The UN Series Complete Box Set (108 page)

I’m standing over the table arguing with the guys when I hear the door open to the conference room open.

“Hey sweetie,” Angel says walking into my office with a couple boxes of pizza in her hand.

I smile at her, glad for her to be here. I know she hates me having to work on the weekends just as much as I do. She had called me a while ago and offered to bring us lunch.

I take the pizza from her hands and place it on the table before turning my attention back to her. That’s when I notice Missy standing in the doorway with a smile on her face. A smile that is directed to Braxton. I frown, and Angel turns to see what I’m staring at.

“How are you doing, Missy?” he asks ignoring the pizza on the table and walking over to her.
Thought he was starving
? He had been complaining about how hungry he was.

“Good,” she replies walking over to the table. He pulls out a chair for her to sit down.

I clear my throat wondering what the fuck is going on when Angel starts to push me over to my seat as well.

“How is work going?” she asks before she opens up the boxes and grabs some napkins.

“It sucks,” Micah answers not caring about what’s going on. All he wants to do is dig into the pizza.

I look over at Angel. “How’s the cake coming?” If I know her, she has already started on it.

She shrugs. “It’s going okay. I called Missy after I left Holly’s to see what she was up to. After I picked her up, we spent over an hour online just trying to find instructions on how to make a four tier wedding cake.”

“How long do you have to get it right?” Braxton asks.

“A little over two weeks.” She looks over to me and smiles.

Braxton gets our attention as he speaks to Missy. “Are you helping make the cake as well?”

She smiles at him sweetly as she shakes her head. “Not really. I’m here for moral support than anything else.”

“That’s not true. You’ve already had several good ideas.”

“Doesn’t mean they are going to work.”

Braxton smiles at her. “I’m sure they will be great,” he offers.

I watch as he stares at her a little longer than he should. “Thought you were starving?” I ask.

He looks up to me, brown eyes narrowed. “I am, but I wasn’t going to just dig in.” He looks over with a scowl on his face to Micah as he crams a bite into his mouth. Then he turns to Missy. “Ladies first,” he says smoothly, offering Missy a small smile. I refrain from rolling my eyes.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SAMANTHA

I start up the truck and pull out of the garage at the firm before I speak to Missy. “What was that about?”

She turns her face to look out her window. “What are you talking about?”

I sigh. “Okay, let me ask a different question. Are you hitting on Braxton because you like him, or because you want Tate to hear about it and make him jealous?”

Instead of answering my question, she asks her own. “What?” she asks sounding offended. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“Yes, but…”

“I love Tate,” she deadpans. “But he doesn’t feel the same. I can’t make him love me, Sam. What am I supposed to do? He has not spoken one word to me.”

“No,” I say slowly. She’s right. “But why Braxton?”

“Why Braxton what? I just spoke with him. Did I get his number? No. Did I give him mine? No. I just spoke with him, just as I did with Micah and Slade.”

“It just seemed like he was flirting,” I say honestly.

“He was,” she agrees. “Did you see me flirting back?” she asks looking over at me.

“No,” I respond.

She gives me a small smile that quickly drops off of her face. “I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for Tate,” she says looking down at her hands in her lap.

“Missy, I don’t think that’s why he wouldn’t…”

“He said I deserved better.” She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “But what if I think he is the best thing for me?”

“Is that what you think?” I ask pulling onto the highway. “You think he is what
you
need?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds as I race the truck down the interstate. When she finally speaks it’s as if she’s just thinking aloud. “I think that I need
him
in my life, which I had. I had him as a good friend. Now, since Vegas, I no longer have any part of him. He was right, what we did was a mistake.” She looks over at me. “I told you in Vegas I wouldn’t take it back. But I would now. He didn’t love me, what I took from that night was much more than what he did. And in doing that I lost one of my best friends.”

And those words alone have me wanting to strangle Tate all over again.

“But it did teach me one thing,” she says bringing me out of my thoughts.

“What’s that?”

“That I don’t want to be alone. I want someone to lay around with on Sundays. Someone who will go to dinner with me on a Monday just because they don’t want to be at home. I want more than just sex. I want someone to love me back the way that I love them.”

I look over to her quickly and give her a smile. “You deserve that, Missy.”

She tilts her head to the side as she looks out the windshield. “I do.”

