14. Crossland

CHAPTER 14

Crossland

“Iunderstand that,” I said into the phone as I headed out of my in-home office, the smell of something cooking drawing me out even though I was still on the phone with my publicist.

“This is the sixth time you’ve been caught by the paparazzi with Aspen,” she said. “And you’ve barely given more than a bland statement that she’s your girlfriend. I’ve got requests from nine different media outlets wanting to know if the perpetual billionaire bachelor Crossland McClaren is officially off the market.”

I rolled my eyes, coming around the corner and stopping when I entered the kitchen.

Aspen was in front of the stove, wearing one of my button-down dress shirts and nothing else, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she flipped something in a skillet.

“I have no interest in that,” I finally said but my voice was rough.

How could she look so good while she was doing nothing more than simply cooking her grilled cheese?

“I get that, Crossland,” my publicist continued. “And I’ll do my best to keep them off your back. But I wanted to give you a warning, the press is getting anxious. They’ve been feeding off of your escapades for years. And now you’re giving them something new to talk about. They’re getting desperate, and if you don’t come out and make a statement then they’re going to make one up for you.”

“Don’t they always?” I asked. I understood where she was coming from and I really did appreciate it, but this was the same gossip-hungry press that claimed I’d had some kind of ritualistic orgy on my yacht two summers ago. Fact-checking wasn’t a thing for them, because if they did, they would’ve known that it wasn’t an orgy or a ritual, just me and some friends having a good time on the ocean. I’d only had one date at that event, and they painted me out to be some sex-starved fiend.

“I appreciate you looking out for me,” I voiced my gratitude out loud. “And I’m grateful for the heads-up. I don’t have a statement to make right now, but if I ever do, you know you’ll be the first one to know.”

There was a heavy sigh at the other end of the line before she said she understood and hung up.

I set my phone on the kitchen island, briefly rubbing the spot along my forehead that had started throbbing since she called. I understood all of this came with the territory, but lately it had felt overwhelming in a way that it never had before.

“Everything good?” Aspen asked, sliding a sandwich onto a plate and setting it before me. She served herself next, then leaned against the kitchen island as she tore little bits off her sandwich and popped them in her mouth.

“Business as usual,” I said, and she gave me a pointed look. I shrugged. “It was my publicist. I guess the media outlets are a little more interested in our relationship than I thought.”

“Oh?” Aspen asked, taking another bite of her grilled cheese.

I joined in, taking a good bite out of mine as well. It was domestic as fuck, but I really liked it. I’d learned that lately. I liked doing just about anything with this woman. It didn’t matter if we were dressed to the nines at one of my charity events, cheering on the Calgary team I owned, or sitting at the kitchen island eating grilled cheese. I just genuinely loved being around her.

“Yeah,” I finally said. “I need to give you a heads-up. My publicist says they’re getting desperate. It’s not enough that I’ve stated publicly that you’re my girlfriend, they want more details. They’re catching more shots of us out in public, and I guess the way we’re looking at each other is making people think that I’m officially off the market.”

Aspen’s eyes flared for a moment before an amused smile shaped her kissable lips.

I laughed with her. “It’s not funny,” I said.

“I’m not laughing at you, Cross,” she said through her giggles. “But you have to see it from my side. It’s like you’re Batman or something. They have to know if you’re available or not and the world loves reporting on it. It’s one of the most surreal things about being with you.”

“If I was Batman I’d at least have some seclusion.” I shook my head, a more serious thought tumbling over me. “My publicist is under the impression that if I don’t give them more details they’re going to come up with a story of their own. I don’t want that to affect you.”

Aspen arched brow. “Why would that affect me?”

“I’ve seen it play out a dozen times before,” I explained. “Either with athletes on my team or even my friends. The press has a way of twisting stories and photographs, or taking quotes out of context. Some can be downright hurtful. And that’s the last thing I’d want you to experience.” I wanted her to fully understand. “Hell,” I continued. “They could take an old photo and make it look like it happened yesterday. I don’t want some picture with me and one of my previous companions to pop up and make you question things.”

Aspen set down the piece of grilled cheese she’d been about to eat, her brow crinkling just slightly. “I appreciate that,” she said, but she looked at me questioningly. “But, this is still a contract between us, isn’t it?” she asked.

I swallowed around the sudden rock in my throat, trying like hell to ignore how it felt like the rug had been ripped from beneath me. Technically yes, we were still under a contract, but if the last two months had proven anything, it was that there was way more to us than some ink on paper.

I wasn’t saying I knew exactly what to do with that, but I’d been working on figuring it out ever since I first started thinking about it weeks ago.

“Yes,” I finally said. “But I think we can both admit it’s a little more complicated than that now.” Aspen nodded, and I continued. “And just because we have a professional arrangement doesn’t mean that I have no regard for your feelings. And maybe you wouldn’t be jealous or hurt or offended if the media made up a story about me or you or anything regarding us, but I just wanted to let you know now that I have no intentions of ever hurting you. If something comes out, I just asked for your trust enough to come talk to me about it before you make any conclusions on your own.”

Aspen glanced down at her plate, shifting a little bite of grilled cheese around as she nodded, the slight hint of a smile on her lips.

“I promise,” she said. “If the press prints something about you getting engaged to a prima ballerina or two, I’ll make sure I ask you about it first before I attack you in a fit of jealous rage.”

Her tone was teasing enough that I gaped at her, barely able to hide my smile as I raced around the kitchen island and scooped her into my arms.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t be jealous? Have I made such little impact on your heart that there wouldn’t even be a flicker of anger?”

She giggled, wiggling in my embrace as I shifted to drape her over my shoulder. “Not in the slightest,” she teased.

