Текст книги "Reckless"
Автор книги: Nicole Edwards
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
Reckless
Also by Nicole Edwards
The Alluring Indulgence Series
Kaleb
Zane
Travis
Holidays with the Walker Brothers
Ethan
Braydon
Sawyer
Brendon
The Club Destiny Series
Conviction
Temptation
Addicted
Seduction
Infatuation
Captivated
Devotion
Perception
Entrusted
Adored
The Dead Heat Ranch Series
Boots Optional
Betting on Grace
Overnight Love
The Devil’s Bend Series
Chasing Dreams
Vanishing Dreams
The Devil’s Playground Series
Without Regret
The Pier 70 Series
Reckless
The Sniper 1 Security Series
Wait for Morning
Never Say Never
The Southern Boy Mafia Series
Beautifully Brutal
Beautifully Loyal
Standalone Novels
A Million Tiny Pieces
Writing as Timberlyn Scott
Unhinged
Unraveling
Chaos
Reckless
Pier 70
Book 1
Nicole Edwards
Nicole Edwards Limited
PO Box 806
Hutto, Texas 78634
www.NicoleEdwardsLimited.com
www.slipublishing.com
Copyright © Nicole Edwards, 2015
All rights reserved.
This is a self-published title.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Reckless– A Pier 70 Novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Image: © Igor Chaikovskiy | 123rf.com (front cover image – 7338452); © Jasminko Ibrakovic | 123rf.com (back cover image – 36000609)
Ebook Image: © magenta10 | 123rf.com (formatting image – 14284060)
Cover Design: © Nicole Edwards Limited
Editing: Blue Otter Editing www.BlueOtterEditing.com
ISBN (ebook): 978-1-939786-54-8
ISBN (print): 978-1-939786-53-1
Gay Romance
M/M interactions
Mature Audience
Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
Prologue
Acknowledgments
One
“Damn it, Dare! Is it too fucking difficult to do what we ask?”
Cam Strickland choked out a laugh when he walked into the dark office of Pier 70 Marina shortly after six in the morning to find Roan grumbling to himself. Cam didn’t even need to look around because he already knew no one else was there.
Just Roan. And his pissy attitude. Happy Friday, y’all!
Smiling, Cam spared Roan a look. “Good mornin’ to you, too, sunshine. Talkin’ to yourself again?”
As though sensing he was overlooking her, Lulu—the two-year-old golden retriever who lived at the marina—came from behind the counter, tail wagging. “Mornin’ to you, too, Lu.” Cam dropped to his haunches to pet her while watching Roan.
Roan Gregory, Cam’s longtime friend and business partner, cast a sideways glance at Cam, one dark eyebrow cocking beneath the dark, shaggy bangs that covered his forehead before Roan returned his attention to the printer/copier (or office genius as Dare liked to refer to it) in front of him.
Looked like it was definitely going to be one of those days.
Cam gave Lulu one last pat, then got to his feet. Flipping on the lights and turning the sign around to show they were open, Cam watched while Roan took out his frustration on the fancy new machine that one of their other partners, Dare Davis—the man Roan was clearly irritated with—had insisted on purchasing last month.
“Dare’s not even here, so why’re you yellin’?”
“He should be here,” Roan muttered as he slammed the lid down and stabbed at one of the buttons repeatedly.
Well, the fancy machine had been new. At least until Roan had gotten hold of it.
Lulu barked once, clearly not happy with the loud noise. He felt her pain.
Cam didn’t try to hide his amusement with the situation, even pretended not to notice when Roan glowered at him, evidently not as entertained as Cam.
“So is it Dare or the printer you have a problem with?” Cam offered a smile, flashing all his teeth.
Roan faked a laugh, then rolled his eyes, eyebrows shooting downward. Too soon for jokes apparently. Still, Cam couldn’t help but laugh. He had to find entertainment somewhere. Might as well be here.
“Stupid printer,” Roan grumbled.
