Adjusting his tie, Brett shook his head. “All set, thank you. I prefer reality.”
And the truth.
Spencer isn’t in love with Alisha.
What the hell is he doing?
On the way out of the building, Brett took out his phone. Someone had to know if Alisha was okay. Brett told himself it wasn’t his business, but that didn’t stop him from calling Rachelle.
Chapter Five
Although Alisha hadn’t come to a single conclusion about what she wanted to do, she did feel more relaxed. The lake house, or lake shack as she sometimes jokingly referred to it, always had that effect on her. She didn’t have memories of the place. Her mother hadn’t taken her there, perhaps because it had been her sanctuary, too, but her grandmother had said her mother had spent summers there when she was a child. Alisha liked to think that when she visited, she was connecting with a time when her mother had been happy. The sun was beginning to set across the water, and if she wasn’t going to spend the night, Alisha knew she should leave soon, but she was too comfortable to move. Lying in the grass, propped up on her elbows, she had finally silenced the panic within her and was simply letting herself be in the moment.
“I thought you might be here,” a deep male voice said behind her.
What the hell? Alisha screamed and jumped to her feet. What is Brett doing here? “You scared me.”
His eyebrows rose and fell, then one side of his mouth curled in irony. “That wasn’t my intention. Rachelle said you weren’t feeling well, and when you didn’t answer your phone . . .”
Since when do you talk to Rachelle? And why would you be calling me? Alisha swallowed that question and lowered the hand that had naturally risen defensively. “How did you find me? No one knows about this place.” He held her gaze without answering and an idea came to her. “Do you have some kind of creepy file on me?”
The other side of his mouth twitched as if he were fighting a smile. “Creepy, no. Detailed, yes.”
Too much adrenaline was rushing through Alisha for her to appreciate his humor. “That is wrong on so many levels. Did your file say that I come here to be alone?”
“It’s not that detailed.” He looked her over, either not getting her hint for him to leave or dismissing it. “You look like you’re feeling better.”
Alisha’s face warmed as did the rest of her beneath his sustained attention. She clasped her hands in front of her and hoped her response to him wasn’t obvious. “I am. Thank you.” She swallowed hard as he gazed at her, and her heart began to beat fast. This time not from fear. “If you’re here to offer to pay me off again, I’m still not interested.” She watched for a reaction to her words, but his expression betrayed none of his thoughts. “I’m also not sorry about what I said to your grandmother, if you’re expecting an apology.”
“My grandmother needed to hear what you had to say, and I thought you handled her well. She respects you—that’s the first step toward her liking you.”
Alisha looked away, not wanting him to see how confused she was by his praise. “I’ll take your word for that. She didn’t look happy with me on Sunday.”
“No one likes to hear the truth, but it’s better than a lie.”
“I guess,” Alisha said, not sure where the conversation was going but positive it would be better if she ended it rather than found out. “Now that you’ve seen I’m fine, I’m sure you have somewhere you need to be.”
He looked her over again. Although he was a man who played his cards close to his chest, Alisha would have sworn he was genuinely concerned about her. “Rachelle thought you might call in sick to work tomorrow.”
“I’m not sick.”
“She told me you’d already gone to bed for the evening because you weren’t feeling well.”
With a sigh, Alisha ran a hand across her brow. “I lied, okay? I needed a little time alone, and if I tried to tell her that, she would have thought I was upset.”
“Are you?”
Alisha turned away from him and looked out over the water. “What could I have to be upset about? I’m getting married in less than a week.”
He came to stand beside her. Alisha glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. With his jacket pushed back and his hands in his trouser pockets, he looked every bit like the confident, successful man he was. “If you have any doubts, you should postpone it.”
Folding her arms across her chest, Alisha turned her attention back to the peaceful view of the lake. “I really don’t want to discuss this with you.”
“Marriage is—”
“Why are you here? What is it that you want me to say?” Spinning on him, Alisha dropped her hands to her hips.
His intense blue eyes sought and held hers. “The truth.”
Alisha’s chest heaved as she began to feel cornered. “What truth?”
He turned fully toward her. “I don’t believe you’re in love with my brother.”
The peaceful lake setting faded into the background as Alisha’s senses filled with Brett and how he made her feel. I don’t believe you’re in love with my brother. She knew she couldn’t admit to that and should feel horrified that he could see through her so easily. Yet it was his presence she was most affected by, not his closeness to the truth. His nearness sent tingles of unexplainable pleasure through her. It was impossible to look up at his mouth and not wonder how it would feel on hers. Alisha’s lips parted and her breath turned shallow. She couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. Nothing she’d felt for any of the men she’d been with had prepared her for how easily Brett erased her coherent thoughts and replaced them with wicked images.
His mouth hovered above hers, the warmth of his breath teasing her. She felt herself swaying closer to him. “Well?”
I need to push him away, tell him he’s wrong.
God help me, I don’t want to.
