Just One Kiss (Very Irresistible Bachelors Book 2) Read online

  A few years back, we’d started having work lunches because it was the only time we had to talk about our joint charity project, the Ballroom Galas.

  The gala season ran from September to June, and we had events periodically. There wasn’t a set number of galas—it depended on how many projects we were donating to and how much each event raised. The March ball was approaching fast.

  We called these meetings family councils because the galas were a family affair, and we took great pride in it. Tess, Skye, and I were in charge of the organization, Cole and Hunter brought in the donors. I couldn’t invite clients, because that would be a conflict of interest.

  In the beginning, it had been a hell of a lot of work setting everything up, but now it ran like a well-oiled machine, which meant that our family councils were actually catching up time.

  Cole and Hunter were already in the meeting room we always met in when I arrived, sitting on opposite sides of the rectangular glass table. I decided to sit next to my brother.

  “Where is Josie?” I asked Hunter.

  “She’s got another meeting and couldn’t make it.”

  “Ah, the perils of being a successful lawyer,” I said.

  My sisters came in just after me, dropping into chairs on either side of Hunter.

  “The delivery app says our food will be here in fifteen minutes,” Tess said. “In the meantime... who has news?”

  “Or even just juicy gossip would do,” Skye added. I considered mentioning Heather, then immediately decided not to. I wasn’t ready for everyone to chime in with their opinions.

  I schooled my features to appear neutral and shrugged. “Nothing on my front.”

  Skye pouted. “Come on. Tess and I could use some distraction.”

  My thoughts went to Heather again. Did she have family here? It didn’t seem that was the case from the way she spoke.

  “Why don’t we focus on the upcoming gala?” I said. It was just one week away.

  “Because everything is ready. There’s no open issue.” Tess grinned. She was onto me.

  Cole cocked a brow. “You keeping secrets, Ryker?”

  Hunter grimaced. “Don’t do that. Didn’t work too well for me and Josie.”

  I had no clue why I thought my subject change would go unnoticed.

  Skye was the only one who wasn’t pouncing on me.

  “You’re definitely keeping secrets,” she said after a few seconds, flashing me a shit-eating grin.

  “Girls, why so mistrusting?” I grinned, looking between the two of them.

  “I don’t know... something in the way you’re trying to shift focus from yourself. You usually do the opposite,” Skye said.

  Cole nodded. “She has a point.”

  Our food delivery arrived just then, and we all dug in. We had a mix of the best New York had to offer, at least from what was in a five-block radius: pizza with goat cheese, burgers with onion rings and jalapenos, as well as kale salad and sweet potato fries.

  I was suspicious that no one pressed the issue while we ate, but when I rose from the table, about to leave, Tess asked, “See you on Monday?”

  “Yes.”

  We had a no-secrets policy in the family, and this was the first time I wasn’t honoring it. I had a hunch that was going to change the upcoming Monday. I’d missed the last one because I went to the repair shop with Heather.

  After lunch, I headed straight back to the fund. Cole called me on the way.

  “Forgot to ask, want to go have drinks tonight? I can be your wingman,” he said.

  “Ha! Name one instance when you were my wingman. More like the other way round.”

  “Happy to prove you wrong tonight.”

  I grinned. We always gave each other shit about this. But I wasn’t up to going out tonight. The thought of picking up a stranger held zero appeal.

  “Nah, not in the mood,” I replied.

  Cole was silent for a beat. “Damn. I’m having a real déjà vu right now.”

  “To what?”

  “Hunter refusing to go out and then breaking out of the bachelor pack.”

  I chuckled. “What are you, channeling our sisters right now?”

  “I’m a quick learner. Putting two and two together.”

  “Cole... don’t you have a real estate empire to run?”

  “I can always find time to annoy you.”

  “Glad to know, but I’ve arrived at the fund, and I have no time to be annoyed right now.”

  “No problem. We’ll pick up later.”

