Chapter 2
TAG
Carrying a canvas bag laden with brightly-colored gifts, I make my way up to the Crawford family’s front steps. I ring the bell, anticipation zinging through me. Is she here already? Will she give me a look of utter loathing before proceeding to ignore me for the entire evening?
How hard will I come later, when I jerk off to thoughts of dominating her and wiping that scornful look off her face?
If past experience is any indication, I will come very fucking hard.
The door swings open. I shove my horny thoughts aside and put a blankly pleasant expression on my face.
“Hey, Tag.” Anna, Janie’s older sister, gives me a puzzled look. “Didn’t you get my mom’s text?”
“Uh…”
“She probably mis-texted; she does that all the time. Joe couldn’t make it tonight. Some work thing, he says. I bet he’s just holed up with a new girlfriend.” She rolls her eyes. “We’re rescheduling for the twenty-eighth. Are you free?”
I’ll do whatever it takes to make myself free. “Yeah, no problem.”
Anna gives me a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry you drove all the way out here.”
“It’s no problem, really.” Fucking hell. I thought I would get to see Janie.
“Do you want to come in for a beer or anything?” Anna asks. “Shoot the shit with Dad?”
I’m about to say yes, because their dad, Reginald, is awesome. Way better than my piece of shit, deadbeat sperm donor. But before I can answer, Anna looks past me and her eyes light up. “Janie, what the heck? I thought you were in Colorado!”
She’s here. My girl is here. I turn around, only to see the delight on Janie’s face transform to disgust. Fuck, she really hates me. It’s my own goddamn fault—I’m the one who broke up with her, not the other way around.
She quickly recovers and smiles with those gorgeous, red-painted lips. “Surprise! I came back early. But...what did I miss? Is everyone okay?”
I want to ask what she was doing in Colorado, but I know if I did, she’d be lightning-fast to tell me it’s none of my concern where she goes or who she goes there with or what she does there.
And she’d be right.
“Yes and no,” Anna says. “Stupid Joe asked if we could reschedule. I think he used you not being here as an additional reason to change the date.”
“Of course,” Janie says, rolling her eyes and looking every ounce the spankable little girl. “Glad to be of service to our debauched brother’s excuses. I guess I’ll come in and say hey to Mom and Dad.”
“They’ll be so happy to see you!”
Janie shoves past me and into Anna’s embrace.
Anna looks over Janie’s head. “They’ll be happy to see you too, Tag.”
“Actually, Tag has somewhere to be. Right, Tag?” Janie turns to glare at me over her shoulder.
I’m tempted to push the matter, to go in and drink a cold one with Reginald, and brave the icy looks Janie will undoubtedly hurl my way. But instead I offer the women an easy shrug and say, “I’ll be back on...when’s the new date, again?”
“The twenty-eighth—” Anna starts.
“The twenty-eighth of never,” Janie interrupts.
I laugh. “See you all on the twenty-eighth, then.”
“Bye, Tag. See you soon.” Anna waves.
I pause on the porch as the two of them start inside.
“Come on, Janie,” Anna whispers. “Give the guy a break.”
Janie plugs her ears. “La la la, can’t hear you.”
My palm twitches. I want to take her over my knee and teach her what happens to sassy little brats. I want her crying in pain while she squirms and begs for my cock.
And that’s exactly why I broke up with her. She’s vanilla. I’m a sadist. We’re fundamentally incompatible.
But I love her so goddamn much, it hurts.
JANIE
“Explain this to me again.” I stare into my best friend’s beautiful green eyes as we sit across from each other in my living room. “You’re with two guys now. The bounty hunters.”
Ariel nods, looking happier than I’ve ever seen her.
Even when her asshole ex love-bombed her in the beginning of their relationship, she didn’t look this blissed out.
And that creepy bastard bought her a fucking sports car and filled it with enough high-end computer and tech gear to make any hacker’s panties wet.
“They’re seriously the best men I’ve ever known. ”
“With two, though?” I’m trying to make sense of this. Trying, and failing. “How does that...work?”