“Brett—” She stopped only because she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell him how she felt. She couldn’t lift up on her toes and taste his lips, even if she was shaking from the need to. His eyes burned with a wild hunger. Anything they started wouldn’t end with one kiss.
Sorry, Spencer. I know I promised to marry you to help you, but I accidentally slept with your brother. My bad.
Alisha took a step back, raised a flat hand up between them. “You need to go.”
He held her eyes a moment longer, then nodded. “Are you staying here tonight?”
“No,” Alisha said in a thick voice. “I’m going home.”
“It’s late. I’ll follow you in my car,” he said.
“You don’t have to.” There was an unyielding look in his expression that she recognized. “But you will.”
His sexy lips curled ever so slightly. “Just to your driveway. I’ll sleep better if I know you made it home safely.”
Do you really care about me? Do I want you to? Alisha nodded, then gathered her purse and phone. Sleep? Not going to happen.
I plan to lie awake questioning my moral compass, then indulge in a fantasy or two about us engaging in carnal acts, and finally round off the night by listing all the reasons why giving in to how you make me feel would be the wrong choice.
Wrong for Spencer.
Wrong for my relationship with the people I love like family.
I should have gone with my first reaction and said no to marrying Spencer.
I can’t add another layer to that mistake.
After sliding into her car, Alisha started the engine and watched Brett get into his vehicle. She let herself imagine for a moment what could have been had they met under different circumstances. Would they have come together for one night or become lovers? Could someone like her have ever fit into his life and vice versa? She tried to imagine him chaperoning a field trip and smiled. Tough as he looked on the outside, she had a feeling her students would walk all over him. She sensed a gentleness in him. Strength, but kindness. It was a combination she wished her father had possessed.
Brett pulled f
ar enough back onto the road so that she could pull out in front of him. Alisha did, then drove off, knowing he would follow.
She glanced back often during the drive, and he was there, watching out for her. For as long as Alisha could remember, she’d taken care of others: her mother, her friends—Spencer. She kept her pain hidden even from Rachelle, because her friend had also had her own share. Although Rachelle had been raised by a loving mother and a loving stepfather, she’d known her biological father only through court-ordered visits. As soon as she was of age, Rachelle had stopped seeing her father.
Alisha had never asked her why. Talking about Dereck Westerly would have opened the door to a conversation about her own father, and she’d never told anyone about her father’s rage. She’d been too afraid she would be taken from her mother if anyone found out. She’d needed to stay and keep her mother safe the best she could.
She wasn’t used to anyone watching out for her. Brett had come looking for her because he’d been worried. He was following her home to make sure she was okay. It was old-fashioned and unnecessary.
She didn’t need a protector, not anymore.
And yet, a part of her wanted to call and thank him.
He called me. I have his number now. Shouldn’t I say something?
He made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t realized she craved.
And for that one ride home, she didn’t feel alone.
The best way to reconnect with Spencer is definitely not by spending more time with Alisha. Brett ground his gears as he pulled out of her driveway. He’d followed her home to make sure she got there safely and stayed in his car to make sure he didn’t do something he knew he’d regret—kiss her. Technically, he hadn’t done anything but make sure Alisha was okay.
But it felt wrong.
Brett wasn’t a man who second-guessed himself. He assessed situations and acted on them with swift and unforgiving force. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t known what his next step should be.
No matter how attractive Alisha was, if she was his brother’s fiancée, he wouldn’t normally give her a second look.
But is she?
And should she be?
And why can’t I convince myself it’s none of my business?
Because they aren’t in love. Brett took a corner too tightly, and the wheels of his sports car squealed in protest.
Which has nothing to do with me.
Unless he’s only marrying her to get his inheritance. But I don’t know that for sure.
His hands gripped the steering wheel.
Why can’t he see that he doesn’t need to do this? He could get a loan from me. Or Dad. He has options when it comes to funding his company to the next level.
He’s a man, not a child. If he wants to make a mistake like that, he should be allowed to.
Unless Alisha believes their engagement is real.
I can’t stand back and watch him hurt her.
He growled as he tried to find his footing on the subject. He considered his instincts first-rate when it came to people, but he was at a loss with Alisha.
She says she loves Spencer, but the way she looked at me says otherwise.
Is the whole guardian angel routine an act?
It can’t be. She’s been Rachelle’s friend for too long. Rachelle would see through something like that.
Could she be marrying Spencer simply to help him?
There is no way anyone is that nice.
Brett was under no illusion that he was perfect. Like his father, he’d put more time and value into growing the family business than into his private life. He didn’t have what people would consider real friends. He had associates, connections. Loyalty went hand in hand with proven financial benefits.
He doubted many would describe him as a generous or kind man. He did what needed to be done and didn’t waste time or emotion on how he felt about much.
Except when it came to his family. Nothing had ever come between him and what he considered his duty to them.
Family.
Duty.
