about to say. Then with an even bigger shit-eating grin, Lucas stabbed the air and told him.
“You’re spun.”
“Am not.” Tag tossed a hand and walked to his bedroom. “Towels in the hall.” But Lucas wasn’t shaken.
“Like a Tilt-A-Whirl, Taggart Crane. You are fucking spun.”
Tag stopped in the doorway and regarded the ceiling, looking for what, he wasn’t sure. Strength? Answers? A clue Lucas was wrong?
Spun was a term they’d used when one by one their friends began falling victims to women, losing their single status and voluntarily handing over their man cards. Lucas was among the last, save for Tag, who’d kept the dream alive.
“Shit, I thought I was going to be sick the night when we all went to the concert,” Luc said. “And not because you and Rachel were kissy-facing all night.”
“Give me a break.” Tag so did not want to have this convo with his best bud. Not now. Not ever.
“I live vicariously through you.” Luc put a palm to his chest. “Through your conquests and exploits. I love my wife, but watching a player that good at the game turn in his balls…” He gave his head a reverent shake. “You are a master. Or used to be, anyway.”
“Lucas, for Christ’s sake.”
“You know when to get out, how to keep the honeys happy. I swear the only thing you’ve ever been scared of in your life is one of them sticking around.”
Tag took a deep breath and wondered if he marched over and punched Lucas in the face if he’d shut up or hit him back.
“You act different with her. And it’s because you’re spun,” Lucas continued. “I think you know it, and I think you want Rachel to know it. Have you told her yet? Have you tested out the three-word bomb in the bathroom mirror?”
“I’m not spun. I’m not scared,” Tag bellowed. “And if you’d like to find your own balls and have a manly discussion when I’m out of the shower, I’ll offer you a beer. You keep going with this chick shit, you can leave.”
Without waiting for Lucas’s response, Tag shut his bedroom door, but through the wood, he heard his so-called friend comment, “Never thought I’d see the day.”
Tag kicked off his sneakers and went to the bathroom sink, bracing his hands on the edges. He regarded his reflection, a slightly sweaty guy who needed a shower and a slap in the face.
Wake up, man.
He hadn’t practiced the three-word bomb in the mirror like Lucas had suggested, and he wouldn’t do it now. But Tag was beginning to think he’d lied to his best friend—that he’d been lying to himself.
Because right now the Tag in the mirror looked both scared and spun.
* * *
Since Rachel had the day off work, her plan was to start packing up her room at the apartment before her date with Tag that night.
Today’s apartment hunt hadn’t fared much better than her recent job hunt. She’d spent the afternoon looking at rinky-dink living spaces that, after deposit and first month’s rent, she could only afford for two more months…maybe.
She’d have thought the Hawaii gig she’d helped Tag with would shine on her resume, but so far none of the companies where she’d applied had been impressed by her advising on a major redesign. Though, there was one place that would be impressed.
Crane Hotels.
She’d had the thought before—briefly. During her online apartment hunt, she’d even looked up Crane Hotels headquarters. Turned out the building, separate from the Crane where the CEO’s offices were located, was hiring.
In marketing.
She’d shut the computer window, determined to find work outside of the Crane realm. Now that she thought about it, though, why couldn’t she apply? It wasn’t as if Tag had carved out a position for her. If she applied blind, and a manager hired her for HQ, Tag wouldn’t find out unless said manager called him as a reference. Unlikely. Tag was in charge of Guest and Restaurant Services, not human resources.
Plus, she was getting desperate.
Her cell buzzed, and Rachel stared at the name on the screen for the length of three rings before pressing the Accept button.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetheart! I hadn’t heard from you in a while so I assumed you’ve been busy with work and watching the big dog for your friend.”
“You’re right about busy, but I’m not dog sitting any longer.” Rachel piled books into a box while she talked, unsure why she’d kept so many. Half were college texts and the other half paperback novels she could easily replace if she ever wanted to reread them. She thought of Tag and his well-worn paperback.
Use is a sign of love.
With a smile, she stacked the paperbacks into the box.
“…And your cousin Sheryl is pregnant. So the wedding should be interesting.”
“Really.”
“I know. Scandal, right?” Her mother sipped, drinking her evening tea no doubt. “But she’s only ten weeks, so it’s not like she’s walking down the aisle with a baby bump.”
Through a laugh, Rachel said, “I’m happy for her.”
“Yes, so am I. Rich is a nice man,” she said of Sheryl’s groom. “How’s work going?”
“Well. It’s going well.” Her heart rattled out an unsteady series of beats. She hadn’t shared the whole truth with her mom. She supposed now was as good a time as any. “I don’t actually have the job you’re referring to,” she finally admitted. “I didn’t want to tell you because then I’d have to tell you how Shaun betrayed me.”
“Rachel. What do you mean?” Her mom’s concern was palpable. “It’s his fault you don’t have a job?”
“It’s my fault I don’t have my marketing job.” She was the one who’d allowed herself to be bullied out of the company, after all. “But I do have a job. Just not one where high heels are standard.” From there, she told her mother everything, from the presentation to Shaun taking all the credit, to the moment when she took the dog sitting job from a male regular at the bar. She debated for a few seconds before sharing the part about Tag knocking on her door.
“Are you and Tag…?”
