Chapter 3
THREE
Hartford
“How’s the article going?” Delia asks, the next day at work. If she weren’t so gossipy, I’d tell her all about Paxton offering to help, but I don’t trust Delia to keep it to herself.
“It’s going swimmingly,” I sing-song. I never use the word swimmingly. I heard it in a movie once and liked the ring of it.
Delia raises a brow. “You should go to Club Greed in Saint Pierce. I know they do a lot of kinky shit there.”
I give her a pointed stare. “You know because you’ve been?”
She rolls her eyes. “I wish. I just suspect a ton of kinkiness goes on there.”
“You have to be a billionaire to even step foot on the property.” I shrug. It’s a great idea, but not one I could ever afford.
“Doesn’t Paxton sell beer to them?”
She’s right. Paxton is a beer representative for Club Greed.
I think about what Paxton offered the other night. Could I really have him help me with BDSM?
I rush to my desk and open my computer. I start out with a simple search and read about safe words, which is an important aspect of BDSM play.
Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about being in a position where I have to use a pre-agreed upon word or signal to communicate discomfort or the need to stop during a scene. But I’ll have to trust the process.
There are a billionty articles about negotiation and consent which emphasize mutual respect and boundaries. It occurs to me as I take notes on different fetishes and kinks that not only will I never be into dungeon play or foot worship, but I can’t do this alone.
It’s not like I can tie myself up and spank myself. Nor will I be able to explore any of this with a stranger. Trust is of the utmost importance and there is no one I would trust to paddle me or respect my boundaries other than Paxton.
I pull my phone out of my bag, and bring up Pax’s info and press to call.
He answers on the first ring. “Atta Boy Hunks-R-Us, this is Paxton. How can I help you with your hunky needs?”
I crack up, loving the way Pax always answers the phone when I call. “I’d like to place an order for a tall, dark, and handsome hunk.”
“I can help you with that. We have a few in stock. What would you like to do with your hunk today?”
I giggle. “I need my hunk to help me with my BDSM article.”
“Seriously?” His tone has lost its playful luster and grown serious.
“Yes, I’m saying I need your help with this, Pax.”
“Of course. You know I’d forever help you, Hart.”
A sense of warmth spreads throughout my chest at his words. “I hope we’re not ruining our friendship. We’re going to need ground rules before we get started.”
“Great. I love rules.”
I roll my eyes, knowing full well Paxton is not a rule follower. In high school, he was constantly getting into fights and breaking rules. “I’m serious here. If I feel our friendship is going to be affected, I’ll stop this assignment cold turkey.”
“You have my word, Hart. I don’t want this affecting our friendship either.”
“Can I meet you at Atta Boy’s tonight for a beer and contract signing?”
“I’ll be there.”
As I make my way downtown, the rules that Paxton and I must follow to keep our friendship intact swirl in my head. Tonight, the main thing I want to stress with Pax is: if anything feels weird or uncomfortable between us, we stop immediately.
Paxton is the one constant in my life and I can’t lose him.
Sure, I have family, but with my aunt’s relocation to Florida, and my parents visiting her for a few months while they renovate their home, there is a noticeable void.
I sometimes call Clara. She’s dating one of my triplet cousins who owns a male revue bar out in Las Vegas.
The Trifecta are gaining fame with all their hard work.
As I make my way downtown, my palms sweat on the steering wheel.
I’m second-guessing my location choice to meet with Paxton.
I get along with the entire Atwood clan, but they can never find out what Paxton and I are doing.
Most likely, they will all be at the brewery, which means we will need to be super careful.
It’s hard to do that with Paxton’s brothers though.
They’re a boisterous, close-knit family.
If I had to write an article about them, I’d title it ‘All About Those Atwoods’, or maybe I’d call it ‘Sibling Squad Goals’ and describe them something like…
Callum: the oldest and most serious. Workaholic (at least that’s what Paxton always says) and has no time for a social life because he runs Atta Boy.
Shepherd: He’s more of a mystery. Always gruff in his remarks, but once you get to know him he’s got a heart of gold.
Paxton: middle child, best bestie in the world. Best beer salesman in the world too. Could sell a popsicle to an Eskimo.
Anya: middle, middle child, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy growing up with so many brothers. She’s always been one to hold her own, and the chocolates she makes are amazing.
Brock: second youngest, cellarman, and all around nice guy. Would give you the shirt off his back.
Tripp: youngest Atwood, the least involved in the brewery, helps out bussing tables and cleaning a few days a week, but he hates it. He’d rather party all night long instead.
By the time I arrive at the brewery, I’ve only got minutes to spare before my meeting with Paxton. As soon as I hustle inside and make my way back to the bar area, I’m engulfed in a bear hug by Brock.
“Haven’t seen you in a minute,” Brock says, lifting me off my feet, his beard tickling my cheek. He spins me around and sets me down. “Where have you been hiding?”
I snicker, swatting at his arm playfully. “Paxton keeps me locked in the dungeon.”
He winks. “I believe it. That motherfucker doesn’t like to share.”
Tripp steps into the mix and hugs me. “Great to see you, Hartford.”
“Okay, unhand my bestie,” Paxton says, walking up to his younger brothers.
I glance around the bustling bar. “You guys are busy.”
Brock nods. “It’s the delicious beer I’ve been brewing. I’m trying out new flavors and combinations.”
I kneel before him. “Ah, teach me your ways, all-powerful beer maker.”
Paxton grabs my hand and helps me up. “Don’t kneel for this jackass.”
His unwavering protectiveness never fails to bring a smile to my lips.
Callum joins the fray, and I stand back, grinning, while they banter with each other.
The only brother missing is Shepherd. Paxton said he’d be back in the next week or so.
He’s down in Florida helping their cousins, Ellis and Urban Atwood, who own Bearded Goat Brewery.
I’ve met them a few times at family gatherings, and there must be something magical in the Atwood DNA, because they’re all so handsome.
Like they could have their own Atwood calendar.
Of course, Paxton would be the star, because he’s the best-looking Atwood. Hands down.
Like there’s no competition.
Plus, he’s charming. And I’m not biased. The individuals he meets during his travels as a beer representative for Atta Boy would have the same opinion. He’s gained many accounts for the brewery and is one of the best salesmen I know.
I think it’s the Atwood charm he possesses.
They’ve all got it, and it’s probably one reason I haven’t dated in forever.
No one can live up to Paxton.
It sucks, but it’s true.