Andrew’s soft voice floated out from right behind her. “Your brother left him with me.”
Bracing herself, she turned to face him.
A depth of emotion swam in the swirly depths of his beautiful eyes, threatening to draw her in. Funny how eyes that could so often be cold and distant could also be full of expression. The man was an enigma, one she was starting to think she’d never figure out.
“You saw my brother?”
He nodded, and a rueful grin took over his face. He held a hand up to his jaw and rubbed it. “I also got reacquainted with his fist.”
She blinked at him. “Evan punched you?”
“Yes.” His gaze drank her in, reading the various emotions on her face. “It’s okay, I know I deserved it.”
While she couldn’t disagree, she also hated the thought Andrew might be in pain. Damn, she’d always been such a softie.
“What are you doing here, Andrew? Why do you have Loki?”
His throat worked, and he momentarily shut his eyes. “I wanted to—”
“Say you’re sorry, I know. You did that already.”
“No.” He swallowed again. “More than that. I…hell.”
He strode forward and closed the distance between them, sliding his hands on her arms. “I was wrong, Hailey. I never should have left you. You…you were the best damn thing in my life.”
Hailey swallowed a gasp. Her heart thumped against her ribcage, tripling its speed. For one brief moment, she was filled with joy. But then reality struck.
She forced that stupid little ribbon of hope curling in her chest to quiet down. Just because he was having second thoughts didn’t change what had happened. What she wouldn’t have given to hear these words from Andrew once. But now, after these long, hard weeks of sorrow, they seemed so empty.
“Why did you break up with me like that?”
“I…” His chest rose and fell with his heavy breath. “I could give you all sorts of reasons, all of which seemed like good ones at the time, but the plain fact is that I was scared, Hailey.”
His words rang of sincerity. They also wrenched her heart. Because if he was scared once, he would be again. He would do this to her again.
Loki barked once, as if backing Andrew up. Begging her to give him a second chance.
Traitor.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Andrew, but—”
“Hailey,” he interrupted, his eyes pleading. “I didn’t exactly grow up with the best example of relationships. My parents divorced when I was young.”
“I know.” Her hand reached up of its own accord, cupped his cheek. The warmth of his flesh seeped in through her palm, twisting her insides. Making her wish things were different. “I know.”
“And my mom. She was a mess.” His throat worked convulsively. “I loved her so much, but it wasn’t good enough. God, that fucked me up. You have no idea.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” she murmured. “It was hers. She was sick. It had nothing to do with you.”
“I know.” He took a breath. “I know. But it did affect me. I allowed the way my father dealt with her death to color my perceptions, and that was wrong of me.”
The fact that he’d even admitted that to himself rocked her to her core.
Lord, how she wished it was enough.
“Nobody’s perfect,” she said. “Believe me. I’ve spent my whole life trying to outrun my father’s legacy. Doing everything I could to prove to myself that I would do the one thing he was always too busy to. Live.”
“Then you understand.”
“I do.” And she really did. “But see, there’s a big difference between the two of us. I was always willing to put myself out there. To love. To let it make a fool out of me, if that’s what happened. And I realize now, I can never accept anything less from the man I choose to be with.”
Even if I really, really wish it were you.
Andrew’s gaze grew shiny and he blinked hard. That, more than anything, tore her in two. She wanted to forgive him, but she couldn’t sit back and allow herself to become a victim, patiently waiting for him to give her whatever little scrap of himself he could.
“We’re too different,” she whispered, willing him to understand. “Our worlds are so far apart. And let’s face it, sooner or later, I would embarrass you. I wouldn’t be able to help it. You would expect it, probably live in dread of it, and I could never live knowing that would be the case.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Don’t bother trying to deny it.” What was the point?
Hailey forced her gaze to remain on Andrew, when she wanted nothing more than to run and hide. Cry her agony away.
She’d just begun to harden herself against him, to heal. The bottom line was, she simply couldn’t afford to let him in again.
“I’m sorry Andrew, but it’s too late.”
“Hailey, no.”
As if echoing Andrew’s plea, Loki gave a soft, plaintive bark.
Shut up, Loki.
This was for the best.
Blinking past the haze of tears in her eyes, she turned and slipped back through the door. Then she headed back to the counter, studiously ignoring the flowers Andrew had left.
Larry was in a tizzy, which was no surprise.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed as she slipped her apron back on. “You can’t just take a break without asking.”
“So fire me.”
He drew back, his mouth dropping open.
She pegged it at a fifty-fifty chance he’d do just that, but in the end he simply muttered, “Get back to work,” and turned to take the next order.
Forcing her gaze strictly away from the door, she busied herself with filling the order Larry called out. But Andrew’s words insisted on playing over and over in her head.
You were the best damn thing in my life.
Jesus, he’d said that about her. Her hands shook, coffee splashing over the rim of the cup in her hand. If only she could be reasonably sure he meant it. That he wouldn’t freak out and break her heart again.
Who was she kidding?
