Chapter Fifteen
Reagan
I had no idea what I was doing.
I was secure enough in myself to admit that. If anything, I was proud to admit that I was a terrible criminal, an abysmal creep. I never wanted to be someone who got too good at such things. That wasn't how I was raised. That wasn't who I aspired to be.
But I had my reasons.
Of course I did.
And keeping them secret was pretty imperative if I wanted to accomplish my end result. To me, there was no if. I had to do it. I had to keep following Michael until I got what I needed. If that took months or years, I didn't care. It would be worth it in the end.
Maybe it would help stem the flow of misery from this gaping hole in my chest.
Maybe it would give me some peace.
Until then, though, I wasn't going to stop.
I didn't care if Michael employed all of these Rivers brothers. And if each and every one of them was just as hot as Nixon was.
"You're distracted, Krissy informed me, sprawled over my guest chair in her sex-kitten sundress.
That was the only way to describe it. Because it was modest. The design was nearly floor-length with sleeves and a button-up front that completely covered cleavage and scalloped daintily over her breasts.
The pattern was a simple black background with little pink flowers.
On anyone else in the world, it would look like something you'd wear to church on Sunday.
On Krissy, though, it looked like liquid sex pouring over her envious curves.
"Yeah," I agreed, sighing, standing up, moving over toward my sideboard set up under the windows. I stood looking out over the wildflowers for a moment as I reached for one of the plump peaches situated in the bowl, placing it on the cutting board, then cutting it into slices.
Peaches were my snack food. My vice, if you will. I made Krissy or one of the others run to Costco several times a month to get the giant packs of them to fill up the bowl on my desk.
It was a comfort food of sorts. Each bite reminded me of my childhood, of running through the orchard with my siblings, light carefree, skin sun-warmed, hearts bursting, just full of joy and love.
We would reach above our heads, pulling down fat, warm peaches, biting into them, feeling the sweet juices run down our faces, filling our bellies even though our mother had warned us not to spoil our dinner.
Those were simpler times. Happier times. And my little addiction never failed to bring me back there for a few short, blissful moments, chasing away the sadness of the present moment.
"Is it hottie advertisement guy?" she asked as I turned.
"What?"
"Oh, Mr. Tall Dark and Moody. Don't try to pretend you forgot," she told me, rolling her eyes. Krissy never forgot a good-looking man. "I know you were picturing him bending you over that desk, peeling down your pants and panties..."
“Work pants, Krissy. You need to put on your work pants." It was useless to remind her. Krissy was Krissy—outspoken, sexual, a complete open book. It was something I genuinely loved about her as a friend. So long as, you know, she was talking about her own sex life. Not mine. Or the lack thereof.
As usual, she completely ignored me as she picked up a chunk of her hair, folding it upward, inspecting the ends for splits. Finding one, she twirled it around a finger and snapped off the end.
"I mean.. how long has it been Rae? It has to be a year by now. That's just not healthy."
"Not all of us have the sex drive of a thirteen-year-old boy," I reminded her.
I deliberately left off the fact that sex dreams had me tossing and turning and waking up to sweat-dampened sheets for more than a couple of nights.
And that the man starring in my unconscious erotic movies was none other than the broody, blunt, stupidly good-looking Nixon Rivers.
The things that man did with his mouth...
"Oh, you have a sex drive. It is just hiding away. I really thought that yummy thing was going to make it come out and play."
"You will have to live with your disappointment."
"Admit he's hot."
"He's hot." There was no reason to deny that. And no way to do so even somewhat believably. "He's not really my type though."
"Oh, yes. You like the nice guys," Krissy said, rolling her eyes.
"Pray tell, Reagan, which one of those nice guys cheated on you and stole your graduation necklace?
And wasn't it a complete other who had you pay for two semesters of his college then promptly dumped you as soon as he graduated?
Nice guys are never that nice underneath it all.
Now, the assholes, that is a different story.
There is always a lot of mush underneath all that barbed wire.
Mr. Advertisement Guy would be like that, mark my words.
Plus, I'm pretty sure he'd fuck you seven ways to Sunday. "
"You don't mix work and pleasure, Krissy. It's bad form."
