“Hey, Beck. It’s been awhile. How’ve you been?” Jason asked, walking up to him.
“Busy as usual. You?”
Jason shrugged. “The same. Except…” He paused, a grin on his face, making Beck curious.
“Except what?”
“My wife is pregnant,” Jason said, obviously just waiting for the opening to share the news.
Beck rose from his seat and slapped the other man on the back. “That’s great! Congratulations!”
Jason nodded. “So can I buy you”—he glanced over Beck’s shoulder—“and your brothers a drink to celebrate? I’m feeling generous these days.”
Beck chuckled because he and the guys always argued over Beck’s need to pay, which was ridiculous. He was their landlord and friend, but he ought to pay as much as anyone else who frequented the bar.
Tripp and Drew had joined them at the tail end of the conversation.
“His wife is pregnant,” Beck explained to his siblings.
“Congratulations,” Tripp and Drew said at the same time.
“Thank you. Now, what can I get for you? Your usual Macallan?” Jason asked.
“That’d be great. And give that beautiful wife of yours my best,” Beck said.
“Same from us.” Tripp spoke for himself and Drew.
The guys settled into chairs and Beck sat back down. He and his brothers played catch-up about each other’s work for a few minutes, until a cocktail waitress brought over a bottle of scotch and glasses.
“Mr. Dare said to enjoy. He had to handle something but said he’ll see you later.” She served them and walked away, leaving them alone again.
“Now that we have fortification…” Tripp said, “what’s going on? I’m guessing this impromptu meet has something to do with your houseguest?” He lifted his glass. “To Dad’s health.”
“Amen,” Beck said, touching his glass to theirs while they did the same.
Beck took a long drink as he considered how to reply.
“I bet Chloe’s rocked his world, and he doesn’t know what to do with her. Is that it?” Drew asked, meeting Beck’s gaze.
And Beck already regretted calling these two to talk. It wasn’t like either sibling was currently in a relationship or anything. He should have just figured out his problem by himself.
“Okay, sorry, man. You obviously have something on your mind.” Drew folded his arms and leaned on the table. “Talk.”
Beck frowned but his options were limited. His brothers were all he had. “Fine. Yeah, I slept with her, and now I feel like I’m playing that push-pull game. Which I don’t mean to do. It’s not fair to her. It’s just that she’s different than anyone I’ve been with before.” Needing a drink, he took another sip, savoring the burn as it went down.
“Is she pushing you for more than you’re willing to give?” Tripp, who was just coming off of a breakup, asked.
Beck shook his head. “Not at all. I told her from the start I don’t do relationships, and she said she wasn’t looking to jump into another one.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Drew asked. “Sounds to me like you’re the one making things more complicated than they need to be.”
And wasn’t that a kick in the ass? Beck downed a larger sip of his drink.
“What’s going on?” Tripp pushed.
“She makes me feel things,” he muttered, not in the least bit happy with himself.
A smirk edged Tripp’s mouth. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Drew asked.
Beck rolled his head to ease the tension in his shoulders. “Look, nothing’s changed. I don’t want to get seriously involved with anyone. You both know why and I’m not getting into it again now. But the fact that Dad’s sick? Just reinforces how right I am in my thinking.” He downed the last of his drink.
Drew lifted the bottle and poured him another glass.
Beck shook his head. “I don’t need another. I have dinner plans.” With Chloe.”
“Listen.” Tripp leaned forward and spoke in that calming doctor voice that could get annoying. “Chloe’s not staying with you forever, so just have fun while she’s there. Spell out those terms so she understands. That’ll avoid you overthinking, not to mention the hot-cold thing you don’t want to keep doing.” He shrugged. “Simple.”
More than Tripp knew, since Chloe already planned on moving out.
“The man’s got a point.” Drew placed his glass down on the table. “Not that I necessarily agree with your thinking about forever. Look at Mom and Dad, the things they’ve survived together. Makes me think someone for the long haul might not be so bad.”
Beck’s muscles stiffened at the notion. “I don’t agree with you. It’s just one more person to love … and possibly lose.” He cleared his throat. “But Tripp’s idea makes sense.” And it helped ease the knot building in his chest.
Changing his mind, he picked up his glass and took a final sip, still weighing his options, ultimately deciding Tripp was right. If he put a limit on this thing with Chloe, he could handle it without hurting either one of them. And that’s what he’d keep telling himself until he believed it.
Chapter Seven
Beck planned to take Chloe to the exclusive club he belonged to in the heart of the Hudson Yards. Only the elite could be members, and Beck didn’t say that lightly. It was the crown jewel of private social clubs. Booking a private room here, where no one else would see them or have access, was something he’d never considered before and probably never would again. Michelin star chefs and staff that were vetted and arguably the best in the world were at his disposal.
He’d made the decision before Tripp had imparted his wise words about how to handle things with Chloe because Beck wanted to treat her to the best. Yes, her family could afford access, and for all he knew, Linc was a member. Beck didn’t keep track of the who’s who on the roster. But his gut told him nobody had treated Chloe like the princess she’d dressed as the night of her aborted wedding. He intended to do just that and refused to question why.