Their relationship was doomed from the start. He would always be a rigid, play-by-the-rules type of man, and she would always be a carefree, break-the-rules kind of girl.
Over at the mic, a tall, starving artist type cleared his throat and held up a notebook. “I’m going to recite a poem I wrote for my first love. I call it Ode to Bethenny. Ahem…your eyes are like stars, lighting up my dreams…”
She barely paid any attention to the man’s drivel. His voice droned on and on in the background. He went on for several minutes before abruptly pausing.
The soft, unintelligible murmur of voices filtered in through the microphone. She didn’t pay that any heed either, not until Andrew’s voice started speaking.
“I’m sorry for the interruption.” His voice cracked, as if he were nervous.
Her head jerked up, her eyes landing on Andrew where he stood in front of the mic.
“I-I have a confession to make.” His gaze momentarily locked on hers. “I’ve always sort of had a fear of speaking in front of a crowd.”
Hailey slowly lowered the cup in her hand, mesmerized by the sight of him. Somehow it was hard to think of him being afraid of anything.
“But if there’s one thing that scares me more,” he continued, “it’s singing and dancing in front of a crowd…um, so…”
He cleared his throat, and launched into an a cappella version of the Boys II Men song they’d heard back at the park all those weeks ago.
Her mouth dropped open, and the cup slipped from her hand.
“Hailey, you spilled that drink,” Larry barked at her.
Ignoring him, she stepped toward Andrew, resting her hands on the countertop. His voice cracked and his skin flushed, but he raised his hands in the air and shook them jazz-style while continuing to sing.
A born singer, he was not. He was unsure, off key, and slightly off beat…and it was the most beautiful thing
she’d ever heard.
She gave a delighted laugh and slipped past the swinging doors.
“Hailey,” Larry hissed. “Come back here right now or you’re fired.”
“I quit!” Throwing off her apron, she began to whirl around the tables in time to Andrew’s singing, uncaring of the crazy looks the patrons gave her.
Andrew’s voice rattled with suppressed laughter and his singing grew stronger, much more confident. He started shuffling from side to side in an awkward rhythm.
When an elderly man who sat drinking coffee with his wife stood up and began to clap for Hailey, she swung him into a clumsy dance that had him puffing for breath and his wife cackling with laughter. Finally, far too quickly for Hailey’s liking, the song was over.
After kissing the old man on the cheek, she turned to face Andrew.
“Hailey,” he said into the mic, his gaze washing over her. “I know I’m not very adventurous. I work too much. Don’t play enough. I’m probably not very worthy of you.”
Hailey shook her head, raising her hands to her mouth. She didn’t feel that way, not at all.
“When I think of it in practical terms, we don’t really make sense. But I know one thing.”
“What?” she breathed.
“I don’t want to live with any regrets. Not anymore. I love you, Hailey.”
A joyous laugh built in her throat, spilling over.
“I can’t promise it’ll be easy, or that we’ll never fight.”
It would be a lie if he did. Somehow, she had a feeling they were in for many an argument. But that meant there would be makeups, too…
And makeup sex!
“But, if you’ll have me,” he continued, “I promise to try. I promise to love you unconditiona—”
She ran towards him, flinging the mic to the side and leaping onto him. He caught her—she’d known he would—and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“I love you too, Andrew.”
His mouth widened into a joyous grin.
“And I think you’re wrong.” When he lifted a questioning brow, she said, “Apart we may be a mess, but we make perfect sense together.”
“Guess I can’t argue with you there.”
Andrew guided her head to his, and their mouths met in an explosive kiss that rocked her to her very core. She was only dimly aware of the occupants of the coffee shop bursting into applause. Cheering and whistling for their impromptu performance.
When Loki’s happy bark drifted inside, Hailey smiled against Andrew’s mouth.
You’re right, Loki.
Today was a very good day…and with Andrew by her side, things were only going to get better.
Dear Reader:
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story! For news on upcoming stories and special discount prices, click here to sign up for Rosalie Lario’s Newsletter.
Reviews help other readers find books. If you liked this book, I’d truly appreciate it if you could take a moment to leave a review on Amazon.
If you do leave a review, send me a link to it at [email protected] and I’ll give you a FREE ADVANCE READER’S COPY of Good Girls Don’t, the second book in the Everly Brothers series (releasing November 17, 2014). It features the middle brother, James Everly; I’ll think you’ll love his super steamy story. (Read on for a sneak peek!)
Thank you.
Rosalie Lario
Good Girls Don’t
An Everly Brothers Novel
Rosalie Lario
Good girls don’t do one-night stands…
If there’s one thing Lyssa Rivera knows, it’s that good girls don’t do one-night stands. But it only takes a few hours in the company of sexy businessman, James Everly, to change her mind. All she wants is a night of sin with the man who’s admittedly way out of her league. Then she can go back to being painfully, boringly good.
