Top Secret

KEATON

This might have been a bad idea, I decide an hour later. Luke’s expression as he studies our hotel suite in Stonington isn’t as…encouraging as I’d hoped. A muscle ticks in his jaw when his gaze settles on the massive four-poster bed in the center of the room. Then he turns to me and sighs.

“How much is this costing you?”

I know I’ve overstepped a boundary by surprising him with a weekend away. But it seems he’s not worried about the intimacy of taking a trip so much as the cost of it. So that’s good news.

“Honestly, not much,” I assure him. “It’s nowhere near high season yet.”

“Fine, then let me pay for half,” he says immediately.

“No way. This is my birthday gift to you.”

Silence ensues.

Luke stares at me for so long I start to feel uncomfortable. I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans and bite my lip uneasily. “Jako and Ahmad talked to the party-planning committee about organizing something for next weekend,” I say when Luke doesn’t speak. “So I asked what was going on next weekend, and Jako said it was your birthday.”

Luke still doesn’t answer.

“So I thought, hey, he’s got this weekend off, so maybe I’ll surprise him with an early birthday thing,” I finish lamely.

The discomfort I’m feeling is nothing compared to the intensified version of it I see in Luke Bailey’s eyes.

Hoo boy, this was a bad idea, all right. I didn’t expect him to jump up and down with joy, but I didn’t think he’d be this put off by my efforts.

“You planned a weekend away to celebrate my birthday,” he murmurs.

I gulp. “Yeah.”

“What else did you plan? What exactly are we doing this weekend, along with boning on that huge bed.” He gestures vaguely to the California king.

I meet his eyes. “Tonight we’re having steaks at the hotel restaurant. Tomorrow afternoon we’re going to a craft beer festival in Mystic.”

He nods slowly. “Okay. And?”

He knows me well. “Uh, Sam Smith is playing at Mohegan Sun. I got us tickets,” I mumble. The seats are front row, center. But I don’t mention that. He’d probably do the math, figure out the ticket prices, and have a nervous breakdown.

Luke lets out an uneven breath. “Hayworth,” he says roughly. “I…”

I swallow again. “You what?”

He hesitates. “I…” He’s visibly swallowing now, too. “I got to hit the head. I’ll be right back.”

To my dismay, he makes a beeline for the private bath and firmly shuts the door. I sit down at the edge of the bed and run a hand through my hair. Shit. I feel like such an idiot. As Annika can attest, I tend to get carried away when it comes to special occasions. I mean, I arranged a threesome for her birthday, for fuck’s sake. And for her birthday last year, I took her to Paris.

Money has never been a factor for me. My trust fund is enormous. I don’t dip into it often, but when I do, I don’t hold back.

But Bailey isn’t Annika. Annika grew up as wealthy as I did. Bailey did not.

I’m such a fool. Of course he’s freaked out by all this.

When the bathroom door opens, I half expect an outraged Luke to stomp toward me and demand to be taken back to Darby.

Instead, I find myself gazing at a stricken Luke whose dark eyes are slightly rimmed with red.

“Hayworth,” he starts. Then he stops. “Keaton.”

I remain seated. “You okay?” I ask cautiously.

He gives a slow shake of his head.

Fuck. I open my mouth, armed with an apology, but he cuts me off with a strangled groan.

“I want to be pissed off at you. I really do. Because this is so fucking extra. One dinner would’ve been a sufficient birthday present. Actually, way more than sufficient. But dinner and two nights at this fancy hotel and a beer festival and a concert? Are you out of your mind?”

Once again, I open my mouth to tell him that all Hayworths like to party. It’s just in our blood. Our annual beach barbecue is legendary.

But once again, he speaks first. “I’m not pissed,” he says helplessly. “I’m not pissed, because do you realize that the last time anybody remembered my birthday, let alone celebrated it, was back in high school?”

I frown. “Not even your family?”

Luke laughs bitterly. “Especially them. The last time my mother wished me a happy birthday was when I turned sixteen.” He shakes his head a few times. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“But you’re not pissed,” I hedge.

