Forbidden Desires

by Jenna Hartley

  Please, may there be no bathing suits in this pile. I will not cope with that.

  Chapter 7

  Julia

  I’m not sure why anyone would call this tight space an airplane seat. I call BS, because my butt barely fits, and it’s not that big. It also reminds me of why I haven’t been to Las Vegas yet, or any other place you usually travel to via airplane.

  “You hanging in there, Jules? We should have talked about this before. Damn it.” Carter’s voice is low, maybe even a little frantic, and he looks at me like I’m a puppy that just got stepped on, his brows raised high.

  “I’m fine.” I’m not sure I say it for his benefit or mine, but I repeat it several more times in my head like it’s a mantra. It can’t hurt, and maybe I'll actually start to believe it.

  “You’re as white as a ghost, and I’m afraid you might rip the armrests off any second now, or at least leave some claw marks.” He leans closer, his breath tickling my face. “Not my definition of fine.”

  He’s right. Shoot.

  I slowly pry my fingers off the armrest and clench my fists tightly on my lap instead. “I knew I should have taken a parachute with me.”

  He chuckles beside me, and I glare at him.

  His hands immediately go up in surrender, and he stops laughing. “Sorry, I thought you were joking.”

  “Do I look like I’m joking about anything right now?” Leaning my head on the headrest, I close my eyes and take a deep breath in through my nose and out of my mouth.

  In and out.

  In and out.

  The total chaos that’s trying to take over my body slows down a little, my breathing still too quick and shallow, my skin still sweaty and flushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing you need to apologize for. It’s my fault. I didn’t realize it’s still this bad. Somehow, I just assumed you’ve gotten over your fear of flying over the years.” Carter’s arm nudges my shoulder and slowly moves around my back for a side hug. He pulls me as close to him as possible in this tight space with our seat belts buckled.

  I lean into him, his soothing voice and the comfort of his closeness making this already more bearable. “To be honest, that’s kind of what I was hoping for too. I was totally fine until we sat down. Ugh, I hate feeling like this. It’s so stupid, but I just can’t control it.”

  “Stop worrying about it, please. We’re totally safe, I promise, and the statistics are definitely in our favor.” The tone in his voice has changed; it’s stronger now, more matter-of-fact. I’m not sure it helps, but it does make me feel marginally better.

  Leaning closer, I get a good sniff of his cologne. It’s a mix of citrus and musk, something he’s used for years, a scent I associate with him. “I’m not sure if numbers will make me feel any better right now. They also wouldn’t change the fact that we’re sitting in a small metal tube that’s loaded with flammable liquid. And don’t quote me on this, but if the media is anything to go by, the person I’m supposed to trust the most on this airplane might as well have an alcohol problem.”

  An involuntary shudder runs through me at the thought alone, and Carter squeezes my shoulder.

  The low rumble and quivers of his laughter shake his body, and therefore, mine too, and I can’t help but grin a little as well. “Okay. That might have been a little dramatic.”

  The look he gives me is filled with amusement. The laugh lines at the corners of his eyes oddly fascinating. “Definitely entertaining though.”

  His hand tightens on my arm and he squeezes my whole frame into his side once more.

  When the flight attendant walks around to check the seat belts, he pulls back his arm but stays close with his face. “Just take a few deep breaths. I’m right here to help you however I can. If you want to, we can play games to distract you.”

  “Thank you.” The words barely slip out of my mouth as I focus on my breathing.

  “Anytime.”

  I’m not sure if the deep breathing helps with my anxiety, but at least his cologne distracts me every time I inhale. It keeps my mind occupied for the time being, and I’m grateful for it as the crew gets ready for takeoff, checking the overhead bins before getting settled in their own seats.

  When the plane starts moving, I desperately try to find something to hold on to that’s sturdy enough when Carter offers his hand.

  “Just don’t break it, please.” He flexes his fingers as if he’s getting ready to battle.

  “I promise.” Not even wasting a thought on the scenario, I grasp his hand tightly in mine.

  He immediately interlaces our fingers and rubs his thumb over the back of my hand in soothing circles.

  Feeling the sensation combined with watching the movement, finally quiets my mind, at least momentarily. It’s almost hypnotic and makes my skin buzz in a weird way, like it’s hypersensitive and doesn’t know what to do with this new sensation.

  Before I can ponder on it any more, we speed down the runway, my eyes wide as the tremors of the airplane jolt through me, my stomach getting that weird drop feeling I hate so much. The same one I get on roller-coaster rides. Not only does my heartbeat increase from it but my breathing as well, making me slightly dizzy.

  Carter squeezes my hand repeatedly before bending forward to retrieve something from his backpack. A moment later, he offers me a small bottle of orange juice. Since I don’t want to let go of his hand under any circumstances, I open it while he holds it. The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement when I take it, gulping down the sugary sweetness as fast as I can.

  “Thank you.” I give him a small smile, trying to focus on his face instead of the fact that we’re quickly gaining height, already several thousand feet in the air.

  “Of course. Just look at me, and we’ll get through this together.”

  I nod, thankful he’s so sweet and helpful. Other people would probably be annoyed with me.

