Tangled (20 page)

“Finish
setting the table.”

Tony
watched as their mother ascended the free-floating staircase. “What’d you do?”

Tess
bristled. “Why does it always have to be me?”

“Because
it always is. She was in a good mood before she went to get you.”

“Don’t
worry about it.”

He
scratched his head. “When are you going to stop punishing her?”

“Are
you seriously coming at me with that right now?”

“Cut
her some slack. Yeah, she won’t be winning any mother-of-the-year awards, but
we’re not too bad off. So get over it already.”

Tess
felt the needle gauging her what-the-fuck-o-meter maxing out. Her brother, who
up until now had been her staunchest advocator, was chastising her? Since when
did he become the voice of reason?

“Tony!
Get up here and clean up your room!” her mother yelled from the top floor.

“Ma,
come on! It’s just a dinner.”

“Now!”

He
shot Tess a reproachful look, as if his sloppiness was a consequent of her
actions, before rushing off to complete the task.

As
much as it set her teeth on edge, he was right. Maybe if she spent her energy
trying to repair burned bridges instead of stomping on the ashes, she wouldn’t
have to plan how to avoid her mother over breaks.

After
a few last minute preparations, everyone settled down at the table.

“Before
we begin,” Ray said, “I’d just like to say how grateful I am to have all of you
in my life. I love you more than words can express.”

Maia
covered his hand with hers, her expression gentle. “We love you too.”

Where
did this ‘we’ word come from?

Eyes
resting softly on his wife, Ray hoisted his glass. “To family. May we always
stick together, for better or worse.
”

Tess
resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, but participated in the toast. The cider
left an acrid aftertaste on her tongue. Not for the first time she wished there
was alcohol in the penthouse. It was one of Ray’s few rules. Alcoholic beverages
were prohibited in his household. He claimed that he didn’t condone underage
drinking, but they all knew the real reason.

As
if that would stop their mother from hitting up the corner store if she fell
off the wagon.

Maia
giggled as Ray fed her a forkful of his homemade stuffing. Tess shot her
brother an exasperated look, but he was too busy scrolling through his phone.

She
wondered if it’d be rude if she excused herself to get her own. “This is
delicious, Ray,” Tess announced generously. “I think you missed your calling.”

He
started, caught off guard by her civility. For some reason, it pinched a nerve.
“It’s nothing. Just a hobby.”

“What
do you all want to do for Christmas?” Maia asked. “I’m thinking we take a trip
to Rockefeller Center and see the tree.”

“Ma,
we’re not tourists,” Tony griped in between mouthfuls of fried turkey.

“Doesn’t
matter. I want us to start a tradition of our own.” Her mother deferred to Ray.
“How does the 23
^rd
sound?”

Fidgeting,
Ray adjusted his tie. “I won’t be able to make it. I’m having dinner with one
of my associates and his wife. We can go another time.”

The
nervous tic made Tess’s eyes narrow. “Is this dinner a double date?”

He
didn’t look at her. “No, just a meeting between coworkers. We’ll just be
talking shop.”

The
lie stunk to high heaven and back. “So why can’t you bring your wife?” she
parried, unwilling to drop the subject.

“Tess,
give it a rest,” Maia instructed sharply.

“No,
I’m curious.” She sat back and draped her napkin beside her plate. “Is it
because your wife isn’t good enough? Are you afraid she won’t be able to keep
up with the conversation? Or is she purely ornamental?”

Maia’s
chair squealed as it scraped the hardwood floor. “Tess, may I have a word with
you?” Her tone brooked no argument.

She
sullenly scooted back from the table and joined her mother in the kitchen.

“What
the hell do you think you’re doing?” Maia hissed.

“Standing
up for you since you can’t do it for yourself.”

“Don’t
give me that crap. This is about you making a fool of your stepfather and
humiliating me.” She massaged her temples. “This is just like you.”

“Like
me how? Calling your husband out because he’s obviously ashamed of you?”

“Stop
it! Just stop,” she said, lowering her voice.

“So
this is what I get for trying to help,” Tess said sourly.

“This
isn’t you helping. It’s you taking your insecurities out on us. Yes,
insecurities,” she reiterated at her shocked expression. “I know you like to
think otherwise, but I do know my own daughter. You can be overbearing,
selfish, and impulsive when you want something. You push until there’s no more
room to give.”

Fury
whipped through Tess. “I do it for you.”

“No,
you do it for yourself. And when you don’t get your way, you sabotage. This is
you sabotaging and I need you to stop. I’m happy. I love Ray and neither of us is
going anywhere. If you can’t handle that, maybe you should move out.”

“Maybe
I will.” Blood roaring, Tess charged out of the kitchen. She ignored whoever
called her name, grabbed her keys and phone from her room, and slammed out of
the penthouse. Blowing past the confused doorman, she stormed down the sidewalk.
Anger armored her against the penetrating cold and biting crosswind.

Tears
stung the backs of her eyes.

