More than Sexy (The Sexy #1)
Chapter One
Jason
Although solitary is a state of being I choose for reasons only I—and my partners, men I consider my brothers—understand, sometimes it isn’t easy, especially since we are very much in demand.
As owners, we’re becoming well-known here and have had extremely positive press, and that makes me a target for those who want an in with the occasional high-brow guest, and for women with dollar signs in their eyes and hopes to snag a wealthy man.
I don’t engage. I am ultra-selective with the females I bring to my bed.
My life is the club, my partners, and my large family.
I keep my circle close and minimize my risk of loss as best I can.
That mantra defines me, extending into my love life, as well.
After my father blew our family sky-high, after I almost lost my sister to cancer when she was a child, after losing my partner Landon’s twin and my best friend back in college, I don’t, can’t, get close to people and risk more loss.
I don’t get emotionally involved. Ever. A woman can’t expect anything more than the occasional hookup when it’s convenient, but I enjoy those moments of connection with the females I do allow into my bed. I have enough darkness in my life that when I let go, I want to enjoy and have fun.
“Jason, this has been an amazing night!” my sister, Sienna, says, throwing her arms around my neck and planting a kiss on my cheek.
I chuckle and smile at her glowing face.
Her husband, Ethan Knight, grins as he pulls her off me and into his arms. “She’s been liberal with the alcohol,” Ethan explains her exuberant enthusiasm. “Her first time out since having the baby.” He holds his wife tight against him.
“I had fun! And now we’re going home to f—” Ethan places a hand over Sienna’s mouth, sparing me from hearing about my sister’s love life. Jesus.
I shoot the man a grateful look.
“And on that note, we’re leaving. We just wanted to say goodbye,” Ethan says with a smug grin on his face.
“Thanks for coming.” I extend my arm and shake Ethan’s hand. “And give that little bundle a kiss from her uncle Jase.”
Accepting this man as my sister’s husband was an adjustment, one I am still making, considering Ethan knocked up Sienna before anyone even knew they were together.
They now have a baby girl named Lizzy, whom I adore, and Ethan is a member of the family.
More people for me to worry about. I watch them leave, acknowledging my sister is in good hands with the other man.
My gaze turns to my closest friends since our time together in college, now equal partners in Club TEN29.
They stand huddled together around the bar with some of our repeat customers.
Tanner Grayson is the night manager, and Landon Bennett is the head of Entertainment and Appearances, Brand Deals, and Promotions.
After Landon’s twin died, he pulled into himself, while Tanner spiraled, and it was only by sheer determination that he dragged himself out of the angry place he went to and the trouble he got himself into.
I hold the position of CEO. Together, we’re a solid mix of personalities and work ethic in a club that is merely two years old but is becoming prominent in the night scene.
We make sure Club TEN29 provides a memorable experience for everyone who steps inside.
There is no task too menial that we won’t handle personally if the need arises.
But I want more for our singular club. We have a stage on which customers dance, but it isn’t fully utilized, and although we put a lot of money into ads and promotions, we aren’t growing as fast as I would like.
I just haven’t figured out in which direction we need to go in order to break out the way I want.
Since Tanner and Landon think things are fine as they are, I need a fully fleshed-out plan before presenting it to them for a vote.
Which is why I’m meeting my cousin Gabe later on tonight. To hash out some ideas.
Gabriel Dare owns Elite, also a nightclub, but one that operates on a scale I can’t imagine, one where people pay over five figures for a table and A-list celebrities visit often.
They have clubs all over the world, including on the island of Eden, an exclusive invitation-only resort near the Bermuda Triangle.
I want to think things through before I meet up with Gabe, and I can’t make decisions here, where the music blares and people party. As much as Club TEN29 is home, I need a break.
After clearing my departure with Tanner and Landon, I head out into the cold air. I pull my wool jacket around me and head to my car. Despite it being impractical in the city, I like having my Jag at my disposal.
Once I’m enclosed in the luxurious interior and the heated seats and warmth begin to surround me, I relax.
I turn on some music and decide to drive around a little before heading to my cousin’s.
This area of the city isn’t the grid of ease that is Uptown Manhattan, and I wind my way through the smaller streets, taking in the shops that line them.