Cam was beginning to feel bad for that stupid printer, taking the brunt of Roan’s frustration and all.
Dare—always helpful, or so he claimed—had come up with the crazy suggestion for the ridiculously expensive machine after a huge falling-out with Roan on why they couldn’t just get rid of paper altogether.
“Who even uses paper anymore?” Dare had asked, dead serious.
Roan’s reply … well… “We do, dumb ass.”
Dare had even tossed out one of his statistics during his argument. Admittedly, Cam had been sort of impressed.
“Seriously, bro,” Dare had argued, “I saw a report. Somethin’ like eighty-four percent of businesses prefer Apple products. We don’t need paper and shit. Just get a coupla iPads like the rest of the technologically advanced civilization. Make people sign with their fingers… Easy peasy.”
Convincing Roan wasn’t easy peasy.
Dare wanted to save trees; Roan wanted simplicity. Cam, well, he didn’t give a fuck one way or the other.
Still, they’d ended up with the printer. Knowing Dare, he’d probably hoped Roan wouldn’t have wanted to spend that much money, but Roan had shown him.
Roan was nothing if not stubborn.
As was Dare.
When Roan stabbed the button again, Cam stopped walking, coming to a halt on the customer side of the long counter that split the marina office. While his flip-flops froze on the rough slate floor, his full attention was focused on his friend.
Just ask what his problem is.
Don’t have a death wish, Cam told the crazy voice in his head. Seriously. Cam saw what Roan was doing to that poor, unsuspecting printer.
It wasn’t like Roan to get quite so pissy first thing in the morning. By the end of the day, sure, Roan was known to be a little frazzled from time to time. Not this early, though.
Unlike the rest of them, Roan was a morning person. Usually. Cam, on the other hand, didn’t understand that concept whatsoever. Bright and chipper didn’t make an appearance this early in the day for Cam. Blurry-eyed, yes. Cheerful, no. Then again, no one else at the marina—other than possibly Dare—was a bowl of fucking sunshine, either, until they’d had a little caffeine in whatever form they opted to take it. Cam’s preference was coffee, and he could see the fresh pot sitting right there on the counter waiting for him.
Just. Out. Of. Reach.
With a heavy sigh, he accepted his fate. He had no choice but to confront his friend.
“What’d he do now?” Cam peered over at Roan, then back to the black liquid gold now calling his name. He was eager to answer, only he was mentally weighing the risks of getting too close to Roan at the moment.
Roan snorted. “We’ve got a huge group comin’ in today. A freaking daycare, man. And he was supposed to do one simple thing. Get the waivers signed.” Roan yanked the paper out of the machine. “I can’t find ’em anywhere.”
“I did get ’em signed, you asshole.”
Speak of the devil.
Cam smirked at the sound of Dare’s voice coming from behind him, followed by the annoying ding of the electronic door notification system that, no matter how much they fucked with it, still sounded on a delay.
“If you’d just open your eyes and look,” Dare tacked on.
Dare Davis, the third owner of Pier 70 Marina, and another one of Cam’s closest friends, stepped into the office looking as casual as ever with his white T-shirt that sported the marina logo, knee-length swim shorts, Dallas Cowboys ball cap on backwards, and as usual, was bare-footed. Oh, and carrying a Red Bull. Of course.
“Then where the hell are they?” Roan barked, pinning Dare in place with his heated gaze.
Cam took a step back and watched the exchange, as did Lulu, who appeared a little concerned. Cam patted her head reassuringly.
“Where y’all told me to put ’em,” Dare countered, head cocked forward, as though pointing with his eyebrows. “That stupid rack you hung on the wall, remember?”
“Fine time for you to start listenin’ to what we ask you to do,” Roan groused.
Cam huffed a laugh, trying to cover it with a cough. With these two, he was always entertained.
“If I recall correctly,” Dare said, flashing a mischievous grin at Cam before looking back at Roan, “I tried to get y’all to nix the paper and move to iPads, but no.”
