Clutch & Taylor: The Wedding (Custom Culture Book 6) Read online

  I dropped them on the nightstand. "What about this?” I swept my hand in front of the garment that’d managed to survive the encounter without a tear.

  "Another two thumbs . . . and a tongue . . . and . . ." He motioned down to his lap. "Although, that is always up when I'm with you." He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me down to the mattress with him. We rarely spent the night in my apartment, mostly because I almost always ended up on the floor by midnight. But for a close cuddle, the undersized bed was pretty damn sweet.

  I pressed my mouth against his pec for a kiss. He smoothed his hand along my back, an after sex habit that I'd grown fond of. There was no more secure feeling in the world for me than being wrapped in Clutch's arms. His touch always calmed any frayed nerves or anxieties when things were stressful in my life. But right now, everything was going splendidly.

  Which, of course, scared the hell out of me because whenever things were going well, it meant a dark cloud was out on the horizon somewhere just waiting to roll in and drop cold rain on my pretty life parade.

  Seven

  Clutch

  Nix and I walked into Tank's Gym. Dray had shut down the main lights, except for the bright bulb in his office. It was always eerily quiet, almost creepy in the cement building after hours. Every other Wednesday night, Nix, Dray, Rett and I met at the gym after closing to work out together. Of course, most of the time was spent drinking beer and bullshitting instead of exercising.

  Rett walked in behind us. "I was calling you."

  "We were ignoring you," I said over my shoulder.

  "Fine but I brought an expensive hundred-year-old bottle of whiskey. Finley's dad let me pick some stuff from his pricey booze collection. The doctor told him he needed to cut down or put his liver in a pickle jar because it needed preserving."

  Nix and I stopped and looked back to make sure he wasn't shitting us about the expensive whiskey. Rett's grin split his face as he held up the bottle. I didn't know much about whiskey or whether or not it was a good brand, but the bottle looked expensive.

  "Nicky says this kind goes down smooth as cream."

  I opened my arms with affection and changed my tone. "Little brother, so fucking good to see you . . . and that bottle of century old whiskey." I looked over at Nix, who was eyeing the bottle like a fudge cupcake. "Isn't it great to see Rett?"

  Nix reached for the bottle and held it up to the dim light. "Look forward to it every time."

  "How does it look?" I asked. "Smooth as cream?"

  "Not sure. Looks like whiskey to me." Nix lowered the bottle. "But then I don't know shit about liquor except how to drink it."

  The office door opened. "Are you assholes going to stand around like a cackle of hens all night or what?" Dray called from the doorway.

  We headed across the gym floor and around the octagon to the office. Dray had been working on updating the worn out office furniture left behind by Tank, the retired owner. Not only had he added a couch but he'd bought two easy chairs and a refrigerator. Even with the new furniture, the guy was still a slob. I had to push an empty pizza box off the easy chair to sit down.

  Dray plucked the bottle of whiskey from Nix's hand. "What you got there, buddy? Looks good. Should we mix it with something?"

  Rett grabbed the bottle back. "Nicky says it's worth two grand, so I don't think we'll be pouring any juice or coke into it. Straight. That's the only way to drink this. It's like sipping gold."

  "Two thousand bucks?" Dray walked over to a cabinet that held an assortment of glasses and cups, mostly dishes Cassie had decided she could spare from the house kitchen. He handed me one that’d had a former life as a jelly jar.

  I held it up. "Four figure scotch in a jelly jar. Now that's what I call drinking from both sides of the track at once."

  Rett poured each of us two fingers of the amber liquid and filled a coffee mug for himself.

  Nix swirled his around in his juice glass. "Why do I feel like we should be putting on bow ties just to drink this."

  "Well, shit. I don't have any bow ties in the gym," Dray said, “but I've got a movie in my porn collection called Tie Me Up. I could put that on while we're drinking."

  Nix looked around for everyone's approval. "That works."

  I lifted my jelly glass. "Here's to Nicky King and his expensive whiskey."

  We toasted and slammed back our drinks. A reflective silence followed as we all stared at our empty glasses. Dray was the first to break the quiet with his thoughtful critique. "Meh, still like beer better."