"Oh, no, honey. That is one fine form he's got on him. But, fine, suit yourself," she said, shrugging a shoulder. "I am just here to remind you that it is not healthy."
"What's not healthy?" another voice asked from the doorway.
"Not getting a solid dicking from the hot guy who was in her office the other day."
"I have to say, Rae, I think I am on Krissy's team here," Luis, my brother, said. He was adopted like me, but clearly from other parents as I was Chinese, and he was Mexican.
He was, without a doubt, the most attractive guy in any given room with his six-foot-two, solid, but not bulky build, chocolate brown hair that matched his eyes that could only be described as sultry.
Mix the looks with his intelligence, his lightheartedness, and his big heart, yeah, he was a prize. One no one had snatched up just yet.
"Such a surprise," I drawled. "You big slut, you," I added, walking over to him, throwing my arms around him, sinking into him when his arms went around me, lifting me off my feet for a long moment. "I didn't know you were coming into town," I said when he dropped me down and released me.
"Neither did I. I realized I had a day between planes, and I thought I would stop in to see my big sister." We were actually the same age, but I had been adopted as a baby, and he as a three-year-old when my parents brought him home. I wasn't sure I had a single childhood memory without Luis in it.
"Where are you off to next?"
"Australia. We are doing a shoot for charity."
Luis could have been anything in the world. He had a bachelor's degree. He could have started a business with his trust fund.
But my brother, well, he liked admiration. And he was stupidly beautiful. So he went ahead and got himself a career as a model.
"I'll have to hang up my hat in a couple years.
I can start a business then. Become a silver fox.
Land me some sweet honey. Live out the good life.
But for now, I like this. That was what he said when my parents had questioned his path in life that they viewed as shallow and a waste of his many talents.
Me, well, I figured that we should all be doing what made us happy. Running Devil Tears made me happy, reinventing it, making it a modern brand. But Luis was happy when people looked at him. To each their own.
Besides, I had a feeling that when he retired from the modeling world, he was going to shock the hell out of people, and take the business world by storm.
That was just the kind of person he was. If you took him at face value, he could appear self-indulgent, shallow, and lacking any direction. If you were around him for long enough, though, you knew there were depths there deep enough to drown in.
"Krissy," he greeted, giving her a wink. "You could give a priest a hard-on in that dress."
"That sounds like a fun challenge. You look tanner than usual," she said, pressing her bare foot against his stomach, poking in with her toe.
"Spent a lot of time on a white sand beach, mami," he said, reaching for her foot, taking it in his hands, rolling his thumb over her arch, making her back arch off the chair like a cat. "Not as beautiful as you though, of course."
"Of course," Krissy agreed, closing her eyes, in a place of bliss.
There was nothing between my brother and my best friend. They'd always been like this together. I think the Universe knew better than to put two shameless flirts together. There would be wreckage in the wake.
"Did you want to go get dinner together?" I asked.
"Yes," they said in unison.
"That way, we can gang up on her about her getting on the hot advertising guy," Krissy told Luis.
"Sounds like a worthy mission."
"She needs some stress relief."
"I concur," Luis shot back.
"Are you two done?" I asked, moving back behind my desk, dropping down into my chair.
"Not nearly," Krissy assured me. "You should have seen him, Luis. He was a drink of water. And we both know Reagan has been dying for a sip."
"Where do you guys learn to talk like that?" I asked, brows lowering, lips parting.
"What about you, mami, did you want a sip?"
"Oh, you know me. I'm always thirsty," she told him, the two of them sharing unnerving eye-contact. It was making me uncomfortable, and I wasn't even a part of it.
"How thirsty are you, mami?" he asked, pressing his thumb in hard, making a whimper escape her.
"Um... should I leave?” I asked, feeling like this was more intense than usual.
Then, just like that, Luis casually let go of Krissy's foot, and she hung it back over the chair, both of them turning back to me with amused smiles, all the sexual tension gone.
How they both managed to turn it on and off like that was beyond me.
Then again, mine hadn't been turned on in a woefully long time. So I was clearly no expert in the situation.
"So, what are we having? Sushi?" Luis asked. "My treat."
"We can get sake drunk and have a sleepover," Krissy joined in on his plan.
"Sounds like what I need," I admitted, even if I was inwardly wondering what it might mean if I missed a night.