She
couldn’t believe her mother wanted her gone for coming to her defense. Wasn’t
that what family was supposed to do?

Somewhere
along her scavenging climb to the top, Maia had apparently forgotten the
meaning of the word. Her mother made it more than clear that the only thing she
cared about was making
hubbie
happy, even if it meant
discarding her own flesh and blood.

Tess
may be headstrong and a saboteur, but she would never allow someone to use her as
a doormat. She was worth more than that.

Too
bad the only thing her mother was good for was spreading her legs.

Her
conscience flogged her for the cruel thought.

Whatever.
She didn’t care.

Tess
would always land on her feet.

With or without the aid of her purported
family.

Chapter 11

Cameron
chucked his keys onto the end table. Sometimes he really hated the holidays.
Instead of catering the event at home like a normal family, his mother had
elected to host Thanksgiving at the country club.

Her
excuse?

She
hadn’t felt like putting up with scores of quibbling, intoxicated relatives.

The
venue change did little to distill hostilities crossing extended family lines,
especially toward his father. Those on his mother’s side never missed an
opportunity to rub his father’s hippie lineage in his face. So what if his
paternal grandparents were former flower power children.

As
the favored grandson/nephew/cousin, even Cameron wasn’t exempt from the firing
squad. He spent the bulk of the evening fending off inquiries about his
prospects for the future: if he’d started studying for the LSAT, his plans for
law school, what type of law he wanted to practice, why he didn’t know what
type of law he was going to practice.

He
was tired of talking about a future already set in stone. Why couldn’t they
ever be satisfied with the present? Cameron didn’t even know if he wanted to go
into law, not that he’d ever clue them in on that uncertainty. His
grandfather
was
already two steaks away
from a massive coronary
.

He
was only happy that access to his trust wasn’t contingent on a career in the
legal field. It was the one ballsy act his spineless, whipping boy of a father had
ever rebelled against the family for on Cameron’s behalf.

His
phone vibrated with a text from Tess.
You done with dinner?

Yeah I’m at the brownstone.
What’s up?

I need to talk to you.

Foreboding
prickled his skin.
You ok?

I need a place to crash for
the night.

Is everything ok?

She
didn’t send a reply text.

What’d
she get caught up in now?

Cameron
combed the house. The housekeeper had been through earlier, so it wasn’t a
total sty. Once the house achieved a passable state of cleanliness, Cameron
jumped into the shower. He’d just finished dressing when a festive carillon of bells
pealed, announcing his guest.

Grinning,
he answered the door.

An
angry streak of red and white plaid whirred past him before he could open his
mouth. “I swear, you can bend over backwards for someone and still end up
getting stabbed in the back.”

He
blinked, failing to follow her logic. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

Tess
rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cam. Happy Thanksgiving. I didn’t mean to just
barge in you on like this. I’ve just had twenty-something blocks to stew on
this.”

“Twenty
blocks?” He scowled, taking in her windblown hair and red, chill-stung cheeks.
“You walked?”

She
shrugged. “I left in a hurry and didn’t bring money for the train.”

“Or
a coat.” He dragged her into him and touched her jaw. Her skin felt like ice.
“Jesus, Tess. You’re freezing.”

“And
you’re so warm.” He flinched as she tucked her cold face into his neck.

“Come
on.” Snaking an arm around her waist, Cameron led her to his room. He swiped a
blanket from his closet and secured it around her shoulders. “I’ll be right
back.”

Taking
a seat at the head of the bed, she nodded and blew through her cupped hands.

Cameron
loped down the stairs to the mini bar. Although his parents owned the place,
they rarely stayed over. His mother preferred the house in Nassau for
entertainment purposes and his father had a bought an apartment closer to his
firm’s Midtown office a few years ago.
 

He
prepped her drink and made his way back upstairs. Swaddled in a sea of blue
cashmere, Tess was where he’d left her.

Cameron
handed her the mug. “Watch out. It’s hot.”

“Thanks.”
She held the cup under her nose and let steam perforate her shriveled pores.
“What’d you put in it?”

“Amaretto,
Kahlua, vanilla, and cocoa powder.”

With
a cooling breath, she brought it to her lips. Her approving moan jolted
straight to his cock. Her eyes closed as her mouth hooked into a serene smile.
“This is amazing.”

Cameron
adjusted his line of sight, and his pants, before sprawling next to her. “What’s
wrong?”

Her
shoulders curled inward defensively. Cameron listened as she recounted the
sordid details of the dinner. By the end, moisture clumped her lashes. “I just
don’t understand what she wants from me,” she warbled and placed the empty mug
on his nightstand.

Cameron
tugged her down. She collapsed into his arms without protest. “If you want my
unprofessional opinion, I think your mom just wants you to accept who she is.”

“I
have.”

“Really?”

“Mostly.
It’s not like I say anything about her sham marriage.”

“Ah,
ah, that’s judging. You wouldn’t do that if you really accepted her.”

