Running For It by Allyson Lindt

Seven

He reached for my hand, and I stepped away from his touch. He frowned. “I do mean it. I should have told you the entire story from the start. I did what felt right at the time, and I see now it wasn’t.”

I shook my head. Easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Such bullshit. Just not usually Ramsey’s form of bullshit. If he did something, it was because he knew he was right, no regrets.

“What did you want to tell me?” I shouldn’t hear him out, but I was shutting down my heart, so it didn’t matter. He’d talk, I’d say no, and I’d go to work.

“Part Two. I can make it happen now, but I didn’t want to pull the trigger before talking to you.”

I narrowed my gaze. “That’s what you were going to tell me before I yelled at you?”

“You didn’t technically yell,” Hunter said. “And we came up with this while we were waiting for the cameras to show up.”

“Hunter came up with it. But he’s right.” Was that pride in Ramsey’s voice?

I checked the clock on my phone. “Five minutes? I promised Lyn I’d still be in this morning.”

Ramsey rolled his eyes. “She’d let you take the day off. She wouldn’t even ask questions.”

But I’d hate letting her down. I twisted my mouth, waiting.

“I’ll give Dottie a call,” Ramsey said. “We’ll do a fundraiser in Vegas. Like a pop-up event. Tomorrow night it’s there, and at midnight, poof—it’s gone.”

Ramsey’s grandmother insisted we call her Dottie, rather than Dorothy or Mrs. Miller. And she’d done a lot of charity work, and her events made the one last night look like a children’s party.

I adored her. She’d reached that age where she was willing to say fuck it to what anyone thought, and do things her way. However— “You can’t put an entire event together in a day.”

Ramsey grinned at the challenge. “Day and a half. I’ll call her right now, if you say yes. She’d love to do this for you. I’ll have the plans for your approval by tonight, and we’ll fly out there tomorrow afternoon.”

“I can’t…” My protest died in my throat, as my gaze landed on the faces pressed to the windows, watching us. I didn’t have a choice.

“You’re not giving up control; you’re delegating. Everything gets your sign-off, down to the caterers and brand of shrimp, if you want.” Ramsey knew me too well.

I had a week to find these kids a new place to go, and no funds for it. “All right. Let’s do it.”

“Perfect.” Hunter clapped.

It was adorable.

Ramsey’s grin was more assured. “Dinner tonight, as an apology and to discuss strategy?”

“Is this a dinner for the press?” I couldn’t help the question. He might not have used this morning to campaign, but now he was donating his valuable time to youth in need. Perfect photo op. I hated that I had to consider the possibility before I gave my answer.

His pleased smugness vanished in a blink. “This is dinner for us.”

“No. I can’t do this again.” I’d almost prefer this were a press dinner. Then Ramsey would be on his best behavior, and I’d see Media Ramsey in action rather than Alpha-Sweet, Sometimes-Nerdy Ramsey.

“It’s dinner with friends.” Hunter chimed in. “I’ll be there too.

He was so not a deterrent.

“You have to eat, we have to eat…” Ramsey dangled the thought like the reasonable and honest proposal it was.

That didn’t mean I had to eat with them. I did need to approve those plans for tomorrow night, though. “Okay. It’s a work dinner. We discuss the event tomorrow.”

Ramsey raised an eyebrow. “We’ll pick you up at six. Get you home before it’s too late, because I assume you’ll work tomorrow, even though you’re about to host a massive fundraiser in another state.”

“You assume correctly.”

Ramsey stepped closer, and I backed away again.

“I’ll see you tonight.” I tried not to look too awkward, waving. I wouldn’t hold up to a drawn-out goodbye and who knew what else. There was no telling what I’d agree to next, especially with my body whispering, One little farewell kiss wouldn’t hurt.

Lyn’s café—Loading Java—was only a few miles from the shelter, and even in morning traffic, I was there in under ten minutes. I rushed inside, past our standard line of early customers, and into the kitchen, where Lyn was grabbing a fresh round of pastries.

Thankfully, she was alone. I’d walked in on her with one of her guys a few times, and while I’m pretty sure she was more embarrassed than me, I wasn’t in the mood for unexpected smooches this morning. From anyone.

“I’m so sorry.” I grabbed my apron from its hook and tied it in place. “I’ll help with morning rush, and then I’ll explain.” And ask for a day or two off, out of the blue. The idea of dumping that kind of surprise on someone curdled my gut. I’d be letting Lyn down. I hated that. Maybe I could miss the party.

But then I was letting someone else beg for money on my shelter’s behalf, and I couldn’t do that, either.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lyn was kind. “You looked good this morning. We had it on in here.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Thanks.”

We made it through the morning rush with the practiced efficiency of our well-matched crew. When we hit a lull that looked like it would last at least a few minutes, I pulled Lyn aside.