“It works amazingly, thank you very much.” She winks. “You are sheltered, aren’t you?”
Shame pulls my gaze down. I’ve never watched porn, never read any spicy books. My parents are great, totally sex-positive. When I was a kid, they answered all of my questions matter-of-factly, and never made me feel bad for asking. But I was a virgin when I met Tag, and we never experimented much.
“Sheltered?” I repeat. “I mean, not totally. It’s just...both at the same time? Or do you, like...never mind. This is none of my business.”
“I sometimes have sex with both at the same time, but not always.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry for saying you’re sheltered. It’s okay, sheltered or not. You can ask me anything, and if I don’t think it would break Austin or Lyle’s confidence, I’ll tell you what you want to know. Just ask.”
This is why I’ve always loved Ariel. She’s adventurous, nonjudgmental, and thoroughly kind.
“No, it’s okay. If I have questions, I’ll ask, and thanks for not thinking I’m being nosy.”
“You’re no more nosy than I would be, if our situations were reversed.” She takes a sip of her hot cocoa. “Damn, girl, you make the absolute best hot chocolate.”
“The trick is to add cinnamon.”
“It’s amazing. Now.” She leans forward. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”
My heart stutters in my chest. “No, of course not.”
Leaning back, she squints at me. “I feel like you’re holding something back, but if you aren’t ready to talk about it, that’s cool. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable. “I thought my family party was yesterday, remember?”
“Yeah—did something change?”
“The date,” I say with a laugh. “But they weren’t expecting me, so they didn’t tell me. But Tag was there when I arrived.”
Ariel frowns. “Still with the puppy-dog eyes?”
“Still with the puppy-dog eyes. I swear, those baby blues have everyone else in my family fooled. Not me, though.”
“They should stop inviting him. He broke up with you, but they’re still letting him hang around.”
“They like how he treated me.” I shrug as I take a drink of my cocoa. “My sister even said she thought he and I brought out the best in each other.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. If he’s so great, and if he wants to hang around staring at me, then why the fuck did he break up with me?”
She stares mournfully into her mug. “I wish I knew, friend. I wish I knew.”
Too soon, Ariel has to head out for a date with her new boyfriends. I’m left in an empty apartment with my unpacking chore looming in front of me. Sighing, I haul my carry-on into my room and heave it onto my bed.
When I open it, though, I’m confronted with someone else’s clothes. Shit, I must have grabbed the wrong carry-on. I’m going to have to call the airport, and it’s going to be a whole thing. I might never see my own carry-on again.
Then I recognize the pullover at the top of the neatly folded clothes.
It belongs to Mr. Capulet. Phew! Of course, our bags are nearly identical. We even congratulated each other on our good taste.
I pick up my phone, pleased to have an excuse to text him outside of work. Hey, Mr. Capulet. I accidentally bagnapped your carry-on.
He responds immediately. What are your demands?
I bite my lip and smile. His text sounds a teensy bit flirty. I know I’m imagining it, but that doesn’t matter—I’m still smiling like a teenager who’s just been asked to Homecoming by her crush. Ransom: my carry-on in exchange for yours. Do you agree to these terms?
They sound reasonable. Drop-off at your apartment?
Tempting. But it doesn’t make sense for him to drive all the way out here. I live across town from him. My parents, however... You can bring it to my parents’ house tomorrow evening, actually. It’s much closer to you. And, you’d be welcome to stay for the Christmas party.
I can’t believe I asked him that. He’ll say no, of course. Which is probably smart, because Tag will be there, acting like his obnoxious self. Say no, I think. Say it’s inconvenient.
I’m not sure about the party, he texts back, which fills me with relief and a lonely sense of loss. I don’t want to intrude on your family time. But I can bring your bag, of course. Please text me the address and time of the ransom drop.
I text him the info and wait with my breath held. Will he send me anything else that I can interpret as flirtatious? A comment about how I drive a hard bargain, or I’m the craftiest bagnapper he’s ever met?
No. He simply reacts to my text with a thumb’s up.