Текст книги "The Gideon Affair"

Автор книги: Suzanne Halliday

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Paige rose with the dawn and staggered sleepily onto the wraparound porch that ran along one side of the house. Standing by the railing, she shivered in the chilly early morning air while drinking in the sight of the river behind the house and some mountains in the distance.

Beautiful didn't come close as a descriptive.

Today, Miriam and she were going into Casper for a shopping trip while dad and son were meeting with the Justice of the Peace to take care of some paperwork. Guess she was getting married in a couple of days.

Restless, she had a hard time getting to sleep last night, and now she was exhausted and wide-awake. The intense coupling they’d indulged in during their trip to the camper hadn’t been enough to wear her out. He’d done most of the work that time, taking her hard and fierce while he bent her over the small eating table. She was lucky not to have a concussion from the power of his thrusts. She’d nearly smacked her head several times.

Ahh. She couldn’t wait for them to be together all the time. The weeks they’d played house had been some of the happiest she’d ever known. Pacing the porch rather aimlessly, she’d walked along the railing once or twice before it dawned on her that there were three separate doors opening onto the wide second-floor deck.

Wait a minute. If that far door was hers, she’d bet the middle door was Marsh’s assigned sleeping quarters. That meant that door number three belonged to … Edward.

She didn’t remember walking; she might have flown for all she knew, making haste to the door and quietly trying the knob. Unlocked.

Pushing it open, she peeked first, saw Edward sprawled across a bed, and made a fast beeline for him. She quickly stripped, dropping her nightie on the floor, and then slid silently under the covers.

Seized by a lusty fever, she let nature have its way as impulses that felt primitive and without limits took her over. His scent filled her senses. With her mouth on his torso, she kissed his skin, licking with the flat of her tongue, taking pleasure in his taste. When he stirred and murmured softly, she didn’t stop.

Years of silently loving him coalesced inside Paige. This was what was real. What was right. They’d done it in reverse, filling the empty years with strong bonds of friendship. Having fate kick them in the ass with a ‘hurry up’ had come just in time.

Edward was the god’s honest, real deal. This promise they were making to each other, well … for a man like him, it was everything. As much as she loved him and all his man-quirks, he returned those feelings and boldly added something else. The man she was about to marry for all his sexiest man, Alpha, military vet macho bullshit was not embarrassed to admit that he needed her. Had been quite eloquent about seeing to it that she fully understood what that meant.

It wasn’t the sex, which was spectacular. He needed her embedded in his life. She was his future, and without her, he’d have none. It was all her.

What the heck did you say to such a declaration?

She’d made her way over his entire chest, pushing the covers away to uncover more flesh before aiming south. The blood was rushing through her body on a mad dash to fire up her pleasure centers as she caressed his sides, and her mouth sampled the hard, taut area around his waist. He was especially sensitive there.

He shifted. His body relaxed flat against the mattress, arms out, one leg cocked to the side. Paige drew back to look. Unf. He was simply the most beautiful man alive. They were good together. And he was hers.

Scanning him with avid interest, she enjoyed the sheer masculinity his big body put off. Then her eyes fell on the sexy ink that began on his hip. For so long this tattoo had freaked her out. It felt like a symbol of a disconnect between them. Then when the video happened—as a symbol, it represented something she thought would never be hers. A naked, aroused Edward.

The fact was she’d come to hate the damn tattoo. But now, everything’s changed and what freaked her out for so long was going to end up being part of what rescued their out-of-control nightmare from getting worse. In some twisted way, the bro moment with him and some buddies, wasted off their asses and trying to out-macho each other in a tattoo parlor, was the best fuck you of all time.

Paying homage to the sexy ink trail, she traced each line, swirl, and curve with her tongue until she was face-to-face with a ferociously aroused shaft that twitched with a plea for attention.

Very nice but there was the little matter of the ink trail. She wasn’t quite finished. Pushing his thigh higher revealed the seam between his leg and torso where the wicked tattoo shot further south and started to curve under his balls. Tender territory she made short work of tonguing.

