Read Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1) Online

Authors: Tiana Laveen

Tags: #Fiction

Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1) (19 page)

BOOK: Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1)
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“You don’t have to explain.”

“I’m not, well, yeah, I am, but this feels good, you know? It doesn’t feel forced. It just—”

“Feels right.” She smiled.

“Yeah, it just feels right. You’re real good company, you know that?
Real
good.”

She rested her hand against his shoulder. He turned and looked at it, then delicately picked it up, held it in his palm, and gave her fingers a gentle kiss.

“I haven’t been on a good date in a long time, Sloan. This is definitely A+ in my book. You were a treat! You are considerate and very funny!” she said, meaning every word. “You really make for a great companion as well. Thank you…” They locked gazes.

“I’m glad you had a good night with me, Emerald. From what we discussed earlier, I know you work hard and sometimes people just need a rest, to have some fun.”

“It was more than fun. It was an adventure.” She lowered her hand and took his into her grasp. “Sloan, you are such a sweetie, you know that?” The big, brawny man with the intense facial expressions seemed to be fighting himself right before her eyes. It was as if there were things he wanted to say, but didn’t, and things he didn’t want to say, but did… just like when he’d told her he didn’t want her to leave…

“I don’t really look at myself as a sweetie.” They both chuckled at his declaration. “But thanks all the same. Look…” He ran his thumb against the side of his nose curing an itch. “Call me when you get home so I can make sure you got in okay. All right?”

“You’re quite protective, aren’t you?” Amused, she pushed her key fob. “First the grocery store, now this.”

“Yeah, I am, and I’m proud of that, actually.”

Her chest tightened as her heart swelled. Damn, did he truly possess the beautiful soul he exhibited? Only time would tell.

“Well.” He sighed. “I guess I’ll let you go and we can figure out what we’re going to do on Tuesday. I have to get back home, too, even though I didn’t want to and was planning to play hooky with you. I’m behind on everything, it seems.” He ran his hand smoothly through his dark tresses.

“I bet. Speaking of home, we never really discussed what part of town you’re in. Where do you stay?”

“Over on Glen Falls.”

She tapped her finger against her lower lip, mulling over the answer. “Glen Falls? Hmmm, okay, you’re in one of the main historic districts. There’s like only five or six houses over there, mostly woods, the stream… big, nice houses, too. The land is private so no one is allowed to hunt or fish over there.”

“Right.” He nodded in agreement.

“Wow! I’ve always liked it over there.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. I’d like you to come over sometime. Maybe I could cook us some dinner, give you a wine lesson… possibly we could even take a nice walk around the lake then watch a movie.”

“Yeah? That sounds pretty nice.” She winked at him as she opened her car door, hating that she had to get inside. They’d both been stalling to death, delaying the inevitable. Before she could complete the pass, he grabbed the handle from her and ushered the door farther open, helping her along.

“See? Such a gentleman.” She smiled at him before taking her seat. After getting settled, she looked into his eyes, his face so close to hers, she could see all the intricate details of his skin now under the overhead parking lot lights. A few light freckles dotted his cheeks, a deep smile line on the right side of his mouth, a prominent widow’s peak that was a bit longer down one side than the other… What a beautiful man he truly was. “I promise to call you, Sloan. I’d be a fool not to.” She winked at him again, feeling flirty.

“That’s what I want to hear. All right, catch you later.” He winked back and turned to walk away.

“Wait.” She opened the door wider and curled her finger in a beckoning gesture. He looked at her from over his shoulder. “Come back for a second. You forgot something.”

He walked back up to her, his hands in his pockets, and leaned down towards her.

“Yeah? What’d I forget?” Gently wrapping her hands around his face, she drew him in and landed a kiss against his soft mouth. Her heart chimed as he slid his hand possessively around her neck, drawing her impossibly closer, and returned the favor with much vigor.

