Page 35 of Whatever Will Be

“What about the First Street condos? There’s a lot to be done before those can be slapped on the market.”

“Get Diane to handle it.”

She hesitates.

“Come on,” I urge, feeling bad that my most dedicated employee has been pushing herself too hard since I relocated. “You and Linus can enjoy a pre-baby getaway or something.”

She’s still thinking. “He’s been trying to get me to step back. My blood pressure has been a little high.”

“There you have it. Don’t worry about anything. Take the full three months, longer if you want.”

Kaia grins. “For a notorious badass you sure are a hell of a boss.”

“Don’t let that news get out. I’m more effective if I’m widely known as an asshole.”

“No one will hear the truth from me. Thanks, Trent.”

“Take care.”

She disconnects and I stare at the picture on the screen for a moment. It’s one of the few pictures of my mother that I still have after my dickhead brother destroyed photos, mementos and anything else he could get his heartless hands on. She’s not posing here. She’s in the middle of speaking, using her hands with an animated look on her face. It was taken at some summer neighborhood block party during our early years in Lake Stuart. Danny was the one who sent it to me after I was finally free of Tavington. He said Jules discovered the picture in a box filled with random photos and thought I might want to have it. I’m sure I never thanked her for passing it along but I was grateful.

I click the internet icon and scroll to my latest bookmark. Social media holds zero appeal for me so I keep my distance. Gretchen, however, takes a more normal approach and has accounts for both personal and professional use. The page I’m looking at is the only one that shows a profile picture and I’d like to see the rest of the content but her account is set to private. If I want to see it then I have to send her a freaking friend request, which is like waving a stalker flag. She might not even update this account anymore. It looks to me like the profile pic was taken a couple of years ago. She’s wearing a college sweatshirt and sitting at a table at a bar. Her red hair gleams and she’s laughing while some faceless guy drapes a casual arm over her shoulders. It’s probably unreasonable for me to hate that guy but I’d still like to growl and smack his arm away. He shouldn’t be touching her, not even digitally.

Gretchen.

I can’t recall another woman who’s captured my attention the way she has. She’s smart and she’s obscenely sexy and nothing fazes her.

Nothing.

There are times when I look at her and I’m sure that if I don’t do something soon my dick is going to become outraged enough to start a revolution.

When that happens she stares back at me with a superior smile as if she knows what’s on my mind and is entertained by my assumption that I might have what it takes to handle her.

I’m dying to show off just how well I can handle her.

Gretchen, for all her worldly, feisty confidence, won’t be able to walk straight for a fucking week if I decide to surrender.

I’m still deciding.

Because she’s still Danny’s sister and because I don’t want to be a prick.

But mostly because starting something with Gretchen will mean opening the door to complications I was never expecting to have.

With that thought in mind and with my cock in a grumpy mood, I head to the bathroom, strip down and turn the shower on full blast. I need to jerk off or I won’t be able to think for the rest of the day.

“I’m not shy about getting my fill.”

“Fuck,” I groan, planting one palm on the wall and stroking myself with the other as I picture soft lips and perky tits and a round little ass that’s begging to be violated.

“There’s nothing you can show me that I haven’t seen or done already.”

She underestimates me. I like that. I want to surprise her. I want to watch her green eyes widen and then roll back into her head as she shudders underneath me. I want her hands clawing at my hair while my mouth defiles the hot center between her legs.

I want to take it all. Everything.

But today I have to settle for a fantasy as I come hard, pant for a minute with my forehead against the tile, and then seize the shower gel to wash off.

Yesterday I made plans with Danny to go to the batting cages later. While I haven’t played the game in years, I’ve taken swings at the cages now and then and no one can accuse me of being out of shape. I wonder what kind of path I might have followed if Liam and the horrors of Tavington hadn’t twisted my destiny into something different. Anyway, swinging a bat with my old buddy amid doses of good natured banter is something I didn’t have for a long time and I’m glad to have it again. Danny needs to make up his mind soon and decide what he plans to do about the upcoming season.

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