“Not much. I’m fucking touched, okay? Even if I want to punch you for making me feel this way—hey! Wipe that grin off your face! This isn’t funny.”

I press my lips together to fight my amusement. “No, it’s kinda funny.”

Bailey’s trademark scowl twists his sexy mouth. I notice his fists are clenched to his sides, and more laughter bubbles in my throat. I want to tease him about this, or maybe just assure him that it’s okay to feel moved, that he’s allowed to accept this gift, but I don’t want to push him any more than I already have.

So I hop off the mattress and give his ass a little smack. “All right, you done bitching? Because I’m hungry for steak.”

Dinner is great. The company is even better. Bailey and I somehow down two bottles of wine, so we’re tipsy for most of our meals. The waitress knows it, and teases us about our growing intoxication. And by the time I sign the receipt slip with our room number, I’m rocking a semi, because for me, drunk = horny.

Ergo, I have my tongue in Luke’s mouth before he can even close the door to the suite.

“You are the most sex-starved person I’ve ever met,” he mutters against my greedy mouth.

“You love it,” I mumble back. I’m already clawing at his clothes.

He squeezes my ass and guides me backward toward the bed. Then I’m flat on my back and he’s on top of me, and we’re making out hardcore. His fingers fumble with my zipper, yanking it down as his tongue fills my mouth and robs me of sanity.

But through the haze of lust, I register the persistent chime of my cell phone. I’d left it in the room when we were at dinner, and it isn’t on silent or vibrate.

“Ugh, let me shut that off,” I groan against Luke’s lips. “It’s gonna annoy me.”

“Hurry,” he growls, then rolls onto his back and rubs his erection through his pants.

Grinning, I dive off the bed toward the desk. I plan on switching the phone to silent mode, but the notifications on the lock screen catch my eye. Two missed calls from my father. Which normally I’d just ignore. But he also sent a text after his calls weren’t answered, and what I read before the notification cuts off is enough to trigger my internal alarm.

Dad: I assume congratulations are in order! I just saw the hotel charges on your…[read more]

I glance at the bed, where Luke is totally eye-fucking me. “Hey, sorry, I need to read this message.”

Luke flicks up an eyebrow. “Something important?”

“I’m not sure. Right now it’s just confusing.” I unlock the home screen to scan the rest of Dad’s text.

When I’m done, I’m fuming so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if Luke commented on the steam rolling out of my ears.

Dad: I assume congratulations are in order! I just saw the hotel charges on your credit statement, and your mother points out that it must mean you and Annika are back on track. We are both thrilled to hear it, son!

No need to phone me back tonight. I assume you and Annika are busy enjoying your weekend away. But we have to speak when you return. There’s also a credit card charge for an application fee for a summer program? That had better not interfere with the finance internship you promised to do. Call me tomorrow.

“Everything okay?” Luke calls.

I realize I’ve just been standing here like a marble statue, glowering at my phone.

“No,” I retort. “It’s not.” I turn and march to the bed, where I drop the iPhone in Luke’s hand. “Can you believe this man?”

Luke skims the message. His eyebrows shoot up again, and he gives me an incredulous look. “He checks your credit card statements?”

“Yup.” I can barely get that one syllable out, my throat is so tight with anger. “The card is connected to my trust account, and Dad has access to that. I’m used to him checking up on what I’m spending money on, but this…this is bullshit.” I blow out a harsh breath. “What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s breathing down my neck, for one. And I never promised to do that internship. So he’s just perusing my credit card on a Friday night, connecting the dots on my life?”

“It’s certainly intrusive,” Luke agrees.

“Shit, and knowing him he’ll reach out to Annika, too. And she’s dating somebody else. She’ll probably be humiliated.”

“Oh come on, he wouldn’t really do that, would he?”

I drop my ass back on the bed. I scrub my face with my hands, moaning in aggravation. “That is absolutely something he would do, and has done. I mean, we’re talking about the man who sent gift cards to every single member of his son’s fraternity to win votes. I can’t deal with this anymore, Bailey. He’s my father, and I love him, but holy fuck do I need him to just leave me alone.”

