1000Plants

“My dad apparently bought a life long membership to this club, I guess.” You huffed, shuffling your phone in one hand and your jacket in the other.

“Mmh. Well. That’s one perk to moving all the way across the country from me.” Charlie, undoubtedly your closest friend from California, grumbled.

A doorman opened the main doors for you, you acknowledged him with a spared glance. Listening for the telltale sound of your personal driver closing your - your fathers - Mercedes-Benz’s doors before you let your focus hone in on the country club.

“I know,” Charlie could most definitely hear your teasingly pouty tone, you only exaggerated it further, “It’ll be soooo hard to deal with me being gone for one whole month!”

It was mostly dead inside the club. A few workers here and there, but with it being 1 pm on a Wednesday, the actual paying customers were sparse. “Listen, as much as I’d love to stand around talking more, I’ve gotta find my father. Later, Char.”

You were unimpressed with most of what you saw as you entered. Massachusetts could be nice at times, but it had nothing on LA. 

The plants lining the entrance, though trimmed nicely, were clearly struggling with the climate. The flowers were freshly planted, so they either died constantly or they sunk thousands of dollars to replace them with the season. The bushes were trimmed into rounded points but lacked a depth of color.

Though the inside was better. Clearly updated with a modern stone that still kept a classy look. 

But whatever. Your parents paid for you to come visit for a while and your father had gotten this membership when you were still inside your mother. So, yeah, you were going to take advantage of something in this place.

“Hello,” You slowly drawled to the woman working the counter. She flashed you a charming smile as you did a quick once over her form. Clearly put together, hair nicely pulled back into a low ponytail, makeup not caking or flaking. Good. “I’m supposed to be meeting my dad here? Mr. Ross.”

“Yes! He mentioned someone was coming to visit,” The woman chirped as she reached to grab a few papers, “Family, I assume?”

“Yes, I’m-” Just as you started, a man had rounded from one of the adjacent hallways and collided squarely into you. “OW!” 

You felt a liquid seeping into your shirt, it was champagne from what you could smell. Ugh, you'd have to toss the whole thing! Which was a shame... you kinda liked it.

Furious, you swiveled on your heel and faced the man head on. The commotion around you was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, the desk worker called for assistance.

“Watch where you're going! Jesus fucking Christ!" You sneered at the man, tugging at your shirt to gauge the damage he caused. When you looked up at him, his face was already pink, undoubtedly from embarrassment.

Oh… holy shit he was hot.

"Watch where I’m going?" The man repeated. He wore a scowl on his face, his brown eyebrows pulled tight into the center of his forehead. He rolled his shoulders back, one hand slicking back his hair.

Immediately, your scowl fell. You blinked at him, forcing your brain to not go blank.

ugh, you could get lost in those eyes…

This man was easily the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen in your life! But your pride was too valuable to let go. Biting the inside of your cheek, you started texting Charlie, no longer sparing this random worker your gaze. 

"Yes?” you snipped, working hard to keep venom in your tone, “Is this your first day or something? 

“Tell my dad I’m going home.” You said offhandedly to the woman at the counter. Gritting your teeth together and muttering, "Would've thought they'd be more competent."

"Brat. I don't work here." The man crossed his arms over his chest. You looked back up at him, unconvinced. He was nice to look at, good face, tall, nice body from what you could tell. Especially if he took off those clothes.

Damn. As pretty as the guys back home were, it’d be a lot easier to get a guy if they looked like him.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips pursed ever so slightly, almost like he could read your thoughts. He couldn't though, right? Your teeth ached as you clenched them.

An actual worker flitted around you both to clean the mess he made. There was a hint of amusement in the way he stood. You straightened your back a little more.

"You sure? Because, well," with a finger you gestured up and down his outfit, "mmm. Not good."

He laughed. A rough and quick one. 

What would a genuine one sound like?

"What? This season's Ralph Lauren? ‘Not good.’"

"This season Ralph Lauren is doing neutrals, dumbass." You roll your eyes and sigh. "This color," you reached out and felt the material between your fingers, lingering longer than you needed to, "was from last year. '25 was blue, '26 is tan.”

He flushed an even deeper red, sputtering again some kind of retort, but you'd stopped listening. Hot or not, this guy wasn't worth your time. 