*****

“Are you sure that’s right?” Missy asks with a frown as she looks at the mess I have in front of me.

We’ve been working on it for three hours, and honestly I have no clue what I’m fucking doing. “It looks too runny,” I say looking down at the fondant icing.

Missy holds up the printout and reads over the directions. “It’s says that it can be runny for the first eight to ten minutes. To just work it in a figure eight until it starts to harden.”

“For ten minutes?” I ask wide-eyed. I don’t think it will work in a figure eight for two seconds. It will just run all over the countertop.

“Just try it.”

I look up when I hear the door open from the garage and see Slade walking into the house. He looks tired, and I feel sorry for him. He has been just as busy as I have been if not more. The poor guy needed a day off today.

He turns his attention to Missy. “I have something to give you.”

“What?” she inquires cautiously looking between the two of us.

“Yeah. What?” I ask placing a hand on my hip.

He reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a business card. “This is from Braxton.” He holds it out to her. “He wanted to ask you out to dinner tomorrow but he didn’t have your number. And he thought it would be rude to call Angel and ask for it. So, he asked me to give you his card. If you are interested, give him a call tomorrow.” He shrugs like he could care either way if she does or not.

She slowly reaches up and takes it from him.

Slade bends down and kisses me on the forehead. “I’m going to get ready for bed,” he announces before he turns to walk off. “Oh and Missy? Don’t worry about Braxton. I’ve already threatened him with his life if he hurts you.” He gives a smile before he walks off down the hall.

I turn to watch him walk off. I wanna say ‘Tate hurt her but all you did was take up for him’ but I don’t, I keep my mouth shut.

“Well,” she takes a deep breath, “I should help you clean up.” She starts to wipe up the water that still sits in puddles on the kitchen island.

“No. You’re fine. I’ll clean it up,” I say waving her off.

“Are you sure?” She frowns. “You could get it done a lot faster if I helped.”

I shake my head at her. “Really. Go home. Thanks for all of your help today. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She really did help me a lot.

I walk her out and then return to the kitchen. I’m halfway through cleaning up the mess when Slade enters, freshly showered with a towel sitting low on his hips.

“Do that tomorrow, Angel,” he says staring at the mess.

“I can’t just leave this overnight,” I say as I throw some spatulas into the sink.

He grabs a hold of my wrist and starts to pull me out of the kitchen. “Slade...” I protest but it’s useless.

We enter the bedroom, and he shuts the door behind us. He nuzzles his face into the side of my neck. “Hmm. You smell like cake, it’s making me hungry.”

I bet he didn’t eat dinner. “Have you eaten dinner?” Maybe he ran through a drive-thru on his way home from work.

He shakes his head. “No and I’m starving.”

I pull away and head for the bedroom door. “What would you like me to make you?” I ask.

He shakes his head as he grabs a hold of me once again. “You are my dinner, Angel.”

*****

SLADE

Sunday morning I walk out of the shower and hear my phone ringing. I answer it when I see it’s Tate.

“Hello?”

“What are you up to today?” he asks.

I take the towel and rub it through my hair. “I don’t know. Angel has already warned me that she’s spending the day in the kitchen baking. I have a feeling I need to leave the house.” I have a tendency to be clingy. And today she needs her space. It would just be better if I left her alone.

“Perfect. I am calling to see if you want to go and play some golf.”

“That sounds good.” I haven’t played golf since my birthday.

“Okay. I’ll be over in about thirty to pick you up,” he responds before hanging up.

“Wait…” I was going to tell him I would come and get him. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for him to come here since Missy is in the kitchen with Angel. Vegas was awkward enough after their night in the sack. Now that we are all back home, I would bet my left nut that they have not spoken or seen one another.

Maybe I should go and warn Angel of his appearance.

I quickly finish drying off and get dressed. As soon as I open our bedroom door I can hear her cussing up a storm in the kitchen.

“Son of a bitch,” she snaps.

“I think you can save it.” Missy’s voice comes next.

“What?” Angel snaps. “It looks nothing like the picture,” she argues.

“You can cover it with the fondant,” Missy continues.

I enter the kitchen to see two round cakes sitting on top of one another with a huge rod sticking through them.