  "Fuck yeah." I dropped the empty jelly glass into the chair's cup holder.

  "I'm kind of relieved," Nix added. "If it was really delicious, I worried when we got back to the cheap stuff we'd feel like we were missing out. Except for Rett, of course. Now that he's part of the rich and famous lifestyle. Guess when Nicky King is your dad-in-law, you'll be drinking this stuff all the time."

  I sat forward. "Dad-in-law? Did you fucking propose before me?"

  My anger filled question gave the others a good laugh. "It was hypothetical, bro," Nix piped up over their laughs. "Guess marriage proposals are still a sore spot, eh?"

  Dray walked over to his cabinet of DVDs. As unorganized as the paperwork on his desk looked, the movies were filed in alphabetical order. "Tie Me Up. Here it is." He pulled it off the shelf and walked over to the television to slip in the disc. "Never really talked to you about when you choked on that whole proposal thing," he continued a topic that I was just as happy to leave alone.

  Rett poured himself another drink. "You going to work up the courage soon?"

  I stared hard enough at my younger brother that he knew better than to follow up on the question. "Right. Another topic." He swigged back the drink and wrinkled his face at the empty glass. "Hope you bought some beer to wash this shit down with, Dray."

  "In the fridge," Dray said. "And grab out one for each of us. This Tie Me Up movie is better with a buzz."

  "You mean the plot and dialogue are lacking?" Nix asked.

  "If by lacking you mean completely nonexistent." Dray popped open his beer. "Then yes."

  Nix sat back on the couch with his bottle. "Hey, Clutch, what happened with that '70 Charger? How'd she look?"

  I leaned back. The chair grunted under my weight as the foot rest came up. "She was fucking glorious. The old guy has had it parked in the back of his barn for thirty years. No rust. Even the interior and top are in good shape. Just needs a kick ass motor, and it'll be a quick sale."

  "But? Sounds like a but is going to follow."

  "Typical old guy. He doesn't understand the whole profit margin thing on my end. In his mind, he's built up the price of that old, mummified relic. He wouldn't budge on the price. So I gave him my card and walked away. Usually it takes them a few weeks of stewing about the loss of the sale or the wife steps in and tells 'em to get rid of the damn car. Then they call back willing to negotiate. I'll just wait until he comes around or move on to the next lead. Business is good, so I'm in no hurry."

  Our attention, now slightly hazed by the whiskey, turned to the television and the sex scene being played out on the screen.

  Rett tilted his head to the side. "Does she have a piercing down there?"

  "Yeah, it's a diamond stud on her pussy," Dray answered far too quickly.

  We all looked at him as he busied himself opening a bag of chips. He glanced up and realized he had become the center of attention. "What? I’ve watched this a couple of times, and I put it on pause and walked up to the television to check it out. I was curious." He grabbed out a handful of chips and passed the bag toward Rett. "Hey, Cassie said Taylor is busy making custom corsets for Scottie and Finley too. Can't fucking wait. That Taylor is a genius. You need to hang on to her."

  "Wasn't plan on letting her go, Dray. But thanks for the advice." The unexplained flowers shouldn't have still been stuck in my craw, but I couldn't let it go. Even before I asked the question, I knew I'd regret it. But sometimes my mouth shot ahead of
my reason. "Hey, did any of you guys or maybe one of the girls send Taylor a bunch of roses for her birthday?" I looked at Rett. "Maybe you, since you and Finley weren't at the party."

  Rett shrugged. "If Fin sent them she didn't tell me about it." He snapped his fingers. "No wait, Finley sent her a gift certificate for some bath shop Taylor likes. I don't think she said anything about flowers."

  Nix rested his arm along the back of the couch. "What's up with the flowers?"

  I shook my head. "Nothing. No big deal. Someone delivered flowers to Taylor's apartment. The card had her name on it, but it didn't say who they were from." I decided not to recite the entire card, even though it was sketched in my skull.

  I got up for another beer. "Stop with those concerned faces, you assholes. Sorry, I brought it up." I leaned down and reached into the refrigerator. I shut the door and turned around. They were all still looking at me. "Fuck. Just forget it. It's no big deal."