Because it’s cold, not many people are out, so when I come upon a lone van parked in front of a run-down apartment building, with two women standing alongside it, I slow down.
When one of the women bends over, her cute ass peeking out from beneath the edge of her down jacket, I notice.
And when in frustration, she kicks what I realize is a flat tire, I come to a complete stop, then park my car in front of hers.
As I climb out and get a look at the curvy woman with waves of blonde hair, full lips, and a startled expression on her pretty face, currently clutching the lug wrench in her hand like a weapon, I realize my night is about to get much more interesting.
* * *
Faith
I load the last of my marshmallow pops into the back of my company van, adjusting the baskets, taking care to space the items far enough apart that nothing will get ruined or crushed.
I spent all day in my small apartment kitchen, making and wrapping my treats with the intention of dropping off baskets to nearby stores along with my business cards.
I plan to request they leave them on the counter for their customers to sample, hoping to drive business to Sweet Treats, my candy store located off the beaten path.
Kelsey Johnson, the culinary school intern I hired to help, joins me after working in the shop all day. Before Kelsey and I can climb into the car, I notice my flat back tire and groan.
The deflated tire mocks me and all the time I spent creating and preparing.
Although I could have handed them out during the day, I ended up spending all afternoon cooking and creating, deciding to work from home instead of the shop, and now it’s early evening.
But I know the area I want to hit up has open stores with people browsing for the evening.
A used bookstore, a coffee shop, and a few other boutique-type stores that will hopefully help out a fellow business.
I should have known better than to drop a big chunk of change on an old beat-up delivery van with no known history, but desperation makes a woman do stupid things.
And although I’ve come a long way, I was desperate when I arrived in Manhattan with a new name, a limited amount of funds, and a dream of opening my own candy shop.
I glare at the flat on the back tire, wondering why luck just isn’t on my side. I’ve had a rough go of it for a long time now, and I thought I was coming out on the other side at last. Now this.
“Kelsey, can you grab the lug wrench in the back? Just be careful not to knock over the candy. I’ll deal with checking out the spare once I see if I can even get the lug nuts off.” Assuming this old van even has a spare.
Kelsey, a pretty girl with brown hair and bangs, meets my gaze, eyes wide. “You can change a tire?” the twenty-one-year-old asks.
I manage a laugh, or else I might cry in frustration. “I’m going to try.”
When I was young, my dad, before abandoning my mother, older brother and me, was a car fanatic.
Always have a lug wrench in your car, baby girl.
It’ll save you any time you have a flat.
Not that a ten-year-old knew anything about changing tires, but I hung on my daddy’s every word until one day he didn’t come home.
After that, I gave up on learning about cars, but I knew what I had to do from a class I took in high school.
Accepting the lug wrench from Kelsey, I kneel down by the tire once more. When all my strength won’t turn the nut, and I try all four of them, I groan, rise to my feet, and kick at the tire in annoyance.
“Pretty sure that won’t help,” Kelsey says, just as I mutter an obscene curse thanks to the pain shooting through my foot.
I’m in so much agony, I barely register the car stopping, then pulling into the open spot in front of my van until a large man approaches us, making me aware we are two women alone on an empty street in the dark.
Using the wrench as my defense, I hold it up in front of me. “Don’t come near us.”
“Relax.” He steps to the side until he’s underneath a streetlamp, the glow illuminating his features. “Do I look like a killer to you?”
I study him, a handsome man with dark brown hair, in a wool coat with his tie visible. “Ted Bundy was handsome, too.”
He grins, and my heart skips a beat. My God, he is good-looking. A dimple beside that amazing smile winks at me, and body parts I thought long dead come to life.
“Thank you … I think?” he says with a shake of his head. “Or not. Look, you obviously need help.” He strides past me, ignoring my weaponry, and kneels down by the tire. “What about roadside assistance? Did you call?”
I glance at his obviously expensive coat, and note his suit beneath and brand-name shoes. “Umm, does this old hunk of junk look like it comes with roadside assistance?” I shoot him a look of disbelief. “Some of us can’t afford luxuries, and AAA is definitely a luxury.”