  “I’m sure we will.”

  Grinning, I disconnected the call before entering the fund building. I’d started as an intern and climbed the ladder ever since. I spent so much time here that it should feel like a second home by now, but I was still not used to the marble floors and granite counters of the reception area, nor the mahogany desks and leather chairs. It was all over-the-top, but our clients were heavy hitters. They needed to feel at ease.

  In my free time, I was a guy with a guitar, singing for his own amusement. At work, things were different. As an analyst, I’d been one of the most sought-after on Wall Street, which was why I’d shot up the ranks to director before I’d even hit thirty. I brought in heavy-hitting clients, making the company money and earning exorbitant bonuses.

  The receptionist told me Owen was back, so I headed straight to his office. He worked closely with the PR team, trying to put out the scandal.

  I’d prepared a convincing pitch for Heather, because I wanted her to get this gig. I’d seen the way she’d shrunk into herself when she mentioned the rent issue, and fuck if I’d allow it.

  A little voice at the back of my mind told me that Heather should be off-limits. She was a single mom, and I was the opposite of what she needed.

  But ignoring that voice was far too easy.

  When she’d said that she wanted to give her girl the best, I’d had a flashback to those difficult years after Dad had left, when Mom had worked herself to the bone until late into the night to make ends meet. I’d be damned if I’d let Heather go through that. I wouldn’t allow it. No way. No how.

  “Owen, do you have a few minutes?” I asked, stepping through the open door.

  “Five until my next call. Shoot.” He ran a hand over his bald head.

  “I’ve been thinking about the scandal... ways to do some damage control in the press.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “How about an in-depth spread about the team? An article that highlights the human side of venture capitalism. Showing that we’re not all just greedy bastards.”

  Owen leaned back in his chair. “That could work. You know anyone willing to do that? Everyone I’ve talked to just wants a scandalous angle.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. I have a contact at the New York Reports.”

  He scoffed. “I was hoping for the Times. Or a freelancer with a huge platform.”

  “As you said... no one’s willing to say anything nice about us right now. Beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll give you her number. She’s a good friend.”

  Owen ran a hand over his bald head again. It was his thing when he was nervous. “A good female friend? I hope this isn’t one of your hookups.”

  I straightened up, training my eyes on him.

  “My personal life is none of your concern.”

  “Sure... except your personal life also had you walk in here with a bruised cheek.”

  “That was one time in eight years.”

  I leveled him with a stare. Owen and I had some history. He’d always thought I wouldn’t make it, that I didn’t have what it took to survive on Wall Street. He’d taken it personally when I was made director, because I was so laid-back about everything. It was just my style, but Owen was among the crowd that thought if you didn’t have a stick up your ass all the time, you didn’t belong in the building. I never let anyone give me shit, and I wasn’t about to start now.

  Chapter Seven

  Heather

  �
�Who’s got interviews for a kick-ass story? Who’s going to absolutely nail it? That’s right. I will.”

  I couldn’t believe Ryker had moved so fast. We’d only spoken about the article on Monday, and three days later, I already had interviews scheduled.

  I was dancing around in my bathroom while fixing my hair in a bun, admiring my classic suit in the mirror. I usually wore jeans and sweaters when I was on field assignments, gathering stories, and pajamas when I was at home, editing articles. I could write everywhere—on the subway, in cabs, in coffee shops, but I needed absolute silence for editing. Writing was more like a stream of consciousness, whereas editing was where I shaped the content into a coherent article. Truthfully, I tried to work from home as often as possible so I could spend time with Avery, who’d learned from an early age that when Momma had her headphones on, she needed quiet.

  Typically, Avery would grab her coloring book and just sit next to me, drawing in silence.

  Right now, Avery was at school though, so I’d pick her up after my appointment. Pity, I’d wanted to snuggle her a little, share my happiness. If this worked out, we wouldn’t have to move. I’d spoken to my landlord this morning, letting him know there was a possibility for my bonus to be paid out early.

