Three Reckless Words: A Grumpy Sunshine Romance (The Rory Brothers Book 3)
Three Reckless Words: Chapter 22

The next few days blur by in a hell that feels like a time-robbing fever dream.

Conference calls and lawyers and so much legal horseshit I hardly know how I’m wading my way through it without drowning. I promised Dexter and Patton I’d take the reins, so everything goes through me personally.

King Carroll Emberly III has plenty of lawyers at his disposal, which comes as no surprise. Although he’s loaded and friends with damn near every high-powered attorney in the state, he doesn’t have the financial war chest we do.

And I’m ready to throw it open.

This is our only advantage and I’m not about to waste it.

“The last thing you want is a protracted court battle. We’ll do what we can to prevent it from getting that far,” Brian Hennessy, my lead attorney, says patiently.

“I’m aware.”

“Right now, we need to buy you time. Time means a better defense to pushback. We’ll work on appeals to stall the data discovery first.”

“Appeals.” I snort. “Will even one succeed?”

He sighs, and I know his answer before he gives it. “Frankly, Mr. Rory, I wouldn’t hold out for any miracles. The state AG’s office is harder to thwart than any competitor or basic civil suit with a customer.”

“If we can’t buy time, you’d want to settle out of court?”

“Better that than the negative press, I’m sure you’ll agree. If it goes to court, I don’t like our chances.”

My fist clenches.

The whole thing is utter bullshit.

We’re hardly the monopoly on the luxury rental market like the antitrust suit claims.

Still, if we have any time left at all, I want to attack this on more than just the legal front.

“I need dirt on Emberly,” I growl. “Every skeleton in his fucking closet, replace it and pull it out. Got it?”

“Yes, sir, that’s your prerogative. There’s no rule saying you can’t do a little off-record data discovery yourself or enlist a few private investigators to help. Just please make sure you keep your nose clean and ensure they’re fully licensed with solid reputations.”

“I’ll have them report to you. The second they turn up anything, you call me.”

“But—”

I end the call and lean back in my chair, rubbing my face. Hennessy doesn’t like dealing in anything that isn’t a document, but he knows better than to fight me on it.

Three days of turning over our own records, crafting every single legal defense we have, and I’m exhausted.

When I close my eyes, I see grim-faced judges and lawyers with assassin’s eyes in my future.

This could fucking kill me, and my brothers too.

Everything we’ve built…

Fuck, it’s already gouging our expenses like a hungry bear.

Yes, we can afford it, but that doesn’t mean I want to hemorrhage money for months thanks to Carroll goddamned Emberly.

The office door creaks open.

I sit up in my chair.

“I’m on it,” I start, but when I see Winnie’s fiery mass of curls, I stop.

She’s pale in the midday light, but just as beautiful as ever. Seeing her knocks the air from my lungs.

It’s incredible how she still does it, even after we’ve been to bed more times than I can count.

If I ever stop and wonder why the hell I’m suffering this torture, there’s my answer, writ large in big green eyes and hair that teases at a glance.

“Sorry to barge in. I know you’re busy,” she says, hands tucked behind her back.

“Not for you, Sugarbee.” I reach out an arm, and when she comes over, I settle her on my knee.

She fits there too perfectly. I take a good, long breath of her, inhaling honey and something floral and delectable.

This woman always makes my mouth water while my dick turns to diamond.

For her, I’m insatiable, never too upset to not want to be balls deep inside her.

I kiss her neck, feeling her melt into me.

For a second, I actually relax, trailing one hand up her side.

“You came to distract me?” I whisper. My cock swells in my pants at the thought of bending her over this desk and fucking her right here.

Let the phone calls from hell wait.

“Actually, I came to ask you a question,” she says breathily, shifting on my lap and making my hard-on pure steel.

“Can’t it wait, Winnie?” I nip the tender skin under her ear and she gasps. God, she’s sexy. I’ll never get over how gorgeous she is. “Ten damn minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Archer…”

“Use your mouth first and it’ll be five.”

Laughing, she squirms away from my lips, straddling me as she turns to look up at me seriously.

“No, I mean it. I need to ask you something.”

Too bad.

A sweet distraction would’ve helped, but I sigh and nod, settling both hands on her thighs. She’s wearing hip-hugger jeans today and they accent her shape. I’m sure they look even better on her ass.

“Okay, go,” I tell her.

“Have you heard from the conservation people?”

“Conservation people?” I frown at her, honestly perplexed. “You mean the specialist from the state? She called earlier, wanting to come out and look at the bees, but I figured it was your doing.”

Her face whitens. The slim hand on my shoulder tenses so much it hurts.

“Are you kidding?”

“No. Winnie, what’s going on?”

“It’s a trap,” she hisses. “Another hit job from my dad. I just thought… I thought maybe he was kidding, or maybe he wouldn’t do it, but he already has. He has and I’m so sorry.”

My vision shakes.

“Wait, wait. You talked to your dad again?” I do my best to keep my voice under control, but my earlier lust dissolves into pure frustration. “Winnie, I told you not to call him, didn’t I?”

