Unlikely Allies (12 page)

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Authors: C. C. Koen

BOOK: Unlikely Allies
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That much she could provide.

There weren’t many children in their neighborhood Cece’s age, so when she asked to stay longer to play, Maggie had a hard time saying no. By eight o’clock though and most partygoers long gone, she went upstairs to check on the kids. Lizbeth, Harley, and Cece were asleep in beanbag chairs,
Frozen
playing on the TV. She turned it off and picked up Cece. A heavy sleeper, the jostling hadn’t even woken her. She’d let Matt know about the girls when she got downstairs, since Sophia had the baby in the bath.

Headed through the hallway, she turned toward the stairs and ran right into Mr. Stone as he stepped onto the landing. With her foot midair, she lost her balance, bouncing off him. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her and Cece into his chest and backing her into the wall. Face to face, breath to breath, lips a mere centimeter apart, shivers flowed in slow motion from her toes to tingling mouth. His broadened stance and rock-hard thighs braced hers. With Cece cushioned high on her waist in between them, they were pelvis to pelvis. That thought sent pins and needles through her, causing her core to clench and eliciting another tremble.

Mr. Stone breathed, “Maggie.” His lower lip slid along hers as he tugged her tighter.

Ignoring better judgment, she nipped his moist flesh and sucked him into her mouth. He groaned, and their tongues twirled and entwined, battling for control. His firm grasp cupped her behind and lifted her toward him, rubbing and stroking his hardness into the throb between her legs. Over the thumping heartbeat in her ears and a shift of weight in her arms, common sense got slapped into her when she heard a sleepy, “Max . . . Mama.”

She wasn’t sure which of them leapt away first. When it happened, they wore similar expressions: flushed cheeks, glossy lips, and wide alert eyes. The impromptu tryst took her by surprise too. Their heavy panting batted back and forth, off of each other. Her throat tightened and flashbacks assaulted her—Jake, his explosive desire for her in the beginning, and then Cece came along, and he couldn’t stomach the sight of her or his daughter. Lust, attraction, pheromones—whatever this might be wouldn’t last. Men wanted one thing—sex, a challenge. Once they had it, they moved on. Just as Jake had, cheating on her time and time again. This man wasn’t any different. His one-night stand disclosed as much at the restaurant, and his reaction proved it.

Finished with the encounter and him, she concentrated on Cece instead. Her daughter’s eyes were shuttered and there hadn’t been another peep out of her. She grabbed the railing and dashed around him, catapulting down the stairs. No one trailed her, and she marched through the vacant first floor in search for Matt, finding him sprawled on a hammock in the backyard chatting with Kat. After letting him know the girls had to be tucked into bed, she ordered her sister out of the hot tub and hurried toward the gate for a quick escape.

Her sister’s head-banger tunes did nothing to obscure her manic thoughts or drown out her brain’s furious and distraught lecture during the drive home.

That was beyond stupid.

Forget he exists.

You have enough to deal with.

You need to focus on your daughter.

No matter what Emma said, he’s not a family man.

He’ll break your heart and your daughter’s.

Whatever it takes do not let him in.

No way.

No how.

Never.

Ever.

H
OW DID HE FUCK THAT
up—again? All he wanted to do was apologize for mouthing off and embarrassing her in front of his employees. He hadn’t been sorry for what he said, just how it came out. She really needed to be more careful where the little bugger kept running off to. Twenty-five floors high, their building provided a lot of nooks and crannies for Cece to hide in, let alone the worst possibility, someone
could
take her. He might not want kids of his own, but he never wanted harm to come to anyone else’s children.

Given multiple chances to set things straight, he’d blown it. Not only with that, he screwed up big time by kissing her. Damn, that had been stupid. His tongue was still on fire, and the second he had Maggie in his arms, he got an instant hard-on. If they had been alone, he would have ripped off her tiny shorts and rammed into her from behind. And that thought pissed him off all over again.

Slamming his fist against the wall, he sucked in an overwhelmed breath and blew out his frustration. All he could smell were vanilla cupcakes, sprinkled with a dozen candy-coated flavors. Maggie’s passion fruit center and her addictive spices clung to his taste buds and permeated every cell in his body. In an attempt to scrub her scent off, he rubbed a hand over his mouth and clasped them on top of his head, beating a path up and down the hall, cursing to high heaven and himself.

A clearing throat halted him mid-step at the twins’ bedroom. When he glanced over his shoulder, he cringed at another head-on collision waiting to happen. Matt leaned against the railing, his arms crossed. “What’d you do?”

“Fuck off.” He dropped his arms and bolted to the stairs. “I was gonna give the girls a kiss good night, but you can do that for me. I’m outta here.” Before he made it to the second step, Matt grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

“Why you fightin’ it so hard? Just give in. Maggie would be perfect for you.”

He clamped onto Matt’s wrist and backed up a step, squaring off and putting them on even footing. “You must have one hell of a boring life if you can’t stay out of mine. Maybe you’re not gettin’ enough. Is that it? Tryin’ to live through me, Matt?”

An instant shot came at Rick’s jaw and got blocked by his forearm before he shoved Matt off. Never one to miss out on a good fight, Matt dove in again, taking a potshot at his cheek when Sophia jumped in between them, slapping their chests.