His hand went to the thickened shaft on his stomach, covering it with his big fingers and pulling it up and out of her way. Come on, seriously. Could this get any hotter?

After devoting some time and attention on the twin spheres that she noted were way more sensitive and groan inducing than she ever imagined, it was well past time to take other matters into her own hands. Pushing his hand aside, Paige experienced a drenching rush of heat as a wicked pulse of fiery arousal scorched her center when her fingers wrapped around him.

His quiet groan pushed her on.

In the muted light of a new day’s dawn, she let the sight of his naked beauty and what her hands were doing to his manhood mark her soul. Exquisite emotion filled her up. He meant more to her than she could ever express. Friend. Lover. Mate. Being together at last was so right that the awareness blinded her.

And so, with her beautiful man’s hand tangled in her hair and the other clutching the bed sheets, she reduced him to a quivering mess. Eventually, she broke him down, and he bucked silently, once, twice, three times. A long, drawn-out growl quietly broke free as he released in her throat.

Maybe this separate rooms thing wasn’t such a shitty idea after all.

Edward barely bit off a yawn as he cooled his heels in a diner that had a sign in the window that said, Eat, Then Get Hell Out. He was waiting for his dad who was down the street schmoozing with a town official, handling whatever official paperwork needed to happen for Paige and him to get married.

It had been an exhausting day so far. They’d been on the move, getting shit done, as his father irreverently put it, since the wedding was happening on what could only be described as the fast track. While the women were off doing bridal crap, his dad and he were wrestling all the practical details to the ground.

Of course, some of his exhaustion could be explained away by the dawn patrol goddess who crept into his bed and seduced him out of sleep and to within an inch of his sanity. That girl had a wicked mouth and just the right amount of gag reflex.

Oh, he’d gotten his too when he shooed her back to her guest room. She’d gone reluctantly, pouting the whole way after refusing to put her nightgown back on. Nope, if he were going to dismiss her from his bed, she would make her displeasure known by stomping naked across the porch. It had been really funny.

But the laughter had stopped when he’d silently pointed at the bed—staying under his parents’ radar meant they hadn’t talked, using gestures and head movements instead.

Motioning for her to get on her back and spread her legs, he’d delivered a delicious payback that had ended with his hand covering her mouth to muffle her cries as he licked her to a violent orgasm.

There was no going back to sleep after that.

He’d taken the opportunity while waiting for his dad to FaceTime Mickey for an update. In every way that mattered, his clever fiancée had saved the day with her brilliance. She’d been totally right and had given them the kill switch of all time. According to M, panic over what the FBI was finding out fueled a desperate attempt to deflect attention to Gideon. It was unclear who was the mastermind, but it didn’t matter.

A lot had happened in a short time after Mickey and Edward’s lawyer paid a second visit to Perry Waterman. Almost overnight, Joann hightailed it to the Mediterranean for yacht season. Many rich men with fat checkbooks were eager to pay for whatever brand of fuckery she was dishing out. Smart, although a sadly desperate move on her part. By removing herself from the L.A. scene, she wouldn’t have to deal with Alan’s mess in public.

Markus was going down. There was no way to save him. The dumb fucker let his fingers right click and save a few too many Internet files with questionable content. Well, at least Joann had readied his butthole with her strap-on talents. It would make being some prison dog’s bitch easier to take.

At the secret meeting, Perry got put on blast and had his ass threatened with Mickey’s impressively shady Russian thugs. Basically, he got told to make the tape disappear. If even so much as a whisper of the provably false accusation that it was Gideon fucking the underage girl got out, Perry Waterman could kiss his fortune, and probably a limb, good-bye. They weren’t going to fuck around with this shit anymore.

