Seductive Secrets (The Debonair Series Book 3) Read online

  Raven’s auburn hair is sitting in a sloppy mess on top of her head with sprigs falling loosely around her neck. She may be my age, but she doesn’t look a day over seventeen with her baby face. Depending on the situation, it’s a blessing or curse.

  Maddi’s beside her on the couch, yapping away when I shut the door behind me. “Sooo, that’s why Andy says it’s a good show, but momma doesn’t watch it. I knew you just had to. Do you get flowers?”

  Raven’s brows are stretched high, silently asking for a way out of the conversation. I shove my hand on my hip and dig her hole a little bit deeper…because that’s what we do. “Go ahead, Rave. Tell her all about the show.”

  Raven narrows her deadly glare at me and slowly looks back to Maddi. “Why do you care about The Bachelor? It’s boring as ever.”

  Maddi shrugs her little shoulders. “Not what Andy says. She says it’s super good. They go on trips and they eat dinner.”

  “You eat dinner every night and your momma and uncle take you places.”

  Maddi rolls her eyes. “It’s not the same.”

  I know better than to try and argue with Maddi when she gets stuck on something like this. She’ll turn blue in the face with her argument. Personally, I’d rather discuss with a cement wall how hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward.

  Maddi skips off and I hug Raven’s neck. “I’ve missed the hell out of you. How was your trip?”

  She looks to the ceiling. “Hell,” she mutters. “My mother is losing her mind with my dad not too far behind her. I swear they’re going through a mid-life crisis. Dude, my dad bought a Miata and thinks it’s cool.”

  I blow a laugh under my breath.

  “I tried telling him if he was going to mid-life it up, he needed to do it right and buy a Porsche instead. But whatever. What’s his daughter know anyway?”

  “And exactly how would you feel if he bought a brand new Porsche and acted like he was in his twenties again?”

  She flashes a wry smirk. “Like a pimp’s daughter.” She snickers and then flicks her wrist. “Enough about them. I’ve been gone for a solid week. What’s new with you other than your daughter finding out that you ruined her childhood by keeping her away from the purple dino.”

  “Nothing’s changed other than working with Ryan for a little bit until Lori can come back.”

  “You liking it?”

  “I will once I get the office cleaned up. It’s so unorganized.” I groan.

  “You could’ve had an interesting weekend if you’d gotten off your high horse. You’re stupid as hell for not staying the evening with the wine guy. I would’ve ridden him like a bull just for the fun of it.”

  “I wanted to. God… He was fine as hell.”

  She arches her brow. “First, if you weren’t a chicken shit you could’ve had an Avery special. Second, I would have made up every excuse to stick around and find out if the goodies are as great as the good looks.”

  Raven calls them Avery specials. I call them one-night stands where we don’t have to worry about what the next morning will look like because I’m out the door before he wakes up. It’s been five years since I’ve pulled one off. Call it growing up, or maturing dignity, or the fact I would be devastated if I found out my daughter did it when she’s older.

  I shrug. “I grew out of it.”

  Raven bursts out into an exaggerated laughing fit and slaps her knee. “Oh, puh-lease. No one grows out of needing a good fucking. I think your hermit shell is cramping your style.”

  I shove her shoulder. “Nothing’s cramping my style. I’m just not interested in it anymore.”

  Her hands fly up. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. The ‘it’ you speak of better be Avery specials and not dick because no woman in her right mind just stops being interested in it. Unless you’ve switched sides this week while I was gone.”

  “Jesus, Raven,” I giggle. “Sounds like you’re the one in need of a good night.”

  “Oh, you’re very right. But this isn’t about me. I know how to fulfill my needs.” She jerks her head. “Come on. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

  I’m watching Maddi make a mess while she attempts to eat a taco. She doesn’t grasp the fact you hold the damn shell and turn your head. Nope. Not my daughter. Instead, she tilts everything—her head and the taco—causing it to fall onto her plate before she scoops it back up and does it again.

  Raven wipes her mouth and then sympathetic eyes land on me. “I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother’s land. I hate that you ran out of avenues.”

