“I’m not worried about any of it. I’ve had all the regrets I’m going to have and none of them involve you.”
Our eyes locked, her gaze softening as she leaned gently against my shoulder. “I love you, come shower with me.”
I knew the significance of what she was asking, having told me that previously it had been a no-go zone for other men. I’d been the only one, and while our first shower hadn’t gone so well, I was hopeful for the future. “You know, I’m never going to ask anything more from you than you’re ready to give me, Presley. I’ll wait, for however long it takes. But if you offer me something, I’m not ever turning it down.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement, pressing her lips softly against my neck. “Good, then come shower with me. And then, we’ll work out the rest as we go.”
“You said that to me once before, you know,” I reminded her, wondering how much of an idiot I’d been for fighting her from the start. “You said it wouldn’t get serious. We’d stay friends.”
Her shoulder lifted gently as she chuckled. “Guess I lied. We were never just friends. But I promise, it will be the first and the last one I ever tell you. You forgive me?”
“You’re right, Presley.” I kissed her. “We were never just friends.”
Jared
THERE WAS LITERALLY a handful of miles between Diablo and Vault aka Diablo 2.0. But in Manhattan, it made all the difference.
The meatpacking district was a different kind of animal, the cliental ready to spend their hard-earned green on the next shiny thing. It was stockbrokers, models, and people who wanted to be seen. They traveled in packs, documented everything, and were more interested in getting in where others couldn’t, than having a good time.
It had taken Presley exactly eight months to open, when everyone had told her it was almost impossible. Between building permits, the interior fit out and the liquor license, it was cutting it close for sure. But Presley Tibbs never backed away from a challenge, especially one where the odds were stacked against her.
“Wow, it looks like a bank vault.” Evans’s eyes widened, seeing the inside for the first time. “How the hell did she get all this shit fabricated in such a short amount of time?”
“My sister’s a genius, Rookie.” Tibbs handed him a beer. “Which is why she’d never have dated you.” Tibbs winked at me.
“Dude, I haven’t been the rookie in six months. I thought we were done with that shit when we got Rizzo,” Evans protested, not sharp enough to know the more he complained the more Tibbs was going to give him.
Tibbs eyed him hard, pointing his long neck at him. “Well, Rizzo isn’t here, and we outrank you. Anyway, you should count yourself lucky you even got an invite. You know how hard it is to score one for tonight? If it weren’t for us, your ass would be on the sidewalk with all those other losers waiting to get in.”
He was right about that. Opening night for a new club in the Meatpacking district was like a fire sale on iPhones, everyone wanted in on it. Add in Diablo’s reputation and that Scott Collins and his posse were special guests, and you had a line down the block that could fill the place ten times over.
“Where is the genius?” North asked, clapping my shoulder. “Ava’s teething and Quinn has an early shoot in the morning. I need to go charm my little girl to sleep.”
“She’s with David Cheng, her business partner. He flew in yesterday from Hong Kong.” I pointed to Presley at the far end of the club. She was wearing that gold dress that drove me crazy and a diamond ring I’d slipped on her finger earlier in the day that was an extra special accessory.
We hadn’t announced it yet, not wanting it to overshadow the opening, but we weren’t denying it either. Raelle had spotted it right away, Vault’s bar manager screaming and pointing to it the minute we’d walked in. Tibbs knew I was going to ask, my intention to marry his sister, something I hadn’t bothered to hide.
I’d had the ring for a month, looking for the right time to ask. Considering we were already living together, I assumed the answer was going to be yes. But even a cocky asshole knew there was always a small possibility of a no. Maybe she wasn’t ready for it or maybe she didn’t want the piece of paper. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me, deciding I’d waited long enough and finally got down on one knee in her bathroom that morning. It felt like the right place for it, and I was more than ready to have her wear my ring.
The yes had come without a second of hesitation, making the opening night of Vault one we were never going to forget. That and I couldn’t wait to have sex with my fiancée in her new office, but we’d do that after David left.
Fiancée. Man, I loved saying that word. The only one I liked better was wife, but it was going to be a year before I could say that. Presley had a tough twelve months ahead of her, managing two clubs wasn’t for the faint hearted, but I didn’t doubt she’d rock it. But waiting also meant that when we finally did take the walk down the aisle, we’d be able to take a honeymoon too. It had to be somewhere hot and near a beach, requiring the least amount of clothes possible. Other than that, I didn’t care, with no intention to sightsee, other than the inside of our hotel room.
“Anyone hear from Chief?” Evans asked. “Is he stopping by?”
North laughed, shaking his head. “Evans, Hayden is due any day now, he isn’t going anywhere. And you guys thought I was bad when Quinn was pregnant, Mack takes that shit to a whole new level.”
Other than Presley’s new club opening, there had been some other changes as well. Mack got Hayden pregnant almost immediately, the idea North could be dethroned as Mack’s favorite kid, a very real possibility. And I moved into Presley’s fancy loft, leaving Tibbs in need of a new roommate. Evans was itching to take my old room, but Tibbs was holding out. I didn’t know if it was to piss him off or because he’d gotten used to living alone, but either way it was entertaining to watch.
“Hey, is everyone having a good time?” My future wife—okay so maybe I was already saying it—sidled up next to me. “Make sure you try some of Scott’s wine, he donated thirty cases of it.”
“Thirty cases?” I raised an eyebrow. “A little excessive, don’t you think? One might think he is trying to charm you.”
“He’s already tried and failed, Leighton. No need to get territorial.” She grinned, rubbing a hand down my chest.
Of all the problems in my world, Scott Collins wasn’t one of them, but I’d be a fucking moron to think he wouldn’t try.
Presley was the whole package, and any man would give their right arm to have her. I still don’t know how any of her ex-boyfriends could’ve walked away. All of them fucking idiots, and I was eternally grateful for their stupidity.
But of all the dumbasses, there was only one I truly hated, the dickstain who was still serving time for attempted murder, aggravated assault, kidnapping, and a few other crimes. He literally had more charges against him than braincells, his future including a jumpsuit and cell bars. And if he ever got out, there’d be a welcome party waiting for him that would have him begging to go back in.