Chapter Sixteen
TREY
The first light of morning breaks through the living room windows, and for the first time in fifteen years, I slept through the night on the couch.
Vivi is still asleep, her head resting on me like an angel. We put our clothes back on after our second round because once wasn't going to be enough for either of us.
I stare down at her, not knowing what any of this means for her but knowing that I'm still not a whole man who can offer her what she deserves.
I'm still broken and bruised, but I'm also selfish, and being with her for as long as she'll let me is something I can't walk away from if she offers it. Even if it's only the next four weeks.
Vivi's eyes begin to flutter open, and then those golden amber eyes are back on mine. "Good morning," she says.
"Yes, it is."
"You're still here on the couch. I figured you would have taken off for your run by now."
"Yeah, me too. I've never slept in this late in… I can't even remember how long."
She smiles up at me, and we both know what kept me on this couch all night—her.
"What do you have going on today?" she asks.
"Breakfast with my girls and then the gym with the guys," I tell her.
"Sounds good.” She smiles, wiggling back into the side of my arm.
And I love that she's not pulling away.
I bend down and kiss her. Her hand reaches for my cheek and then curls around the back of my neck, pulling me tighter against her.
"Uncle Trey?" Adeline's voice carries down the stairs.
We spring apart like teenagers caught by parents. Vivi nearly falls off the couch, with a thud and then an "ouch" trying to yank the blanket we're both stuck in off of her.
"Here. I'm down here," I call back, jumping off the couch and trying to straighten up the cushions, but Adeline is quicker than I thought, and she's already heading down the hallway.
Thank God we dressed last night.
"Oh, you're both down here already," Adeline says, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
Vivi snorts. “Good morning, Adeline,” she says, then disappears down the hall, grabbing her overnight bag and hightailing it upstairs. I hear the moment she closes my bedroom door behind her.
She looks around suspiciously. "Is that Vivi's phone?"
Shit. "She must have left it last night after putting you to bed."
"Uh-huh." She crosses her arms, looking so much like Sarah it hurts. "And is that her sweater on the floor too?"
Double shit.
"Go brush your teeth, squirt. I'll start breakfast."
She rolls her eyes but heads back upstairs. "Whatever you say, Uncle Trey."
I hear the shower upstairs. Vivi is washing away the evidence of our night together. Like it never happened. Like in a month, she won't be walking down the aisle toward someone else.
My phone buzzes—a text from Slade.
Slade: Still on for the gym this morning?
Reality crashes back in. I have the guys to meet up with. Games. Playoffs are coming up. A nine-year-old to raise. I can't afford distractions, no matter how beautiful they are or how right they feel in my arms.
But as I hear Vivi humming in the shower, I know that no matter how much I convince myself I'm capable of staying away from her, especially now that I know what she tastes like, the more I know…I'm a damn liar.
VIVI
The hot water cascades over my shoulders, but I can still feel Trey's hands there. His mouth. His everything. My body aches in the best way—tender nipples from his talented tongue, the sensuality between my thighs where he took me.
I trace the light bruise on my hip where he gripped me, pulling me harder against him as he thrust up into me. The memory alone makes the heat pool low in my belly all over again.
God, I'm in trouble.
Because it wasn't just sex. It was the way he held me after. How safe I felt falling asleep in his arms.
"Get it together," I mutter, reaching for my shampoo.
But I can't. Because now I know what it's like to have him. To be his. To feel him come apart inside me while whispering my name like a prayer.
A knock at the bathroom door makes me jump.
"Vivi?" Adeline calls. "Can you help me with my hair before school? Uncle Trey's terrible at braids."
"Sure, honey. Give me five minutes."
I rinse quickly, trying to look like I didn't just have mind-blowing sex with her uncle on the living room couch. When I emerge in my robe, she's waiting with her brush and hair ties.
"So…" she starts as I begin sectioning her hair. "Did you and Uncle Trey kiss or something last night?"
I nearly drop the brush. "What?"
She catches my eye in the mirror. "Uncle Trey's smiling. He never smiles this early."
"I…um…" How do you explain this to a nine-year-old?
"I told you that you two are perfect together." She shrugs. "I think you two should just get married already, and then you could live here with us all the time. Plus, I think he sleeps better when you're here."