Warm puffs of air bathed her mouth as he uttered, “Open your mouth wide and let me
in
…”

She did as ordered and closed her eyes hard when she felt him slide his thick, long tongue inside, moving it slowly along her own, kissing her with the passion of a million men. When he finally released her, she was dizzy. He stood straight, gave a lazy wave, and simply walked away like not a damn thing had happened. She watched his perfect ass as he swaggered away, his steps confident as always.

His shoulders broad and his back straight, he kept on moving until he was nothing more than a shadow against the kiss of the night. Starting her car, she pulled up a few feet, catching him getting into a classic, shiny black Eldorado, then roll the top down. Music poured out of his vehicle—the smooth sounds of, ‘Let’s Stay Together’ by Al Green. He began to back out of his parking space, and she made haste to get out of there, too, to stop this lustful staring-fest she’d began the moment she’d seen him walking towards her for their date.

After she’d gotten home, kicked off those ‘break your neck in a thousand pieces’ shoes, and wobbled on sore, swollen and red feet into her bedroom, she dropped onto her bed like a sack of potatoes, then burst out laughing. She had no idea why, but she found herself in a giddy mood, seasoned with wine. She put their damn good conversation on mental rewind, over and over.

Later, much later, she gained her composure and took the necessary steps to put a stop sign on thoughts of the date, regardless of the fact she was still flying high. After shimmying out of her dress, she removed her earrings and necklace and set them on her dresser. Her fingers itched to get a hold of her phone, and as soon as she was settled, she gave the man a call.

On the third ring, a deep, soothing voice picked up. “You’re safe and sound, right?” The Floaters crooned ‘Float On’ in the background at his home.

“Right.” She smiled, gently rubbing up and down her ankle as she sat naked on the foot of her bed.
He’s got excellent taste in music…
“Thanks again for tonight. The food was good, the wine was great, the show was amazing, and talking to you was so refreshing.” She began to massage the balls of her feet, working out a cramp that made promises of not going away anytime soon.

“I already said it a million times, but you know I feel the same way and I can’t wait to see you Tuesday night. I know I suggested cooking and you coming over, but it’s your call. We can do that another time. You have an idea of what you might want to get into?”

“You know, I was thinking about that on my drive home. I think you need me to take you on that tour of Maxim we mentioned. We could get something to eat at one of my favorite restaurants right afterward, make a late afternoon and evening of it right after I get off work. Just give me a little time to go home, freshen up and change, then I’m all yours.”

“Oh yeah, then you’re mine… Sounds good. I’d like that.” The unmistakable tone of seduction in his voice thrilled her. “Can I pick you up this time after you’re all changed or am I still in the ‘unknown’ man danger zone?” he teased.

She chuckled. “Yes, you can pick me up, Sloan. I’ll text you my address.”

“I was just going to suggest that. All right.” The man yawned. “Feel free to call me before then… to talk, whatever.”

“I’ll do that. Goodnight, Sloan.”

“ ’Night, Emerald. By the way, you have one of the
sexiest
asses I’ve ever seen. Wish I could use it as a pillow… Matter of fact, Sealy should use your behind as a prototype.” And then, he hung up, leaving her sitting there with her mouth wide open until she fell back in a fit of laughter…

CHAPTER TEN

Snakes in the Grass… Boom! A Loud Crash.

W
hat a way
to spoil a good mood.

Sloan looked at his son in complete disbelief that Sunday morning. He’d slept like a baby, for the first time in a long ass time. He’d spent the previous evening with a beautiful woman and had secured future dates with her. When his son had called as soon as he dozed off in the beginning stages of rest, he agreed without hesitation to the visit but as he sat here and looked at the young man, he regretted letting him come. He had no idea where Joel had found this damn bone to keep digging up, making life harder than it had to be. The moment they got in the same room together, the arguments would start once again…

“Joel, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He took a long draw of his cigarette. “I’m pouring these feelings into my work, staying out of everyone’s way, but then I get reminded of why I feel like I do, no matter how many times I try to get out of my
own
way, like having to send your mother alimony while she screws my old friend that I used to work with at the—”

“At the Wall Street Journal! Here we go again!” Joel slammed his open hand onto the kitchen wall. “You never talk about you and Mom, not really the heart of the matter, but me and Michelle have to hear about how you believe you were double crossed time and time again.”