-----

Though you'd manage to escape the disaster that was the country club for the last week or so, your father was incessant you come for the summer welcome party.

“There's people he wants you to meet, darling.” Your mother explained for the umpteenth time.

“Very important people, they have kids your age too! You won't be bored.” He hastily added.

“Kids, dad?” You sighed, tapping your foot on the tile of the kitchen floor, “I truly hope you mean people my age and not literal 10 year olds.”

Your mother laughed and your dad gave a sympathetic smile, “Yes, sorry, I forgot parents don't call their children kids.” He teased.

“It's the Thromblys I want you to meet,” He continued on as your mother reapplied lipstick and he adjusted his button up once more. “Harlan is a fantastic writer, his kids all help him within his company. I'm hoping for a merger, so please play nicely.”

----

You googled Harlan in the car ride to the club. He was old.

Very old.

There was very little hope that his kids were anywhere close to your age.

Though the pool area of the club was truly the highlight.

It overlooked the main golf green, up a level to allow for ample sun and less distractions. But with the summer welcome party in full swing, everything was a distraction.

Monica, Eloise, Henry, and Ty were all in similar boats as you. Monica and Henry were engaged already, having been childhood friends who met at this club. They flew in from Nevada just a few days ago.

Eloise was the youngest of you all at 24. She just started working for her mother's jewelry business as a merchandise manager.

Ty was a newer member. His family moved to the North East just last year. Running a restaurant that you recognized from your parents gushing about it.

“So, how's Cali?” Monica asked as she handed you a drink. Henry was glued to her side, hand groping at any exposed skin he could manage. “We're thinking about moving!”

“Fuck… I miss it.” You sighed, scanning the people. You were admittedly searching for a familiar face, yet you knew Charlie wasn't going to magically show up.

“I've only visited, but holy shit, the gay scene there is killer. And the sex is something else.” You laughed at Ty’s dreamy expression, not arguing with him for even a second.

“Speaking of the sex,” Monica wiggled her eyebrows.

“Barren, unfortunately.” You pressed your tongue to your teeth as you shifted your weight on your feet.

It wasn't from lack of trying. It was this annoying game of cat and mouse you had with every single man you got with. The chase was fun, but their desperation bored you quickly. And the ones that caught your eye ended up being dull in the long run.

You weren't above a one night stand, you weren't a prude! But at the same time you were itching for something a little more substantial.

And it wasn't like you could talk to your family about it. Knowing your parents, they'd set you up with some snobby asshole and expect a wedding in 2 years.

As their only child, your place in their company was an open secret. Marriage to secure funds, marriage to maintain your lifestyle… blah blah blah! When you left for California, it was supposed to be easy to find a guy for that!

“Oh we need to fix that!” Eloise immediately scanned the pool with an urgency you'd never seen before. It might be something to do with the three mimosas she's already had, but who could say.

“Not with any of these fucks,” you grumbled, downing half your drink in one go.

“Oh, I don't know…” Ty's face curled into a mischievous grin, “The guys over there are, phew!”

The group of men he was ogling over weren't half bad. Most in their 30’s. Stereotypically tall and buff and jock-ish. They flipped between acting like frat boys, pushing each other into the pool and shoving each other while obnoxiously laughing, and standing so stiffly you might've confused them for statues.

Statues that most definitely laughed like “Ha💸 Ha💸Ha💸”

“Mmm, yeah, I guess.” You shrugged. Following Monica and Eloise to lounge chairs, Ty continued explaining who was who.

“That's James Barnes, he works with Curtis Everett to run a security company.” The man with shoulder length hair had faint scars all across his body, some much bigger than others. He also had a metal arm… Charlie would like him a lot. The other man looked much more stoic, hair buzzed short, jaw clenched, and a broody look.

Mmh … not your type.

Eloise's eyes grew as big as sauces as she dreamily sighed, “That one is Steve Rogers…”

The man she gestured to looked like someone straight from a movie, — straight from a Hollywood movie. Tall, blonde, water blue eyes, and he was chiseled as all hell. It was easy to see why she was enamored. 

You look at her from the corner of your eye, “Gonna talk to him?” Your shoulder bumped hers teasingly.

She looked at you like you'd suggested murder, “WHAT?” Realizing how loud she was, she hushed herself, “Are you crazy?! That man could have whoever he wanted and I don't think he wants anything like me!”