Moira was all over Phae’s messy part of the sex tape angle. The young woman took everyone by surprise when she issued a statement claiming ownership of the tape. Yes, she’d been underage at the time, but she was with her boyfriend doing what all teenagers did. Why hadn’t she let Gideon off the hook sooner? She got the best line of all and shut down all the doubters by stating that in the Cincinnati suburbs, nobody gave a shit about the narcissistic bullshit happening in Hollywood. She wasn’t into Internet porn and though she’d heard about the infamous Gideon Shaw sex tape, she wasn’t ever going to go looking for it. The only reason she came forward now was to take responsibility and put an end to the gossip. It would be a one-week story, and then the press would move on.

He couldn’t wait to share all this with Paige. They were passed the whole Edward-Gideon divide. Having time to focus on them had helped. It wasn’t one or the other. This was their life—the one they built together. Being Gideon Shaw was his job, but he wasn’t what he did.

The only thing bothering him at the moment was a bit of anxiety about Paige’s parents because they didn’t like him. Not that anything had ever been said. He found a middle ground with her dad, man stuff mostly, but her mom, she was a problem.

It wasn’t so much that Rose disliked him personally. Oh, there was probably a little of that going on, but he’d been giving this some serious thought lately and had come to an uncomfortable conclusion. With her fancy degree, Rose probably felt her daughter should be upper management at the Four Seasons by now or running a diplomat’s embassy in some foreign country. It was likely Mrs. Turner disliked him because being some Hollywood actor’s assistant wasn’t what her mom had expected for Paige. He got it.

The revelation had gotten him thinking about a lot of things and prompted a decision he needed to share with his almost wife. Now that he saw things in a different, clearer light—he didn’t give a rat’s ass about Perry Waterman’s promise to give him a boost into the director’s club.

Fuck that. He’d either get there on his own … or not. He wasn’t about handouts and look-the-other-way incentives for getting ahead. Not only that, but the twelve-year plan was also quickly backspacing to the decade mark, and that was being generous. Yeah, he liked making movies, but at some point … nah.

The cowbells hanging on the diner’s door sent a clash of sounds into the air when a group of men came bustling in. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw his dad with that familiar grin moving toward him as two other men walked behind, cackling with laughter.

They all gathered around the booth where he’d set up camp, hollered to the waitress to bring some coffee, then slapped his father on the back and eyed Edward with mocking interest.

“So, this is what a big Holl-E-Wood movie star looks like in the flesh. Seems like you could use a barber, young man,” said a barrel-chested man with a handlebar mustache who probably cracked ‘em up at the senior activity center with his patented cowpoke drawl.

His dad laughed and quirked a half-grin while nodding at the guy. “Son, this is Jerry Dowd. He likes to imagine he’s the mayor so don’t say anything too smart ‘cause you know how dumb politicians are.”

Oh, my god. Classic Dad. The guy could make a friend in any situation. Edward was very glad to see how well he got on with everyone here in Wyoming. Moving to the wonderland of America had been a great decision.

If they hadn’t crowded him in, he would have stood to shake hands. Reaching out, he took the big paw Jerry proffered and let the man crush his hand in an unforgettable handshake.

“Whoa, sir,” Edward hooted good-naturedly. “Cut me a break, okay? Might need that hand for a close-up.” He shook out his fingers and wagged his wrist for emphasis.

A much smaller gentleman, short in stature but not lacking in gravitas, pushed Jerry out of the way. “All right, you old fuck. He’s not auditioning for a stunt double, so haul your calloused butt aside and let me meet this fella.”

The way his dad’s chest puffed out with pride told him whoever this was, his opinion mattered.

Immediately, another hand was shoved in his face. “What do we call you, boy?” the short man with the booming voice asked. “Your old man says you’ll answer to a dog whistle, but I’m thinking you have a preference. Am I right?”

A dog whistle. Sheesh. He smirked at his dad who was beaming like a searchlight. With a hand on Edward’s shoulder, he made an introduction.

“This is my oldest boy. Edward. Army vet. Iraq tour.”

Edward raised a brow and looked at his dad. A flash went off in his mind. To his family, he was a son and brother first. A war vet came next. That was the shit that mattered. Being a celebrity was pretty far down on the real-world list.

