Page 2 of Deception & Daylight
Fuck. Me.
Instead of tapping out a response, I decide to play with my prey. I quickly strip off my jeans and tank top before heading over to the full-length mirror attached to my armoire. I’ve done my fair share of sexting, and this angle always gets meexactlywhat I’m after. I muss up my naturally wavy hair, leaving my fingers locked in the strands as I lean my head to the side and cross one leg in front of the other. My nipples are visibly hard beneath my lacy blush bra, my cheeks flushed, looking freshly fucked. I’m a confident 23-year-old woman, and I know I look damn good. I snap a couple of photos from different angles, making sure to get it just right before selecting the best one to send off to Miles. He has no idea who he’s dealing with. Miles, eat your heart out.
Miles: Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Ready to play, little minx?
Chapter 1
Mags
? I Would, Would You - Kelsea Ballerini
Iglance down at the blank page, my fingers resting on the keys of my favorite sage green typewriter, poised and waiting for inspiration to strike. But that hope is futile. I haven’t written a single word all day.
My phone vibrates on the dark wood coffee table — a welcome distraction. I swipe to answer the call, and suddenly a chubby face that looks strikingly like a tiny version of my best friend is staring back at me. With her dark eyes and curly brown hair, Sofia is the spitting image of her mom. She smiles her dimpled smile as my face comes into view, and before I can even utter a word, she tries to pull the phone straight into her mouth with her tiny, ineffectual fists. Paige snatches it back seconds before the sloppy, wet assault, but it’s unlikely to come away completely unscathed. “Sorry, Sofia’s teething something fierce,” she says with an apologetic smile.
“Couldn’t be me,” I tease. “How’s the sleep regression?”
Her nose crinkles. “Ugh. Don’t get me started. Besides, if I wanted to talk about mom shit, I’d call Ivy. How’s the new roomie?”
“He’s no Paige, that’s for sure. Mostly keeps to himself, which I appreciate.” After Paige moved out, I put off finding a new roommate for as long as I could, but Dad insisted on the extra income, even though he has more money than he knows what to do with.
“And have you told your dad you’re not taking the job yet?” I grumble a curse under my breath, not liking where the conversation is headed, tossing my head back against the sofa cushions. “You’re gonna have to tell him sooner rather than later. It’s not healthy for you to keep pushing it off. You have your own dreams to chase, babe. You shouldn’t let his archaic bullshit about legacies and living up to the Watson name keep you from chasing them.” She pauses to throw up air quotes around “Watson name,” and I can’t help but laugh.
Through no fault of her own, Paige doesn’t know I’ve already achieved my biggest dream. It’s not that I don’t trust her, I just haven’t found the right time to bring it up.
I never intended to keep it a secret, but it’s been a year since my debut came out under a pen name and nobody outside of my immediate publishing team knows about it. Everyone involved in my career has signed NDAs to protect my identity, including my editor and cover artist. If word gets back to my dad that I’m writing spicy romance novels, I’ll never hear the end of it. The press alone would be a nightmare. I can already see the headlines:Heiress to the Watson Empire Writes Smut.
With a resigned sigh, I nod my agreement. “He’s flying in for a business meeting next month and I’ll tell him over dinner.”
“Good. I’m proud of you, babe. Whatever you decide to do next, I’ll be here.”
“I know you will. That’s why you’re my favorite. How’s Cowboy?” Iask, referring to her husband by the nickname she bestowed upon him the first time they met.
“The ‘man cold’ is very much a real thing, I can confirm. He gets the sniffles, and you’d think he was just diagnosed with some rare terminal illness.”
“Need me to fly down there and kick his ass for you?” I mime throwing a terrible punch that would very likely end in a broken bone, and Paige snorts in amusement.
“I think we’ll survive. But if he keeps getting on my damn nerves,hemight not.”
“I’ve got duct tape and a tarp, and airline miles at my disposal. Just say the word.”
“I heard that.” Cade’s muffled voice comes across the line as I spot his messy brown hair ducking into frame behind Paige. She twists the phone so they’re both in view and Cade looks like he’s recently been run over by a truck.
“You look like shit, Cowboy. Are you sure you’re not going to expire on us?”
“Y’all are stuck with me for a while longer, I’m afraid.” Leaning over the back of the massive grey couch where Paige is seated, he kisses her cheek in that achingly familiar way that has her melting on the spot. “How’s the great white north,Margaret?”
I huff out an indignant sound, narrowing my eyes to slits. “Did you really just use my government name?”
“Yep. Best friend’s husband privileges,” he deadpans.
“I don’t think that’s a thing. In any case, life is pretty tame up here. Free healthcare, poutine, fuckboys in hockey pants. The usual.”
Cade chuckles. “Same ol’ Mags. I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He murmurs something about Sofia’s shitty diaper before striding out of frame with his daughter held at arm’s length.
“Domestic life is so glamorous,” Paige says sardonically, wrinkling her nose in disgust as a waft of whatever Sofia’s packing hits her nose.
“That’s exactly why I don’t want one of those. Well. That, and I don’t have a motherly bone in my body.”
