I decide not to answer, but I ask her this instead, “How’d you know Drew was the one?”
She’s contemplative. “I just did. There was no doubt. I was a goner.” She pauses and it looks like she’s staring at me, but I can’t be sure with her eight eyes circling. “Jenna, you have doubts?”
With my lids closed, I grimace.
“Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit. But I thought after all this time, you were just waiting for him to pop the question.”
“I did, too.”
“Fuck, Jenna. What about the sex?”
“What about it?” I ask.
“Is it any good? He does get you off, right?” I’m trying to remember. When exactly was the last time? She doesn’t give me time to answer before she’s firing off more questions at me. “Come on. Does he make your insides shake? Make your legs weak at the knees? You know? Is it better than a hot fudge sundae?”
When I can’t answer right away, she says, “I guess that’s it. For whatever reason, I thought Kenneth was your equivalent to my Drew.”
“He’s Drew on paper.” I pause, trying to voice all the reluctance I’ve had since he put the ring on my finger. “I don’t know, Catie. Do you know he’s planned the entire wedding, I think, down to where I’m going to get my gown?”
“He’s groomzilla?”
“Maybe,” I squeak. “I always wanted a plain wedding. A simple one in a small church. And a reception that was intimate with my favorite people. Where my cake was chocolate with that buttercream icing. Or maybe even elope.” I try to pace around my room, but the floor is as unsteady as a gangplank. “But, Kenneth has taken charge and is telling everyone what kind of dress I’m going to wear. And … there’s something nice about that thought, because it’s like having a wedding planner for a husband. I have to admit, there are parts of him I’m crazy about, too.”
“Go with your gut instinct. That’s the only thing to do. You heart will tell you what’s right.”
What does my heart want?
“Okay.” I’m not so sure. My heart and my brain seem like they are playing a tug-of-war, logic and reason against butterflies and passion. Giving up on an answer, I ask, “Do I have to go to bed now?”
She laughs. “As long as you stay away from the Herradura and other alcohol, I’ll give you a pass.”
We shake on it before we head back down the steps. But for some reason, I keep thinking about how my heart will tell me what’s right. And that thought leads me straight to a vision of sexy tattoos and the hot man they cover. Only he’s off limits and in no way available to me as an option. And maybe that’s the real problem.
Two
BRANDON
After my first customer leaves, a hot brunette who all but begged me to take her to the back and fuck her, I pick up the daily newspaper she left on the counter. Plastered on the front page is a picture that has my hands fisted, and the article is crumpled up before I can read it. The headline was more than plenty for me to get the gist.
“Hello.”
I glance up, not having heard the bell or the man enter the shop’s office.
“Hey, sorry. What can I help you with?”
His eyes travel down my arm, and I’m used to that. The art that’s displayed with colorful ink is meant to get attention. Then his attention focuses lower to the crotch of my jeans. Being that he’s a potential customer, I refrain from telling him I don’t swing that way. It’s not like I haven’t been hit on by guys before and to each his own.
Instead of asking him again what I can help him with, which could lead him to think it’s an opening to a conversation I don’t want to have, I ask, “Is your car giving you problems?”
“Oh, I’m having a problem, and it appears you have more than enough equipment to fix it.” My dick might have responded to the glimpse of Jenna’s picture. Christ Fuck. Now he probably thinks I’m hard for him. “You came highly recommended, and I see why.”
His gaze roams over me, and I have the painful reminder of how women must feel when they are ogled.
“Who recommended the shop?” I do my best to take the personalization out of his comments.
The bell chimes, and a blonde bounces in and wraps herself around the man.
“Hi.” She waves enthusiastically.
She’s a little too bubbly for my taste, and I wonder for a second if she is aware of his proclivities.
The man catches her stare and says, “He’s exactly as described.”
Unable to stand still, I expect her to clap her hands and jump for joy. She doesn’t do that, but her grin is larger than life when she says, “He is and totally your type.”
Their exchange should make me uncomfortable, but I’m too busy being confused as to what they are to each other. They don’t look related like brother and sister, but maybe they are.
“I’m sorry, but I have a busy morning. If you aren’t here to have work done on your car, I’m going to have to get back at it.”
“Oh, the car,” he says. “Yes, my fiancée’s car is giving her some trouble.” He directs his next comment to her, perplexing me as to who these people are. Swingers? “Did you say you heard a rattle, darling?”
She giggles. “Yes, Horace, a rattle. Kind of like the bed this morning.”
He laughs, and I don’t have time for this. I walk around the counter, heading for the front door. I have to move this along because I’d given promises to a couple of clients that their cars would be finished by close of day. There isn’t time to puzzle out the dynamics of the couple even if I did admit a strange curiosity. Not because I was interested.
“Why don’t you pop the hood and start her up for me?” I ask, after they follow me out to the only two cars in the lot.
A white Z4 BMW sits next to what I’m sure is a 1960 Porsche 718, which reminds me of an old TV show, Speed Racer. I’m envious, but say nothing. I assume the BMW is hers, which fits her personality.
“They say you’re the best in town for imports,” he says.