Before heading to meet with his brothers, he’d texted her and told her to wear the nicest dress she had in the closet. He’d followed it up with, if she didn’t have a fancy dress at his place, have one sent over. She was going to need it, and he knew Chloe had the connections to be ready when he returned.
By the time he walked into his loft, it was close to seven thirty, and he still wanted to take a shower and change. Today had felt much longer than planned.
He was tired, almost wishing he had no plans for the night. Until he saw Chloe. She stepped from the hall into the entryway, and one look blew him away. She wore a white, sleeveless, fitted dress that ended above the knee, hugging her slim waist and fuller hips. But it was the black leather straps that caught his attention. Leather ran around both the neckline and her shoulders, crisscrossing at the waist and stretching beneath her breasts. Breasts he’d held in his hands and tasted with his mouth.
His cock, already hard from looking at her, now stood at attention at the memory. He forced his gaze upward to her amused face, which was gorgeous. Her makeup accentuated her blue eyes, and her plush lips were a gorgeous pink. He slipped a hand into his front pocket and not so subtly adjusted himself.
She graced him with a knowing smile. “Are you going to say something or just stare at me all night? Because really, either way works for me.”
He grinned, stepping forward and taking her hand. “You look gorgeous, Chloe. Take-my-breath-away gorgeous.”
Those lips lifted in a pleased smile. “Glad you like.”
He so fucking did. “I need to take a quick shower and I’ll be ready to go.”
She nodded. “Hurry up. I’m hungry.”
Another thing he liked about Chloe Kingston. She didn’t hide the fact that she appreciated food. “Don’t worry. I have a special night planned that will satisfy all your desires.” With a wink, he headed off to shower. And probably to take the edge off before
he sat through a long dinner before they got to dessert.
* * *
Chloe glanced at the man she had no business ogling no matter how hot he looked in his black slacks, matching jacket, and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. Freshly showered, he smelled delicious, with a hint of his musky after shave surrounding her in the Rolls Royce Phantom Limousine on the way to dinner.
Not just a limousine but an icon her brothers used. Of course, Dash, the rock star, would want to make an entrance, and Xander, the thriller writer, desired space and privacy. Linc just enjoyed the good things. Beck had splurged, and knowing how much he liked to use a ride share and not act like the rich man he was, she more than appreciated the gesture.
The venue? A club her father and her brother also belonged to, but she’d never been here. Linc wasn’t much of a socializer, but he had the membership for wining and dining clients. All Chloe knew was that this was the most exclusive place in the city, and Beck had secured a private dining room just for them.
Which told her he was back to sending mixed signals.
“Beck,” she said, picking up her champagne flute and taking a sip of the bubbly liquid. “I realize we don’t know each other well, but there is something you should know about me.”
“And what is that?” he asked, studying her. In fact, he could barely take his gaze off her, which meant her dress had accomplished its goal.
She’d wanted him to take notice. Needed him to understand she wasn’t the crying woman he’d rescued or the needy female who’d hidden out in his loft for a week. She was not only finding herself but standing up for what she wanted as well.
“I don’t play games and I’m hoping you don’t either.”
“Looks like you’re going to beat me to this conversation.” Although he’d taken a sip of champagne after toasting to her bravery and hopeful success, he’d also ordered Macallan on the rocks and took a drink of that now.
Not willing to make whatever he wanted to discuss too easy on him, she waited in silence. After all, he’d been the one to turn to ice last night only to be totally different again this morning. If he’d given it thought, she wanted to hear what he had to say.
He leaned back in his seat, holding his drink. “I told you about my sister.”
She nodded, the urge to take his hand and comfort him strong, but she waited.
“Whitney had this … let’s call it a bucket list of things she wanted to do when she recovered … and turned eighteen, because let’s face it. For ideas like sky jumping, hot air ballooning, and seeing the northern lights, she needed my parents’ permission. Or to be an adult.” A muscle ticked in his jaw but he continued. “When it became obvious she wasn’t going to get better, she made me promise I’d do all the things on her list.”
He placed his glass on the table, and unable to help herself, she reached over and put her hand over his. He shot her a grateful look.
She couldn’t believe how insightful his sister had been, so young. But then looking at a potentially terminal illness would make anyone grow up fast. Chloe was so sad, both for the girl who’d never had the chance to live out her dreams and for Beck, who was obviously so destroyed by losing her.
“Anyway,” he said, picking up the thread of conversation. “I promised I’d do all those things myself if we couldn’t do them together, and I did. Mostly. Except for the northern lights and the last thing on her list.”
“Which is?” Chloe asked, curious and with a lump in her throat thanks to his story.
He met her gaze. “Fall in love and get married.” He slid his hand from beneath hers.
She opened and closed her mouth again but had no idea what to say.
“Thing is, I’d already promised myself I wouldn’t add anyone to the list of people I care about so deeply that losing them would break me.” His entire body looked taut, his muscles tense, and he appeared suddenly ready to bolt.