“Couldn’t be prouder,” Dad added at the last.

To Edward, he said, “Son, this is Patrick Mahoney. By day, he’s an environmentalist …”

He tried not to groan. A tree hugger. No wonder Dad was all puffed up.

“But for fun he and his daughter run a fishing excursion company.”

They shook hands and Patrick quipped, “Don’t laugh. Daddy’s little girl is a shark, let me tell you. Runs the whole show without breaking a sweat. My retirement has been more lucrative than forty years watching all our natural resources get frittered away.”

Laughing and joking, they squeezed around him in the booth and teased the waitress who came over carrying a pot of black sludge and a couple of mugs that she plunked on the table.

“You boys having the special,” she drawled, “or are you just here to finish off all the pie?”

Half an hour later, an entire blueberry pie had been consumed along with a gallon of coffee as the men regaled him with wild tales of river fishing, chupacabra sightings, and an endless commentary about kids these days. It was all so down homey comfortable, although absurd, that Edward had to smile. His dad had found his tribe.

“Ah, your mom sent a text,” Dad chortled. “Perfect spelling and punctuation, of course.” The laugh they shared was genuine. His mother never LOL’d or JK’d.

“The gals are on their way home. The perfect dress has been locked down. Says they video chatted with Rose from the dress shop. Everyone’s happy. A mother of the bride outfit decided on.”

All the guys groan-chuckled in that way men have when talking about women’s stuff.

“Oh, and we’re supposed to make wedding rings happen. Even gave me Paige’s ring size,” Dad stressed as he held his phone up like seeing the ring size in a text made it official.

“Randolph’s,” Jerry told them all with a nod. “Get all my wife’s bling from them.”

It occurred to him at that moment that he was in the presence of men who’d all been where he was at one time. Maybe asking for a little wedding advice wasn’t such a bad idea.

“What else?” he asked. “Help me out here, guys. I don’t want to mess things up. There’s more than just a ring, right?”

The raucous laughter erupting from their booth got the attention of all the other diners. “I hope you have fire insurance, son,” his dad jeered. “’Cause your credit care is about to start smoking!”

It was a warm, late summer night. Brilliant stars twinkled overhead. Quiet hovered over everything. Paige wondered if it got any better than this. She was stretched out in a hammock that swayed gently as she rocked her hips side to side, hands behind her head, absently studying the heavens.

Steven and Miriam had left to make the round trip out to the airport to wait for Marshall’s flight. Once he arrived, it would really start to feel like a family event was in the making.

A dress in a big, white garment bag hung in Miriam’s master walk-in that had been the only one she wanted to look at or try on. She knew the minute she saw it that this was her dress. Having her mom’s input through a video chat had been just the oddball, quirky touch that this wedding screamed for.

Having a small, intimate family ceremony was perfect for them. The only people who needed to witness their exchange of vows were going to be there. They’d take care of everyone else after the movie wrapped. Maybe hold a shindig in Santa Barbara.

Carolyn and Patsy would be peeved that they weren’t here. So would Mickey, Shirley, and a whole slew of people who were a part of their daily lives, but this wasn’t about anyone but Edward and her. Five people plus the justice were quite enough thanks.

“Hey, pretty lady.” A firm grip took hold of her ankle and squeezed. “Got room for me?”

Edward maneuvered into the big hammock and held her while they spooned and swayed in the soft night air.

“Happy?”

“Insanely. Your folks are being fantastic.”

“I got our rings today. Wanna see ‘em?”

Oh, my goodness. Her head turned as much it could. “Was that rings as in plural?”

He chuckled softly and kissed her on the nose. “Why so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I guess because guys don’t seem to care about the jewelry.”

“This guy does. I want there to be no doubt who owns my heart.”

“I think we have to postpone our Bora Bora honeymoon. No time to plan.”

“What’s up on the queue after Montana? That Indie film, right? We could go after that.”

“I’ll pencil you in, Mr. Banning. After I check with my boss.”

“You do that. Let me know if he’s a putz and I’ll have a talk with him.”

