Chapter Fourteen

Brick looked up as Kane walked into the house, carrying a cup of coffee and a box of Duck Donuts. "Was wondering where you were," he commented as his friend opened the lid and snatched up a pastry. "We keep missing each other. Hey, did you have an interview? You're dressed up."

Kane dropped to the chair across from him. His hair was slicked back, and he wore white linen pants, a cream T-shirt, and leather boat shoes. Brick got the impression that he'd just left his yacht.

Dug waddled over, plunking his butt down next to Kane. Head turned up and tongue lolling, he stared with intensity as the man bit into the donut. "Dude, these are sick. They literally have a chocolate coconut one with toasted pieces. And the carrot cake? Are you kidding me?"

Brick laughed. "You're from New York. Aren't you used to some of the best pastries in the world?"

"Not like this. No, Dug, you'll get sick." The dog didn't budge or blink. Brick wondered how long it would take Kane to buckle. It was hard to enjoy anything with Dug focused on a stakeout.

Kane munched on his treat with greed. "As for my outfit? Have I not taught you anything? A man dresses for success at all times." Kane shuddered. "I swore I'd never dress sloppy again once I got out of prison. I was lucky enough to walk away with a decent wardrobe stuffed into those two duffel bags. They took everything else."

Brick's lip twitched. "Thought you said you were in there for only a few days? You got out on bail."

"Long enough for it to rate as the scariest time in my life. They don't like white-collar criminals in lockup. Bad shit happens to them."

Brick knew his friend used his sharp sense of humor to gloss over the details of what had happened, but there were deeper scars. Kane shared only a few details, but the bottom line was brutal. Once a successful property developer with a fat bank account, he'd lost everything. His money, his job, his luxury apartment, and his reputation. He was lucky the criminal charges were dropped. When Brick repeatedly asked why he hadn't told the truth about who really stole the money and forged the documents, Kane refused to answer.

His loyalty had almost made him a convicted criminal. Yet Kane never broke.

Brick figured he'd be perfect in the mafia.

"You gonna tell me how last night went?" Kane asked, breaking off a crumb and giving it to Dug. "I see you didn't sleep at home."

"Thanks for noticing, Mom. I'll check in next time."

Kane grinned, starting on his second donut. "Just an observation. Stay at her place?"

"Nope. We pulled an all-nighter with the sea turtles. Then I drove her home."

His friend raised a brow. "Going slow, huh? You must like her. That's her book you're reading, right?" He pointed to Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover on the coffee table. He was halfway through and a bit obsessed. The book had the type of writing that made him want to stay up all night to finish. But Brick knew it was more than the plot or the skilled prose.

It was about Aspen. The way she'd written the heroine, Mallory, with such raw honesty and vulnerability, allowing the reader to experience not only the ups and downs of first love, but also the brutality of betrayal. With each page, there was a careful buildup as the story took shape, giving Brick a sense of dread, despite him knowing the ending.

Even though Aspen had told him the real story, he felt he understood her in a new way.

Brick took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah. She's a good writer." He'd never tell Kane about their arrangement, but he also didn't want to lie. Better to keep his explanation simple. "I do like her."

It was the truth. He did like Aspen, a whole lot more than he'd planned. Last night had been special in ways he still didn't understand. Brick knew his job was to not only seduce her but make her fall emotionally for him. He'd planned to share some intimate dialogue on the beach with a bit of dancing. He'd planned to kiss her again and make her want him.

But it had become so much…more. Brick forgot about his plan and followed his gut. He'd loved talking business with her and brainstorming. He found the strength she held to carve out her success story and follow her dreams inspiring. He'd craved holding her in his arms and being close, which had nothing to do with a thought-out plan. Her slight shyness hinted at an inexperience that satisfied some strange, primitive instinct inside, making him want to be the one to show her how much pleasure he could give. He couldn't wait to finally take her to bed. To make her his.

For a little while.

Kane whistled. "Good for you, man. I promise I'm working on getting out of here. Maybe another week."

"I'm not screwing around, Kane. I want you to stay. The place is big enough. There's no reason for you to go somewhere else. You're like family. I missed you. Okay?"

His friend swiveled around and gazed at him. For a rare moment, Brick saw not only the gratitude but also the new edge of pain in his friend's green eyes. Yeah, Kane had a mess of emotion buried deep. Normally, he evoked an easy charm and confidence that made people happily bend to his will. Cracks had appeared now. The lifestyle he'd once enjoyed was gone, and he needed to rebuild—inside and out.

Brick knew he'd listen if Kane ever wanted to talk, but his friend had never been one to share his feelings. "Thanks. I appreciate that more than you know."

"Then prove it. Save me a damn donut."

Kane snorted. "Think I could buy out the owner? Build a Duck Donut dynasty?"

"You'd get bored. Plus, you'd end up eating too much of your supply and wouldn't fit into those designer clothes you ran away with."