  I knew from the look on Nix's face, I was in for one of his best friend lectures. "Hey, Clutch, Taylor played some games earlier on, but she's grown up. She's a businesswoman and a fucking awesome one at that. And even though she messed with you sometimes, one thing never wavered. Taylor is crazy about you. So don't let something as unimportant as a vase of flowers eat at you. Like you said—no big deal."

  I kept my eyes trained on him as I gulped back my beer. I took a breath and wiped my mouth. "You done, Dad?"

  "Not quite. When are you going to get a haircut? You look like a goddamn hooligan."

  Rett spit out his sip of beer. "Shit, that sounded just like the old man."

  I nodded in agreement. "It was pretty close." I returned to my chair. "So, are we going to actually work out or just watch porn and drink beer?"

  Dray stared at the half drunk bottle of beer in his hand. "I'm thinking beer and porn. All those in favor?"

  We raised our beers in agreement and focused back on the action on screen. Nothing had changed, except the position, which was on a staircase and extremely awkward for the actors and the cameraman.

  "This flick is garbage," Rett commented. "You should see the collection Nicky has in his theater."

  Dray threw a bottle cap at his head.

  "Just saying," Rett added.

  "Hey, don't tell the girls about the roses." I pointed at Dray. "Especially you, chatty boy. I don't need it to get back to Taylor. We've already had one round about it, and I don't want another."

  Nix looked my direction, but I spoke up before he could break into another lecture.

  "And yeah, it's no big deal. That's why I want the topic to die in this room."

  Nix lifted his beer. "To dead topics and no big deals."

  "Here, here," Dray said.

  "And another drink to our women and to hot fucking corsets," Rett added to a round of cheers.

  Eight

  Taylor

  "I'm out your way. I'll swing by and pick you up from the shop. In the mood for seafood?"

  I answered Clutch's text. "I'm so hungry I'm chewing off the ends of my sketch pencils."

  "So that's a yes?"

  "Yes. I'm just cleaning up my workspace. I'll see you soon." I put the phone down and swept all the threads and pieces of fabric off the table and into the waste basket. I'd been working double time making some requested changes for Bridal World, while creating the two custom orders I had on my list. The Assassin's Creed wedding party with its leather and metal was proving to be a major pain in the butt. On top of the difficult materials, the woman kept changing her mind about style. I was beginning to regret it big time. Working with leather was for shoemakers and saddlers. I was sure it would be cool and challenging, but more and more, it seemed it was just going to be odd and unattractive. I'd dreamt of my own wedding dress many times and pictured myself in everything from uninhibited Bohemian to demure Victorian. But after putting together out of the ordinary ensembles for brides who were determined to make a splash or at least get their wedding video to go viral, I decided my dress would be sweet and simple. The notion was probably counterproductive to my business, but that was all right. Of course, I had plenty of time to fret over it since I couldn't imagine a proposal from Clutch any time soon.

  I had just finished cleaning up the work table when the bells rang on the door. "Shit, thought I locked it," I muttered as I grabbed my keys off the desk. I was sure it was Clutch, which meant I was going to have to sit through a lecture about safety and locking the door after customer hours were over.

  I walked out of the backroom. "Before you jump into your—" I stopped and swept in a breath of surprise. Ron, the delivery guy, was standing with a package in his hand and a wide smile across his face.

  I shook my head. "I must be losing my mind. I can't even remember ordering anything." He met me at the counter and placed the small package down. It didn't have the usual mailing labels, just my name scrolled across the top in black permanent marker.

  I stared down at the brown wrapped box. "I don't understand. What is this?"

  "Open it," he said enthusiastically.

  I hesitated for a second.

  "It won't bite. I promise you'll like it."

  I stared down at the way my name had been written. While the writing on the card in the roses was vague in my mind, something about the way the T was written looked familiar.

  "Ron, if I gave you any—"

  "Just open it. If you don't like it, I'll just pick it up and walk away."

  I slowly opened the package, all the while trying to remember if I'd ever given Ron any indication that I liked him. Clutch occasionally accused me of being a notorious flirt. It was something I'd always refused to apologize for because it was part of my nature, not something I knew how to tame. But I couldn't think of one incident or conversation with Ron that would’ve led him to believe I liked him other than in a friendly business relationship way.