  I glance to my half-eaten enchilada. When my grandfather passed eleven years ago, he left Mamaw everything, including the entire eighty acres that his family passed down to him. Unfortunately, when my parents died, Mamaw couldn’t make ends meet and tried selling only part of it to help cover all the expenses. Although my parents had life insurance, we had to wait while they figured things out since they died at the same time. After putting the part of the land up for sale, almost immediately someone was interested, but they wanted it all. They made Mamaw an offer she couldn’t refuse and because of the situation, she made the hard decision and sold it.

  Right after putting my parents in the ground, I had to help move Mamaw out of the family home—the same one I lived in when I was first born, the same place Dad was raised, and the same place he taught me how to snowboard. It wasn’t even two years later we buried Mamaw. The pain of burying her only child and selling the house took a toll. I believe she died of a broken heart.

  “I couldn’t justify spending more than the last offer. I mean, over a million dollars? I would’ve been scraping by for a long while. Whoever bought it was a soulless bastard. Even after Mr. Ellison set up a mediation to explain the importance, the other bidder raised the bid. I couldn’t touch it. I was done.”

  “One can hope for a broken leg that requires many surgeries and they’ll have to sell it to cover the costs.”

  “One can hope,” I sigh. “I’ve come to grips with the loss. It just sucks that I won’t be able to raise Maddi in the same house where her grandfather and great grandparents grew up. The same place I learned to board, busted my butt, broke an ankle and a wrist, but never gave up.”

  “You don’t need that house to teach her to be strong, Ave,” Raven’s tone is tender.

  A small smile stretches my lips. “I know. She’ll be strong without it, but it still would’ve been nice to have it back in the family.”

  “I know.”

  “I woulded done better with a burrito,” Maddi interrupts our heart to heart. “This thing keeps falling apart.”

  “Your momma tried telling you, but you’re too hardheaded to listen,” Raven beats me to it.

  Maddi’s blue eyes narrow, glaring at Raven. And if looks could talk, she’s tossing some major cuss words her way.

  I pull her plate to me and scoop all the food that hasn’t hit her mouth into the center. “Now you have a taco salad.”

  “No way! That’s how you make a taco salad? You just crumble it and mix it together? We need to have this more. And you can make the sauce. It’s really good. Could you make it? I can try to help.”

  “I could try,” I reply.

  “Tomorrow we’ll have taco salad and we’ll make the sauce.”

  “I’m not having tacos two days in a row,” I say.

  Raven gasps, fighting back a smile. “You won’t have tacos two days in a row? What’s wrong with you?” She feigns surprise. “I can’t believe I’m friends with you. Tacos are life.”

  “Yeah, Momma. Tacos are life,” Maddi repeats.

  I duck my head to hide my laugh. No way do I need to egg them on.

  “Hang that head in shame, Avery Taylor,” Raven tacks on.

  “Yeah. Shame.” Maddi follows suit.

  A brilliant and wicked idea hits me and I grin like the devil when I flick my view to Raven. “We all know you’re better in the kitchen than I am. Maddi has never tried your homemade salsa either. Come over and help us.”<
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  “Yeah!” Maddi squeaks her excitement. “We can have a cook off. Me and you against Momma.”

  Raven’s murdering me with a playful glare. “It wouldn’t be fair. I mean, I wouldn’t want to interrupt mother and daughter time.

  “But…that’s not fair. I can’t use the stove. I’ll lose if you don’t come. You have to so I can win,” Maddi plays her puppy dog eyes.

  I grin victoriously. My little girl just placed Raven in checkmate.

  Raven closes her eyes briefly. “Fine. I’ll be here tomorrow for tacos…again.”

  Maddi squeals.

  “Tacos are life,” I mock.

  Avery

  In two weeks’ time, I’ve managed to get this office under control. It’s not perfect, but at least I have a general idea of where the hell things are. After the third day of diving head first into this pit, I indeed figured out Lori’s rhyme and reason. I spent the next two days filing papers and invoices, which I despise. Then I spent another two going through open and closed invoice hell.