“Knock it off.”

Had Rick not been pissed, he would’ve gotten a good laugh out of Sophia trying to manhandle two hundred plus pounds, and the six foot two males, dwarfing her.

“You hotheads, cool it. Whatever the problem is, it isn’t worth ruining your friendship.” Sophia grabbed her husband’s cheeks, insisting he look at her. “We all had such a good time, let’s not finish it this way.” Pussy whipped, Matt forgot all about him as he yanked Sophia by the hips and crashed his mouth onto hers. Then Matt lifted his gaze and shot him the middle finger.

Aiming one right back, he darted down the stairs, slamming the door on his way out.

After another jam-packed schedule, one off-site meeting after another, Rick entered the lobby at four thirty hoping Mrs. Collins didn’t have a pile of messages waiting for him.

“Hi ya, Mr. Stone, how’s it goin’ today?” Sam, the security guard, called out.

As often as possible, Rick would stop and shoot the breeze. Grateful for the diversion, he set his briefcase on the counter, relaxing for a change. “Did you catch the fights last night?”

“Don’t miss 'em.” Sam swung his fist toward his own chin, mimicking an upper cut. “Mendoza KO’d Faust in the first round. How about that? You owe me a Jackson. Your loss is my gain, Mr. Stone. You keep on addin’ to my retirement fund.” Sam rubbed his hands together and extended his palm out.

Rick pulled the wallet from his back pocket, thumbed through the cash, and tossed a twenty on the counter. “I thought I’d beat you this time. Faust was the favorite.”

“Ah, you got to look at more than the odds. Mendoza may be up 'n’ coming, but he didn’t get the bout with the middleweight champ for no reason. That boy has fists of steel.”

“Rick, there you are. I was just in your office and your secretary said she didn’t expect you for hours.”

Because Mrs. Collins knew he didn’t want to see Julia, now or ever. As she drew closer, he scanned the enormous lobby, hoping for an easy escape. Even Sam ducked his head, concentrating on the video screens lining his desk, a grimace pinching his mouth. Julia Kensington got a fight-or-flight effect out of most people, since she had a bad habit of treating everybody as if they were beneath her, regardless of income level. With nowhere to go, he locked his feet in place, preparing for her barrage. “Was there something you needed?”

A designer white silk pantsuit added to her look-but-don’t-touch persona as she sashayed, heels clicking on the marble floor. Her smile widened, and she tucked her arm through his, clamping her claws onto his wrist. “Yes, you. I want you to take me to dinner.” She smoothed a hand down his lapel and repositioned the handkerchief in his breast pocket even though it didn’t need it. Too close for comfort, she settled her hand on his shoulder, smothering her chest against his. “I’m tired of waiting for you, Rick. If you won’t come to me, I’ll have to chase you.” Julia’s rapid fluttering eyelashes were not at all appealing to him.

As he stepped away from her, something plowed into him from behind and wrapped around his thighs, squeezing hard. When he looked over his shoulder, Cece beamed up at him, not saying a word, unlike her normal shouted greeting. “Where’s your mom?” Again, no speaking; instead she pointed behind her to the other side of the lobby. The moment he caught sight of Maggie, his chest tightened as well as other parts of his anatomy.

Engrossed in a conversation with a woman and little girl who wore identical navy blue and white striped sailor dresses and berets, Maggie glanced at him and just as quickly refocused on the matching brunettes, a mother and daughter who took stylish to an extreme.

Ducking down to Cece’s height, he yanked her up from under her arms and placed her on the counter. “How are you, sweet pea?”

Cece lifted her hand, pressed two fingers together and pointed to the left, followed by sticking her pinky up. Tongue bit between her teeth, she scrunched her brows and tucked her thumb under three fingers. Then switched the arrangement to cupping her palm closed, thumb extended, and then crooked her forefinger up.

From over the counter, Sam relayed, “She said, ‘Hi, Max.’”

Shocked by what he’d seen and Sam verified, Rick addressed the little wonder. “Were you signing?”

Her answer came as clapping. Cece threw both arms around Rick’s neck and squeezed tight. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he nestled her against his chest in a tender embrace. Intense pride engulfed him. Unable to resist, he told her exactly that. A faint peck on his cheek lodged a swollen lump in his throat. As he took a step back, Cece pointed across the lobby again and continued to sign. He looked across the counter for assistance.

“Robin,” Sam announced.

Rick followed Cece’s arm, pointing to the girl. Two plus two put together, he asked, “Is that your friend?”

Again, rapid head bobbing and a toothy Cece grin.

Adding it all up, he prompted, “Did she teach you that?”

More clapping and Cece bouncing up and down on the counter.

“Show me how to say, ‘Hi, Robin.’” Cece grabbed Rick’s arm and lifted one finger after another, repositioning them in sequence and demonstrating the greeting. Once again, pride and something else he resisted shouting out loud hit him in the middle of his chest. After practicing a few times, Cece confirmed with a pat on his shoulder that he’d performed it accurately. Ready to test out his new skills, he signed the salutation toward the dark-haired cutie with pigtails braided just like Cece’s and received a “hi” from Robin in return.

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