It takes two, p.1
It Takes Two, page 1
It Takes Two by Dee Ellis
© 2023 by Dee Ellis. All rights reserved.
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Cover Design: Bookin’ It Designs
Interior Formatting: Dee Ellis
Publisher: Hummingbird Press
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Hi Reader!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
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Dark & Twisted Tales Series
Thank You for Reading!
About Dee Ellis
More from Dee
Chapter One
Weston
No one should hate where they come from.
And yet, here I am, hating the man I am and the people who helped me become him, Hate is a strong word I suppose. I love my grandfather, a man who never gave a damn what anyone thought about him or any of us. If it was not for him no one would give any of us a second thought.
Grandfather started the life we all live now after immigrating to Silver Shores from Scotland. He came here with nothing but a bottle of his own grandfather’s whiskey. Turning in my chair, I glance at that very bottle, encased glass and teak, preserved once our whiskey enterprise began.
With that one bottle, he started a legacy. One that moved us from the streets to penthouse suites. Well, most of us grew up on the outskirts of Silver Shores, in the huge palatial home Grandfather built with his wife and four children in mind. He wanted us all to grow up out there, to stay close together, to keep the business going as a united front.
Too bad a few of his children were selfish assholes who started to fight over the business once he passed. My father, the one decent enough to stand back while they fought it out, wound up in charge. The others got hefty payouts while he took the reins of a billion-dollar empire.
One I have now taken over since he retired.
“Taking your mother to Aruba,” he told me two months ago as we sat sipping whiskey and smoking cigars in the gardens mother loves. “We never know how much time we have left, son. Why waste a moment of it?”
What he meant to say was mother is sick and he values her over all else. I admire their romance. Despite being head of a six-headed snake, he never missed date night or forgot an anniversary. He told me once when he found her, he found the answer; when I asked the answer to what question, he just smiled and said, “All of them, son. All of them.”
While I could never begrudge his time with her, especially since she is sick, I was not prepared. Two months ago, I was living day to day, doing what I pleased with whoever I pleased whenever I wanted. Now I have meetings, important decisions to make, and people who depend on me.
Being a responsible adult is the last thing I ever planned to be.
With a seemingly endless bank account, trips across the world, the best schools, and indulgent parents, I was a little spoiled. Fine, I was a lot spoiled. I do not know how to drive, I had no idea how to pay bills, and I can burn water if I try to cook. I always had people to do these things.
“Need to make a decision, bro,” Thale tells me, feet kicked up on my desk, his loud bubblegum smacking making my eye twitch.
Turning to glare at him, I laugh instead. Thale has been my best friend since grade school but next to him, I at least look like a full-fledged adult. Sitting in tattered jeans, a hoodie I know he has worn all week, and sandals, he looks like a college kid, not my director of marketing.
Though he looks a bit of a ragamuffin, and that damn gum chewing he never stops annoys the hell out of me, he is a genius at what he does. Which is why I brought him on board when I let go ten of my father’s staff. They were older, tired, uninterested in listening to a young man fresh out of college. Not that I wanted to be the one they had to listen to.
While I have been around Wilde Whiskey my entire life, I never paid attention to how to run the place. I just enjoyed the product. We make the best whiskey in the country, hell if you ask me the world, and we don’t mind telling you that. What I know about how to keep telling people, to keep the company going, could fit in a whiskey glass, however.
“I know I do. I just…what the hell am I doing? Why would he choose me? I am no good at any of this,” I sigh, scrubbing my hand down my face.
I sound miserable because I am. I have barely slept in weeks, I have had no time to myself, and I am sure I am screwing this whole thing up. All I have to do is think the way my father always has. We share just one thing in common, however: our love of one single, spectacular woman.
Being tied to this desk pisses me off because it means I have not seen her in weeks. Tomi Sands. It has been weeks since I saw her. Weeks. It has been so long. I am afraid I will forget what she looks like. What she smells like. I haven’t forgotten that I’ve not had the balls to tell her how I feel.
Tomi is the most beautiful girl in Silver Shores. Maybe the entire world. When I walked into her apothecary shop last spring after it opened, I was blown away. Nearly knocked over her displays because I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“Stop thinking about that girl,” Thale teases me as he blows a big, pink bubblegum bubble.
“Screw you. I need to go see her. It’s been too long.”
Thale laughs because he knows just how unlike me this is. With the entire world at my fingertips, women were never a priority. While I of course love women, enjoy their company, I have never gotten serious with any of them. Not that I have allowed this thing to become serious yet.
Tomi is different, someone you get serious for. Someone you make time for, you try for. I knew it the moment her bright, stunning hazel eyes looked up into mine. It was as if her fingertip had reached out, touching my heart to start it beating right for the first time.