I explained to her what happened last night with the inspection. And what Ramsey’s plan was. “So I may need to take off early tomorrow, and take the day after as well,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could give you more warning. I’ll ask if anyone can take my shift—”

“It’s okay.” Lyn sounded like she meant it. “You’re doing something important, to you and for others.”

I still felt guilty. “But—”

“I get it. Learning to relax and take time off gets easier with each day you take off, though.”

I didn’t want it to get easier. “I never want to feel right letting people down.”

“You’re not letting me down. And don’t worry about covering your shift. Owen will do it.”

“Okay. Thank you.” I was out of arguments.

“If you need anything besides a pop-up Vegas party, let me know,” Lyn said. “I have connections too. Mine are just less public.”

I smiled at the offer. Lyn’s friends had helped her remodel this building. I was happy to put them on the payroll to help with mine, as well. “Ask them to be on standby. Whatever comes out of this, I’m going to need a lot of help.”

I went back to work, but I couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow. And tonight. Every time dinner with Ramsey popped into my head, a giddy little beat danced behind my ribs. It was foolish, but knowing that didn’t stop my heart from hoping otherwise.

I spent far too much mental energy on what should I wear tonight, as the hours at work ticked away. Especially since when I got home, I didn’t know.

My apartment was a simple one-bedroom, with sparse decoration. It suited my needs, and I rarely was here long enough to do more than sleep and shower.

The little black dress in the back of my closet called to me, and I tried to ignore its siren song. I’d bought it because every girl should have at least one, and I needed to replace the half-dozen I’d had that reminded me of Ramsey.

The new one hadn’t done what I wanted it to. I was wearing a black leather mini when I met Ramsey, and that night, as well as the many others we were together, he could do a whole lot to me when I was in a little black dress, and no one around us was ever the wiser.

Need pulsed between my legs at the rush of memories, and I squeezed my thighs together. Little black dress? Bad idea.

Which must explain why I tugged it from my closet, pulled it on, and accented it with matching heels and thigh-high stockings. At some point, I’d have to admit to myself I wanted this. Wanted him. That having him around in more than a passing-hello way made my pulse skip rope, and I was okay with it.

Being honest about that didn’t change the nagging voice, asking me, What happens when he forces me to choose between him and how we act in public again?

He’d apologized and I’d avoided him since because I knew spending time with him would break my resolve.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, to stem the flow of conflicting thoughts. It didn’t work.

The doorbell ringing did the trick, though.

I grabbed my purse, gave myself one last glance in the mirror, and tried to pretend I wasn’t hurrying to answer the door. The way Ramsey looked me over, eyes wide and lips pursed in a silent whistle, didn’t erase my frown. He and Hunter were dressed casually, in T-shirts and jeans. Though Ramsey’s look was more expensive than my dress.

“Ah. It’s that kind of night.” I forced a chuckle. “Give me five, so I can change.”

“Don’t you dare.” Ramsey grabbed my wrist before I could turn away, his rough grip sending a fresh wave of desire through me.

I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, and gestured down with my free hand. “I’m not—”

“You’re fine. Better than fine. Fuck.” Ramsey finished with a low hiss.

At least the dress had the desired effect. I handed Hunter his freshly washed clothes. “Thank you for these.”

He handed the shirt back. “Pull this on.”

“It doesn’t really match.”

“It’s perfect. Trust me.” His smile was more friendly than hungry, setting an odd contrast of tone. He jerked his thumb behind him. “You’ll see the rest outside. Come on.”

I pulled on his T-shirt, feeling silly as it hung down almost as far as my dress. I trusted him, though.

We headed down to the parking lot, where Ramsey’s Cheyenne waited in a visitor spot. Not that I’d ever seen it before, but it was the most ostentatious-but-practical-for-the-weather thing here. The locks clicked off with a flash of lights, and Hunter headed for the back of the vehicle. He emerged after only a few seconds, holding two suit coats and ties.

That was so familiar, it muted my muddled emotions around Ramsey and my dress. Both men slipping on the ties over their T-shirts, then shrugging into the jackets was less expected, but it did even things out with my modified outfit.

Ramsey held the front passenger door for me, and grasped my fingers for balance as I stepped up in the seat. Hunter passed me a tablet between the seats, from the spot he’d settled into behind me. There was a bullet-point list on the screen that had to be his.

“This is what Dottie has planned for tomorrow. If she needs a decision from you, it says so. If you have veto power, it says that too. Some things had to be set in stone from the start, like location, so I apologize you don’t have 100% control.” Hunter leaned in to indicate specific list items. With him this close, his aftershave teased me, and softer memories flitted in my thoughts. Of great conversation. Of curling up next to him and falling asleep. Of so many things.

What was wrong with me?