“Damn,” I said. “I guess that means I need to work a little harder.” I playfully smacked her ass as I carried her through the kitchen, down the hallway, and into my bedroom.

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t want me to be jealous or hurt?” she asked, laughing as I plopped her down onto the mattress, planting an array of kisses along her neck.

I grinned down at her as I worked it out in my head. “Technically speaking,” I said.

That got her laughing even harder, and I dipped my head down to kiss her some more before falling to my side next to her, so we were facing each other. I smoothed some of her colorful hair back, content to study the lines of that beautifully open smile.

“We could feed them a story, you know,” she said. Her hands slid casually over my chest, the intimate comfort we shared something I never experienced before. Normally if I dragged a woman into my bed, it was all teeth and clothes off and carnal sex. And while I’d had that with Aspen, this was different. This was more. And of course, I wanted her. I always wanted her. But just laying here, talking and teasing each other? It was the kind of joy I didn’t know I’d been missing.

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “And what story would you like to give them?”

“It could be anything we want,” she said. “You could tell them the truth, and it wouldn’t change anything would it?”

That felt like a dangerous question, but I answered as honestly as I could. “It would make my integrity look questionable,” I admitted. “Not only to the public and possibly my business partners that I have ventures with, but to my friends.” I already hated lying to them enough, but the longer I’d been with Aspen the less it felt like a lie.

“Oh,” Aspen said nodding. “Of course,” she continued. “That’s why you had me and Jesse sign an NDA before this all started. Because we’re in a contractual agreement to be with each other and talking about it would be a bad thing.”

Something like sadness flickered over her eyes, and I had to wonder if I’d said the wrong thing? Or did the truth mean something different to her now?

Anxiety clawed up my throat with a heavy dose of anticipation as I felt the confession of my conflicting emotions dancing on the tip of my tongue. Maybe I should just tell her, maybe I should just tell her what I wanted. Which was...

What was it that I really wanted from her? Beyond her not going anywhere, I really didn’t have a solid answer, and I didn’t really feel like that was fair to her.

“Aspen,” I said taking a breath.

“Do you ever get tired?” she asked, the question completely throwing me off guard. “I feel like you do, Cross. I know I’ve only been in your life for a couple of months, but watching you constantly work on so many different facets of your life, not just business or your hockey team but with everything. I feel like you never sit still, and with the media and the press and the constant access to your life, don’t you get tired?”

I nodded, my heart aching in the center of my chest. “I do,” I answered. “Remember when you asked me about what I really wanted that had nothing to do with growing the empire?”

She nodded, never taking her eyes off mine.

“I told you I’d get back to you when I figured it out. And I think I have. I’m tired of spending my time bouncing from Calgary to New York and back again and everything in between. I’m tired of paparazzi constantly waiting outside my apartment hoping for a picture of me in some precarious position or with poor company. I’m tired of being hounded by the need to continue to expand and expand until I don’t even know what I have my hands in anymore.”

Aspen smoothed her hand comfortingly over my cheek before gently massaging my temple.

“Bristol is taken care of and living out her happily ever after with her husband. She doesn’t need me anymore. And I can see my friends whenever I want. And lately I’ve been considering selling off half of my assets and moving to some small town like Cedar Rapids, Iowa, or Sedona, Arizona. Somewhere paparazzi aren’t as prevalent, and the pace of life is a little slower.”

Aspen’s grin was breathtaking. “You could wear jeans more often,” she said, then her eyes brightened. “No, sweatpants. You could wear sweatpants all the time.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, kitten?” I asked, grinning at her. “Unrestricted access to me.”

“Won’t try to deny that,” she said, then sighed. “I’ve always pictured myself in a smaller place too. Somewhere with a bookshop that serves coffee and signature cocktails in a small town where everybody finds comfort in hanging out. Now that Brecken is doing so well on her own, the possibility seems closer than ever.”

Especially with the end of our contract coming up and her large payday that she was about to get. Her sister would be set up and she would have the means to do whatever she wanted. And I could only hope that included something to do with me. I needed to tell her that, but I was terrified.

“I can see us there,” I said, making my words playful and my face to match. It was easier for me to hide behind the mischief and the games and the jokes than it was to be real. Because in reality, I had no idea how to navigate what I was feeling, and I hated the fact that I felt like I was going to fuck it up any second.

“Really?” she asked. “You think we’d be suited for small-town life?”

“Absolutely,” I answered. “I could help you in your bookstore, and you could teach me how to make lattes. Maybe we could even sell boba, even if it’s just for me to enjoy it every day.”

Aspen laughed, resuming her stroking. “I didn’t mean to get you hooked on those,” she said. “But they are quite addictive.”

“I love it,” I said, my eyes trailing over the curves of her face. “We could live in a loft over the coffee shop, our place constantly smelling like roasted coffee beans and freshly bound books.”

“Now that’s one hell of a dream,” she said, a little bit of seriousness coming back into her eyes. “But if I’ve learned anything from life, it’s that it delights in laughing at you while you make plans.”

“You think it’s easier to not make plans?”

“I don’t know if it’s easier, but for me the only the plans I’ve ever been able to make are the goals I need to hit in order to help Brecken be okay.”

“And you’ve done that,” I said. “She’s thriving, and she will continue to. So when are you going to start thinking about yourself?”

She laughed roughly, then shrugged. “I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

I slid my hand over her cheek, and she leaned into the touch. From the time I’d known her, she was selfless. Taking care of herself was one of the hardest things she’d ever have to learn how to do.

I’d been lucky to help her these past couple of months, ensuring that she put herself first on occasion. Hopefully over time she’d get better at it and realize that she could better take care of other people if she took care of herself first.

Over time.

I just hoped she’d give me the time I needed to figure out a way to make these dreams we teased each other about became our reality.