Roan shot a ball-shriveling scowl at Dare.
“No worries,” Dare said, still smirking and holding his hands up in an I surrender gesture. “I’m cool. Just happy to chill in the Stone Age, rubbin’ sticks together to make fire. Later, I’ll take a break and go spear us a buffalo for dinner.”
Rolling his eyes because he knew Dare was just looking to push Roan’s buttons, which wasn’t unusual, Cam made his way to the coffeepot, desperate to get his hands on a cup while Roan was distracted.
“You are such an ass—”
“Who’s handlin’ this party today?” Cam interrupted Roan’s tirade, hoping to change the subject and keep the two of them from going head to head so early in the day.
As entertaining as this ongoing squabble might be, they had shit to do.
Pier 70 Marina was a full-service marina and boat storage that Cam, Roan, and Dare had opened nearly a decade ago with the financial backing from Cam’s father. It’d grown to be one of the most exclusive, highly coveted marinas on Lake Buchanan. To the point that they’d acquired a staff of nearly twenty over the years, most of those people family or friends. Or family friends.
“Holly’s handlin’ the corporate event, and Teague’s gonna run point on the water,” Dare advised, tossing back what was left of his energy drink.
“Is she here yet?” Cam asked, referring to his younger sister, who’d recently taken over the position of party host.
Holly and her husband, Keith, had offered their services to Cam when the marina had been shorthanded a couple of summers back, and they’d stuck around ever since. They’d both adapted quickly to the prestigious party host role and now alternated between handling the off-water activities and taking care of their three kids. Holly was responsible for getting things set up for the large events—usually corporate or family reunion type—that took place in the fifteen-acre park adjacent to the marina, while the rest of them handled the watercraft.
“On her way. She just called before you came down,” Roan said.
“Good. Where’s Teague?” Cam asked.
Teague Carter was the recently added fourth and final partner in the marina. They’d brought him on board to help out with light mechanic work and some of the chores when Teague had still been in high school, and through the years, thanks to his hard work and dedication, they’d opted to give him stock in the place.
“Haven’t seen him yet,” Dare said. “He had a late night. Some party carried on until the early hours, and he didn’t get outta here until around one.”
That wasn’t surprising.
Several years younger than the rest of them, Teague was the life of the party on a good day, always volunteering to go out on the party barges when a client requested. Sometimes Cam admired the kid’s energy level, but Cam chalked it up to Teague still being young. Not that Cam was all that old at thirty-two, but he did have about seven years on Teague.
“What else’s goin’ on today?” Cam glanced back at Dare and Roan over his shoulder.
“You mean besides the heavyweight match between Roan and the printer?” Dare smirked, looking back and forth between Cam and Roan.
Roan shot Dare the finger. “Not a helluva lot,” Roan griped, clearly still in a foul mood.
“So why so pissy?” Dare asked Roan directly.
Roan glowered at Dare but didn’t respond.
Thank God for small miracles. These two … stubborn as mules.
Taking a sip of coffee and letting it burn all the way down, Cam turned around and leaned against the counter, watching the two of them carefully. Roan was frowning, Dare grinning like a fool.
Cam shook his head.
Sometimes, especially during the summer months when they spent so much time entertaining people for extensive periods of time, things started to heat up inside the office. Sometimes hot enough to rival the blistering three-digit temps. However, it was only the first week of June, the season was just now kicking off, so he hoped this wasn’t indicative of what they had to look forward to for the next three months.
But it was that tension that had Cam seeking solitude—or trying to, anyway—in his own office whenever possible. It didn’t help that he lived in one of the two private apartments above the marina office, either. Hiding out was nearly impossible in his line of work. And with Roan now occupying the other apartment, Cam never seemed to find a moment’s peace.
Unfortunately, this morning he’d hit the snooze button on his alarm a few too many times and hadn’t made it in before the others as he normally did, which meant he hadn’t been able to sneak away.
Yet.
But he fully intended to rectify that now.