Angel is standing with her back to me in a pair of short fabric shorts and a white tank top. I smile as she taps her left foot as she looks over the cake, her hands on her hips as if she’s contemplating Missy’s words.

“Fuck it,” she finally says and picks up the cakes before pulling the rod out. She then walks over to the trash and throws them both into it. “I’ll start over.”

Missy purses her lips and then walks over to help her.

I clear my throat. “Good morning, ladies,” I say trying to sound cheerful.

“Morning,” they both say in unison, with their backs to me.

I place my hands in my pockets and rock back on my heels. “I’m going to go play golf for the day,” I announce.

“Bye,” Angel says dryly, before she rips open a bag of flour not even bothering to turn around and look at me.

“Okay then,” I mumble.

I pull out my phone to tell Tate to call me when he’s in the driveway, when I hear the front door open. My head snaps over to it to see him walking in with a huge smile on his face. The girls stop what they’re doing and both look over at him with straight faces.

Tate’s smile drops off his face when he sees Missy. At least he’s wearing his dark sunglasses so you can’t see the total look of shock on his face.

I look at the girls, and they just turn their heads back to their cooking project and get back to working.

I turn and walk toward Tate and out the front door with him following me. Once we get in his truck he speaks.

“You didn’t tell me Missy was here.”

“I just pulled out my phone to text you,” I say. “And I figured you would have seen her car in our driveway.” How can you miss the little bright red car?

“I wasn’t paying attention.” He shakes his head. “What are they doing besides destroying the kitchen?”

“Holly asked Angel to make her wedding cake, and Missy offered to help her,”

“Wow,” Tate says sounding surprised. “I can’t believe Sam is doing it.”

“I don’t think she would have turned her down no matter how much she wanted to.”
“Yeah, I agree, but it must be hard on her,” he replies.

I frown. “What do you mean ‘hard on her’?” I have total faith in Angel. I would never tell her that she couldn’t do something. That girl is headstrong and very determined.

He’s silent for a few seconds. “Marie spoke about it all the time.” The fact that he mentioned Angel’s mom has me a little surprised. He never speaks of her. “She wanted her and Sam to start a business together. A bakery. That’s where Sam learned all her cooking from. Marie was an amazing cook.”

“I’ve never heard about that.”
A bakery?

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I only heard Marie’s point of view on this story, so I don’t know if it was what Sam wanted to do or not. But I do know it was all Marie talked about. How she wished she would have started it after she found out she was sick. So she would have had something important to leave to Sam. She felt all she was going to leave her with were bad memories and lies.”

I can’t help but look over at him. “Is that how you feel?”

He looks over at me quickly before returning his eyes back to the road. “I’m going to tell her,” he says in a dead tone.

“When?” I prod. “When are you going to let her know that she’s not alone? That she has a brother who loves her?”

He slams on the brakes a little too quickly at a red light. He places a hand on the steering wheel and turns his body to face me. “When I’m ready. Why do I have to tell her right now? Do you want me to fuck up everything? Because that’s exactly what it will do.” He sighs and sits back in his seat. “She will do the same thing to me that she did to Marie.”

“So you’re afraid of how she will treat
you
? You’re not the least bit concerned how
she
will feel about the situation?”

“I know how she will feel,” he says through gritted teeth. “She will feel like her entire life is a lie. She will feel like she didn’t matter enough for someone to tell her the truth. And yes, I agree with you. She deserves to know. But she doesn’t deserve those feelings right now. She’s happy, and I don’t want to fuck that up for her, or you, or myself.” By the time he finishes his rant, his voice is soft and somewhat full of sorrow.

I decide to keep my mouth shut. I know everything he just said was how he took the news when he found out the truth about his life. And he just wants to save his sister from any more heartache. But I don’t know how much longer I can keep my mouth shut.

We pull up to the country club and get out of the truck. It is still pretty cold outside since it is February, so we will be hitting inside today. I love golf but I fucking hate cold weather.

“Just so you know, I invited a friend,” Tate says with a smirk now on his face.

“Who?” I ask as I type Angel a message that I hope she has a good day. I hate it when she’s in a bad mood.

“You’ll see. Just don’t punch him. He’s really a good friend.”

My eyebrows shoot up.
Don’t punch him?
This could get interesting.

I follow him into the indoor golf range and come to a stop as he continues to walk up to a scrawny redhead who I have seen before.