“Okay, but don’t you mess up my bonus. Mama needs some new shoes.”

They laughed and giggled. Tickled, snuggled, told outrageous tales of nonsense that were straight off-the-cuff hilarious, and plotted their future. When he asked her out of the blue what her dreams were, she’d snickered until he got all kinds of serious.

“No, for real, babe. You didn’t go to L.A. to end up as some douchebag actor’s PA.” He pressed his face into her hair and murmured, “What’s in this busy head of yours where your career dreams are concerned.”

Gosh. Ask an easy question and get a convoluted answer. Should she be surprised that he asked? Because she wasn’t. Once he’d staked his claim, Edward became all about her happiness. If she wanted to raise llamas in Alaska, he’d agree with no problem.

“Mmm, it’s kind of hard to explain, but there’s this whole crazy narrative in my head that makes perfect sense to me. Mostly, I think about creating something that’s never been done before. Unique. With a fresh new take on families who travel and go exploring.”

“I’m listening. What else?”

She wiggled and scooted, almost dumping them from the hammock until they were lying face-to-face.

“Okay, so here it is. My grandma loved to tell this story about how she met my grandfather in a tea room at a bed and breakfast along a bumpy, back road in Georgia. I knew the story was all about them meeting for her, but I loved hearing her describe the stately old Southern mansion that sat at the end of a tree-lined drive. And how every afternoon, except on Sunday, the innkeeper served tea in what Granny called the old-fashioned way.”

“Sounds cool.”

“Right? Well, I think that offering people a more personalized experience than what you’d find at a Best Western, especially if the needs of the whole family were in play—not just the parents—would be tapping into an underserved niche of vacation and day trip travelers.”

“I’m listening.”

She smiled. If she knew him at all, he was doing more than listening; he was taking mental notes.

“I’d like to fix up an old house and make it family friendly. Game room, stuff like that. Create guest suites instead of single rooms that would accommodate mom, dad, and kids. A B&B concept but more modern.”

“And the tea? Would that be a part of it?”

He really was listening.

“Y’know, I like that whole afternoon tea, late day siesta thing. Everyone needs a chance to relax. Like naptime for adults without the eyes closed thing. So yeah, maybe not a traditional tea but some sort of … thing.”

“Sounds awesome. Day trip with the kids? Stop at a B&B for a late day refresher. That way the parents are less likely to want to snap when they get home.”

“Exactly!”

The swaying continued. “You know, we could totally start checking out some properties. Maybe do a test run?”

As drily as she could, Paige pithily replied, “ I think we have enough on our plate right now.”

“Oh shit,” Edward hooted gleefully. “I forgot to tell you. Talked to M. In another week, this whole thing will have run its course. Long story short, you were right.”

"Ah, ha-ha, ha-ha. Told you.”

“By the time we get back to L.A., all this nonsense will have blown over and we can focus on other things. Like coming up with a business plan for your B&B idea and looking for a real house, not a bachelor beach-pad. Preferably something with a shit-ton of bedrooms we can work on filling with a new generation of Banning rug rats.”

Uhhhhh … babies? Were they talking about babies? Good grief. They really were on some surreal fast track.

She snickered. “Yes, well, we’ll negotiate on that whole gestate a human being thing. Before that, you might want to review my bonus check a few more times if you think keeping me barefoot and pregnant is a plan.”

“Fucking golddigger.”

“Asshole sex god.”

They were going to make a great team.

Breakfast at the Banning homestead when both boys were home was quite an adventure. A loud and boisterous one.

Thrilled to see Marsh again, Edward had him in a brotherly headlock in the first five minutes they were all in the same room. To say he loved his little bro was an understatement. Marsh had been his lieutenant, sidekick, and provoker from his earliest memory. They were alike but different. Probably as it should be.

The pancakes had flown; a slab of bacon the size a two-year-old got sliced and cooked. Two dozen eggs were prepared, and throughout it all, his mom and Paige had smiled and shook their heads. Good times.