Sparing them both one more look, Cam pushed off the counter and glanced out at the parking lot.
Yep. Time to jet.
“You’ve got incoming,” Cam noted as he took his coffee cup and headed down the narrow hallway toward his office, smiling as Roan greeted the customer with a chipper note in his deep voice that hadn’t been there a minute ago.
Two
Gannon Burgess had woken up that morning expecting a drama-free day. It was Friday, after all. A day most people traipsed into work still half-asleep—possibly still drunk—from the Thursday happy hour slash kickoff to the weekend party they’d indulged in the night before. Once they’d downed the requisite amount of coffee, they took care of the absolute necessities, then headed out as early as they could to pick up where they’d left off in kicking off the weekend.
Drama-free. Just the way Gannon preferred it.
Not today, apparently.
Granted, being that he worked seven days a week, no matter what, Gannon woke up with high hopes for smooth sailing every morning, and generally he didn’t meet too many surprises along the way.
Did it always go the way he wanted? No, actually.
Since he owned and managed a multimillion-dollar entertainment software development company, there were some standard road bumps along with the occasional hiccup that arose—software glitches, viruses, employee issues, technical problems. Yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah.
Those he anticipated, sometimes even predicted.
But today, it looked as though his crystal ball was a little cloudy because he hadn’t seen this coming at all.
“What do you say? You up for it?”
As he stared back at his assistant/friend, trying to process what she was telling him—though he had to give her props, she had phrased it as a question, but he knew her better than that—Gannon knew this was not going to be fun.
In fact, he’d take a server crash over what Milly was suggesting any day.
“Seriously, Gannon.” Milly’s perfectly tweezed blonde eyebrows arched downward as she narrowed her baby blues at him. “It’ll be good for us.”
Us.
It never fared well for him when Milly used that one little word in a sentence.
Casually leaning back in her chair, long legs crossed at the knee, Milly Holcomb, the woman who kept Gannon and the rest of the Austin office organized and on track, looked more like a supermodel than a tenured administrative assistant for the president and CEO of Burgess Entertainment. Him.
But Milly was a different breed, Gannon would have to give her that. Not only was she his assistant, she was also his longtime friend, the keeper of most of his secrets, the woman who forced him to spill his guts when he had no desire to do so. So, yeah, he probably made a few exceptions for her, looked the other way most of the time. It was easier that way.
She was smart, driven, quick-thinking, even professional when the situation required her to be. Hell, he could list a dozen more things about her that he admired, because Milly had a lot of appealing qualities.
But subtlety wasn’t one of them.
Perfect example … right now, her long, golden-blonde hair was haphazardly heaped on the top of her head like she’d just rolled out of bed—a style that had probably taken her an hour—held in place by some fancy clip. Her smooth, alabaster skin made her look closer to twenty-one than thirty-one. The knee-length black skirt showed off her legs, and the white, button-down blouse that was unbuttoned a little more than was probably appropriate for an office setting offered a glimpse of her generous cleavage, which was likely one of the reasons the game designers were always hovering around her.
And he knew for a fact that she enjoyed the hell out of giving the guys in the office something nice to look at. Hell, she’d told him so.
Leaning back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, Gannon placed his hands behind his head, elbows wide as he regarded her. “A boat?” he asked skeptically, still hoping he’d heard her wrong.
“Yes.” The single word rang with an emphatic exhale, as though she was frustrated because he had a problem understanding. “A couple of hours out on the lake. Sunshine, conversation. It’s just what the team needs.”
“The team?”
Milly frowned. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
She huffed. “Responding to me with two word questions. It’s really irritating.”
Smiling at how easily he could get her flustered, Gannon peered past Milly and through the wall of glass that separated his office from the rest of the floor. The place looked the same as it did on any Friday morning. A few people were wandering around, a couple of guys talking, several sitting in front of their monitors working diligently.
“They look happy to me,” he said, nodding toward one of the designers who had snuck over to the open box of donuts to steal another one, flushing to the roots of his jet-black hair when he looked over to see Gannon watching him.