With her wild mess of crimson hair, golden skin kissed with freckles I want to learn with my lips, and a smile that lights up her golden eyes, she is perfection come to life. I was drawn to her from the first moment she looked at me, her light eyes shimmering as they flicked away then back.
“Hi there,” she greeted me from behind the counter, her curvy frame delicious in a bright yellow dress that made her skin glow.
“H-h-hi there. This place is…you are…I am…wow.”
Flushing as she giggled…fucking giggled the cutest sound I have ever heard, I almost wanted to turn and run. I couldn’t. I could not leave that cute little shop once I stepped inside it. Might not have been her first customer but I was her best because I bought two of everything.
For weeks, I went back to the shop every other day. I did not want to be too obvious. I flirted. I bought more shit I did not need. Who needs body milk or bath oils? Tomi flirted back. I am certain of it. I was about to ask her out when my father dropped the bomb I would be our new CEO.
Now I am craving her because I have been deprived of her. I miss her. I miss that cute fucking laugh, the way her eyes light up when they land on me, the way she bites her full, bottom lip when I stare at her mouth. God, I want to taste that mouth so bad. Want to know what she tastes like all over.
“Pick a campaign then, Weston. Get it over with, go get your daily dose of Silver Shores’ newest weirdo. Just do business first.”
Sighing, I send him a glare for calling her a weirdo. Tomi is different than the kind of people Thaler and I know. That difference is what makes her so damn desirable to me. Seeing her is the same as filling my lungs with sweet, fresh air. Which means not seeing her has been stifling.
Glancing at the campaign for the holiday season spread out on my desk, I try to shake my thoughts of Tomi. Try to do what I know I have to. This business is not just about me. We employ hundreds of people all over the country. Being selfish is not an option for me anymore.
“This, I think the woods, the lights, it speaks to what grandfather was about more so than the fancier cottage ones. Yeah, that’s it, Thaler. Good job. I like how it looks, I think it will be a good fit for the spiced run in the fall and winter. Thank you for coming on board with me, I couldn’t do this without you.”
“No, you couldn’t,” he taunts with a grin as he sits forward, gathering up the mockups he worked hard on. “You know, thank you too. I needed this. It means a lot to me that you would trust me to take the lead here.”
“Thaler, there is no one else I would trust besides you. We all make mistakes, don’t we? We all deserve another chance. Now, go prove why I trust you—get that shit done. Going to see my girl.”
“Does said girl know you call her that? Or that you want to?”
“Get out of here before I change my mind about you, bro.” I wave him away as I flush, shaking my head.
Have I told Tomi that I am wild about her? No. Have I ever let her know who I even am besides a wealthy, body milk loving shopper? Also, negative. The last thing I want to do is let her know who I am by day. I am not proud of the spoiled asshole I was for a long time. Not that I am not still that guy a little.
“Mr. Wilde, you have a two-thirty meeting with,” Greta, my assistant, stops as she sees me stride out of my office. Tilting her head, she makes a face, her lips quirking. “Cancel it?”
“Yes, ma’am, cancel it. I will see you tomorrow, take the rest of the day off, sweetheart.”
Grinning as I sail past her, I step out into the crisp afternoon air, a pep in my step. I have not left the office before dark in weeks. It might be the one day I get a chance to. There is so much coming at me with the winter holiday promotion coming. I am not sure how to handle it all.
If I had my way, I would hand this place off to someone else.
Leaving my Rover behind, I walk the few blocks to Tomi’s shop, Suds and Shine. I have heard talk of the store a lot lately. I am strangely proud of how well it is doing. I want it to do well for her. I want her to have everything because she deserves it all.
Rounding the corner, I stop when I spot the store. I have not seen her in so long. I wonder if she wondered where I was. If she missed our chats. Whenever I go in, I pretend to shop until she asks me what Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis movie she ought to watch next. From there, we talk until someone comes to bother her or I am recognized.
After I told her how Scared Stiff is superior to Sailor Beware, she talked about growing up in Sunset Springs where her father was a navy admiral. About how her mother passed away when she was a young girl, breaking both of their hearts, creating a rift she still hopes to remedy.
Pausing outside, I peer in to see her stocking soaps on a shelf, her ass shaking as she sings softly to herself. Just loud enough for me to hear, and I smile because, of course, it’s Taylor Swift. Several bracelets dangle down her wrist and she has told engaging tales about seeing her favorite girl live.
“Hello, little gypsy,” I call my usual greeting as I move behind her, my hands shaking with the urge to touch her.
We have flirted, we have talked about the things a new couple would talk about. Yet, I have no idea if she feels something for me. And how could I when I am too scared to ask? How could she feel anything when I won’t be honest about who I am?