  “Look, Heather, I’m willing to wait a few months for you to sort out the bonus situation and give me proof you can afford this if you can cover the rent in advance.”

  I bit my lip. “I can do it for two months.”

  I didn’t want to dip into our emergency fund too much.

  “Okay. We’ll take it from there.” I felt better knowing I didn’t have to move us right away, but we weren’t out of hot water yet. Sorting out my bonus would take some time. Big corporations moved slowly, but I was happy that at least for now, we didn’t have to move.

  I left the apartment with a huge grin on my face and was in an even more excellent mood when I reached the building that housed the Pearman Fund offices on floors twenty-seven, eight, and nine. It was a staple in the New York landscape. A behemoth of glass and steel, it towered even over the rest of the buildings surrounding it. The energy on Wall Street was markedly different than the rest of Manhattan. Suits walked everywhere, almost all with headphones on, engaged in continuous conversations.

  When I walked through the double doors of the bank, I was so excited that I was practically bursting with energy. Not that my excitement was entirely due to the opportunity at hand... I also couldn’t wait to see a certain sexy guitarist in a suit.

  I admired the enormous entrance and waiting area with wrought iron chandeliers and white leather couches. The mix of traditional and modern was right on trend. The half a dozen receptionists talked on their headphones while typing even faster than I did—not to brag, but I could type over a hundred words per minute. Combined with the sound of heels clicking on the marble floors, the background noise was infernal.

  To my astonishment, it wasn’t Ryker who picked me up from the reception, but Owen, the man I’d spoken with on the phone three times already.

  “Thank you for coming here on such short notice, Ms. Prescott. We appreciate it. You said that you need at least four or five interviews to pull quotes from, is that correct?” Owen said as we entered one of the nine elevators. He pressed the button to the twenty-seventh floor.

  “Yes. The more, the better. That way I can interweave multiple personal stories into the article. I’d say if we can get ten or fifteen, that would be just great. A mix of men and women is also important.”

  His mouth quirked up. “Wouldn’t want all the feminists on our ass for only hiring men, right?”

  I disliked Owen instantly based on that comment alone. It sent shivers down my spine. Odd how on the phone calls this tone was not evident. Disturbing as it was, I forced the corners of my mouth in a smile.

  “This is Ryker’s floor,” Owen announced when the doors opened.

  The tips of my fingers instantly tingled. It was as if my entire body was on alert just because Ryker was somewhere close. And when I heard the deep baritone of his voice, my breath caught.

  Holy hell. If I reacted like this when he wasn’t even in my line of vision, how was I going to fare in his presence?

  I didn’t have to wait too long to get my answer, because Ryker appeared at the end of the hallway the next second and walked right toward us.

  Yum. Hot, hot damn. To be honest, until this very moment, I couldn’t imagine Ryker working as a venture capitalist. But that crisp white shirt and the modern cut of his navy suit fit him perfectly. Everything from the way he walked to the way his colleagues greeted him spoke of self-confidence and power.

  He stopped right in front of us.

  “Heather, you made it. I’ve got a few colleagues who are more than happy to talk to you about their stories.”

  Wait, what? I wasn’t going to interview him? I hadn’t expected that.

  “Perfect.”

  “Do you want to begin right away?” he asked.

  Something was awry. Ryker lacked his usual charm. He was so serious. He seemed like a different person at work.

  “Sure. Let’s go,” I said. Owen returned to the elevator without so much as a goodbye, which was fine with me. I was here to do a job, get paid, and get out.

  I’d expected a change in Ryker’s demeanor once Owen left, but he retained the serious manner. I didn’t expect him to do anything inappropriate, obviously, but I didn’t know what to make of this frostiness between us.