I shrug as I lift the hood to get a look inside. “There is always the dealer.”
“So impersonal,” Horace answers, while his giggling female starts up the car. “Besides, her father is fed up with her and cars. The dealer will run to her daddy and tell him that she’s killed another engine by feeding the car the wrong gas type.”
There is in fact a rattle, but I suspect she’s running short of oil.
“Can you leave it with me, because I can’t promise I’ll get to it today? Tomorrow, most likely. If you want me to do it, I need to get her to fill out some paperwork.” I close the hood and gesture for her to cut the engine.
“We’ll do it.” He sighs. “I guess I’ll cart her around today.”
He sounds put out. I shake my head and go back into the office. I wake the computer and get to the new customer screen.
When they walk in, the woman spots the paper I’ve left destroyed on the counter. She points at the picture that takes up half the front page. “See, it was the party of the week, and we missed it,” she pouts.
Horace is quick to give an annoyed respond. “We weren’t invited.”
“Yes, we were.”
I need to ask her for her name, but they are locked in conversation.
“No, Celia, darling, you were. And I never go where I’m not invited.”
Deciding to cut things to the quick, I ask, “Do you have a driver’s license? I can get your information off there.”
“Sure,” she says brightly, before dumping a purse the size of a gym bag onto the counter.
It takes her a few seconds to dig it out, but she finally hands it over. They continue to talk, and I listen while typing in her name and address. She gushes about the ring the guy gave his fiancée, and I struggle not to fold the license in half.
“It’s bigger than mine,” she complains.
A quick glance and the sparkler on her finger looks like a toy a kid got out of a gumball machine for the sheer size of it.
I give them
the spiel about my fees and contacting them when I know for sure what the problem is before I have her sign the paperwork.
After they leave, I ball up the newspaper, toss it into the trash, and head back into the bays.
“Brandon, you’re phone has been blowing up.”
I glance over at Dana. She doesn’t look happy. Then again, she never does. I catch a hint of her latest ink, a rose that drips blood on the side of her neck.
“If you don’t care, I don’t,” she adds nonchalantly. “You want to come over tonight?”
After a few failed relationships, she’s been my occasional hookup. That, too, had cooled when … I won’t let myself think her name. So fuck it. What was I waiting for anymore? That shipped sailed years ago. “Yeah, sure.”
Nothing else is said, and we get back to work. Later, I hear it. The purr of the engine is so familiar. Jeff, my other mechanic, says, “You want me to get it, boss?”
He’s a quiet one, but he pays attention. No doubt he’s gleaned my mood from all the tools I’ve slammed around with curses and the couple of times I’ve banged my head, not one hundred percent focused on my task.
I put the wrench down. It would be easy to stay hidden under the car and let him send her away, but I might as well get this over with.
“What’s she doing here?” Dana asks, though she’s not necessarily looking for an answer.
It’s more of a complaint. She knows who’s the reason behind why I’d stopped coming around.
I climb the stairs from the underground compartment and grab a dirty towel. I try to get some of the worst grease off my hands, but leave most of it. I walk slowly to the office, and I see her through the window. God damn her. She looks like a ray of sunshine, all golden and beautiful in a way that smells of the kind of money I’ll never have. She’s always been the fantasy I shouldn’t have dreamed. We come from different worlds. There’s never been a shot in the dark that she and I could have more than a friendship.
So why had I allowed myself to be led like a dog on a leash, I’ll never know. The thought allows anger to rise within me, and it serves as the armor I’ll need to send her away.
“Brandon,” she says cautiously as I step through the door.
Her smile is half the size that it normally is. She knows she’s fucked up.
“Miss Rhoades.”
Her cautious glow dims, and she pushes at her brown hair. “You heard.”
It isn’t a question, and I don’t give her an answer. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Brandon, please. Let me explain.”
The need to touch her is so strong, I reach out and snag her hand. She’s so different from me, soft yes, but her skin sings of spas and expensive lotions. That’s when I see it.
“That looks like explanation enough.” The rock on her finger has to be the size of a bolt around a spark plug.
I let her go like she was made of fire just as Dana pushes through the door. Although I don’t like Dana’s little jealousy display as she steps over to me and places a possessive hand on my arm, I say nothing to stop her.
“Can we have coffee?” She glances at Dana and then back to me. “Please?”
The regret in her voice is evident, but it doesn’t take away from the gouge that ring dug into my heart.
“How about after you close for the night?” she pleads, unashamed.
I could give her points for that, but I don’t.
Dana jumps in. “He’s got plans. We’ll be more than a little busy, if you know what I mean.”
Jenna steps back. Hurt flares in her gorgeous eyes along with beautiful pink roses in her cheeks. They match the color of her lips, which I’ve longed to kiss. But we’d kept things casual. I was the fool who’d thought she’d eventually come around and see what we could have together.
“Dana, can you give us a minute?”
She glances at me and searches for anger. We’ll have words, but right now, I need to wrap things up with Jenna. Dana leaves without another word.
“Her?” Jenna accuses.
My brow lifts. “You and I are just friends, right? That’s all we’ve ever been.”
