Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Dominic

The next day, Oliver and I drive out to check on the progress of several new properties scattered across Washington State. By Friday noon, we’ve made our way to Spokane and stopped for lunch at a pub the locals swear has the state’s best pizza. After debating, we agreed that wasn’t quite true, but they were pretty damn close.

We could have planned something more efficient than a multiday road trip, I suppose, but I don’t often get to hang out with my best friend someplace that’s not the office or my daughters’ tea parties. And if I’m being totally honest, I also wanted a chance to clear my head and figure shit out about Presley, which is hard to do when I see her all day, every day, at work.

“What do you think of the town?” I ask, draining the last of my wheat ale. If this place has one thing going for it, it’s the incredible beer.

Oliver shrugs cheerfully. “Seems pretty nice. It’s no Seattle, but then again, I’m biased. With the airport and all the basketball tourism, I think our new location will get more than enough traffic to remain profitable, even with the first hotel already there. Especially since the cheap real estate keeps our expenses low.”

“I see someone read the projections report.”

He scoffs, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I always read everything I’m supposed to.” Then his smile slips a bit. “Listen, can I ask you something?”

Oliver almost never sounds this serious. It instantly makes me suspicious.

“That depends on what it is.”

“I need you to be completely honest with me here, dude.”

“Christ, just spit it out.”

He presses his lips into a flat line, breathing out through his nose, then asks, “Are you doing anything with Presley that you shouldn’t be?”

I hope he can’t see my shoulders tense. “You’ve already asked me that.”

“I know,” he says mildly. “It’s not illegal to ask the same question twice.”

“Well, the answer is no,” I lie.

“Are you sure that’s the story you’re sticking with? I know you want her.”

you and this topic?” I snap. “Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me fucking her? How many times are you going to grill me about

and a few drops of beer slosh out. “Dammit, Dom, don’t lie to me. I’m your best friend—some would say

“Hey,” I grunt.

need to know whether anything is happening that might fuck up

who recommended her for the spot initially. The others had seen

me out, and in his stare is a stern warning. “She’s a good girl, Dom. The kind of girl who will want a house in the suburbs with a dog and a lawn and a

not good enough to be Prince Charming?” Shit, I should have

life. Or at least

sigh escapes me.

her, and it’s not fair to let her wait a single

fact still doesn’t help me stay away from her. When it comes to her, I’m utterly helpless. The more time I spend with her, the more my doubts and fears creep in, but the harder it is to pull away. Why can’t I find the

that you won’t hurt

wet my lips. “I .

I’m going to finish that sentence, and I’m grateful

grateful when I see

and dislikes—probably better than I do, I hate to admit—so it’s rare for her to have a question. Usually, she can handle the

“What’s up, Fran?”

is frantic

spikes at the sound of toddlers crying

going around, it’ll pass in twenty-four hours with no harm done, and you know me, I’m not afraid of a little mess, so I cleaned it up and put Lacey

I can come home. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Which won’t be very soon at all, seeing as

asks, his brow

receiver to quickly mutter, “Everyone in the entire world caught

call you back home,” Francine is saying, “when you’re out of town

It’s no trouble at all.

course this has to happen when I’m on the other side of the fucking

the car and ditch you here,” I tell Oliver. “I’d fly, but by the