Chapter 1
ONE
Three Months Later
Ridge
O ut of all the places I’d expected to end up tonight, a strip club wasn’t one of them. Shit, I wasn’t complaining. Spending an evening looking at naked women wasn’t exactly a bad time in my book. Especially when the ladies left the stage and pranced topless around the lounge, where all the patrons, including myself, were sitting. That gave me an up-close-and-personal look at their bodies. Asses that were covered by only a thin, usually sparkly thong. Nipples so hard that it was as though they’d been rubbed with ice. Eyes that taunted as they locked with mine and skin so heavily perfumed that their scents lingered long after they passed me.
I wasn’t a virgin when it came to strip clubs. I’d visited my fair share over the years, so I knew that inside these walls was nothing more than a fantasy. The strippers were saleswomen. The nods and smiles and words exchanged were all selling tactics.
The only real thing that came out of a place like this was a fucking hard-on.
That was why, earlier tonight, when the thirty or so of us had packed into a party bus, celebrating Brady Spade and Lily Roy’s joint bachelor and bachelorette party, and Brady announced this was our next stop, I hadn’t been excited. Brady was one of the executives at Cole and Spade Hotels, our company, and the last of the Spades to settle down—something I’d never, in my lifetime, thought would happen with a reputation like his.
But he’d proven everyone wrong—and by everyone, I meant all of California and probably half of the West Coast.
Rhett looked about as amused as me, so I rested my arm across his shoulders and said, “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d rather be at a club right now.”
“That sounds as insufferable as this,” he replied.
I wasn’t surprised by my brother’s answer. The last three months had been tough on all of us. As the leader, I encouraged my siblings to keep living, to keep enjoying—that was what Dad would have wanted. What would make him roll over in his grave was if we stopped living because of his death.
Rowan was trying her best. She didn’t like to leave Rayner, but since it was a joint party and her boyfriend, Cooper, was Brady’s brother, she was here. She was smiling. Drinking. There was a look of happiness on her face as she mingled with the girlfriends of the Spade brothers and the Daltons, their best friends.
But that wasn’t the way Rhett looked at all, slumped in the chair next to mine. His expression told me he was going to hit something. Not just punch it. He wanted to pulverize it.
“You all right, brother? I know the last few months?—”
“Don’t talk to me about the last few months. Not here.” His expression turned grim. “Not now.”
“I hear you. My bad.” I squeezed the spot I was holding. “But is that what’s bothering you? Dad?”
He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together as though he was getting ready to lock them into a fist. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Why?”
I wasn’t sure who was about to roar the loudest, Rhett or the lion tattooed on his thumb.
“You know why.” His teeth ground together.
I circled back to our father as the reason he was acting this way. Work could be another cause. My brother had been putting in some serious hours lately, and maybe he was feeling guilty that he’d taken the whole weekend off.
Or, hell, maybe it was something else.
“How about you help me out and just tell me the reason, so I don’t have to keep racking my brain?—”
“The date, Ridge.” His head shook in a way that told me he was disappointed. “What’s the fucking date?”
The date.
The date.
And then, like a bolt of goddamn lightning across the back of the head, it hit me.
Fuck.
I gave him a solid squeeze, rubbing his muscle back and forth.
How could I have forgotten?
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked him.
“No.”
His answer didn’t shock me in the least bit. Rhett never wanted to talk about anything. He kept it all buried in the furthest, deepest part of him until he exploded. Those explosions always looked different, but in this case, I wouldn’t be surprised if he disappeared for a few days.
Still, I pushed and said, “Are you sure?”
He swished out some air. “Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” He stood. “I need another drink.”
I wasn’t positive if that was code for something else, like he was calling a rideshare to get out of here, so I asked, “Are you going to take off?”
“If I do, don’t come looking for me.” He disappeared toward the bar.
Damn it. One sibling was keeping it together while the other was falling apart.
I tried not to think about Rhett while I turned toward the crew. The couples all seemed to be having a blast, the women far more engaged with the strippers than their men. The only singles part of the gang, aside from Rhett and me, were the Westons. A family of five siblings—four men and a woman—who owned high-end restaurants and clubs across the world, many of those located in our hotels. Although Eden couldn’t attend—she was away on business—the four brothers were here. Since the merger, I’d gotten the opportunity to work with them, even hang out outside of normal business hours, and I would consider them friends.
Which was why I knew things were about to get rowdy.
If there was one thing this group did well together—the Coles, Spades, Daltons, and Westons—it was having a good time.
And it seemed like everyone was.