“I
guess.” Tess rubbed her eyes. “I just can’t believe she told me to move out.”

“It’s
not like she kicked you out.”
 

“She
may as well have,” she intoned.

“What
do you want?” he asked. “Do you want to move out?”

“I
can barely afford to pay the college’s room and board. I’m not really in a
position to fly the coop just yet.”

“Whatever
you choose to do, you know you always have a place here,” he said offhandedly.

She
looked up at him. “I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“I
don’t care. And it’s not like my parents are ever here.” He nuzzled the
juncture of her shoulder. “It would just be us,” Cameron mouthed into her skin.

She
shivered, his lips burning through her faster than the alcohol. “Don’t you
think it’s a little soon to be moving in together?”

“I’m
just saying. Worst case scenario.”

“So
me living with you would be a worst case scenario,” she teased.

“I
don’t know.” He rubbed his chin. “A live-in maid doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

Tess
laughed. “I’m not washing your dirty boxers.”

Cameron
brought her forward until their noses bumped. “I’d pay you. In sex.”

Her
breathing became ragged. “I don’t know. I’d need a demonstration first.”

Smiling,
Cameron closed in. Her mouth was petal soft, just like the rest of her,
including the parts she hid. He loved that she entrusted those pieces of
herself to him. He alone knew the girl beneath the tough exterior.
 

Their
lips moved lazily against one another, languishing in drowsy warmth. His hands
sifted through her glossy curls as their tongues mingled.

She
tasted of chocolate, toasted almond, and sweet liqueur. Heat rode hard through
him. The cells in his body expanded, hard wiring every synapse to her. She
called out to him in the most natural of ways: the rapid tattoo of her
heartbeat fluttering against his chest, the wandering course of her hands, the
wild, heady scent of wild berries.

Suddenly
just kissing wasn’t enough.

They
kicked off the blanket and struggled laughingly to divest each other of their
shirts.

Cameron
drizzled kisses along the centerline of her flat abdomen. She giggled as his
tongue swiveled into her navel. Grinning into her skin, he ran a hand up her
smooth leg. “Mm, prickly.”

She
laughed. “Shut up!” He evaded her weak attempt to hit him. Mouth latching back
onto her skin, he shifted operations northbound.

His
eyes lifted to hers in askance when he came to her bra.

“Allow
me.” In no time, Tess shed the lacy contraption and pulled him on top of her.
Although they’d passed second base weeks ago, the electric shock of her bare
breasts pressed against his chest made his erection swell hotter, tighter.

He
sucked softly on her bottom lip before nipping a path down her neck.
 

He
drifted over the delicate arch of her collarbone. For a second, another man’s
marks mottling her skin filled his vision. Tamping the dark, primitive urge to
mark his territory, Cameron redirected himself to her bare breasts.

Ample
and perky, they’d haunted his fantasies long before they’d gotten together.

His
mouth closed over her coral-tipped nipple. Hissing, her hands plunged into his
hair. He coaxed the curious bud until it hardened under his tongue before
biting and tugging lightly. Her body trembled under him.
 

He
ignored the painful throb of his arousal, intent on driving her to the brink.
Cameron kept his eyes centered on hers as his hand ventured between her satiny
thighs. Her erratic breaths seized. Her tendons shuddered with anticipation as
he drew closer to her dark, welcoming heat.

His
phone’s ringtone disrupted the moment.
 

“Ignore
it.” The need garbling her voice nearly led to his undoing.

“Planning
on it.” Cameron reached over to silence the cell. Paralysis delayed the action
at the name aglow on the screen. If she was calling it could only mean one
thing. He answered without preamble. “What is it?”

“Where
are you?”

 
“In the city. Why?”

“He’s
out of control and I don’t know what to do.” Despite the measured cadence of
her words, he sensed the undertone of desperation. “Someone already threatened
to call the cops. He won’t calm down. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

Was
it so much to ask that Adonis behave himself for one night? “I’m a little busy
at the moment. Can it wait?”

“No,
Cam. It can’t. Please.”

The
sonorous plea booted his lethargic conscience from inertia. Maybe Adonis would
be better off in police custody because he was two seconds from killing the man
himself. “Fine,” he gritted. “Stay put. I’ll be there in fifteen.” Cameron hung
up. “I’ve got to go.”

Tess
burrowed her fingers into his hair and grazed his scalp with her nails. “What’s
wrong?”

Aggravation
puddling
under her touch, he dropped his forehead
against her stomach. His body ached to finish what they’d started. God, he
wanted her more than anything, but fate seemed cruelly determined to shorthand
him.

“It’s
nothing I can’t handle.” With a gargantuan amount of willpower, Cameron pried
himself away. “Stay here until I get back?”

“I’ll
think about it.”

He
threw on a shirt and stole one last kiss. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“You’d
better.” Her smile vanished the instant she heard the front door slam.

Body
wound tight, Tess wanted to break something.
Of all the times
to be interrupted.
Her only consolation was that Cameron had been
equally pissed off, if not more.