  “Eyes on me, Jules.” He reminds me once more as my gaze sways to the side. “All right, time for a game. If you could see the future, what would it be like in five years?”

  “Huh?” I feel like I missed something.

  “We’re going to ask each other questions.”

  “Just anything?”

  He grins. “Yup.”

  I swallow loudly, realizing how quickly this could take an embarrassing turn if he decides to ask the wrong or rather right questions.

  “Okay, let’s see.” I take a moment to actually think, knowing he’s chosen a good question for me. “It’s nothing exciting really. I’d love to expand my business over the next few years, maybe hire a person or two to help. That sort of thing.”

  “That’s a great goal, and very reasonable too.” He studies me intently, his voice lower than before. “How about your private life?”

  For some reason, my gaze flicks to our still intertwined hands before answering him. “Well, I guess you kind of know the answer to that already. I’d like to be married and if possible, have a baby at that point.”

  He grimaces, and I laugh. “You really want to be a mom that young?”

  “Carter, I’m twenty-three. You can hardly call becoming a mom in your late twenties young.”

  He tilts his head to the left, his eyebrows drawn together. “I thought it was the new thing to wait until you’re in your thirties.”

  I shrug. “For some probably, others are perfectly happy to get married at eighteen and get started with a family right away. I don’t think the age matters as much as finding the right partner and being ready for it.”

  He thinks about that for a moment. “I guess.”

  My body freezes momentarily at his response before something dawns on me. “You don’t want to have kids, do you?”

  I still feel like someone pulled the rug out from under my feet when he shakes his head.

  “You know how I feel about marriage, and children kind of belong in the same category for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against children, I actually like th
em. But what’s the point of having a child with someone when you know you won’t stay together? And to have a child just for the sake of having one so you can pass it around for the rest of their life seems selfish and wrong in my eyes.”

  The slightly harsh tone of his voice and the hard, distinctive line of his jaw throws me for a moment, so contrary to the fun and carefree version of Carter from mere minutes ago.

  If I’m honest, it’s hard for me to wrap my head around this. On one side, I see where he’s coming from, but on the other side, I’m sad to hear him say something like that, especially since it means so much to me. Also, the possibility of his parents screwing him up majorly in that aspect, not to mention irreversibly, makes me incredibly mad.

  He touches my nose with his finger, the negative emotion wiped off his face. “Stop worrying about it. This wasn’t supposed to get you all depressed. I’m fine, I promise. Besides, just think how lucky your kids will be to have me as their uncle. It’s your turn to ask a question.” He pauses for a moment before the corners of his mouth turn upward. “And make it interesting.”

  I’ll probably ponder over the fact that he doesn’t want to be a dad some more later on. But for now, I’m distracted enough to think of what embarrassing thing I could ask him.

  “Oh,” I finally exclaim, smiling broadly. “What’s the worst thing anyone’s walked in on you doing?”

  Carter throws his head back and laughs. I not only feel but also see several eyes from other passengers snap our way, quite a few appreciative gazes among them when they see who the noisemaker is.

  He wiggles his eyebrows, the humor still dancing in his eyes. “Easy answer. Stacy.”

  “Stacy?” I cock my head to the side, curious to hear more.

  “Yeah. Do you remember her from high school? We were kind of dating for a while, if you can call it that.”

  I groan in response, having a good idea where this might be going, or at least what’s going to be involved. “Well, spill it already.”

  He rubs his free hand on his thigh, chuckling to himself. “All right. So, we finally started to have sex after seeing each other for a while, and you can imagine how stoked my high school self was. One day, I took her back to my place and we were in the middle of doing . . . you know . . . when the door burst open and my mom waltzed in. She shielded her eyes with her hand, saying she just needs to get the laundry quickly, or it would be too late to start it. Then she added that she hoped I was smarter than my dad and was using protection. She gathered what she needed and left again. Needless to say, the moment was ruined, and Stacy wasn’t so forthcoming with her affection afterward.”

  “No way.” I stare at him for several seconds before I burst into laughter. “Oh my gosh, that totally sounds like your mom. No wonder Stacy was acting so weird all of a sudden whenever you were around.”

  We laugh together for several minutes, before I get a tissue to wipe at the corners of my eyes.

  “Yup. I never brought another girl home after that. Who knows what else my mom would have come up with.”

  I snort, still shaking my head at the absurdity of his story. “I don’t blame you. Your mom has always had her own way of doing things.”

  “She really has.” The smile lingers on his face. “Your turn. Worst pickup line you’ve ever heard.”

  I roll my eyes at him, not even having to think about that one. “Easy. No wonder the sky is gray today, as all the blue is in your eyes.” I look up at him and flutter my eyelids dramatically until we both clutch our stomachs.

  “That’s the stupidest thing ever.” Carter’s gasping for air while I wipe away more tears.

  I nod. “I know.”

  I can’t even remember the last time I laughed this hard.

  “I mean, not only is it completely unoriginal, but your eyes are pretty obviously brown.” He squeezes my hand as more laughter rolls through him.

  The movement makes me stop in my tracks, my laughter quickly turning into quiet chuckles. In the midst of this fun, I forgot our hands were still connected, the contact suddenly feeling more intimate.