  She kept “closed and need to file” invoices on the corner of the desk and also by the filing cabinet. Open invoices were in four different stacks representing different due dates. I’m confused as to how Ryan is still in business if he’s not getting paid regularly.

  Last year’s invoices are stacked along the wall. Just sitting there doing nothing all the while my brother is oblivious to it. He runs a great company, but he seriously needs the right office help. Miranda tried but admitted she didn’t know how. And honestly, Lori should admit it too. I would help if I could, but when boarding season is in and competitions are plenty, I’m focused on my own job.

  “Knock, knock.” Ryan steps in and looks around with awe. “I knew you’d be the right person for the job.”

  “No. You knew this would drive me nuts. You tricked me. I’m onto you, butt-face.” I point at him with my pen. “Also, you need to get Lori to start invoicing correctly. Some of these date two months ago.”

  “Only certain customers. She’s not organized by any means, but I promise Lori knows what she’s doing.”

  I groan.

  He chuckles. “I need you.”

  “What’s new?” I deadpan.

  “Apparently whatever Marco had made its way to Abe. He’s out and I’ve got Lauder’s Winery again.”

  “Again? We just did it like two weeks ago,” I protest.

  “He’s picky and wants it manicured. Plus, a good dose of rain is always great for growing. Besides, I have a few other projects to knock out for him.”

  My sigh is exasperated. “Fine. But I’m stealing a clean hat this time.”

  “Why do you enjoy hiding yourself? You could be out there bringing in more business.”

  “Are you trying to pimp me?” I jest. “Jesus, Ryan.”

  “Not every day do I have a celebrity working for me.”

  I absolutely loathe when he starts in on this. It’s instant aggravation that rides down my spine like a stripper on a fireman pole. “Shut up.”

  “I can see it now.” He spreads his hands across the imaginary headlines in the sky. “Taylor’s Landscaping, home of pro-snowboarder, Aubrey Neal. Think of all the business, Ave.”

  Aubrey Neal—it’s a pseudonym Dad came up with to protect my anonymity. He saw the pro in me before I did.

  “Just because I’m pro doesn’t mean I’m a household name. It’s nothing that fancy.”

  “Just because you eat from the humble pie and fail to see that you are something doesn’t mean the same pie sits in front of me. I’m proud of you. Even after Mom and Dad died, you kept persevering and never gave up.”

  Flicking my view to him, sadness turns my lips. “I needed to focus on my anger and pain.”

  “You didn’t quit after having Maddi either. That’s a big obstacle.”

  “Mom and Dad would’ve haunted me if I did.”

  Ryan wraps his arms around my shoulders and hugs me. “They’d be so damn proud of you. Especially Dad.”

  “I know.” And I do. Sometimes I swear I can feel him, especially when my nerves begin to rattle at an event. I can hear him telling me, “Keep your weight over your board. Look where you’re going. Don’t be scared. And you’ll nail all the tricks.”

  Dad and I would spend hours at Mamaw’s house as he taught me how to board. He knew I was passionate about it and I knew he was too. He taught me everything he knew and then got me boarding lessons. Then he built a small training area behind the house that came equipped with rails, box rails, slopes, and a mini halfpipe…which was exactly where I fell in love with it.

  Mom was my biggest fan, even though riding gave her nothing short of a heart attack. She was there when I landed my first-ever three-sixty and the look on her face was priceless—a harsh concoction of excitement, fear, and sickness. She hugged me and told me how proud she was. Then she laughed and said I was grounded for two weeks for scaring her to death.

  My parents got to see me compete in my first competition. I was eaten up with nerves, shaking through every trick, but I came in sixth out of a hundred other kids. In my mind, I won that day.

  Unfortunately, they died in a horrific car accident before getting to see how far I’ve come. The night of the wreck, Ryan got the phone call. He was twenty-four, had his own place, but was out on a date with Miranda. I was younger and still lived with my parents. Ryan came to the house, and the look of pain and grief has forever been burned into my memory.

