Page 84 of Dirty Rival

“On the contrary,” he says. “I want you to be the reason I say yes, so let’s talk about what yes looks like. I’ve been on a mission to place my firm in every state and beyond, starting with Asia.”

Asia again, I think, already concerned.

“I’m buying complexes and buildings to develop around the firm,” he continues, “I don’t want the firm to be the only revenue in each state. I’ve completed the set-up of ten properties in ten states and two in Asia. I’ll consider letting you take over one location in the US and one overseas, to start, as a test.”

“What locations?” Reid asks.

“Japan and Austin, Texas,” Grayson replies. “I’ll need a proposal. I want to see how you will handle domestic and international locations. Analyze what we’ve done thus far, tell me what you’d do differently, and we’ll go from there, but you should know I have a proposal I favor.”

“Can I see it?” I ask.

“No, you cannot see it,” he says. “Give me your best foot forward, not someone else’s. I’ll provide you with details on what we’ve done thus far.”

“What about budgets?” I ask.

“What about return?” he replies. “That’s what I want. Returns. Make that number right and the total investment will land where it needs to land.”

“Fully funded by you?” Reid asks. “Or will you want investors?”

“I’ll consider all proposals,” Grayson says. “It’s all about the big picture and the returns. We can meet next week when I’m in the city if you’re ready.”

“We will be,” Reid replies and we all stand up. “We’ll get to work right away.”

“Work is good,” Grayson says, “but enjoy the weekend.”

“Thank you for allowing us to stay at your property,” I interject quickly and the three of us make small talk as we enter the house where Leslie greets us. I’m just raving over our meal when Reid motions to Grayson and the two men step back outside.

Leslie keeps talking, but I’m distracted. This private meeting between the two men, instigated by Reid, hits those same nerves the Elijah conversation with Grayson hit and it’s all I can do to keep chatting properly. When finally, after five minutes that feels like an hour, Reid returns without Grayson, this visit is over. We head for the door where we graciously thank Leslie for dinner, while tension curls in my belly and tightens every muscle in my body. I’m angry with Reid over the secrets he’s keeping that make me have to question him and I’m nervous about what just occurred. Maybe he was just asking Grayson what he thinks about me, which is reasonable, but it feels more like the Elijah thing, like something he doesn’t want me to know, and I don’t like it.

I fight the urge to explode at Reid when exploding really isn’t my thing. That tells me that the secrets just aren’t working for me. That tells me that I’m a hundred shades of over my head emotionally with this man. Once we are finally on the porch alone, I don’t look at Reid or speak. I know there could be cameras filming us and I need what comes next for us to be private, not part of some test Grayson Bennett is giving us. I know this entire night is just that: a test, and my actions now could be a reflection on my control and Reid’s presumed character.

We start walking down the stairs. “He likes you,” Reid says. “You won him over.”

My reaction is one-part relief while that anger I’m feeling stays firmly in place. I don’t respond. Nothing I say will come out right at this moment. Reid is smart. He says nothing else and side by side we walk down the sidewalk toward our car, where the driver waits at the car door. Reid motions to him and he climbs inside the car, leaving us to our approach alone. I charge forward and reach for the rear door, but Reid is behind me, his big body framing mine, his hand on my hand on the door. “Talk to me before we’re in the car with a driver.”

I don’t turn. “You’re my boss right now. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me professionally and I have to live with that. If we’re fucking, just fucking, you don’t have to tell me anything at all. But if this is a relationship, I don’t want secrets or lies between us. Decide which it’s going to be, Reid.”

Several heavy beats pass, and I sense an internal battle in him, and I think he will say something, but he doesn’t. He releases me and steps back. I open the car door and get inside, not sure what to expect when he follows, and most certainly not when we’re finally alone. I just know what I want and that’s him. I want this man and I’m not sure just fucking is enough anymore.

Chapter forty

Carrie

Reid joins me in the car and shuts us inside, the earthy woodsy scent of him teasing my nostrils, the power that is this man consuming me and the small space, and yet, he doesn’t touch me. In fact, he doesn’t even attempt to close the space between us. He settles in next to the door and taps the driver’s seat, which triggers the driver’s reaction. Without a word, the car is in motion, and with every inch we move, the space between me and Reid seems to widen. Somehow, despite this, I feel this man in every part of me. I have never in my life been so hyperaware of another human being. I want him to touch me. I want to touch him, but those secrets between us keep me in place, and him too, I suspect. Or perhaps I’ve scared him with my list of options right before we got into the car. Maybe he doesn’t want a relationship over fucking if that translates to transparency, while I don’t want a relationship over fucking that translates to secrecy. All I know is that I can’t continue on like this and I don’t even know what that means. Maybe we’re over. Maybe we’re just fucking, but again, I just don’t know if I can do that anymore and when my gaze catches on his hand on his knee, and I notice the way his fingers are digging into his leg, I know that he’s just as on edge as I am right now. I hate that I think of those hands on my body, too, but I do. I have it so damn bad for this man.

I’m not sure if it’s relief or distress I feel when only minutes later, the driver pulls us to the front of a navy-blue beachfront cottage illuminated in outdoor lighting. Reid doesn’t look at me. He simply reaches for his door and I spare us the awkwardness of him helping me exit. I don’t slide his direction, but rather open my door and get out. I meet Reid at the trunk where the driver unpacks our bags and Reid tips him before grabbing our luggage all himself before I can offer my help. “I have the key,” Reid says, his gaze meeting mine with a hard punch of tension between us. “Grayson gave it to me before we left.”

I nod and when I try to reach for my bag, he holds onto it. “I have it,” he murmurs, turning away to move ahead of me and up the sidewalk with a brisk enough pace that he’s already unlocking the door when I reach the porch. He shoves open the door and the light flickers on, be it by his efforts or a motion detector, I don’t know. Whatever the case, he enters the cottage first, and I follow him into a narrow hallway, black wood flooring beneath my feet. Reid sets the bags down by a wooden table, and I shut the door, turning to lock it, the very act one of claiming the control that feels so damn out of reach.

By the time I face forward again, Reid’s back in control. He’s in front of me, pulling me to him, his fingers tangling in my hair, those blue eyes staring down at me, and the fact that he’s touching me is a blessed relief. I need this man and it’s addictive and terrifying at the same time.

“Reid,” I whisper when he doesn’t immediately speak, asking for answers, asking for more.

His answer is not in words. His mouth slants over mine, his tongue stroking deeply, and that’s all it takes. I’m lost and found again in this moment and this man. There are no questions, no secrets, no need for control. There’s just this kiss and I sink into it, my arms wrapping around him, under his open jacket, my body pressing to every hard inch of him I can manage, a soft moan sliding from my lips at just how good he feels. But when he tears his mouth away, his lips linger a breath from mine, vulnerability, and presence of mind has me challenging him for answers and myself for sanity.

“Was that a fuck you kiss or a relationship kiss?” I demand. “Or maybe just a distraction, a way to forget the secrets?”

“What did it taste like, Carrie?” he demands, his voice low, rough.

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