  With a pang of disappointment, I wondered if finding out I was a single mom had put him off me romantically. Maybe it had nothing to do with the stuffy office and he just didn’t want to get involved with someone with a child. It’s better that way, I told myself. I didn’t have anything to offer him anyway. I’d just gotten through a bad breakup that left me feeling empty and unsure if I wanted a relationship again. I was sure a man like Ryker wasn’t interested in a ready-made family, so that was just fine.

  Ryker led me through a labyrinth of corridors, and we stopped in a huge room with at least three dozen desks. Wow. If I thought the waiting area was deafening, it was nothing compared to this. Most were on the phone, and everyone was loud. The floor-to-ceiling window captured my attention. Up above the street, Manhattan looked different, like a snapshot of a science-fiction movie.

  We stopped in front of the desk of a gorgeous brunette. Her curly hair was wild around her face, her dark eyes contoured with light blue eyeliner.

  “Ruby, here is the reporter I told you about, Heather Prescott,” Ryker said.

  “Fantastic. You’re just saving me from a boring lunch break, Heather.”

  “Do you want to do the interview here?” I asked.

  “No, no, no. We have meeting rooms. Those are more private. Not gonna spill my secrets in front of everyone. They’ll just have to wait and read about them along with the rest of the country.”

  Ryker grinned. “We can always eavesdrop.”

  Ruby narrowed her eyes. “You do that, Ryker, and I’ll drop salt in your cocktails at the next company party. Accidentally, of course.”

  Judging by the friendly atmosphere, camaraderie wasn’t frowned upon. And yet, Ryker still remained serious with me when Ruby led us to the meeting room. I was so used to him either joking or flirting that it completely threw me off-balance.

  As Ryker walked beside me, I realized I had to stop being so aware of him, but it was impossible. The scent of his aftershave mixed with a cologne that smelled like cypress and leather. The result was knee-weakening sex appeal. How come I hadn’t noticed it before? Probably because I’d always met him in the evening until now, when the scent dissipated.

  I rearranged the strap of my shoulder bag, mentally chastising myself for my wayward thoughts. I couldn’t react like this to a man I didn’t know, and I shouldn’t want to anyway.

  When we stopped in the doorway of a small meeting room, Ryker set his hand at the small of my back. I tried to ignore the jolt coursing through me and was read
y to dismiss it as an involuntary touch, when he moved his fingers in small, deliberate circles. They set my skin on fire even through the two layers of clothes.

  I tilted my head in Ryker’s direction, cocking a brow. His mouth curled in a half smile. He dropped his gaze to my feet, and then raised it slowly. I felt as if he was undressing me and barely bit back the irrational impulse to check if I still had clothes on.

  Sheesh, this man was a danger to my senses.

  I couldn’t get a good read on all the mixed messages he was sending... though my body didn’t find anything mixed about them, it was just on fire. Added to the fact that I was still melting because he’d gotten me this opportunity in the first place, and he wasn’t a danger just to my senses. He was just a danger all around.

  “Here is where I leave you,” he said. “If either of you needs anything, just let me know. Ruby, you know where my office is.”

  Ryker had his own office? I’d assumed he was an analyst, housed in a cube setup like everyone else.

  After he left, Ruby pointed at the ten chairs around the table. “Where do you want to sit?”

  We ended up sitting opposite each other, my trusty recorder between us.

  After writing about the business world for years, I knew the lingo and had even done my homework on this department’s activities before coming over, thinking that everyone would be more comfortable if I eased them in by first asking about the business before moving on to more personal questions. But I needn’t have worried; all Ruby needed was just a little prompting, and then she couldn’t stop talking.

  She told me everything. First about what had driven her to take this job in the first place, why Wall Street, why this specific branch, why she would do this even without the bonuses. What the atmosphere was usually like at the office, about their work ethic.

  This was going to be epic. Since I was recording everything, I was already mentally editing the article.

  “You know, with all the changes in this in industry, I don’t think anyone can do it if they don’t have a passion for it,” she said.

  “I know what you mean,” I told her. “It’s the same in my business.”