  The brown packing paper fell away revealing a shiny gold box beneath.

  "I heard you telling Mandy one day that you loved chocolate truffles. These had the best reviews online."

  I had to work at forming a smile. "I don't know what to say, Ron. Thank you. I do love truffles." I lifted my face to him. He looked as excited as a kid who'd just gotten a puppy. My stomach knotted. I didn't want to hurt him, but it seemed unavoidable. "The roses? Those were from you?"

  He glanced shyly down at the counter. "I decided not to sign my name. But I couldn't hide my feelings anymore. Taylor, I think you are the most incredible woman in the world."

  "Ron, I'm flattered, but—" The look of concern in his eyes prompted me to reach out and place my hand over his. "I'm sorry if I gave you any indication that I liked you more than as a casual acquaintance. The roses were lovely, but I can't accept the candy. I've been with someone since I was eighteen. I'm sure you've seen him."

  His shoulders lifted with a deep breath. "The big guy with the muscle cars. I've seen him. Guess I was hoping it wasn't anything serious. He just doesn't seem like a good match for you." His eyes were glassy as he looked up at me.

  I felt a little sick to my stomach. Somehow the guy had managed to convince himself that we could be a couple.

  "I would treat you like a princess."

  I squeezed his hand. "I know you would. There's someone out there who doesn't know she's about to become the luckiest girl alive. She's waiting for you, Ron. You just have to find her. But I'm not that person."

  I lifted my hand from his and pushed the truffles toward him. "Thank you for the kind gesture." As I turned toward the front door to give him the cue that it was time to leave, a dark shadow moved past the front window. The size of the person made him easy to recognize. Only instead of coming to the door, Clutch was walking away from the shop. I could only conclude that he’d seen me talking to someone and figured I was with a customer. He must have headed back to his car to wait for me.

  "That's my boyfriend. We're just about to go out." I walked to the door but didn't hear Ron's footsteps behind me. He was
still at the counter. A brief moment of fear went through me as I considered the possibility that he wasn't going to accept my rejection so readily. I took comfort in knowing Clutch was just outside.

  I forced a bright smile and reached for the door handle. "And don't worry, Ron. We don't ever have to talk about this again."

  Ron nodded as if he understood, but he moved just slowly enough to worry me.

  "Keep the chocolate. I don't like sweets," he muttered as he strode past me and out the door.

  I stood alone in the shop, trying to catch my breath and my composure. The rumble of Clutch's Nova rattled the shop windows and shook me out of my state of shock. My hands were shaking slightly as I locked the door and walked to the back to turn off the lights and grab my purse. As I passed the counter, I picked up the chocolates and tossed them in the trash. I didn't want any reminder of the last few awkward moments. My phone vibrated as I picked up my purse. Seconds later Clutch's car rumbled away.

  I yanked out my phone and stared in disbelief at the text. "Whose hand were you holding? I've decided I'm not in the mood for seafood."

  I couldn't call him. The old Nova didn't have Bluetooth. It was too damn noisy inside to hear anyhow. And I was just angry enough to know that I needed to cool down before I talked to him. But even after a cool down that man was going to get a piece of my mind for automatically assuming the worst.

  Nine

  Clutch

  I needed to plow my fist into something and decided my safest bet would be Tank's Gym. That way I could spare the walls in my house the pain. I'd walked away from Taylor's shop as fast as I could, worried that if I lingered or came face to face with the guy she was grinning at, the night would have ended with my knuckles in his teeth.

  I'd been such a fool. All this time I'd convinced myself that Taylor was done with her childish games. She was taking her business seriously, like a grown up. But it seemed she still wanted to mess with me, provide me with just enough torture to keep me wanting her. I'd decided long ago that she was getting a slow, sweet revenge for all the years I'd ignored her. At that time, she'd been too young to understand that I had no choice but to keep her out of reach. Thankfully, those days were long behind us now. For the last year it seemed Taylor had matured and left behind some of her wild ways. Or at least I'd convinced myself she had.