Gannon offered a small wave and a smile. With a mouthful, the guy waved back, then scurried back to his desk.
“You don’t talk to them enough,” Milly said firmly.
“You want me to go out there and chat?” Gannon frowned, his glasses sliding down his nose. Pushing them back up, he cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.
“No, I don’t. I want you to get them out of the office for a little while.”
“On a boat?” he repeated.
“Gannon.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at the admonishing tone she used with him. She should’ve been used to it by now; after all, she’d worked for him for nearly a decade, and shortly after that, she’d insinuated herself smack in the middle of his life, becoming his closest friend. She knew him better than most people, but there was still a lot she didn’t know about him. And Gannon preferred it that way. The less people knew, the better off he was.
And one of the things she didn’t know about him was that he hated water. Perhaps that wasn’t a strong enough adjective. Loathed, abhorred, detested. Or … all of those to the power of infinity.
Yes, that worked.
Unless it was in a concrete bowl in someone’s backyard or in his own bathtub, Gannon steered clear of it. A shower was his idea of a water sport, and he was content with that. The notion of spending an afternoon floating on the stuff… Let’s just say he’d rather have someone pluck his toenails off with pliers, then feed them to him. The toenails. Or the pliers. Either way.
Clearly oblivious to Gannon’s internal musings, Milly continued, “I already know the perfect place. It’s about an hour away.”
“An hour? Why not one of the lakes right here in Austin?” Not that he thought it was a good idea.
“Because they’re too low right now.”
He’d have to take her word on that.
“So why this particular place?” he questioned, not willing to give in just yet.
“I don’t know,” Milly huffed. “It looks nice.”
“Looks nice?”
Milly pursed her lips. “Yes. On their website. And if you get your butt out of your chair, we can go right now. Get things set up.”
Dropping his chair back down, Gannon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded her once more. “Go now? What are you talking about? Why not just call them?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m asking for.” The tops of Milly’s ears turned the same color red as her lipstick, and he realized she was embarrassed. “I was hoping we could go check it out, make sure it’s something we want to do.”
Gannon could’ve told her that we definitely didn’t want to do any of it. Her, maybe. Him, nope.
Getting up, Gannon walked around behind his desk, getting ready to sit down at his computer so he could get some work done.
“No, don’t sit down,” she blurted, sitting up straight. “Come on. It’ll be fun. And who knows, maybe there’ll be a couple of hot guys there we can flirt with.”
Gannon gave her his best get real look. “I’m not in the market for a guy right now. Hot or otherwise.”
“Sure you are,” she countered in that tone that said she knew him better than he knew himself. “And just think, it’s easier for you to meet guys when I’m with you.”
Gannon grimaced. “How’s that?”
“Well, if they aren’t checking me out, then we know they’re gay.”
Smiling, he rolled his eyes.
That was another thing about Milly, she certainly wasn’t modest.
“Now get your shit together,” Milly ordered as she stood. “We’re wastin’ time.”
And there was the hard-headed, take-no-shit assistant he knew and loved. She was good at a lot of things, but ordering him around… That was something Milly had mastered years ago.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Gannon relented. He wasn’t going to be able to convince her this was a bad idea, no matter how much he wanted to. Truth was, Milly did have the team’s best interests in mind when she made her suggestions. If she thought they’d enjoy a day out on the boat, maybe they would.
He wouldn’t.
But even he knew it wasn’t about him.
Half an hour later, after Milly had tied up a few loose ends and allotted him fifteen minutes to check his email, Gannon was behind the wheel of his car, Milly riding shotgun.
“This is exciting,” she said, bouncing in her seat like a five-year-old on the way to the toy store.
“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Exciting.”
“Oh, cool it.” Milly smacked his arm playfully. “Seriously. I think the guys’ll love going out on a boat. It’s definitely better than sitting in that stale office all day.”