  I shake away the sorrow and paste a smile. “Let’s go.” Too much talk of my parents will throw me for a loop with sadness that tries pulling me into the depths of depression.

  Wrangling the thoughts of my parents and the worry of running into Max, I scroll through my social media again. My notifications are insane as my agent, Celeste, preps my fans for the Kid’s Bazaar in a few months. It’s a charity competition where all the proceeds go to help children with special needs and their family’s financial woes. It even allows free ski or snowboarding lessons or sledding for the children who are unable. I adore this fundraiser and even though it’s not a serious big-time competition, we all treat it as one to bring in more people. More people means more money, and more money means more help for those babies. Also, the bragging rights of who can shred better is always a plus.

  Ryan pulls up to the winery and I slide out of the truck, drawing my hat down low.

  “You’ll be with me,” he says as he stretches. “There’s an area behind the veranda terrace that Mr. Lauder would like stone crowns placed. Then there’s a small garden he wants defined with bluestone. And while I’m here, I need to quote a stoned seating area.”

  “You don’t want me to mow?” I hide the panic rushing me. “Marco can handle the stones better than I can.”

  He nudges me with his shoulder. “Scared you’ll get dirty?” he teases.

  “No,” I huff. “I’m just saying man muscles.”

  “You need a refresher course anyway so you don’t rust up on me.”

  My mouth quits working as I stare at his back when he walks away. My protest is stuck in my throat. I want to stomp my foot and demand I be allowed to mow, but I’m too busy feeling the dread soaking into my bones.

  This sucks.

  It’s hotter than hell as we border the garden and fight off the stupid bees attracted to Ryan’s neon orange shirt. He and I take turns lugging the heavy slates and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he chuckles every time I come back with three instead of his eight. Asshole. I tried telling him.

  “Mr. Taylor.”

  His voice melts me, warming my soul until the cold dread follows in its wake. I freeze, keeping my back toward him.

  “Mr. Lauder.” Ryan gets to his feet. “We’ve gotten the stone crown you requested laid down and as you can see, we’re halfway complete here.”

  Desperate to look too busy, I keep working, putting in extra effort. It’s a shit thing to do. I should be more polite and professional, and I would if it weren’t him.

&n
bsp; As I edge out the next area for stone to be laid, my skin prickles with unpredictable suspense. He’s right here. A few feet from me. The pull is there, my body eager to feel his hands on me again. If he only knew the woman he was hard for is in front of him on her knees in the dirt. I can’t breathe.

  “Hey, Ave. You got this under control for a minute?” Ryan asks and I flinch.

  “Of course.” I keep my head down.

  “Alright. I’ll be back in a few.”

  The breath I was holding whooshes out of me as they walk away. My body sags as relief releases the tension in my muscles and washes away the fear. I take a breath, lifting my chin slightly to see if the coast is clear before grabbing more stones.

  Ten slates later and one serious as hell conversation with a wasp to value his life and leave me alone, I can hear the distant rumbling of deep voices. Quickly, I grab several slates, almost dropping them as I trip over my own feet, and place them on the ground before kneeling beside them and busying myself again.

  “Avery. You hungry? Mr. Lauder said he’d have lunch fixed for us.”

  I’m starving, but I shake my head. “No. Thank you.”

  Ryan sighs. “Excuse my sister. She can be quite hardheaded.”

  Max’s deep chuckle washes over my skin and I fight off the shudder it causes. “My sister is the same. She also works with me, so I can relate.”

  Limb by limb, the restlessness slips away as they begin to walk away. My arms are weak and shaking as I get back to laying down the slates. Just then, the stupid wasp slams into my arm and stings the hell out of me.

  “Sonofabitch!” I cry out slapping the asshole dead and springing to my feet.

  “You alright?” Ryan rushes back.

  I jerk around and instantly lock eyes with Max. His left brow twitches as his eyes narrow slightly. I drop my view, holding my arm. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. Go grab lunch and I’ll finish up.”

  “There’s bee sting spray in the truck. Want me to get it?”