James Everly doesn’t do relationships, not after the horrible example set by his parents. When he meets a luscious, irresistible woman at his favorite bar, he’s more than ready to show her a night of ecstasy, but that’s all it could ever be. He certainly never plans on seeing her again. Yet when he shows up at his meeting the next morning to woo a venture capitalist, he’s shocked to find his competition is the very woman whose bed he just left.
James knows he should stay away. He’s no good at long term, and that’s what a woman like Lyssa deserves. But as the two vie for the investor’s attention, he finds himself struggling to choose between the family business and the woman whose touch makes him burn with desire.
Enjoy the following excerpt from Good Girls Don’t…
Lyssa lost track of how much time she sat there before the doors to the front part of the office squeaked open and then closed.
“How’d it go?” she yelled through the open door into her private office.
The rough stride of footsteps sounded out along the wooden floor, and then a voice that was unmistakably not Nadia’s said, “How did what go?”
Lyssa gasped and shot out of her chair so fast she thought she might have given herself a case of whiplash.
“James!” No, she wasn’t just imagining his voice. He was here, in the flesh. The deliciously male flesh. “Wha-what are you doing here?”
He leaned against the doorway, somehow managing to suck up all the air in the room. His bright blue gaze took in the details of her small office. “Just thought I should check out the competition.”
His words made her cheeks grow hot. She knew her place was tiny, the location less than ideal, but it was cute and decorated with whatever accessories she’d been able to afford, and it was hers.
“I’m sure it’s nothing like your Manhattan empire,” Lyssa snapped.
When he nodded, her jaw tightened, but then he said, “No it’s warm and inviting, not cold and clinical. My father always preferred steel and glass and contemporary designs, but that’s not exactly my taste. I much prefer the homier feel of your office.”
Oh. Her anger deflated.
Slowly she sat back on her chair, grateful for the distance the desk put between her body and James’s hawkish gaze. “You seriously came all the way to Brooklyn just to check my office out? Why? You must know you’re going to win Martin’s investment.”
James let out a soft tsk and crossed the threshold. “You won’t get far with that attitude.”
Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look him in the eye. “Come on, James, stop playing games with me.”
He shrugged and sat on the mauve overstuffed chair across from her desk. “What I said earlier was true. Martin generally invests in smaller local companies. It’s a matter of pride for him. When he started out he was a one-man company and found it almost impossible to get others to invest in his dream. So now he searches out local talent with potential for growth.”
“Oh.” His words gave her hope. “Really?”
James eyed her appraisingly. “You should be very proud. If he’s taken an interest in you, it means you’re doing something right.”
His words sent an unexpected wave of pleasure through her. But then she thought of the other competition. “If that’s true, then that means Steve Peterson is a worthy adversary.”
He stared at her, nonplussed, and they both burst out laughing at the same time.
“Can’t expect him to get it right every time,” James quipped, but then he sobered. “In all seriousness, Steve’s company has seen a lot of growth over the past years, so I can understand why Martin would hear him out.”
Lyssa cocked a brow. “You’ve been doing your research.”
He gave her a slow nod. “That’s how I know your company is poised to explode sometime in the next few years, even without a cash influx from an investor.”
If only she could afford to wait that long.
“Martin is unnecessary,” James continued. “Especially considering he’ll take a percentage of ownership in exchange for his funds.”
Since confessing her family t
roubles to him was the last thing she was about to do, she forced a pleasant expression onto her face and rose to stalk toward the door. “I certainly appreciate the business advice, but you’ll understand if I rely on my own instincts when deciding what to do with my firm.”
When she motioned toward the exit, James took her not so subtle hint. He stood and adjusted the lapels on his jacket and, with a polite smile, headed toward the door. But he veered before crossing the threshold, heading instead toward her.
Whoa.
She backpedaled at the look of serious intent on his face. Her back hit a hard surface, and an instant later, his hands braced the wall on either side of her, effectively trapping her in.
“What are you—”
His head lowered to her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”
A rush of heat flooded her body.
“The feel of your skin,” he murmured, his hot breath kissing her ear. “Your mouthwatering taste.”
Her chest heaved at the imagery his words elicited. His arousing, masculine scent enveloped her, all but hijacking her senses. That must be why she just stood there, resting her head back against the wall, when she should be pushing him away.
“You can’t stop thinking about it either, can you?”
She summoned the courage to lift her hands to his chest. But instead of pushing him away, they just rested there, drinking in his heat. Traitorous hands.
“Stop,” she whispered.
Instead of obeying, he pressed a soft kiss to the pulse beating in her neck. His right hand moved off the wall and slid down the side of her body. She might as well have been naked. His molten touch seared through the thin fabric of her suit.
“James,” she pleaded. Her body refused to obey her commands. Instead of shoving him back, her fingers dug into his chest through his shirt.
“When I was inside you, all I could think was how amazing you felt.” His hand trailed down to the hem of her skirt and then he was sliding the tight fabric upward, stopping only when it was high enough to reveal her black satin panties. “Like liquid fire, burning me up from the inside.”
Lyssa whimpered when his fingers stroked her through her underwear.
Wild Girls Rule Page 17