I drop the hand I’d used to point between us.
“You don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t. I can’t be your friend, Jenna.”
“What?”
“I doubt your fiancé would appreciate the thoughts I have about you and have had from the beginning.” I pause. “Does he know how much time you spend with me when he’s away?”
It’s not as much as we used to spend because I’ve tried and failed at dating other people. But still, it’s more time than the guy knows about because she still hasn’t told him about me as far as I know.
She licks her lips, and my cock starts to rise from the dead, the fucker. “We haven’t crossed the line.”
“And how many times have we gotten close? I can’t do this anymore with you. It’s not fair to either of us.”
“Brandon.”
Waving her off, I say, “I have work to do. Go back to Kenneth, whatever his name is. That’s what your parents want.”
I don’t wait for a reply. Work still has to get done. She doesn’t follow, and it’s a while before I hear the sound of her engine. I close my eyes when I do. Our friendship was accidental. I fell for her in the same manner.
When the day is over and Jeff’s gone, Dana saunters over.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Actually, I’m going to call it a night,” I say.
She runs a hand through her short black hair. “You are not turning me down because of her. She doesn’t deserve you.”
“It’s not her.”
Her hand comes up to her chest. She’s not busty, so her fingers spread easy as she feigns hurt.
“It’s me?”
I shrug. “Maybe I don’t want to lead you on because there’s never going to be an us.”
Anger is quick to burn in those eyes of hers.
“Fuck you, Brandon. Have I ever asked you for anything?”
“No, but what you did earlier…” I wave it off.
“That was for you. I’m tired of watching her string you along.”
“She’s none of your business. You’re my employee. I should have never let things go so far in the first place.”
Her lip curls in a sneer, and she tosses a rag she’d been holding onto a nearby cart. I watch as she stomps off. There’s no regret when she leaves. But I have regrets about someone else. I need a drink. After cleaning up and changing into clothes I keep in the back, I find myself walking into town. I plan to drown myself in dark liquor before the night is done. No need to have a car I won’t be able to drive. Plus, I relish the fresh air.
I’m headed to my favorite spot when I see her. Damn, she looks good in a skirt that hugs her hips and a top that barely contains her breasts. But what stirs my gut is her hand in another guy’s while she wears a smile that used to shock life into me. He makes her happy. Although it’s like a knife in my chest, I want her to be happy. Unable to stand it, I duck into the first bar and find a seat.
While ordering a whiskey, I spot a redhead two seats down checking me out. Maybe, I think. When the glass is put in front of me, I down the contents and order another. It doesn’t take the redhead long to make her move. By the time I’ve had three shots, she’s worked her way down to the empty stool next to me.
“You look like a man on a mission,” she says.
“I could say the same about you. Well, except the man part.” I grin. She’s pretty enough, though she’s not my sunshine. To forget what my heart wants maybe I could stand a blazing inferno like the woman’s hair.
“I am. And you look like just the guy to take me to the moon.”
It’s just cheesy enough to make my smile grow larger.
“I should warn you…”
I’m about to finish that statement when, despite the noise of the bar, I notice when the door opens. Glancing up, a set of gray eye
s lock on mine, and anything I’m about to say instantly vanishes, along with thoughts of the redhead who sits next to me.
Three
JENNA
Kenneth and I are headed to dinner when he gets a call from his father, the almighty Senator Balfour. Whenever that happens, he drops everything to scurry to his father’s wishes. But that isn’t the problem. It’s what happens afterward. He wants to immediately drive me home. I’m not in the mood to go home. I want to stay out and go have a drink somewhere. So I tell him.
“You can’t do that.”
“What do you mean? Of course, I can do that. I do it all the time. I’ll catch a ride home with Uber or something. Or maybe I’ll see if Cate wants to meet me. She and Drew are still in town.”
Kenneth’s expression sours, and it begins to piss me off. “Jenna, it simply isn’t proper for you to be seen around town, alone, cavorting in bars, now that we’re engaged to be married.”
I have to scoop my jaw off the sidewalk. “Cavorting in bars, huh?” When was the last time I actually cavorted? I have to think about this. It’s been a long time. Too long, I’m thinking.
“Yes. You have to remember your place as the daughter-in-law of a senator. This is important business, and you have to be taken seriously.”
Nearly tripping on the sidewalk, and not because of the heels I wear, I say, “I do have a brain, Kenneth, and I take it very seriously. I wouldn’t have gotten my current job if I didn’t. But I’m not running around doing anything improper, for goodness sake. All I’m going to do is stay out and have a few drinks. Maybe get my bestie to meet me.”
“I can’t possibly allow it.” And he’s not kidding.
“You’re going to have to rethink your attitude on this, Kenny. Just because we’re engaged doesn’t make you the boss of me, nor does it make you my keeper.”
The annoying loud constant beep of his phone interrupts us again. As he speaks to I presume his father again, I can see how agitated Kenneth is. He’s restless and twitchy as he talks on the phone. We’ve scooted to the edge of the sidewalk to avoid the foot traffic, but a few people eye us as they pass by.
The Cruel and Beautiful Series Boxset Page 85
