Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research

"You know, I think I'm really beginning to love the feel of your beard on my skin."

"You mean you didn't always love it?" His tone is playful and I laugh.

Turning in his embrace, I slide my hands up and around his neck. He bends to trail kisses along my collarbone. "No, I've never been a beard lover."

He continues to bless me with his lips, making his way up my neck to my jawline. "If you've ever been with another guy with a beard, now is most definitely not the time to mention it, sweetheart. In fact, never would be a good time to mention it." His voice has changed from playful to growly and desire pools in my belly.

"Wait, is this jealous Tanner I'm meeting?"

His blue eyes meet mine and he nods. "You bet your arse this is jealous Tanner you're meeting."

"Wow, you're so laid-back I didn't think you would have it in you to be jealous."

"I don't usually, so this is surprising the hell out of me, too." And there's his trademark honesty I'm falling for. He jerks his chin towards the fridge behind me that's still open. "What's for lunch?"

I grin because I think he's actually trying to change the subject, and so far we haven't stumbled across a topic he won't discuss. But I give him this because I don't want to make him jealous by discussing it further. "Salad."

He pulls a face. "Salad?"

"You don't like salad?"

Letting me go, he takes a step back. "Do you honestly know any man who likes salad?"

"Trust me, you're going to love mine."

He crosses his arms over his chest. "Okay, let's see what you've got."

I grab out all the ingredients I need and assemble a curried-chicken salad I hope he's going to love. Cooking is something my mother taught me from a young age. Because we were poor and often didn't have a lot of ingredients to work with, she had to learn how to be resourceful and create her own recipes.

Tanner receives a call while I'm getting it ready and leaves me to take it. When he returns, concern is etched across his face.

"What?" I ask.

"That was Ana. She needs me to go and pick her up and take her to her house." He answers my question, but he seems miles away, like he's processing something in his mind.

I move to where he stands and place my hand on his chest. "Tanner, what? What is wrong with her?"

He blows out a long breath and rakes his fingers through his hair. "Ana has this on-off affair with the drummer from the band Diesel, and he's in town at the moment. They just had a huge fight at his hotel and she's holed up in his room because the paparazzi are waiting outside."

My business brain kicks in. "Where's Kadence?"

"Fuck, I told Ana not to even call her, but turns out she's nowhere to be found anyway."

"You don't like her?"

"Hell no. I've been telling Ana to get rid of her for at least a year now. If the bitch isn't causing trouble for Ana, she's snorting coke or sleeping with every asshole they meet instead of doing her job."

I reach for my phone. "Yeah, I can't figure out why she keeps her around." I search for Anastasia's number, and at Tanner's enquiring look, I say, "I'm just giving her a quick call. Give me a moment before you go."

"Juliette?" She answers my call and I know instantly that she's a mess.

"Tell me what happened."

Her sob tears through my phone and I am furious with the man who has done this to her even though I don't know him. "I had a fight with Joe…. He punched me and then left, and now I'm stuck in his room with a bruise on my face and a torn dress. I didn't want to call Tanner because he may lose his shit when he sees me, but he's all I have. And I really can't afford any more bad press. If the paps see my bruise…." She begins crying again as I clench my fist by my side.

"I'm coming with Tanner. We'll fix this. You just wait there, okay?" I walk towards my bedroom as I speak; I need my tools.

In between sobs, she agrees with what I've said and we end the call. I shove my phone in my pocket as I enter my bathroom, and begin dragging what I'll need from my drawers.

"What are you doing?" Tanner asks from the doorway to my bathroom.

I don't look at him as I sort through my make-up and pack what I need. "I'm just gathering what she needs and I'll come with you."

"Juliette, what's going on? Why does she need make-up?"

I pack the last of my supplies and zip the bag shut before finally giving him my attention. Shit, I'm going to have to tell him what's really happened. He's going to find out anyway, I guess, and at least this way he'll be prepared. "He tore her dress and punched her. She needs something to walk out of there in and make-up to cover the bruise he gave her."

He processes what I said and the vein in his neck pulses while he balls his fists. "Fuck!"

A.C. Bextor, Teresa Gabelman, S.R. Grey, Nina Levine's books