They were gathered around the table. Paige, of course, was on his lap, and his folks were doing that tag team thing parents did so well as they tried to pry information from Marsh who, as usual, was a font of nothing.

“So, what does that mean, hon? Are you staying? Passing through? Heading where?”

Moms. They knew how to get right to the heart of things.

“Actually, Mom, I’ve got something to keep me busy. I’m calling it Project-Get-a-Life.”

Paige snorted. Marsh had been traipsing around the globe for years following fuck knows what whims. He didn’t share much, and she knew Edward was slightly mystified about what he did with his time. And money.

“Does this life involve getting a job?”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, big brother. A job? You mean like what you do? Calling that a job now, are we?”

“Hey, don’t be hating just ‘cause I found a way to make money and have fun.”

They tossed off a few arm punches for good measure.

“What? So you think flashing your pecs for all the soccer moms is better than being an astronaut? Or a writer? Isn’t that what you planned to do when you grew up?”

“An astronaut?” Paige asked. “For real?”

He nodded. “Yep. I wanted to be the Jack Kerouac of outer space.”

“Don’t you mean Jules Verne?”

Marsh cut in. “Oh, hell no! Jules wrote about fantasy. Old Ed wanted actually to ride the rockets then send dispatches that he’d authored from real experiences back to Planet Earth. It was all so futuristic when we were kids. Never too late, hmm?”

“Well, in any case, does this new plan of yours involve settling down in one place?”

It occurred to him as he watched his mother lazily stir her tea with a small, satisfied smile on her face that he’d taken over from them with the third degree of his brother. Damn, they were clever.

Marshall cleared his throat and paused to collect some thoughts. Edward would know that contemplative expression anywhere. Paige sat straighter, aware of the change in the room. His dad stopped tapping his fingers on the table and narrowed his eyes. He wondered if having two sons had been the crazy ride Edward thought it was.

“The thing is,” Marshall began, “I’ve got all these properties. Mostly rentals. Some still in fix-up mode and …”

“Say again?” his mother chimed in. “You have what?”

“Uh, did you say properties?” Paige asked.

Edward went slack-jawed. Was this a joke? What the hell was Marsh talking about?

“Yeah … it’s kind of like this, guys. I know y'all figured I blew Gran’s inheritance.”

Edward went perfectly still. Gran’s inheritance. Holy shit. They’d each received a hefty chunk of cha-ching when she passed on. That was what Edward had been living on when he moved to Los Angeles. All these years they’d all assumed that when Marsh took off to Europe and basically didn’t come home for three years that he was churning and burning his share.

“Almost right away I started building a real estate portfolio …”

He kept talking, but Edward heard nothing after the words real estate and portfolio. Paige had always said that one day Marsh would surprise them all. Looked like that day just arrived.

“So now, I’ve got to make some decisions about what to do next.”

A mini-explosion went off in Edward’s head. “Hey, any of these properties be good for something like, oh, I don’t know … maybe a B&B?”

Paige’s head was whipping back and forth between him and his brother so fast it was a wonder she didn’t get whiplash.

"A B&B?” his mother interjected. “I like the way that sounds. What brought that up, dear?”

Running his hand up and down Paige’s back, he slowly smiled. This was unbelievable. It was like a future of enormous possibilities that had been idle thoughts until spoken out loud were opening up all around them.

“Paige has an idea about a chain of family-oriented guest suites,” he told his mother. Turning to Marsh, he added, “You should talk to her, bro. She’s really on to something.”

“If it means we get to see more of you two, and now Paige, as well, I’m all for it.” His father looked like a man who just hit the jackpot with his last quarter.

“Speaking of which,” Marsh drawled. “I’m invoking the Banning custom of kidnapping the bride before the ceremony.”

“You’re joking, I hope.” Paige chuckled.

His mother got the last word in this conversation. “No joke, dear. Marsh is right. All the Banning brides are waylaid right before the wedding. Last chance for a change of heart. Clarity and all that.”

Over his dead body, Edward fumed.