That was all the more reason to shake Rhett out of my head and focus on the party. Especially considering this was my first time out in a while. Daisy’s mother was back in town after a long stint on the road, and she had Daisy for the next week. Knowing my daughter was safe and in good hands gave me a chance to let loose and unwind. I wanted nothing more than to laugh my ass off, catch a buzz, and go for a long run in the morning to sweat out all the excess booze.
But before this night was over, I needed to make sure I had enough material to razz up the guys during our next executive meeting. After a night of debauchery, I fucking loved rousing the fellas on all the shenanigans that had gone down.
One way to ensure that was more alcohol.
There wasn’t a waitress anywhere near our tables, nor was there any walking around the VIP area. So, I turned around to scan the other side of the lounge, looking for someone capable of taking an order of shots, and that was when I saw her.
A woman so fucking beautiful that my eyes wouldn’t leave her.
Even if there was a reason to drag my stare away, I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
She was that breathtaking.
That gorgeous.
That enticing.
I pushed myself to the end of my seat, knowing I was about to get up at any second because I needed to talk to hear her voice. I needed to talk to her. I needed to be closer to her than I was now.
That was how drawn I was to her.
And while I stayed here, somewhat frozen, I took in the details I’d missed when my eyes first landed on her. I certainly couldn’t have ignored her red hair. That was what had initially mesmerized me. But the more I looked at the long waves, strands that hung down her back and over her shoulders and hugged the sides of her face, I realized it wasn’t just a deep auburn. The color reminded me of a burnt fall sunset.
Her face was a combination of soft features that even individually screamed of a level of beauty I’d never seen before. Lips that were plump and glossy. A small button-like nose. Smooth, sun-kissed skin. Eyes that I couldn’t see the color of from here, but I could feel how alluring they were.
And then there was her body.
A chest that was the perfect size for her petite frame, hips and a waist that dipped in just right, and an ass with the amount of thickness I desired.
She didn’t run in a straight line from head to toe.
She had curves.
Curves I wanted to fucking devour.
There had been a dullness in my chest when I walked into this strip club tonight.
Now, I was on fire.
And there was no way I could let another second pass without buying her a drink.
“Going to grab a cocktail?” Beck Weston asked as I stood, his chair directly next to mine. “Do you mind grabbing one for me too?” The NHL star was loving his offseason life, freeing up his time to attend things like this.
“I’m not headed to the bar.”
He chuckled. “Where else would you be going? The restroom?”
I nodded toward the redhead, watching Beck’s stare land on her.
“Enough said.” He pounded my fist. “Go get her, my man.”
I took off before anyone else could distract me and delay me even more, and I walked out of the VIP area and into the general lounge, stopping at the base of the stage where she was standing.
Now that I was nearer, I could fill in all the blanks, like the color of her eyes, which was the lightest brown. A dusting of freckles that ran down the middle of her nose. Skin that wasn’t just smooth, but silky and creamy. Thighs that had the faintest definition of muscle.
And, goddamn it , nipples that were the lightest pink.
I didn’t care that she was standing on a stage with only a thong covering her. I sure as hell didn’t care that she was a stripper. Nor did I care that every fucking man in this room had his eyes on her.
What I cared about was that as soon as she stepped onto the floor, I grasped every bit of her attention.
Despite this being an imaginary playhouse, I was about to find the authenticity in this room.
And I was going to show her that in me.
Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. The song was ending, and she was making her way to the steps, holding her bra and the cash she’d collected from the stage. A bouncer helped her down the short staircase where I waited for her.
As he moved away, helping the next stripper onto the stage, I said, “Hi,” just loud enough that she could hear me over the music.
Her smile tugged from the side and lifted. “Hi.”
“You were incredible up there.”
She knew how to shake her body, how to use the pole, how to squat with her legs spread wide while her hair whipped across her face.
“Thank you.”
I kept my eyes fixed on hers, not allowing them to dip even though I wanted them to. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She slipped her arms through her bra straps, wrapping the lace around her tits before she clasped the hook behind her back. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I was watching you from the VIP lounge and hauled my ass over here to talk to you.”
“Aren’t you charming?” She batted what I assumed were fake lashes, considering how long they were. “There’s a stage in there too. Was the dancer not entertaining enough?”
My hands were at my sides, but I wanted them on her waist, so I could feel just how velvety her skin was. And while I was there, I wanted to wrap her legs around me and carry her somewhere quiet. “She’s not you.”
She laughed, showing teeth that were white and beautifully straight. “I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“Say you’ll have a drink with me.”
“You’re cute—you know that?”
“Follow me,” I instructed.
She stayed planted. “I think you’re forgetting where we are.”