“Oh come on!” Monica laughed, “El, you're a catch! And you're young. You could probably get any of these guys.”

“Just, lay off the drinks a little,” You grinned and took her empty glass.

“You should talk to Lloyd. He's fun.” Henry half offered. Monica smacked his arm and muttered for him to play nice.

Confused, you glanced at Ty, “Lloyd?”

Ty shook his head definitively. “Nope. No way. He's way too freaky. Like, world class creep. I don't think he's slept with the same person twice.”

“Yikes. Yeah, I'll pass.”

You all gauged the people again, now with slightly lower standards. A few more guys were pointed out to you, but you just felt like they were all the same you could get back in California.

Not that a guy from Maine was likely to stand out, anyways.

Plus, if you were going to be disappointed, it wasn't going to be long distance.

“Oooh, wait! Where's Ransom?” Monica sat up and squinted.

“Ran’s a good one,” Ty admitted. Eloise echoed her agreement.

“Who names their kid Ransom?” You laughed, but they were hardly listening.

“No, trust me, Ransom is fine.” The hint of want in Ty's voice was not lost on you. “You want a man to be a little challenge? That's Ransom Drysdale for you.”

As they looked, you saw someone who caught your eye. He wasn't someone that stood out, per se, but there was something that drew you in.

It was unfortunate you couldn't see his face since his back was to you, but it was a great back. Broad shoulders, a hint of muscle underneath, but not chiseled enough to seem like he spent every waking moment at the gym. 

“Who's that? By James and Curtis?” Your voice came out a little breathy as you subtly craned your head.

Monica smiled and nodded, “That, my friend, is Ransom.”

“Ransom…” You whispered his name, wishing desperately that he'd turn around so you could see him. It seemed every moment you nearly saw his face, someone stepped in the way. It only built your anticipation.

You stood, acting like you were stretching your legs, but really you were seeing if there was any way for you to catch a glimpse of this man.

His hair was damp, beads of water glistened off his body and there was a single droplet running down his spine. You faintly watched as it slowed down the lower curve of his back before disappearing into his shorts. Your face felt hot as those kinds of thoughts rushed to your brain. Your eyes flicked back up as he combed his fingers through his hair, pushing it back and shaking it.

Attempting to take a deep breath in, you felt the air stutter in your lungs. It was a bit embarrassing to think about how you'd act if you actually talked to the man!

With a mind of their own, your legs carried you closer. You just wanted to say hi! Introduce yourself, maybe mention your dad a little…

You heard your name called, but it was in one ear and out the other. Until your dad grabbed your elbow and tugged you back into the moment. Pulled back to the moment, flushed, you robotically muttered a hello and tried to school your face.

“C’mon, Harlan is here. And his grandson, Hugh, wants to meet you.” Your dad winked and wiggled his eyebrows. His tone dripped with that open secret; that he and your mom were itching to marry you off. They weren't super pushy about it, but it hung between you in every conversation.

“Hugh?” You repeated, nose scrunching. There was an attempt to force a smile, but it was hard to do anything genuinely when Ransom was just over there!

“He is your age, your mother checked! A year or so older, I believe.” You dad chuckled. Begrudgingly, you followed.

“Is he cute?” You mumbled hopefully. Just over at the bar, your mother was talking to a much much older man.

“I'm not sure if we'd agree on what ‘cute’ means, kiddo.”

That was for certain.

The man your mom was talking to must've been Harlan. If it wasn't, you'd have to quiz your dad on how old he thought you were.

“Harlan!” Smiling brightly, your father wrapped an arm around your shoulders and squeezed you tightly, “This is who I was telling you about.”

Harlan smiled cordially and you shook his hand, mumbling a soft “Nice to meet you.” He looked a lot like a generic grandfather with the blatant refusal to wear anything not tropical.

“I’ve heard a lot about your parents line of work.” Harlan smiled brightly. For a man his age he still seemed quite sharp. He launched into a spiel about the business, and the next generation taking over. You, the good little protigee you were, nodded along and parroted back all of the talking points your parents had drilled into you since you were a toddler.