My hands freeze mid-braid. "What do you mean?"
"He doesn't like me to know, but I've caught him sleeping on the floor in the living room before when I had a nightmare and came down to find him.
He doesn't sleep in his bed or on the couch.
He goes for a run and a shower before I even get up usually, but this morning he was still lying on the couch with you.
" She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve.
"Dad used to say he has trouble sleeping because of the war stuff. "
My heart squeezes. Not only because she wants the best for her uncle, but because of the fact that he sleeps on the floor and he spent the entire night asleep with me on the couch. I shouldn't read into it even though it's hard not to. What does it change though?
And of course, she notices these things. She's more perceptive than any of us gives her credit for. Was this what Trey was worried would happen if he and I got too close in the house where Adeline might see it?
"Your uncle is tough, and the sleep thing is probably just his usual routine. I wouldn't worry about it, okay? I know he wouldn't want you to."
She nods.
"There,” I say, as I finish her braid. "All set."
"Thanks." She hugs me quickly. "Don't forget we have ballet today."
Right. Ballet. Normal life. Not whatever fantasy world that Trey and I had last night. I need to shake it off and get back to work.
Upstairs, I find clothes I'd packed for today and get dressed quickly. My phone has three missed calls from Virginia and a text from Isla about meeting the girls at Serendipity's later.
I call Virginia on her private cell.
"Oh thank God you answered," she says after one ring, in a hushed tone.
"Why, what's going on? And where are you?"
"I'm in the ladies’ room," she says, her whisper echoing. "It's the only place Martin can't follow me."
"Martin? Follow you? What the hell is going on over there?" I ask, concerned for Virginia having to hide in the bathroom to talk to me.
"Nothing like that, only, I think he knows that half the staff doesn't like him, and the other half is just better at lying.
The thing is, I just can't stand by anymore and watch him ruin everything.
He changed the water dispenser order from spring water to distilled, the coffee maker is gone because he said the afternoon crash is killing productivity, and he dismantled the party planning committee because he said we spend too much money.
I think he's just jealous because we won't let him in on it. "
I head down the stairs, and I hear Trey and Adeline chatting in the kitchen.
Trey's making breakfast—shirtless, because apparently the universe hates me. The muscles in his back flex as he flips pancakes, and all I can think about is how those muscles felt under my hands last night. Then I remember that I'm on the phone with Virginia.
"Right, okay. It sounds like he's trying to penny-pinch a little bit. It's not what you're all used to, but it's temporary," I tell her, hoping to make her feel better.
Trey turns when he hears my voice, and then he sees that I'm on the phone. "Coffee's ready," he says gently to not interrupt.
I nod and smile.
I pour a cup, trying not to stare at the tattoos etched up both arms, across his shoulders that I've seen peeking above his T-shirts. I had never considered tattoos particularly sexy before, but with Trey, I want to personally take my time to lick each one. "Thanks," I say back.
I hear Virginia blow out a breath. "I know, but it's just that. That's why I'm calling. It's gotten worse—way worse."
"How much worse could it get?" I ask.
"Mrs. Vanderbeaker called for a fill-in additional nanny for her annual Fourth of July party. She wanted an extra for the entire three days of the party plus an extra pastry chef and head chef for the entire weekend."
Mrs. Vanderbeaker is one of those pain in the ass clients that asks for the extra mile, which is never convenient, but she has four separate homes around the country, and we fully staff each one with butlers, housekeeping, a nanny, and two chefs for whenever she wants to travel back and forth.
Not to mention the three assistants we staff her with who travel with her wherever she goes.
She pays us a lot, and I try to always accommodate her. Plus, she treats my staff well and tips them well. They are always happy to get more hours with her when they can.
"This is typical for one of our premier clients. Mrs. Vanderbeaker asks for this every year for the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I'm not sure what the issue could be," I say.
"He told her no," she says flatly.
And that's when I just about lose my mind. I knew that putting the CFO in my shoes was the wrong idea. He cares more about the bottom line than understanding the actual nuts and bolts of how we've become the leading staff agency for our niche in the state.
"What do you mean he told her no? Mrs. Vanderbeaker is responsible for at least ten percent of our premier clients. We've always made her happy because she brings us a lot of revenue."