“I know exactly where we are.”
She combined all her hair and laid it over one shoulder. “Then, you know I can’t join you. It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just not allowed. If I’m not up there”—she pointed behind her at the stage—“then my job is to roam the room until I book a private dance.”
“What does that entail?”
“The private dances?” When I nodded, she continued, “You’ve never had one?”
I chuckled at the way she was looking at me. “Why does that surprise you? You know nothing about me …” I gave her a wink.
“I just assume most people who come here are knowledgeable about the services that are offered. If I’m being honest, I’m glad a guy as handsome as you isn’t a regular here.”
She thought I was handsome.
Finally, I felt like I was getting somewhere.
“Because?” I questioned.
“Regulars can be a little creepy … if you know what I mean.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Trust me, I’m not that.”
She laughed again as she shifted her weight, the sky-high heels bringing the top of her head to my throat.
“I don’t mean any disrespect when I say this, but I don’t make it a habit to come here.” I kept my voice gentle. “My friends and I are celebrating a bachelor and bachelorette party and ended up here.”
Her brows rose. “Is it your bachelor party?”
An appropriate question.
I whistled out a mouthful of air. “Fuck no.”
It seemed my answer registered through her before she nodded toward the VIP area. “Back there, there are private rooms. You can rent them for a dance, two dances, three dances—however many you want.”
The more I spoke to her, the more I realized there was no way I could have left here without talking to her.
I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.
Because looking at her from where I’d been sitting with the group wasn’t nearly enough.
Neither was this conversation.
Whoever she was, however her story unraveled—I wanted to know both.
“I’d like to rent a private room for the entire night.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“If that’s the only way I’ll get to spend time with you, then yes. Take me there.”
The shock was evident on her face. “I think there are some logistical things we have to work out first.”
I reached into my pocket, took out my wallet, and grabbed the wad of cash from inside. I didn’t need to count it; I knew just how much was there, and I placed it in her hand. “That should more than cover it.”
She slowly glanced down at the stack. Her chest rising and falling several times. “You’re giving all of this to me?”
“Pay the house or whatever you have to do to cover your bases. The rest is for you.”
Her head shook, giving me the impression she didn’t want to take it.
That gesture, that modesty, made me want her even more.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I almost laughed.
A greedy person would take the money and immediately lead me toward the private rooms. She wasn’t greedy at all. And something told me the redhead was a lot different from most of the people in this establishment.
“I’m positive,” I told her.
She nodded. “Okay. Come with me.”
I followed her through the main lounge and past the VIP section, where she stopped at a window. I kept my distance, giving her the privacy she needed while she spoke to the cashier. She counted out an amount I could vaguely see and palmed the rest. When she made eye contact with me, waving me forward, I moved in beside her, and we entered a small room.
With the walls, ceiling, and floor all black, it was difficult to see with just a single dim spotlight above. But it gave off enough of a glow that her skin sparkled and the whites of her eyes and teeth really stood out.
“Why don’t you sit here?” She stood at the side of an armless chair.
There were two in the room, and they were identical, placed a few feet apart.
As I got comfortable in the seat, she made her way to the front of me and put her hands on my shoulders.
The stage, where I’d met her, had been too congested with scents, so I couldn’t detect hers. But now that she was in this position, I knew why I hadn’t been able to smell her. Her perfume was too light. But in here, the subtleness of her vanilla-latte aroma was just right.
“Just so you know, there are cameras in here.” The ends of her hair dangled in my face. “My manager can see everything we’re doing.”
A warning I didn’t need.
“Are you saying that for your protection?”
She stilled. “I would say that to anyone I brought in here.”
“I realize you really don’t know me, but I didn’t bring you in here to touch you or do something that would cause your manager to be alarmed.”
“Why did you bring me in here, then?” She spoke so quietly.
“Let me clarify something first because I don’t want to be misleading.” I rubbed my hands together before I set them on my legs. “Touching a body like yours would be a fucking dream, and I’d love nothing more, but that’s not my motive. I want to get to know you. That’s why I wanted to buy you a drink, and that’s why we’re in here.”
She said nothing.
“What’s your name?” I was met with more silence. “I’m Ridge.”
I could feel the hesitation before she voiced, “Addy.”
“Addy”—I lifted her hands off my shoulders and escorted her to the other chair—“why don’t you sit? That’ll make it easier to talk.”
“You’re sure you don’t want a dance?”
If we were anywhere else, this would have gone so differently.