"Asshole. I'll give you the Oreo one. I know you're old-school," Kane said.

Dug's eyes began to water because he refused to blink.

Kane threw up his hands. "Fine. But if you throw up, Uncle Kane is not at fault. You asked for this."

Brick shook his head as his dog snagged another piece. At least there were carrots in it.

"How are renovations going? Sal's a good guy. Smart and competent, which is hard to find nowadays," Kane said.

"Yeah, I lined him and his team up a year ago when I thought I could pull this off. Had them on retainer so they jumped right in when I called. They're working overtime to get it done in a few days."

"Incredible. Glad you finally got a loan, even at high interest. If you plan to give more tours, I'm happy to jump in. Or work behind the desk. Anything you need for the free rent."

"That could be useful if you're game. Gotta study up on the wild horses and your history, though. You can shadow me a few times if you're really interested. But no pressure."

"Nah, it'd be good for me. I'd like to get out there and meet some of the locals. It's nice here. May stick around."

"Good." Brick finished his coffee and stood. "I'm heading out but come by later. You can ride with me on a run and see what it's like."

Brick cleaned up and got ready. He was at the door when he heard Kane's distraught yell.

"Dug, no! Ah, I told you no donuts!"

Yeah, he'd crapped in Kane's room. Brick quietly snuck out and gently shut the door behind him, laughing all the way to Ziggy's Tours. When he arrived, he noticed a bunch of strange sticks arranged along the curb outside. A few bundles held sprigs of leaves, like herbs, and they were smoking, giving off a strange, heavily perfumed scent that wasn't quite pleasant. Frowning, he moved one with his foot and saw two letters sketched out roughly in black ink.

BB.

Son of a bitch . Maleficent was up to her old tricks again, trying to put some damn spell on him. Even though he didn't believe in that stuff, something about the bundles gave him the creeps. Did she have some type of voodoo doll where she stabbed him with pins?

The other day, he'd gotten a wicked headache that came out of the blue.

And there was that strange pain in his knee that flared now and then.

No. He would not let that woman get into his head.

Brick crushed the bundles with his shoe, stamping out the smoke, then headed inside to grab a towel to pick them up. No way was he touching them with his bare hands.

He greeted the crew, studying the new space with satisfaction. It was looking like he'd once imagined. Instead of a shabby, sad reception area, there was a spacious waiting room, a new desk, and a dedicated coffee/refreshment spot for guests. The disgusting carpet was gone, and new beechwood flooring had been installed. It gave the space a professional, open vibe that immediately made a person want to stay.

"Looks great," Brick said as Sal walked over .

"Not much left. We'll finish up tomorrow, and then my guy will paint. The new door is coming later today."

"Appreciate it. I know getting this done with your workload was a bitch."

Sal flashed him a grin. "Made you a promise and glad to keep it. Ziggy was a legend in these parts. I like knowing I was part of salvaging this place."

Brick shook his hand, grabbed a towel, and went back outside.

He was discarding the stick bundles when Maleficent came roaring into the parking lot in her bright-pink Hummer, which was empty for now. She marched over, hands on her hips. "What are you doing?"

He straightened and glared. "Disposing of your ridiculous attempt to curse my property."

"Dramatic, much? It's just some sage to clear out bad-tempered spirits. I was doing you a favor." She rolled her eyes, heavily accented in black liner. Her dark hair hung freely to her hips in inky black strands threaded with blue. She wore a skimpy black tank top, shorts, and high-heeled boots. The outfit should look ridiculous, but somehow fit her. "And I meant, what are you doing to the place? Why are you renovating? How did you get a new Jeep?"

Satisfaction coursed through him. After all her tricks, he'd finally trumped her. "Got a loan," he drawled. "Fixing the place up."

Fire lit her dark eyes. "Ziggy doesn't deserve a second chance at this place," she spat.

"Lady, you just have to get over whatever my grandfather did to piss you off. This is my business now, and I intend to make it work. Even with your efforts at sabotage."

Her red lips pulled back in a sneer. "You're just like him. Treating women like playthings, discarding them when you want to move on. You don't deserve this place either!"

Brick held on to his temper. "I just want to run my business in peace, okay? Can we try to get along here? Be friendly competitors?"

"No." She narrowed her gaze on him, then spun on her heel. "You can't flick me away like an annoying gnat. I'm the voice for all the women you and your grandfather destroyed. Especially Anastasia. She deserves justice."

With one last furious glance, Maleficent got into her happy pink vehicle and drove away, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Brick closed his eyes and groaned.

Well, that went well .

He'd just have to watch out as he moved forward. Hopefully, she'd tire of her revenge plot, and he could run Ziggy's Tours in peace.

"I have to go away on a buyer's trip for a few days," Sierra said.