“Yes, while you sit up here in your office, stressing over how my family keeps destroying your life.” She sighs, flipping her hair. “I had to do something.”

“It’s not your battle.”

“But it is.” She shuffles back off my lap and I let her.

She may be eerily beautiful when she’s mad, her coppery hair static and her eyes flashing like angry seas, but that’s not enough to distract me from the fact that she’s complicating this fuckery when she doesn’t need to.

I told her to let me deal with it.

Any legal crap is out of her league.

Not because she’s stupid—no, quite the opposite—but because this isn’t something she has any experience with. If her old man wanted to approach her and fix this with a family talk, he would’ve done it by now.

But he didn’t.

He’s using his office to go full scorched earth, and that’s how I have to respond. Winnie doesn’t have the expertise, and now there’s a very real chance she’s made it worse.

“This is my problem,” she insists, her voice choking. “It’s my father and this is all because of me. Because he wanted to marry me off to that scumbag and I said no. Because you tried to protect me.”

“It’s my company and my problem, Winnie.” I stand, too. She seems so small suddenly, this fragile slip of a woman I’d risk the universe for. “Let me fix it.”

“Archer… I know you mean well,” she starts, but I shake my head, cutting her off.

“This isn’t about meaning shit. It’s about dealing with the problem in the most effective way, head-on.”

“I can’t just sit on the sidelines. Sorry, but I can’t. I’ve been doing that my entire life and that’s what got me into this mess.” She reaches out to brush my cheek, delicately feeling my beard. “For the first time in my life, I’m standing my ground. I’m not running. That shouldn’t destroy me. And I certainly can’t let my problems destroy you either.”

I push her hand away, irrationally annoyed at this destruction talk.

Carroll Emberly hasn’t wrecked anyone yet.

God willing, he won’t, if I have my way—and I will.

Compared to feeling your friend’s heart stop while he bleeds out in your arms on Syrian soil, this is a high school drama.

“You worry about your damn bees. Leave the legal crap to me. That’s what I pay my people through the nose for,” I say, my voice too harsh. She flinches back. I see it, but I can’t stop myself. “And if your old man’s so corrupt he’s willing to step in and protect the bastard you got away from, I’ll bring him down, too. I’m not scared, Winnie. I’m not afraid to fight.”

She stills, and for a second, I’m sure I’ve said the wrong thing.

Whatever else he is, he’s her father.

Then she exhales and shakes her head. “I know. I just wish you’d let me help.”

“This isn’t something you can help me with.”

“Please don’t push me away, Archer,” she says, her voice smaller than ever.

“I’m not pushing. I’m protecting you, protecting both of us.”

She sighs.

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing right now. I want to help you face this head-on, not hide away like some helpless little doll you put on a shelf.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” I snap, and she flinches back. Shit. “Look, I know you tried when you called him up, you had good intentions, but—” I exhale, frustrated. “Can’t you see I’m doing this to help you too? I need you to trust me.”

She folds her arms. Her hair almost seems like it’s bristling.

“Actually, sometimes I can’t. If you just shut me out, if you insist it doesn’t concern me when it clearly does… Archer, how can I trust anything you say?”

I stare at her, my nostrils flaring.

“If you can’t trust me, then maybe none of this is right.”

Fucking hell.

As soon as it’s left my mouth, I want to claw the words right back.

Her face whitens. I think she might cry again.

But I guess that’s not what she does when she’s hurt, because when she looks up at me, her wide eyes so full of agony it rips at my heart, she’s calm. Composed.

“Wait—” I start, but she waves away my words.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“But you did,” she says coldly.

What is happening?

I want her to break down, to rage at me, to put me back in my place for running my mouth, but she just looks lost now. All this venom and agony deep inside her where I can’t reach.

It fucking hurts watching her.

Like she’s so used to being tossed aside, she knows how to handle the rejection.

“Winnie, I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated.”

“You don’t just say something like that and take it right back.” She sniffs. “Especially when you… you meant every word.”

Damn.

I know I can’t undo it, I know it’s not that easy, but this is shredding me. I don’t even know what the fuck I really meant. I was just spouting off because I was pissed, scared at the thought of her suffering.

The look on her face screams pain.

“I know you’re angry, and I know you said it because you’re mad,” she says, still quiet. I reach out to her and she steps back. “But you’re right. This isn’t working.”

“You can’t mean that,” I rasp out, feeling like she’s shot me through the heart.

Her lip quivers, sadness filling her eyes.

“Wouldn’t it be easier than fighting him? I walk out, I go somewhere he can’t replace me, and then he has no reason to come after you.” She gestures between us, her hand shaking.

When I reach out to grab her, she sweeps back to the door, leaving before I can try to mitigate this train wreck. And yes, I’m the idiot conductor who ran it off the rails.

“Wait,” I call after her. “Winnie, come back and talk to me!”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Not now. I just need… give me space, Archer, okay?”

Space.

How can one mundane word feel like a guillotine?