From a young age you had learned how to sell yourself as a competent leader, but not too forthcoming. You could be the face of the brand, but you wouldn’t be egotistical. You knew your way around financial lingo, but wouldn’t dare talk over someone with more experience! Blah blah blah! It was all shit you’d said over and over.

Though you could feel your parents' pride. Your father’s anxious tic of wandering eyes was on full display as they darted between you, Harlan, and your mother. There was a breath of ease once you got to the point of silently nodding and smiling as Harlan talked about himself (and about something not directly related to his books!).

“And- ah! That reminds me!” He chuckled and jokingly smacked his head, “I’ll fetch Hugh, I told him to stay close.” Harlan held up a single, wrinkled finger, pointing it as if he was stating something important.

“Fuckin- bugs,” you mumbled under your breath, leaning down to swat away a mosquito by your ankles. Harlan called for Hugh, his voice carrying impressively over the swell of people. 

“I’d like you to meet Lance and Diane Ross,” Harlan introduced your parents first, and you looked up at his grandson as he introduced you.

Looking up from a bug bite, you were met with something much worse. Him.

“I told you to call me… Ransom…” Ransom -- Or Hugh -- had started with the same false and cordial tone before he trailed off. His smile faded as fast as yours did.

“You.” You gasped, the shock was brief before your eyes were narrowing accusatorily. It was crazy how just the sight of this guy had you stiffening and crossing your arms, shielding away from him, protecting your top from any stray champagne he’d fling your way!

“You!” His mimic was less accusatory and more surprised, but even still he pulled back the same as you.

“Oh lord…” Your mother whispered. 

“You’ve… met?” Your father anxiously asked. He and Harland shared in their confusion as you and Ransom stared at each other.

It was beyond annoying how absolutely conflicted your body was. Annoyance pumping through your veins and lust following just behind it. The heat that had your face flushing, heart clenching, and core wanting was luckily mostly written off as the sun beat down.

“He spilled champagne on me.” You deadpanned. Each word like venom from your lips. The scowl on his face was the same as it was when you’d last met. But you didn’t like it.

“Oh…” your father breathed out, shifting on his feet and trying to soothingly rub your arm. “He did. I-I thought you said it was a worker?”

“They dress the same.” You grumbled.

Ransom scoffed, his brilliant blue eyes filled with a fire. “Sorry, I don’t buy new clothes constantly.”

“I-!” You wanted to retort badly! But there was something about him (not something, it was definitely the fact he was shirtless, tanned, tall, and underwear ruining gorgeous) that had you tongue tied.

“Ransom-” Harland scolded, slapping Ransom's arm lightly.

Ransom bit his tongue as he wordlessly conversed with his grandfather. You didn’t know what was silently being said as they pursed their lips and shared pointed looks.

He then cleared his throat. In the blink of an eye, his scowl softened, and though you could still see the hint of annoyance in his eyes, he let out a soft breath and held out his hand to you, “Hey, sorry, I'm Ransom. It's nice to meet you.”

His palm was tilted up slightly, not a callous nor blemish in sight. Blinking owlishly at it, you parted your lips and tried to speak.

But you couldn't conjure anything. The wind was out of your sails. The switch up he managed to do threw you off, but it excited you all the same.

All too quickly – yet still a few seconds too late to look natural – you clumsily grabbed his hand to shake, “Hi.”

Holy shit his hands are soft. And mine are fucking sweaty-! Oh my godddd!!! 

Mentally you were running in circles, physically you were awkwardly pulling your hand away and letting it flop next to your side. 

“It'snicetofinallymeetmeetyou.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you got the chance to breathe between them. Hastily, you gave him your name as well. Internally, you cringed, your mouth was determined to work faster than your brain.

Everyone politely and awkwardly chuckled at your spluttering. Your father said something about how cordial you could be. Harlan smiled warmly and noted that Ransom could be prickly at times, but what good was a future CEO if not?

Though Ransom puffed his chest a little at the praise, his attention wasn't on anyone but you.

But that's normally how these things played out. You and he were cut from the same cloth in that way. Just little trophies of success for your family to flaunt.

Your eyes met his and your ears grew warmer. The corner of his mouth twitched, a small smile line creasing his cheek as he bit back something bigger. It wasn't a mean smile, more so playful. 

But in the sense that you felt like a flighty rabbit and he was a house cat watching from the window.