Aspen looked up from her notebook, casually shutting it to shield the contents from her sister's natural nosiness. Once again, she'd started out working on the book but was only able to write a page. Even though her brain spun with creative energy from her night with Brick, she ended up doodling and writing another Zany Zoo chapter. The beach had inspired her to create an epic vacation story where Coral Snake pops the tires on their car and strands Purple Bunny and Piggy in the middle of a deserted island. The local residents—otter-like creatures—pop out of their hidden caves to help, and a battle ignites. Aspen thought it was her best installment yet and found herself losing time, caught up in her writing.

Which wasn't a good thing when she was on a deadline.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing up to stretch.

"Myrtle Beach. I need to meet a supplier. It's a female-run local company that donates a percentage to nonprofit women's shelters. I think it'll be a great fit for us."

"That's awesome. I'll take care of everything here."

Her sister arched a brow. "You didn't come home until six this morning."

"I told you. We were babysitting the sea turtles."

Sierra continued to gaze at her. Aspen tried not to squirm, even though she wasn't hiding anything. Her sister should've been a private investigator. "You didn't sleep together yet?"

"Nope."

"He left you chastely at the front door after hours alone on a beach in the middle of the night?"

"Yep."

Sierra gave a sharklike grin. "There was definitely fooling around. I can tell."

Aspen groaned. "Yes, we kissed and…fooled around. We're moving slow. I can't just have sex and get my heart involved. It needs wooing."

Her sister laughed. "As it should, babe. Just want to be sure you're on track for the epic Brick Babel fall and heartbreak. Does he kiss as good as I imagine?"

Aspen literally shuddered as the memory of last night took hold. They'd danced to Billy Joel's entire CD, kissing, touching, and basically falling over each other like it was senior prom night. After she'd pulled away, Brick had known instinctively how far to push their physical intimacy. Aspen had never made out and fooled around without any worries before. Even with Ryan, she'd always been calculating how to make sure she pleased him or followed his lead. This was the first time she'd been allowed to experience her pleasure on her terms with no endgame.

It was a freeing experience as a woman. And it was sad that she'd never had it before.

Brick had given her that gift in one perfect, romantic night.

"Yep, it's better than I imagined," Sierra commented. "Your face says it all. Just please don't do it on the living room sofa, okay? It's my favorite place to sit, and I don't want to imagine dirty deeds with my sister on the velvet couch."

"Stop!" Aspen couldn't help but laugh. "Though I should get you back for doing it with Terrance Fisher in my bed. Ugh. Gross."

Sierra shrugged. "I knew Mom would be checking my bedsheets for clues. She wouldn't bother with yours."

"You're diabolical."

"And you're a show-off, using big words." Sierra walked away, leaving Aspen shaking her head with humor. She'd forgotten how much fun it was to be with her sister. She liked chatting over dinner, sharing their favorite TV shows, and hanging out with glasses of wine. Over these past few weeks, Aspen had begun to realize that even though she liked her own company, she'd been verging on loneliness.

With a sigh, she refocused on her book. Nicolette had sent over the publishing contract with a deadline date in three months for the first draft. Usually, Aspen took eight months to write the first draft, then dealt with developmental and copy edits. But because her publisher had a huge demand for the sequel, they wanted a quick turnaround and a crash publication date for next spring. Aspen wasn't used to the added pressure of such a tight timeframe to write, but she'd confidently told Nic she could deliver and swore she'd get it done.

Groaning, she read over the last few paragraphs. It sucked. Why wasn't it good? Brick was delivering everything she wanted. She was already a bit addicted to his company, and her body craved his. There were emotions brewing. She'd even tried to craft a scene where the heroine dances on the beach during sunset with the hero, and though it was everything Aspen had felt in real time, the scene fell flat. Panic edged her nerves, but she wrestled it back.

We have to get this done , she told her bitchy muse, who was somewhere in Mexico, drunk on margaritas and not helping.

I don't like this story , she drawled. I'll come back when you give me something more interesting. We wrote this book already.

It's the sequel , Aspen hissed. It's different .

Yawn. I have a new idea for Zany Zoo if you're interested.

I'm not. Get back to your paying job, please, or we'll be failures.

Silence.

God, she needed help. Definitely more inspiration. Maybe something to raise the stakes of her emotional attachment to Brick.

Aspen stared at the blinking cursor and came to a brand-new conclusion. One that had her heart pounding, her palms sweating, and her nipples hardening.

It was time to have sex with Brick.

That would jump-start her muse and get her back from vacay.

She was going to have sex with Brick.

Before she could chicken out, Aspen tapped out a text. Want to come to dinner tomorrow night? Sierra's away on a trip.

She threw the phone onto the table and chewed her fingernails. He probably wouldn't answer till later. He was doing a million things today, and she was likely the last thing he was thinking about. He was out with the horses, working on marketing, and—

The phone shook.

Yes.

Oh, my God.

She was going to have sex with Brick.