But she’d gotten the message and both understood and accepted the reason behind it. “So no relationships,” she said. “And no messy falling in love or getting married.” Why did her stomach hurt with those words?
He inclined his head. “Last night was … intense and I had a freak-out moment. But I’ve given it a lot of thought and it’s all on me. You said you weren’t looking for anything serious, either, so I had no reason to go cold on you.”
She took a longer sip of champagne, considering her options, gathering her thoughts. “I meant it. I’m not interested in a relationship either.” And she really shouldn’t be given she was just getting back on her feet.
He studied her face, as if assessing whether or not she was telling him the truth. Obviously he believed her because he visibly relaxed.
“Which means there’s no reason we can’t continue to have fun while you’re staying with me. If that’s what you want.” He lifted one eyebrow and waited, his words hanging between them.
By suggesting they continue to sleep together and by putting a time limit on things, he’d taken her off guard. Again.
Did she want to hook up with Beck until she moved out? Yes, she did. Even if she had to be very careful with her emotions because she already felt something for this man who’d obviously lost a piece of himself when his sister died and was too afraid to rebuild by letting other people in.
“Is that what this is all about?” She waved a hand around the room. “The exclusive club, the private room, piped-in music, fancy clothes … are you wining and dining me in the hopes of convincing me to sleep with you again, Mr. Daniels?” Because she had to admit, if so, he was trying pretty hard.
A sexy grin lifted his lips. “Actually, no. I’m doing this because you deserve it. You took a big step, and you ought to have it acknowledged and celebrated.” He slid his fingers through hers and kissed the back of her hand. “And no matter what you decide about us, we are going to do just that.”
She blinked. He continually managed to surprise her and she sighed. How was she supposed to keep her feelings casual when he did sweet things, like caring about what she needed and believed she deserved?
There was no way she could turn down his suggestion. She’d take whatever time she could have with him and enjoy it while she could. “You have yourself a deal,” she murmured. “Until I move out.”
His gorgeous green eyes stared into hers. “Which you plan to do soon? Because you left a list of rental units in the conference room, and I want you to know there’s no rush to leave.”
She couldn’t help but smile even as she shook her head. There were those mixed signals again. “I think it’s best if I start looking. It’s time I stand on my own two feet.” She paused. “But in the meantime, I think we should make the most of the time we have left.”
“And I agree.” He touched his glass to hers then pushed his chair back and stood. “What are you doing?”
“Getting comfortable.” He walked over to the booth where she sat across from him and slid in beside her. He extended his arm behind her, and his roughened fingers grazed her bare shoulder.
Her entire body flooded with heat, and arousal spiked inside her. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but with the heavy discussion out of the way, she was able to relax and enjoy. Even with him sitting close and her being so physically aware of him, their back-and-forth banter was easy and light.
She and Beck had shared time together since she’d moved in, and she’d learned a lot about him. He preferred suspense thrillers to comedies in both movies and books, holding a print copy in his hand over an e-reader, would pick reading over TV, and had no patience for binge watching. She, on the other hand, would choose a romantic comedy any time, liked to read romance on a tablet or her phone, and she also didn’t enjoy bingeing television shows and losing hours at a time.
But tonight wasn’t about the mundane. Tonight was the first night they were exclusively focused on each other in a way that allowed the sexual tension to be present and bubble over. And despite their friendship, which she knew was real, she heard
innuendo in everything they said or did, from the moment he’d pushed back his chair and slid into her curved booth. Including the fact that oysters were the first course.
He held one out for her to suck from the shell, and she did, her gaze never leaving his heavy-lidded one as she chewed and swallowed. She was then forced to watch his throat move as he did the same, and a yearning hit her hard, her panties growing damp just watching him.
Unfortunately she had three more courses to go, but she enjoyed every one. A salad consisting of arugula with pears and prosciutto, duck breast with sweet cherry sauce for the main course, and the most decadent chocolate souffle with vanilla bean ice cream. All accompanied by Bling H2O, poured from a limited-edition frosted-glass bottle, covered with hand-applied Swarovski crystals.
As privileged as her life had been, a fifty-dollar bottle of water was over-the-top, even for her. But she appreciated the sentiment of this meal and would never forget that he’d done this to make her feel special.
Their conversation drifted from how his parents were handling his father’s diagnosis – Beck wouldn’t know for sure until he went there for dinner tomorrow night – to whether she had business ideas in mind in case she didn’t win the competition. She found herself telling him about wanting to open a design shop where she could choose her own clients who had visions similar to those Chloe enjoyed creating. Once again he supported her and offered any help she needed. No questions asked.
At which point she was relaxed and comfortable enough that the words just came out of her mouth. “So what happened between you and Linc? One time I visited and you two were living together and best friends, then I heard you moved out and he never mentioned it again. Until you both ended up as real estate competitors.”
Beck froze, obviously shocked by the question. “We had a falling-out,” he finally said.
Well, if that wasn’t vague, she thought with frustration. “I assumed you had. I take it you won’t tell me over what?” She’d been taking tiny bites of her souffle and put the fork down, deciding she couldn’t eat another morsel.
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