------

“Oh God!” You bemoaned once you made it back to your own group.

Ty handed you a bottle of water and you hastily drank it down. In just a few minutes of conversation you'd developed the world's dryest mouth (wettest underwear) and your head was spinning.

“Okay! So! You met Ransom!” Ty tried to keep the energy light, but your reaction was casting a cloud over the mood.

“How was it? What’d everyone say?” Monica asked, approaching the subject with a softer tone.

You took a deep breath through your nose, crunching the empty plastic bottle, and you told them about the whole spilt drink fiasco. And how you totally lost your cool mere minutes ago.

“Oh… oh no…” Was all Eloise managed to say. She shared a look with Ty and Monica, Henry had managed to also pay attention to something other than Monica's body and was a bit stunned.

“I got his number,” You said weakly.

This was out of your wheelhouse. You didn't fall for guys like this! It was always guys falling for you! You weren't supposed to be the one all tongue tied!

It'd be shameful if it was for anyone but him.

“That's good!” Monica's voice was still an octave higher than normal and she patted your back comfortingly.

“But, Harlan and your dad wanted you to…?” Ty pressed on. 

“Ransom and I need to court. Kind of.” You shrugged and with a heavy sigh plopped into a chair. “I only half listened, I think it's just for a few parties Harlan is throwing.”

Really, you were listening about an eighth of the time, only tuning in and nodding along sweetly when Ransom's gaze left you and fell onto someone else.

“They just want it to look like Ransom can hold down a date for longer than a night.” You pouted and hunched over yourself, face in your hands. 

Ty sat next to you, hand gently squeezing your shoulder, “This is good! Why are we sad? You get to dress up all nice and go out as his date!”

“Because I made myself look like an IDIOT!” Your hands flung in the air and you couldn't help that you immediately sought out him again.

You winced and rubbed your stomach, it was still doing flips and cartwheels. It didn't help that every time you looked at him they spiked.

“Well, when's the first party? I'm sure we could probably help…” Eloise offered kindly. She managed to not drool over Steve for just a minute, all to help.

Shit. Right. The first party.

“Next Saturday.”

Monica nodded, a hopeful and determined smile on her face, “Plenty of time.”

-----

The party started off boring. And, now nearly half way through, was still boring.

Having yet to meet up with Ransom directly, you’d been pushed around by your parents to mingle and socialize with whomever was invited.

From what you gathered, any possible merger between your dad’s company and Harlan’s was extremely beneficial for both of them. And in any other scenario, you’d be very very happy for them.

But in reality it was bad news for you.

“Char, I feel so nauseous.” You whispered into your phone, having finally found a secluded area away from the crowd.

“Hey, breathe, okay?” Charlie offered kindly, they lead you through a breathing exercise for a moment before asking you for more context.

“I think they’re really gonna commit to me marrying him… Or do something just as rash to solidify a good contract.” You worried your lip with your finger nails, picking and pulling. A terrible habit you hadn’t been able to shake.

“Pump the breaks, you're gonna start spiraling.” Charlie was the rational one. Which was easy since they didn't have to worry about barbaric marital customs!

“I haven't even seen him yet.” You hissed, glaring at the flooring that dared to be in this corner, “So, not only am I making a huge fool of myself, he doesn't even bother to play along.”

You tucked yourself further into the corner, wiping sweaty palms on your clothes. Charlie continued to try and calm you down, but you weren't listening to anything. With a sigh you rested your head on the cool stone and squeezed your eyes shut.

The noise behind you was growing louder, music fading from orchestra to party as the night drawled on.

“Ok? Can you do that?” Charlie asked. The desperation in their tone had you immediately replying “Yes.”

They sighed, seeming far more confident in you than before, “Great… So, go out, find him, and let him know that!”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. The cold tile against your skin sent a shiver down your spine. What the fuck did you agree to?

“Okay, yeah, I will.” You croaked. Your fingers ached as you clutched your phone tighter, “Bye, Char…”

“You've got this! I know you do.”

Tears welled in your eyes as they hung up, leaving you with no shield anymore. 

With a shaky breath in, and a low breath out, you shoved your phone away and straightened up.

You'd flirted with countless men. You'd been courted by just as many. You'd wormed your way out of each and every one of those pairings, so you'd just do it one last time.

