Bossy Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

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Bossy Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 32

by Nicole Snow

“Well,” Brina starts. “Listen, I don’t think it’ll go that far. She seems pretty shadowy if she’s been out of Ward’s life this long like you said, right?”

  “You don’t understand. We—well, we—”

  “You slept together!” Brina finishes with a gasp. “Whoa. Was it good?”

  Aaand I’m all out of tears now as an emotional freight train slams through me.

  Shame. Regret. Memories. Growls. Smiles. Laughs. Tears.

  Also known as love, that cactus-thorn cocktail with a bittersweet aftertaste—and somewhere along the way, I was stupid enough to get drunk on it.

  “Paige?” Brina calls my name again, waiting patiently.

  “I’m still here. And yes. He was being so sweet to me. I’m not sure it matters now. All the red flags are waving, Brina. My mom called me this morning and reminded me how stupid this is because men don’t play games with women they truly care about. Then when Reese came to pick me up for the conference, she gave me this cute bouquet Ward bought, so I thought maybe Mom was wrong and he actually likes me.” I wipe my eyes, sniffing needles.

  “Gah, oldest trick in the book,” Brina scoffs. “Billionaire bad boys are all the same. Mag aside, I mean. And your mom’s wrong about one thing. Women men care about are the first they play games with because they’re too damn scared just to be honest.”

  A shaky smile pulls at my lips.

  I miss Brina and her bluntness. I wipe my eyes again. “His mom said she doubts we’re real, and we won’t last. I’m worried what she could do with that information.”

  “You didn’t give her any proof, right?” Brina asks.

  “No.”

  “Well, I don’t know Ward well enough to say if he cares about you or not, but he doesn’t not care. That much was obvious when I saw you two together. Before you go nuclear, go home and just ask him about it. If it’s all a game, it gives him a fair chance to tell you. And if it’s not, he’ll probably tell you that, too.”

  Probably.

  Yeah, right.

  The day I get anything but heart-stabby signal noise from Boss Grump the Irresistible is the day they’ll need space heaters in hell.

  But for once, I hope against hope that Brina’s sage advice hits the mark.

  22

  Inappropriate (Ward)

  It’s six o’clock, and Paige hasn’t come back to the office.

  Strange. I asked her to return after the conference and give me her immediate impressions. Notes can’t always suffice for some things.

  She’s never not followed a professional directive.

  I drum my fingers on the desk, trying to ignore the scenarios playing out in my mind. If she hadn’t been there when Reese went to pick her up, I’d know about it. If there was an accident on the way home, I’d know about that too. Grandma had the car equipped with world class security and emergency alert services.

  After another minute of trying to be the heartless, steely-eyed avatar I present to the world, I fucking crack.

  I pick up my phone and start typing, What are you doing?

  Working. What else? she texts back less than a minute later.

  You’re supposed to do that here. I add a devil emoji to the end.

  God help me.

  It’s worse that I’m teething my lip, waiting for the second when my phone pings again a minute later.

  I went home, Ward. Didn’t see the point in going downtown again.

  What the hell? What’s eating her? Is this some new game?

  I asked you to report in. Especially about the folks you met there. Notes can’t summarize tone or facial expressions like a human brain, I send, doing my damnedest to keep it polite.

  A few seconds later, she replies. Sorry. If you really want me, I’ll be there. I just thought I could get more done here today.

  Shit. I may be bad at texts but I know when a woman wants distance.

  You don’t have to, the report can wait.

  I just wanted to see you.

  I glare at the screen, wondering who just typed that. What the hell has she done to me?

  Then my phone chimes again.

  Okay! Be there soon.

  I reply instantly. Don’t. I’m coming home.

  And I do, heading downstairs and hopping in the Lincoln, locking eyes with Reese in the mirror.

  “Was Paige okay today?” I ask, hating how I can’t even hesitate.

  “She’s been a little weird. What did you do to her now?” Reese flings back.

  “The whole day? She was fine when I left this morning. You gave her the flowers, right?”

  Reese pulls into the street.

  “Well, she seemed kinda miffed when she got in the car to go to the conference. I just assumed you were fighting about something. Brandt men do a lot of boneheaded things—”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion of me or your—whatever your deal is with my brother,” I snarl.

  “Relax! I was mostly talking about Nick...” She clears her throat and looks away quickly, turning red, making me wonder what the hell is up with her and my brother. “Anyhow, she blushed and got excited about the flowers and the cute bear. She loved them. I thought that was that. But when I picked her up, her eyes were red, and she wouldn’t say more than two words.”