“This is what you wanted, though. You asked me to talk about your mother again, when I already told you I didn’t want to. So now you’re complaining that I’m doing just that.”

“I did, and I also asked for a lot of explanations from you.”

“Like what?” He glared down into his coffee cup, noting it was empty, but he was far too exhausted to get up for a refill.

“I’ve asked about Grandma, about all sorts of things, but you never talked about her, either. You avoid any discussion that makes you appear human, so why start now?” His son’s eyes grew dark with shadows of hurt and anger. “Dad, what the hell does all of this have to do with you running away, moving in here, then denying that there are some things we just can’t explain?” He took a step closer, his voice calm now, almost peaceful.

“What does it really matter, Joel? In the end, it doesn’t mean jack shit, quite honestly.” He smashed his cigarette butt into the ashtray.

“To admit science can’t explain everything, that smart, prize winning, brilliant Sloan Steele with the journalism degree, the guy who interviewed terrorists, killers, and kidnapping victims, can’t explain everything is scary, huh? Mom, me, Michelle, all of this…” His son looked around the room, then back at him. “Something bigger is going on here. This isn’t just a relocation, a place to clear your head and start fresh. It’s so much more.”

Sloan rolled his eyes, then closed them tight, letting his head fall back against his chair as if all the fight had drained out of him, replaced by boredom.

“What is it then, Joel?” he questioned wearily.

“You moved away from
us
.” He jammed his finger into his chest. “From yourself, from everything. It’s almost karmic, but I guess you think that’s a bunch of bull, too.”

“You think I don’t believe in mysteries and things that are stranger than fiction?” He slowly opened his eyes and glared at his son. “Like hell I don’t because I sure can’t explain why the woman I gave
every
thing to was never satisfied. It’s like one of the seven fucking wonders of the goddamn world!”

“I don’t want to talk about Mom right now. I’ve changed my mind.” Joel lifted his chin high and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Too damn bad. You wanted it, you got it. You opened this rusty can of worms; now they’re crawlin’ out and ready to have their say. Want to know what’s in my heart? What troubled me?” He stabbed at his chest with his index finger, causing himself a bit of discomfort as he crushed the muscle beneath his shirt.

“I suppose it’s still too late to say no? The worms are determined, right?” Joel snapped sarcastically.

“Let me tell you what I went through with that woman, and this is the condensed version, so you listen and you listen good.” He snatched another cigarette out of its container, flicked his sleek black lighter and pushed the tip to the dancing flame. “Let’s begin with the nonstop materialism, which was her running theme of life.” He took a long hard drawl from the thing and tapped his foot, as if a song were beginning, a rhythm to help him keep tempo. “For example, your mother wanted a bigger house… boom!” He slammed his fist against the table, ignoring how his son’s eyes rolled. “I got it for her.”

“…Yes…yes, we all know…” Joel sighed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest and his head down as if he had not one ounce of energy to listen to such rubbish. “Dad, please don’t do this.”

Ignoring his son’s pleas, he continued. “Your mother wanted new cars, nothin’ second hand. Ohhh no!” He waved his hand dramatically about, the smoke from his cigarette gamboling away into nothingness as he moved. “She couldn’t have that, fuhget about it! Somethin’ someone else sat their keister in was a no motherfucking go. So what I’d do? Spoiled tha shit outta her. Got her a BMW fresh off the lot and then the red Audi not too long after. This all transpired while I drove my beat-up Ford Focus for years… the one with the rust stains and cracked windshield. How’d you think I felt balled up in that little ass thing?

BOOK: Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1)
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