“We’re seeing each other.” Which was a parent-friendly way to say they were sleeping together. But her mother didn’t need to know the details or that Tag was a billionaire, for God’s sake. Baby steps.
“I helped him out with a bar project recently. In Hawaii.”
“Hawaii!”
“I didn’t want you to worry. Or get the wrong idea,” Rachel was quick to say. Even though the idea her mom had was probably pretty close to the right one. “Anyway, he wanted to pay me for going, but I didn’t let him.”
“Smart girl.”
At that, Rachel’s shoulders pulled back. Her mother had always respected Rachel’s independence. It felt nice to have that acknowledged. “It’s been a few weeks and I haven’t had any luck finding a corporate job, but there is an opening at…uh, the place Tag works.”
“Would he put in a good word for you?”
Rachel nearly laughed, swallowing down the words You mean with his brother the CEO?
“That’s just it. I don’t want him to.” She wanted to do this on her own. Prove she could do it on her own. “Do you think it’d be wrong to apply and not tell him?”
“I think you should apply, and I think you should tell him,” her mother stated without hesitation.
“I don’t want him pulling any strings.”
“Then tell him so.”
Rachel sighed.
“Don’t start off your relationship with a lie, Rach. It won’t end well.”
She appreciated her mom’s advice, but Keri Foster wasn’t all the way in the know. Rachel and Tag had a nontraditional relationship. When it ended, she didn’t want her employer thinking the only way she’d landed the job was on the merits of the man she had been sleeping with. It had been all too easy for her last employer to believe Shaun had done the heavy lifting. Her hard work had been completely overlooked. She refused to let it happen again.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said anyway. “That’s good advice.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
They chatted a while longer before exchanging “I love yous” and hanging up. Rachel dropped her phone on the bed next to her, thought for a second, then pushed out of bed.
She dug her laptop out from under her work clothes and pecked in the Web address for Crane Hotels HQ. Sure enough, the listing for marketing manager was still available.
Biting down on her lip, she decided to go for it. Maybe they’d never call and she wouldn’t have to worry about it. But maybe they would, and she could finally put down a deposit on her own place and rest in the knowledge that she’d taken care of her own problems without the help of her billionaire boyfriend.
* * *
Tag’s fingers danced over her bare shoulder as they faced each other in his bed. They’d gone to dinner at a no-muss, no-fuss pub. She’d chatted about her day spent packing boxes and conveniently avoided the topic of putting in an online application at Crane Hotels. Tag talked about work some, but mostly listened to her.
Afterward, they’d come back to his place and immediately stumbled into the bedroom and out of their clothes. Neither of them was interested in remaining dressed when they were together.
“What are you best at?” His voice was a silken murmur as he ran the pads of his fingers down her shoulder to the bend of her elbow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her mind on the fantastic way they spent the last forty minutes, she had no idea where his question was leading.
“I’ve created a monster. Told you that you were good in bed.” His throat bobbed when he laughed.
She couldn’t keep her smile from emerging. He had created a monster. She’d never had this much sex with Shaun, and she had been with him for almost two years. Tag was like a drug. A long-haired, bearded, wide-bodied, addictive drug.
“I’m asking about your skills outside of my mattress, Dimples. What skills did you highlight on your resume? There has to be a reason you’re not turning up any leads.”
Oh, right. Her resume.
She hadn’t intended on bringing up her job hunt tonight at all. The less she talked about it, the less bad she felt about circumventing him for the position at Crane HQ.
“Are you sure marketing is your bag?” Tag asked, continuing to chase chills down her arm as he ran his fingers down and up again. “Do you like sales? Would you like to work in the service industry?”
“I do work in the service industry,” she said with a smile.
“You know what I mean. Would you like to do something like I do?”
“What is it that you do?” She scrunched her brow and feigned confusion. “Travel, party, write your own dress code…”
A laugh burst from her when he rolled over the top of her, careful to keep from crushing her. Elbows tucked at her sides, she was thoroughly trapped beneath him, which was the best place to be. His weight, his warmth, the veil of hair shrouding them…He was so sexy it hurt.
“Is this conversation too responsible for you?” He ran his lips along the edge of her ear, sending droves of tingles down the length of her body.
“Yes. I’d like to be irresponsible.” She raked her fingers into his hair and he faced her, his head tilted, his eyes twinkling. Something about that twinkle made her heart ka-thud. The way his eyes held hers for the span of several hectic beats, and the way Tag lowered his lips in the softest, sweetest kiss.
“Are you staying with me tonight? I’ll make you breakfast.”
“How can I turn down breakfast?” she asked with a small smile. “You make better coffee than my roommates.”
“My view is better.”
She shook her head and smoothed one hand along Tag’s beard, her eyes flitting down to his tempting mouth. “Right now, mine’s pretty good, too.”
Thunder crashed outside and rain pelted the wide windows.
He rolled over but kept her tucked against him, his arm locked around her waist. “Smart of you to stay.”
She sighed, taking in the heavy dark clouds dominating the black sky, the feel of Tag blanketing her back. Being in his arms made her feel safe and cherished.
A big part of her wanted to lean into that feeling and let herself fall. But after recovering from a brutal tumble that had left her nearly homeless, practically jobless, and had taken a bite out of her confidence, she wasn’t able to let go all the way.
Maybe a little, though, she thought as she closed her eyes and breathed in Tag’s spicy scent.
Just until morning.