Lorelei James - Bound

“Which is why I mentioned it. Your father doesn’t need it to get out that his daughter is under some kind of investigation.”

And there it was . . . the concern wasn’t about her but about the pastor’s sterling reputation.

“The other reason I called was to remind you of your father’s anniversary party. Thirty-five years serving the Lord is a very big occasion in his life, and we expect you to be here to help celebrate it.”

Since she worked for herself she couldn’t claim her boss wouldn’t give her the time off. “If I come I’ll probably stay at the Super 8.”

“Aren’t you staying with us?” her mother asked sharply.

Hell no. “I assumed you’d save beds for out-of-town guests so they didn’t have to book a hotel room.”

“Oh. That’s probably a good idea.”

“I’ll let you know after I’ve made my reservation what day I’m flying in.”

“Flying in? That seems a little frivolous when you’ve got a nice car.”

Ten hours in the car one way? Uh. No.

“It would be nice if you’d get here a few days early to help with the cooking and cleaning.”

Maybe you should guilt Dad’s parishioners into doing it. She really needed to get off the phone before the snarky comebacks in her head started popping out of her mouth. “I’ll let you know about my, uh, schedule.”

Her mother’s disapproval hummed across the line. “I’ll be in touch. God bless.” She hung up.

“And bless your heart too.” She refused to let her mother ruin her good day and happy buzz. She popped a huge bowl of popcorn and settled in for a marathon night of bad TV until Ronin called.

BUT Amery didn’t hear from Ronin that night.

Or the next day.

Or the next night.

And she’d be damned if she’d call him first. It wasn’t a childish thing, but rather an adult thing. Accepting that she could have casual sex and not feel guilty. Granted it’d been amazing sex, best sex of her life. Now that she knew firsthand she wasn’t an iceberg in the sack, maybe she could jump back into the dating pool.

Over the past three years she’d been focused on building her business, and not wanting the distraction of a relationship was a valid reason for remaining single. But she could admit part of her reluctance had been fear. Tyler’s parting shot scared her. “You’re fucked up, Amery. You’ll never be normal because you’re afraid your daddy will find out you like sex. The only time you get on your knees is to pray, and what man wants to live like that?”

Well, fuck that and fuck him. She didn’t want to be normal. She wanted to be outstanding. She had friends. She had a good life. She had lots of things to be thankful for. And she’d damn well celebrate it and not wait for a man to swoop in and make her life complete.

So early Sunday morning she showed up for the yoga in the park class she’d always wanted to attend. Afterward she walked around, savoring the gorgeous summer day. Happy families, happy singles, happy dogs. On the way home she decided she’d throw a dinner party. After she invited her friends and tallied up the number of guests plus more for last minute add-ons, she stopped at her favorite market to load up on food. Fresh pasta, ingredients for a basil cream sauce, loaves of French bread, the makings for a salad, and double chocolate brownies.

Amery quickly cleaned her house and cranked the tunes while she prepared the food. As she was trying to figure out where everyone would eat without ending up in the office space downstairs, she had a crazy idea. She had roof access through a narrow staircase.

She checked it out. It’d be cooler up here once the sun dropped. And there was a decent view of the city blocks to the north. The space wasn’t in the same league as Ronin’s, but it’d do for tonight.

Emmylou and her latest squeeze—a big-breasted blonde with a Marilyn Monroe vibe—showed up early and helped her. They dragged two conference tables up to the roof, covering them with sheets of brown paper and scattering mismatched candles in funky containers. Wrapping clear Christmas lights around the ductwork added a little chic to their shabby. Galvanized garbage cans packed with ice served as coolers for the BYOB party. Then they hung a sign on the alley door directing partygoers upstairs to the roof. She made sure to arm the system and lock access to the office space. Still, it felt weird leaving the back door unlocked, especially after the recent break-in.

After checking her watch, she scaled the stairs and cut to her bedroom to get ready.

By the time she’d piled her hair into a messy bun, fixed her makeup, and changed into her party sundress with the floral poppy print, her guests were arriving.

Chaz brought his latest friend with bennies, a sweet musician named Andre. He’d also invited his neighbors, two straight guys named Jake and Lucas. Rich and Larry, a couple she’d met through Chaz, arrived with booze. Emmylou’s friends Roz and Josie, also Amery’s clients, showed up next. Suze and Mark, the married couple that lived in the loft next door, came and brought Suze’s parents, who were visiting from Seattle.

A lot of people. Good thing she’d made a ton of food.

Molly, always so punctual, showed up last with her date, Sandan Zach from the dojo. Amery hid her shock, and resisted asking if Zach had seen Ronin. She discreetly gave Molly two thumbs-up. Ronin must not have an issue with teachers and students dating—since he was the one who’d initiated things with them.

Things. Just say it. Sex . You had rocking sex with the man, no regrets, no promises.

As she was slicing bread in the kitchen, Chaz’s arms came around her and he squeezed. “Great idea. Perfect night, great company, the food smells amazing, and you’ve created your own rooftop nightclub, which is so fantastic I may sleep up there tonight.”

“Thanks.”

“Where’d you get the idea to host this shindig on the roof?”

She couldn’t tell him about being inspired by Ronin’s secret rooftop garden, so she hedged, “It’s been a long time since I had a par-tay, and I wanted to do something different. Isn’t it fun to see who our friends bring?”

“Or who doesn’t show up.” He swiped a slice of bread and dipped it in the garlic butter before she could swat him. “So, where’s your hunkalicious Master Black tonight?”

“No clue. And he’s not my Master Black. We banged the headboard a couple of times and that’s it.”

Chaz forced her to look at him. “What’s really going on, North Dakota?”

He called her that when he wanted her attention. “Nothing.” She smiled. “It’s all good. I promise. Now, do you think we should haul the food to the roof? Or serve it down here?”

“Down here. Definitely.”

“Would you be so kind as to ring the dinner bell?”

After everyone had gone through the chow line, Amery fixed herself a plate and headed to the roof.

Applause greeted her. Then Emmylou raised her wine cooler. “A toast to the excellent hostess, Amery Hardwick, for arranging such an awesome dinner party. For feeding us and for welcoming old friends and new.”

Amery blushed when everyone toasted her. “I’m just glad you all came and brought friends, or I’d be eating pasta for the next three weeks.”

Laughter.

She seated herself across from Larry and Rich.

Larry patted her arm. “We missed you this week. Chaz said you dragged him to a different bar for happy hour Friday night.”

“Dragged? Please. Chaz put up a token protest. He’s been forcing me to go to Tracks for years. And as much as I love hanging out with you guys . . .”

“Trust me, sweets, I understand. Finding a straight guy who regularly hangs out in gay bars usually means he’s not entirely straight. I don’t blame you for casting a wider net.”