“No,” Gannon clarified, glancing over at her from behind his glasses, “I think you’ll love going out on a boat. I think they’d prefer to be given the day off so they can go home and play World of Warcraft.”
“Shush!” Her eyes widened as though he’d taken the Lord’s name in vain. “How dare you speak of the enemy in my presence?”
Gannon laughed. She was incredibly loyal to Burgess Entertainment, insisting that any other gaming company paled in comparison.
“Fine,” he conceded. “They’d rather be home playing Rise of Vengeance.”
“Whatever,” she interrupted. “They shouldn’t be at home, period. They need to get out, experience life from the other side of those video game controllers.”
No matter what she said, Gannon knew he was right. The people he employed were hard-core gamers. When not at work, they spent their time behind a keyboard, immersed in the video game underworld. Their lives were online, not out in a boat. But he knew he could never convince Milly of that. She insisted that no one could be that humdrum.
They could. And they were.
Gannon knew firsthand. He was one of them.
However, she refused to believe him. He’d had more than one heated discussion with Milly, usually over dinner and a bottle of wine, about how someone could get addicted to games. She didn’t see it, and Gannon couldn’t explain it, so he didn’t bother to try.
“We should make sure they have sunscreen,” Milly mumbled, staring out the window. “And maybe hats.” Her head swiveled around, attention on him. “You, too. I think you need a hat.”
Gannon frowned. “I’m not wearing a hat.”
“What if your head gets sunburned?”
Gannon chuckled. “I go out in the sun all the time.”
“Walking to your car from the office doesn’t count,” she countered.
Eager to get off the subject, Gannon asked, “Don’t you have a date this weekend?”
Milly sighed, leaning back in her seat as though she’d been defeated. “Yeah. With Gary.”
Was it him, or did she sound a little disappointed? “What’s wrong with Gary?”
“Nothing,” she told him, sighing dramatically. “You need to turn up here.”
Gannon put on his blinker to exit the highway. “If nothing’s wrong with him, what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is he boring?”
“No. He’s a musician. Nothing boring about that.”
If she said so. “Is he ugly?”
“God no. He’s freaking hot.”
“Then what is it?”
“We have nothing in common,” she answered. “He’s a starving artist who craves the rock star lifestyle. While I’m … not.” Milly offered him a grin. “And while his stories are interesting, I don’t really care for them.”
“Then why’re you going out with him again?” Gannon cast a sideways glance her way.
“Because I can’t come up with a good enough excuse not to.”
“Well, then, by all means, suffer through it.”
Milly smacked his arm again. “Shut it. I’ll figure something out. What about you? You have any plans to date in the near future?”
Gannon shook his head. The last date he’d had was… Shit. Probably a year ago? Two years ago?
Holy crap. Apparently time flies when you’re … not dating.
Damn, now that he thought about it, that did seem like a long time. Not that he’d even given it a second thought. At least not when Milly wasn’t bringing it up. Dating wasn’t the most important thing in his life. Burgess Entertainment took up most of his time and could technically qualify as his significant other.
“One of these days,” Milly began, “you’re gonna meet a guy who’s gonna knock you right on that cute ass of yours.”
Gannon frowned over at her.
“What? Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean I can’t admire your cute buns.”
“My buns are not cute,” he blurted.
“Oh, they definitely are and so is—”
“Which direction do I go?” Gannon interrupted, desperate to cut her off. He’d heard this before, and as good as Milly was for his ego, he definitely didn’t want to hear it again.
“Take a right,” she told him, a wide grin splitting her face. “It’s a few miles down this road.”
Gannon was thankful they were close. The conversation had taken a weird turn, and he was more interested in getting this out of the way so he could get back to the office and do what he did best.
Work.
“I think you’ll like this place,” Milly commented. “And just wait till you see the guys who work here.”
Gannon’s head snapped in her direction. “What? What guys? You didn’t mention anything about guys.”
That smile.
Ah, crap. “Dammit, Milly.”
Gannon knew that smile.
Gannon feared that smile.