For a long time he’d excluded his mother from his definition of family. She had not only cheated; she’d left and started over—without Eric and him. How could my father still love her? There was no denying that he did. It had been in his eyes every time he spoke of her.
Brett thought of his grandfather and how his father seemed to hate him. Did he? Or was anger easier?
He parked his car in the garage beneath his apartment building and sat in the quiet darkness. Love and loss. Anger and isolation. The pattern was woven through three generations of his family now. It had taken the appearance of Alisha to wake Brett up to how he’d unwillingly allowed the pattern to repeat for himself.
Is that why I don’t want to see her hurt?
Gentle, but fierce.
Loyal.
Kind, even when reprimanding someone. She left one with the sense that she knew they could do better.
And we could.
If she was marrying Spencer for a reason other than love, there was one person who would know. He dialed a number he hadn’t in a very long time.
His mother sounded worried when she answered, “Brett?”
“Mother.”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Brett closed his eyes for a moment at how his mother assumed he wouldn’t call her unless something bad had happened. “I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “I arrived at Grandmother’s just as you were leaving on Sunday.”
“I know. I saw your car,” she said, sounding a little sad about it.
“She means well.”
“That’s what I tell myself.”
His mother’s sadness touched him in a way he hadn’t expected it to. I thought I hated her, but maybe I only hated that she left. “How are you?”
“Me?” she answered breathlessly. She seemed surprised to be asked such a simple question, as if she’d waited a long time to be asked. What had Alisha said about her? “Stephanie provided them the confidence to be whoever they wanted to be. They love her. I hope you were kind to her, because if you weren’t, then you may very well lose your family over it.”
When he compared his mother’s personality to his father’s, it was easy to see where the disconnect had happened. The miracle was how they had gotten together in the first place. Is there any of her in me? A shred of her kindness?
“I’m fine. I’ve known your grandmother for a long time. I shouldn’t be surprised by what she says.” Forgiving.
There was a time when Brett would have immediately taken his grandmother’s side, but he was beginning to see that nothing was quite that simple. “We talked about it after you left. Her intentions are good. She really does want to patch things up. It may take her a few tries to figure out how, though.”
His mother sighed. “She thinks I’ve turned her grandchildren against her. I haven’t.”
He might have doubted her in the past, but this time he said, “I know.”
“I’m glad you called. I don’t know if Spencer told you, but he was thrilled that you went to see him. He looks up to you.”
“He hides it well,” Brett volleyed back and then wished he hadn’t. His humor was often lost on his mother.
“Does he?” she answered in a gentle tone. “You played football; he played football. You were at the top of your class; he followed in your footsteps. He’s determined to do as well as you in business. I hope you’re where you want to be, Brett, because being like you is all Spencer seems to care about.”
The elevator opened. It was the top floor in the most elite Back Bay condominium building. A week ago he would have cared that it was the best, but he wanted more for Spencer. How Shakespearean would it be if Spencer made it to the top only to realize that the cost of getting and staying there was painfully steep?
As Brett walked through his full-floor penthouse condo, he felt no attachment. If a larger, better place sprang up across the street, he would move on without lo
oking back. He felt the same about his car and everything else money had bought him.
He wondered if his father felt the same.
Brett sat down heavily on his white leather couch and loosened his tie. “Do you ever regret marrying Dad?”
His mother inhaled audibly. “I regret many things, but never that. Your father and I had some bad years, but we had good ones, too.”
“He still loves you.” Brett didn’t know what he was hoping to hear, but he held his breath as he waited for her reaction.
“I know. That was never the problem,” she said, then sniffed. “Are you sure you’re okay, Brett? You don’t sound like yourself.”
In business, information was power. There were things Brett needed to understand before he could move forward. “Did you love him?”
“How could you ask that? Of course I did. A part of me always will.”
“Yet you cheated on him and ultimately left him for that man. What kind of love is that?” Although his words were harsh, his tone wasn’t.
“Oh, Brett.” His mother was quiet for a moment, but then she said, “I’m not perfect, and marriage is hard. Your father and I started off blissfully, crazy in love. We had two really good years where I used to wonder if anyone had the right to be as happy as we were. Then his father died, and he changed. He pulled away and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t reach him. I don’t know what you’re looking for, Brett, but I’m just a woman who married a man she loved, then felt desperately, utterly alone in her marriage. I should have left him years before I did, but I kept hoping it would get better. In the end, staying made it worse. Your father is a good man, but we couldn’t make each other happy.”
“Do you think Spencer loves Alisha?”
“Oh,” his mother said. “He’s known her for most of his life.”
That’s not what I’m asking. “So, yes?”
She sighed. “You’re worried about him. I’m worried, too. If I tell you something, Brett, you have to promise that it will stay between the two of us.”
I’m not five, but fine. “Okay.”
“I’ve always encouraged all of you to make choices for yourselves, but Spencer needs guidance right now. Please don’t take what I’m about to say to your grandmother.”
In the Heir (Westerly Billionaire Series Book 1) Page 6