I wouldn’t know that her fucking nipples were the lightest shade of pink. I wouldn’t know that she had a patch of freckles, like her nose, that ran up one of her ass cheeks. And I wouldn’t have to move her to the chair next to mine since the chances of her straddling me right away would be slim.
“We’re just talking, remember?” I waited until she sat. “I’m one of the good guys. I know you don’t believe that, but you will before the night is through.”
“How good?”
I chuckled. “Fuck, you must meet some real assholes in here if you have to ask that question.”
She turned the chair to face me and moved it closer, her knees briefly rubbing against mine as she crossed her legs. “I don’t know if I should admit this or not, but this is only my third shift and my very first time bringing a guest in here. So, to answer your question, I’m sure there are lots of assholes, but I’m not seasoned enough to know just how spicy they can get.”
For some reason, I really liked hearing that she was new and inexperienced.
“Third day on the job and your first private booking. Is it safe to assume you weren’t a stripper before you took the job here?”
She let out a burst of air that sounded like it came from her nose. “No.”
“New profession, then.”
Her head dropped. “New and very temporary.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Her eyes lifted. “You’ve already seen my boobs, Ridge. I think we’re past personal, don’t you?”
I laughed. “This question digs in a bit.”
She shrugged. “Try me.”
“What makes one decide to strip?” My hand went in the air. “I’m not knocking the profession—I want to make that clear. I’m just curious what made you choose this path.”
“Ah, that.” She sighed. “It’s a very good question. I think everyone in here probably has a different reason.” She glanced toward the door, which was closed, her arms appearing to tighten around her. “I’m not even going to lie. I almost chickened out before my first shift, wondering if I would survive and trying to come up with another option. But I figure I can do it for a couple of months—or however long it takes—and be done. It won’t be the hardest thing I ever overcome in my life—that’s for sure.”
“If it’s any consolation, you happen to be really good at it.”
“Oh, Ridge,” she exhaled, “I don’t know if I should laugh or cry from that statement.”
“Laugh. Always laugh.” I winked at her.
Her head shook. “I picked the wrong profession. My parents had warned me when I declared a major, and I didn’t listen. I went with my heart instead of my bank account. Wrong move, I guess.”
“And which profession is that?”
She smiled. “One that pays like shit.”
She wasn’t ready to open up. I could understand that.
The environment, I was sure, had something to do with it.
“Or maybe I should say, it’s a profession that doesn’t pay as well as this,” she clarified.
“Listen, there’s no shame in hustling. We all have to do it at some point or another, and that hustle looks different for everyone.” I was tempted to take out my phone and show her a picture of Daisy, but I kept it planted in my pocket. “I’ve got a little girl. I can tell you right now, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to provide for her. She’s my priority. She’s the reason I work as hard as I do.”
“How old?”
“She’s six, going on twenty-five. Smart as a whip. Hell of a lot smarter than me.”
She nodded, grinning. “And her mom?”
My head tilted as I took in Addy’s stunning face. “If her mom were in the picture, I wouldn’t be in this room right now. Remember … I’m one of the good ones.”
Her smile stayed wide.
“I want to go back for a second.” Because it was a question she’d danced around. “I told you my daughter is my reason and she’s what motivates me. What’s your reason?”
Whatever her answer was, was her breaking point. And I knew, without even hearing it, that it would teach me so much about who she was and what her life looked like.
One thing I knew for certain: this job wasn’t for the weak. It took serious balls to walk in that door and accept a position that came with the requirements she faced.
So, whatever drove her, it made her one unique woman.
She leaned forward, resting her arms on her thighs. “You really want to know me, don’t you?”
“You could say I’m interested.”
“In what?”
“You.” I cleared my throat. “All of you.”
She released a small noise that didn’t sound like a sigh or a moan. “Ridge …”
“You’re not asking me why I’m interested. Or how I’m interested. Or when I became interested.”
“I don’t have to—because we’re in a private room of a strip club and you saw my moves on the stage, courtesy of high school and college cheerleading, and thought to yourself, She’d be a good lay .” She chewed her lip. “Am I right?”
“Addy, you’re not giving yourself nearly enough credit.” I paused. “Were your moves noticed? Sure, they were. Was your body appreciated? Fuck yes. But I would have appreciated your body if we’d been in a bar, and you were in jeans and a T-shirt, and my imagination was filling in the blanks. Being in here and what you’re wearing”—I nodded toward her—“have nothing to do with my opinion. I would have reacted the same way regardless of where we’d met.” I crossed my legs. “I could have paid you for a dance in the VIP room. I could have let you dance topless on top of me when we came in here. I told you, that’s not what I want or what I’m looking for.”
“Tell me, then, Ridge, why are you interested?”