“Hello, mister. What brings you back so soon?”
Turning, she gazes up at me, her stunning eyes light in the late afternoon sunset. I move closer, closer than I have ever dared let myself get. Her breathing comes faster, her hands clutching at the shelf behind her. I want to kiss her. I want to grab her and gather her close, ask her if she will let me keep her.
Her words stop me. Back so soon? It’s been weeks.
“Here I was hoping you missed me, little gypsy.”
Chapter Two
Tomi
It is a good day to have a good day, I decide.
Outside it is cool but sunny, foliage turning crimson and orange as fall approaches. The air smells of the salty sea and bonfires. This is my season. I love the cooler weather and the hint of the coming holidays. If anyone is asking fall is the best time of the year.
Standing in my shop, I smile at the clock. It is late afternoon so most of my foot traffic is done for the day. It was a good day overall, thanks to a new pumpkin spice body butter I just created. Owning an apothecary where I make most of the items myself has given me a chance to create in ways I never thought I could.
When I came to Silver Shores last spring, I was seeking a new start. My father is still back in Sunset Springs, and I miss him, but it was time to go. After we lost mother, he and I struggled being without her. We were close, the three of us, so losing her should have brought us together.
Instead, it seemed to have driven us apart. I could never do anything the way she did, not cook, not clean, not comfort him after a long day as an Admiral at the local naval base. I had to tell him I was his daughter, not his partner so I should not be expected to be what she had been. We had a long talk, we cried, we laughed, and I said I wanted to strike out on my own.
“Yes, daddy,” I couldn’t keep the smile from my voice when we talked just this morning. “I am fine. The store is fine. Everything is fine. Better than fine if I am being honest. Sourcing raw materials here in Silver Shores has made this place a dream come true.”
“Good to hear sweetheart. Perhaps I can come visit for the holidays. Call me next week, love you.”
Promising to call him because he still needs these check-ins from me, I smile at the thought of him here, in Silver Shores. My father is a bit of a…well, he is a snob. We come from money, so he has always had the best of everything. He is a hard worker, who dedicated most of his life to the Navy so being a spoiled brat was never enough for him.
Money never mattered to either of us. Me coming here, opening this store, it was the first time I used money from my inheritance. Creating something, making a difference, doing something that excites you, that matters more than anything money can buy.
“Afternoon, baby girl,” a deep, warm voice calls behind me.
Smiling bigger as a little tremor runs through me, I turn to watch Weston saunter through my front door. God, he is a handsome man. Tall, with thick, dark hair that falls to his shoulders, a thick, luxurious beard, and the most dazzling smile I have ever seen, he is stunning.
Just weeks after I opened the shop he came in and almost cleared me out. Since then, he comes in often. He never buys the same thing, he seems a little different—sometimes even looks a little different—but no matter what, we flirt our asses off. And yet nothing comes of it.
“Well, hello, stranger. What kept you away so long?” Turning from the shelves I was dusting, I tuck my phone away.
Weston’s dark eyes watch move, a crease forming between his brows briefly. I want him to wonder who I was talking to. Was it another man? Or another woman? We have talked a lot over the past months, but we’ve never talked specifics.
Watching the frown melt before it forms, I sigh. There is always something so mysterious about him. Some days, he laughs, flirts, tells me about his travels up the eastern seaboard. Others, he seems dark, down, talking more about being frustrated with his place in life.
“Work. Ain’t it always? How’s this going, baby girl?”
His eyes scan the small shop, pausing at the new things I set out since he has been here last. Last time he came in, he was lighter, teasing me about the new blueberry scrub he tried. This time I doubt he tries my newest, a pumpkin spice one, but maybe he will tell me something about his work.
What little has told me has given me conflicting clues. He told me he loves what he does once. Another time he said he hated filling his father’s footsteps. He mentioned Whiskey and Scotland once but spoke about roughing it if sales were too rough.
“What is it you do, again? This is going well, thank you. People here in Silver Shores have been good to me.”
“As they should. What do I do? Haven’t I told you what I do?”
“No, no you never have. You allude to it. You drop hints. You vague bomb me sometimes. Never came out and said specifically.”
Rounding a counter to walk towards me slowly, he tilts his head. His eyes slide over me, making my stomach flutter. As he gets closer, he picks up a jar of body butter. It is my bestseller. Smells like summertime at the beach, makes your skin glow, and feels delicious when you put it on.
Seeing him close his long, strong around the small bottle, I struggle to breathe. There is something so sexual about his hands. I imagine them tearing at my clothes, eager to get to the skin beneath it. Pushing my thighs open as he fits between them, his big body heavy and hot against me.