I don’t know what the hell to say to that or how to make her stay. Just like I know I can’t go after her or take back the mindless dribble I spat at her.

She closes the door behind her with a small click that’s so fucking anticlimactic it’s laughable.

Insane.

Why couldn’t she burst a lung screaming at me like Rina? I’d rather feel her slap me across the face than this.

Of course, my phone picks the shittiest time ever to go off, but I don’t look away from the door and I don’t pick up.

Winnie doesn’t return.

The call goes to voicemail while I stand there in silence, stranded between love and regret.

To no one’s surprise, Dexter and Patton agree that this conservation case could be a slow-moving catastrophe for Solitude and the other cabins there. Let alone any future expansions.

Just one whiff of ‘endangered species’ will freeze our properties in legal limbo for months, possibly years. They’ll sit vacant while scientists and professors come pouring in.

Talk about a total loss.

“It gets worse. One proven violation could endanger our plans elsewhere in the state,” Dexter says, tapping his pen against the table. “Like the St. Louis project. We won’t have the investment capital if we blow it all on legal fees, let alone the zoning approvals and permits if our name turns to mud in Missouri.”

“Shit, guys. We better step back, pause the expansion before anything goes further,” Patton says miserably.

It’s his baby and I’ve just drowned it in the bathwater.

I grunt in agreement, hating that I need to.

So much for fixing things.

My brothers are both adults, but in my head they’re still the same kids who used to stumble along after me when we were growing up. The same brats I’d save from neighborhood bullies when they stepped on too many toes, before they could get their asses beat.

Patton is the impulsive one, the risk-taker.

Dexter has the bones of a real businessman when he can keep his temper out of the dealings.

I’m the smart, levelheaded human compass who keeps us focused, always heading in the right direction.

Until today.

It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help feeling I’m letting my little brothers down, throwing them into the fire instead of bailing them out.

Especially knowing they did nothing to cause this mess.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “The company shouldn’t shoulder all the legal fees. I can throw down some of my own money to soften the blow.”

“Excuse me?” Patton raises an eyebrow. “Did you miss the part where Emberly is suing the company?”

“Because of me. It’s personal.”

“Because of that girl,” Dexter says. “Who, by the way, is the first person who’s made you smile since the Wicked Witch of the West flew off on her broomstick.”

“Bullshit,” I say, more forcefully than necessary. “I’ve smiled plenty since then. I have Colt.”

“Bull. Shit,” Patton mocks back, jutting out his lower lip.

I remember why I shouldn’t feel too guilty over these pricks.

Dexter points his pen at me like a dagger.

“It’s different and you know it. I don’t know what this Winnie means to you, but if she’s helped you get over Rina, she has my respect.”

“Helps that she’s hot,” Patton adds with a chuckle, shrugging at Dexter’s glare. “What? She is. Nothing on Salem, obviously, but who is? For runner-up, she’s not bad.”

“Runner-up? And you’re saying my Junie gets fucking bronze?” Dex growls.

“Goddammit, guys, not now.” I groan, dropping my head into my hands.

However hot she is—and she could beat Helen of Troy with a beauty stick—it doesn’t change the truth.

I fucked up massively and she’s probably not going to be hot for me any longer.

But you’re right. This isn’t working.

Her words float back to me like angry ghosts.

“We’re going to fight this,” Dexter tells me, tapping the table again to get my attention. “All of us, not just you. And not for the company, but for you. Fucking hell, Arch. How many times have you fought our battles?”

“Like when Dex screwed up that deal with Haute?” Patton dodges the swipe Dexter aims at him. “Look, it’s not like you’re the only one who ever stepped in it here. Even Mom didn’t see it coming when Arlo got sick.”

I shake my head, wishing we’d never speak of that insanity again.

“Yeah, but this is next level, Pat.”

“So what? We’ll get through it like we always have.” Patton leans back in his chair and spears me with a look. “Whatever happens, Bro, just promise me you won’t screw it up with Bee Lady. That’s my one condition. You gotta keep getting laid. It helps your mood.”

“Cute,” Dexter deadpans.

Too late, I think bitterly, but then I shake myself.

What the hell am I still doing here listening to my brothers squawk?

I could be trying harder, fixing the gaping hole I cut in our relationship.

He’s right.

I need to move my ass and patch this up before she walks out the door forever.

And knowing Winnie and how willing she is to flee when things seem hopeless, it’s probably going to be sooner rather than later.

“I need to go,” I say, and Patton smirks.

“That’s the spirit. Go get her, Arch.”

“We’ve got this,” Dexter says, waving me to the door. “Just go home and relax. Remember to talk to her like a normal human being. You’d be surprised how far it’ll get you.”

“Fuck you guys,” I mutter on my way out.

They both dissolve into laughter.

My brothers are adults, yes, but they still behave like punk-ass teenagers with me.

Even so, I’m grateful for their shit.

If it wasn’t for them, I’d probably be paralyzed, rather than driving home, looking for Winnie’s heart.

I have to see her.

I have to apologize.

I have to undo this and show her she can trust me.

I just hope it’s not too fucking late.