He was hot as hell. He was a pain in your ass. He was keeping you from going back to California.

-----

“You snake.”

Finally you'd found him. Bouncing between a group of singles your age and the married men. He was decently good at playing both sides.

“Me?” Ransom looked shocked but there was nothing genuine about it. He smiled and turned towards the group of singles, you followed. “Why’d you care? Not like Harlan or your dad were here.”

“They were at the start, dumbass.” You sneered. Not caring in the slightest that the people in the group were looking at you. You could see one girl still had the tag on her Versace dress. Probably returning it later.

“Wait, they were?” Ransom's eyes went wide and his face paled slightly. Versace girl shifted closer to him and tried to tug him away from you. Ransom unconsciously reached out for her arm.

You glared at her, only momentarily before looking back at Ransom, “Yes. Jesus fucking Christ. Look. I don't think either of us want this,” well… “So, you can call it off better than I can.”

Ransom looked you up and down. Like for the first time he was truly taking you in. He blinked at you.

“What if I don't want to?” The woman trying to hang off his arm looked confused. His hand fell from her elbow as he cocked his head.

“Why wouldn't you? I want to go back to California.” You all but stomped your foot, glaring at him and pressing your toes harshly against the floor.

He grinned. Wide to show off his beautiful teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, “I don't doubt that for a second. You are stereotypically Californian.”

From anyone else that'd be a compliment.

“And what does that mean?” You crossed your arms. 

He stepped closer, fully in your space. You blinked but your brain was already struggling to think clearly. His hand cupped your elbow, tugging you to both pull you closer and force your arms apart.

“You're a huge brat with an ego for days.”

Your nostrils flared, but you couldn't muster the words out to argue back.

But he saw the question in your eyes that you didn't ask. Why not call it off? Why not go back to normal? Surely this deal wasn't that good…

“You're more fun than any of the others my grandfather has tried to set me up with. It's a win-win for everyone.”

“How do I win?” You asked, eyes flickering across his face. His lips pursed less when he was being honest.

“The courting would be all contractual. And I'll be willing to bet there's nothing stopping you from ‘visiting’ California all the time.”

Your mouth opened, and closed, and opened again. Shit, you could kiss him. Cali whenever you wanted? Finally getting your parents off your ass? Fix his wardrobe? 

There was then that little voice in your ear. Fuck it, go for it, take what you want and do what you want!

And what did you want? To fuck Ransom.

You grabbed his shirt, lower by his belt line, your voice was shaky yet certain as you whispered in his ear sweetly, “How quickly can you take your clothes off?”

He smiled wide and his eyes gleamed a brighter blue. Ransom's hand sneaked around your waist, “For you? How fast you want ‘em off?” 

-----

Here’s some extra smut that didn’t fit super nicely into the main fic lol, this was already much longer than I planned, but enjoy!

-----

“Why would you think I'd ever let this go?” He panted into your ear, punctuating his own words with a firm thrust. One hand was gripping bruises into your hips -- deliciously painful bruises -- his other held your jaw to keep you from having your face pressed to the wall.

Having voiced your annoyance with him earlier (he had been seemingly flirting with various people at the party, and thus you did the same), Ransom was showing - no, proving - to you he was serious.

You keened and your face scrunched up in pleasure. Pitifully you clawed and tried to find purchase against the wall. Your thighs were on fire, trembling and spasming with each clap of his thighs against your own.

“Ransom!” It was hard to say anything else at this point. He'd pulled a few orgasms from you already and seemed hell bent on making sure you weren't going to be walking straight.

“What?” He goaded, his own voice faltering with a low moan, “Cat got your tongue?”

You heard the smile in his tone and felt his teeth nip at your ear. With your struggling to open, you saw his blue eyes from under his lashes.

“Ran–” Colors and shapes danced in your vision, your eyes squeezed shut again as the pleasure built more and more. You moaned and arched under his grasp.

He grunted in appraisal, hips snapping faster, “That's right baby, that's who's got you going dumb.”

His fingers and lips caressed and kissed your body. Finding each sensitive patch of skin he could to send you over the edge faster, “C’mon, one more for me and I'll let ya lay in bed, ‘k?”

That was all that you needed to let go. A flash of white in your vision, your body tensing up in his hold, and ecstasy lighting up every nerve in your body.