Page 43 of Total Abandon

“Bit of both, actually. For instance, Mrs. Arndale around the corner had some old pipe on her back porch, so she asked me to come round and see what could be done.” Tilly lets out a strangled, high-pitched sound before slapping her hand over her mouth.

“And how do you feel about that, Mom?” Cade asks innocently, almost burying his face in his plate as he leans over to push his food around it with a fork.

“Oh well, you know. There aren’t many hand jobs waiting for him at home these days, so it’s good he keeps busy,” she says with sparkling eyes, lifting her glass to her lips to hide her smile.

“What the fuck?” I mutter quietly, burying my head in my hand and refusing to look Zeke’s way.

“She’s just happy I’m out of the house most of the day.” Dad nods. “You see, it’s not how quickly you can get a hand job done. It’s all about taking the time to do it properly.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Zeke deadpans, lifting his bottle of beer to my father in a toast. I peek sideways at him with a pleading look and see he’s straight faced, but his eyes are glittering like a night sky filled with stars.

My dad makes a complimentary noise. “It’s nice to meet a man who can appreciate a quality hand job well done. It’s not a skill set everyone possesses these days.”

“I don’t know, I reckon Tilly is pretty good at them by now,” Cade drawls.

Mom snorts into her water and it’s the permission everyone needs to descend into hysterics. Cade presses the heels of his palms into his eyes as he howls and Tilly snorts with unrestrained glee. Mortified as I am, I’m unable to prevent my own giggle from bubbling up at the look of pure confusion on my dad's face. Zeke’s deep laughter joins the ensemble, throwing a thick blanket of warmth across my chest.

“You’re all fucking nuts.” Dad sighs, resigning to ignore his hysterical family and eat his dinner.

Chapter 20

Lucian Driver:Heading to Darién Gap tomorrow. Expect me to be out of touch.

Chloe:I’ll be out late, sweetums. Don’t wait up.

Zeke:Wasn’t planning on it, sugar tits.

Chloe:Rude. Minus 1000 fiancé points.

Zeke:You lose at least 100 for having posters of Justin Timberlake in your bedroom.

Chloe:I gain points for that. He’s hot. Ramen noodle fringe and all.

Zeke:If you say so. Where are you?

Chloe:Got a hot date with a smoking brunette.

Zeke:Do I need to remind you of our terms?

Chloe:So sue me, papi.

ZEKE

The tinkling keys of piano music waft across the dimly lit room, finding their way to where I’m standing by the bar of the Chilson House—a members-only watering hole for Manhattan’s elite.

“So, as soon as you get what you need on your father, the girl is gone?” Mason Walker takes a measured sip of his scotch, steely ice blue eyes surveying the room over the crystal rim.

I pull in another sip of tequila and swallow, running my tongue over my teeth irritably as the burn fades. “That’s the plan.” Liquor traces a warm path down my chest and into my gut, where it sits heavy against the leaden brick wedged there, I suspect from this conversation. It’s bad enough that I’m strapped into this monkey suit and forced to attend tonight’s gala for some good cause I can’t remember, let alone talking about a certain fiery redhead who has taken up permanent real estate in my mind.

Her presence in my home has been surprisingly tolerable. More than tolerable, if I’m honest. I find myself wondering if she’s there as I take the elevator up at night. Damn it,hopingshe is. The place feels brighter with her around. Her cat, on the other hand, who has decided to take up residency in my study half the damn time, I could happily do without.

This is the closest I’ve been to a love-sick puppy in my life, and I can only attribute it to the fact she’s avoided my advances. Wanting what you can’t have is human nature, of which I am as susceptible to as the next. Especially when I’m on a sex ban. I blow out a sharp breath through my nostrils, scowling. Whilst being mostly sure she was teasing about having a date, the thought takes root in the back of my throat and burns all the same.

“Where is Chase tonight?” I want to believe I’m asking just because, but in reality, I’m wanting to rule out she’s with him.

“Out with Mia.” Mason grunts, throwing the rest of his scotch back bitterly. I chuckle without much humor, my gaze catching on Sacha Erickson, partner of one of Manhattan’s largest advertising firms. Her hazel eyes zero in on mine across the room and she offers me a coy smile. Brunette, busty, smart, and excellent in bed—she’s exactly what I would usually be doing to distract myself. But tonight, I’m on a leash. Dipping my head briefly in acknowledgement, I look away.

“You know he sees her as a sister, right?” I slide my gaze sideways as Mason grumbles unintelligibly and lifts his empty glass, catching the eye of a server who saunters over to collect it. She’s young, blonde, and gazing up at us like we were the first men on the moon. Usually this would be amusing. But tonight? I find myself thinking how much I prefer the sharp scorn Miss Devlin throws my way. Her eye rolling, her huffing and puffing—like I’m the world's biggest nuisance. Or the way her ocean blue eyes flutter beneath her caramel lashes as she succumbs to an orgasm. Her breath catching in her heaving chest, her rose pink lips parted and there for the taking… And now I’m hard.