“Then tell him.”

With a wry smile, I lift my head. “Really. You want me to tell my father to leave me alone. Solid plan.”

Luke sits up too, coming up behind me on his knees. To my shock, he curls his fingers over my shoulders and begins kneading my tense flesh. “Christ, you’re stiff as a board. Breathe, Hayworth.”

I breathe, but it does nothing to diffuse the hostility I’m feeling. “I can’t stand it anymore,” I repeat.

“Then tell him,” Luke repeats.

Laughter sputters out. “Stop saying that.”

“No.” He massages a knot of tension between my shoulder blades. His hands are strong, rough. They feel like heaven. “Because that’s exactly what you need to do—tell him how you feel.”

“I have,” I protest. “He doesn’t listen.”

“Then make him listen.” Luke’s thumbs continue working on that stubborn knot. “As someone who’s quite skilled at dealing with toxic parents, I promise you, the only way to save your sanity is to set clear boundaries. I could’ve continued living at home after Joe got out of prison—it would’ve been hella cheaper and saved me so much stress. But my mental wellbeing was more important. I made it clear to my mother that I wasn’t going to be dragged down by her or Joe any longer. Yeah, I throw money her way sometimes, but that’s only because I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing her heat is shut off. But I’m trying hard not to enable her bad behavior anymore, and I definitely don’t tolerate the narcissistic bullshit she tries to manipulate me with.”

I stay quiet, because I’m terrified he’ll stop talking if I say something. This is the first time he’s spoken at length about his family. No, about his feelings. Luke Bailey doesn’t share.

“But I get that it’s hard. When I give her an inch, Mom still uses me shamelessly,” he says gruffly. “She always has. Joe was her favorite, but we all knew that kid was going nowhere. Me, on the other hand—I was smart, ambitious, motivated. I was working two jobs by the time I was fifteen. She knew which son was going to be her meal ticket, and she used every trick in the book to guilt me into giving her whatever she wanted.”

I raise a hand to cover his on my shoulder. I caress his hand, and he traps mine there with his thumb.

“So yeah,” he finishes. “It’s not easy. But I’m really trying not to enable her anymore. And that’s what you’re doing with your dad—you let him get away with his bad behavior, and as long as you keep letting shit slide, he’ll keep doing it.”

I gulp down the lump in my throat. “So what do you suggest I say? Because I’ve tried asking him to back off, and it hasn’t worked.”

Luke kisses the back of my neck. “Yeah, you’ve asked. And what I’m telling you to do is tell him. This is your life, not his. He doesn’t get a say in what you choose to do with it. That means you can’t let him bully you into stuff anymore—running for frat president, this finance internship that—no offense—you are going to suck at.”

“No offense taken,” I mutter. “I hate business, and I particularly hate finance.”

“Exactly, and you need to be firm about that. Draw your line in the sand, babe. When we get back to school, you need to phone him up and say, ‘Dad, this is how it is. I’m not interning at your company this summer. I’m going to Chile to play with Shamu—’”

I snicker. And I wonder if he realizes he just called me babe. But I don’t mention it, because it’d probably send him into a panic again.

“‘Furthermore, if you keep snooping around in my bank accounts and making judgments about my purchases, I’m going to apply for another credit card that you don’t have access to. Also, I am not back together with Annika. I’m bisexual and I’m spending the weekend with a guy. In fact, I’m about to suck him off.’”

I curl over in a wave of laughter. “Oh, is that so?” I demand between chuckles. “You’re about to get sucked off?”

Abandoning the massage, Luke twists me around so we’re facing each other. The combination of heat and tenderness on his face makes me shiver. “Come here, Keaton.”

Keaton. He usually calls me Hayworth, and it always sounds like he’s keeping his distance. But not today.

“I’m waiting.” He crooks his finger.

So I move, pushing him down on the bed like an overeager puppy. “You got something you need to say?”

“Yeah.” His voice is husky. “You’re pretty great. That’s all. Now forget about your pushy old man and kiss me.”