  Awareness spreads through me. We’re obviously comfortable together, holding hands and sitting closely, but how does this look to the people around us?

  “No one can be that blind or unoriginal.” He shakes his head, his gaze momentarily focused on our hands before he lifts it up to mine.

  I have to stop my mind from putting its own spin on things, wondering about things that aren’t there. We might look like a couple to those around us, but I have to keep focused on the truth. I promised myself years ago to never cross the line and want more from Carter again. We’re friends, and I know he’ll never see me any differently. I just have to ignore the sting that causes too.

  Chapter 8

  Carter

  The lobby of the Bellagio Hotel buzzes with noise. There are people everywhere—families, business people, couples decked out to the nines, college kids, groups of friends, seniors—most of them poised to take pictures with their cameras or phones. Above all, they’re directed at the opulent ceiling. The wonder about the colorful ceiling sculpture made of glass-blown flowers is audible all around me.

  Only in Vegas can hotel-hopping be popular. But, most of the hotels are either plain stunning or so ridiculous they’re cool again.

  A quick glance at the clock confirms that Julia should be here any minute. Thankfully, she did okay for the rest of the flight, besides the landing, where she shrieked and nearly broke my hand. After getting situated at the hotel, we agreed to go for an early dinner before I meet up with my client for drinks.

  My gaze sweeps over the bank of elevators, just as she steps out of one.

  Oh for fuck’s sake. Not that dress.

  How on earth am I supposed to survive this evening when she’s wearing the red number that clings to all her curves like it was handmade for her? She’s so fucking beautiful. It ends an inch above her knees, with the barest hint of cleavage visible when I stand above her. Her black heels are shiny and click rhythmically on the marble floor, giving her an even more impressive entrance.

  She stops right in front of me, her hands brushing over the smooth fabric on her thighs. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

  Getting up from the bench, I let my eyes slowly wander up her body until I finally get to her face. She went above and beyond to get ready. Her makeup is bolder than usual but without being too much, her hair in soft curls around her face. I prefer the natural look on her, but she’s breathtaking like this.

  “Jules, you’re beautiful.”

  Her cheeks turn pink, and I briefly wonder if Nate ever complimented her. Since that douchebag is the last person I want to think about though, I push all thoughts of him aside, not wanting anything or anyone to ruin my time with her.

  “Thank you.” She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, meeting my gaze for only a moment. “Now, let’s go. I’m starving.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  The second the words are out, I regret them. So much.

  We shouldn’t cross that line of our friendship or all hell will break loose, not just with Julia but also with Ollie. And those two have always been my second family, and I wouldn’t want anything to get in the middle of that.

  She looks up at me expectantly. “So, where are we going?”

  Either she didn’t hear what I said, or she chooses to disregard it, so I do the same, holding out my arm for her. She wraps her hand around my bicep, and I try to ignore how right she feels on my arm, like she belongs there.

  We walk deeper into the hotel, the crowds thinning out marginally. “They have an Italian restaurant here that’s to die for. Quite possibly the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

  Her fingers tighten around my arm, her mouth morphing into a wide grin. From the looks of it, she’s about a minute away from bouncing in place. “You know Italian is my favorite, so please lead the way.”

  I chuckle at her excitement. She’s too cute for her own good. And of c
ourse, I know Italian is her favorite. It’s impossible to forget all the nights I spent at the Bradford house eating mountains of it, and the reason I made some last-minute phone calls to secure us a reservation.

  Since I’ve been here several times before, I have no trouble maneuvering us through the crowd to the restaurant where we get seated immediately.

  Once our waiter has taken our order and leaves us with the drinks the hostess ordered for us, I look at Julia across the small table that’s nestled into the corner of the restaurant.

  It’s a little secluded, almost intimate, and I immediately wonder if this was a mistake. The last thing I want to do is give her the wrong impression, or worse, make her uncomfortable.

  “I hope this table is okay.”

  She gazes at me over the floral centerpiece. “Of course. It’s perfect.”

  Tension I was unaware of releases in my body, and I tell myself to get it together. This busyness of work, especially with this last-minute trip, and balancing time with Julia in her quest has thrown me off more than I thought this week.

  I nod. “I’m sorry I have to leave right after dinner. Our client is very social, so whenever we have a business meeting with him, we usually get together for drinks the night before. He’s very peculiar about that.”

  She brushes her hand over the tablecloth in front of her, absentmindedly repeating the motion. “Don’t be silly. I tagged along on this trip last minute. You’re here for work, not to babysit me, so there’s really no need to worry. I’ll go watch the show you got me a ticket for, and then tomorrow I’ll explore the city during the day. That’s probably a lot safer, not to mention less crowded.”

  Since she doesn’t look upset, I nod.

  Not everyone understands when the business calls for weird hours, but this is Julia we’re talking about. She grew up with her dad and uncle building their insurance business from scratch. Their uncle took over the business since Ollie wasn’t interested in the insurance market. Instead, he teamed up with me to build our investment company. Oftentimes, that requires us to put in long hours, especially during the first few years when most of the foundation is constructed and giving it your all is most crucial.