  “We didn’t fight,” I insist, my hands balling into fists.

  Reese laughs. “Someone pissed her off. Lucky it wasn’t you, I guess, because if looks could kill...Paige must have ninja moves.”

  “Who?” My question rockets out harsher than I realize.

  “Down, boss. Jeez.” Reese holds up her hand. “I don’t know. I told you, she didn’t say anything.”

  I sink back against the seat, thoroughly bewildered.

  What fucking gives?

  Paige is warm, friendly, and always helpful. Who would possibly want to hurt her?

  This caveman urge to smash in the face of whoever did her wrong tears through me.

  “When I find out, they’re dead,” I grunt, more than half serious.

  “Calm down, Rambo-Romeo.” Reese snickers. “Overprotective much?”

  I don’t respond.

  Soon, the car stops in front of my building and I jump out, almost forgetting my briefcase in the rush to the elevator.

  “Paige,” I call as I walk through the door.

  When I don’t find her on the couch, I stalk past the wine room, taking a quick glance through the kitchen, then beeline upstairs to my room.

  She’s not there.

  “Paige!” I call again, my heart hammering louder and meaner with every step.

  By the time I rip her guest suite door open, I’ve lost my shit.

  Too soon.

  She’s flat on her back in bed with her phone hovering in front of her face.

  “I thought you were working?” I clear my throat, raking a relieved hand through my hair.

  “I finished what I was working on and decided to call it an early night. I like pacing myself sometimes. What are you going to do? Fire me?” She doesn’t even look up.

  I laugh because she’s right. I can’t fire her until the engagement shenanigans end. But the oddly deflated aura around her isn’t the Paige Holly I know.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She casts me a half glance. “Nothing.”

  Total bull.

  Crossing the room, I flop down next to her. “I left a different girl this morning. What happened to her? Talk to me.”

  Sighing, she puts her phone down.

  Fuck, Reese was right. Her eyes are red. Irritated. Wounded.

  “I just...I met your mom, Ward.”

  I do a double take as she nods.

  “That’s a rough day,” I growl absently, trying not to launch into the instant anger surge I feel. What the hell did Mother say to her?

  Slowly, I trace a puffy eye with my fingertip, cradling her face.

  “Did she upset you?” I ask, searching her eyes.

  “It’s just allergies,” she lies, strumming the fu
ry vibrating through my veins.

  Yeah. If her medical records on file with HR don’t confirm a prescription for an Epi-Pen, Giselle will pay.

  “What are you allergic to?”

  “Smoke,” she says quietly.

  Maybe it is allergies. Partly. My mother always was a walking chimney.

  “Where did you run into her? People don’t smoke inside the Palmer House anymore.”

  “She’s still technically a Brandt, and before that she was a senator’s daughter, right? She can do whatever.”

  My jaw pinches.

  That sounds familiar, and not at all like the girl I’m fake-engaged to.

  “Shit. So you really did meet my mom—those are her words. Paige, if she’s done something—”

  “I’m fine, Ward. She strutted up and sat down right beside me during a break in the panels. She practically blew smoke in my face.”

  “Because she thinks we’re engaged?” I guess, shaking my head. “If this goes off the rails, it’s not because we don’t look engaged enough. It’s because my parents could fuck up a billion-dollar lotto win.”

  She smiles faintly, her eyes distant.

  “That’s the first smile I’ve seen since I got home.” I lean over and kiss her lips. “Don’t let her get to you. She doesn’t have the guts to sabotage what we’re doing. It’s Dad I’m worried about with that bullshit.”

  “She said something interesting,” Paige says.

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, it’s none of my business, but—”

  “You’ve tied your reputation to mine,” I cut in. “It’s your business. Our business, woman.”

  “Are you sure? I guess I was just surprised to find out you were engaged before this.” She bites her lip and turns her head away. “It wasn’t fake that time, was it, Ward? But your mom clearly knows that I am.”

  Fuck. My gut churns, sick with bad memories, so much crap packed into that singular statement.

  “You didn’t admit anything, did you?”

  “Of course not. If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be. We’ve come too far to ruin this,” she snaps. “Could you go? I need sleep.”

  She needs to know I’ve got her. I never concealed anything to hurt her.

  Hell, being able to get hurt was never part of this sham. It just happened, and we’re still falling a little deeper with every illicit kiss.

  I slide an arm under her and try to pull her closer, but she anchors herself to the sheets, intent on keeping her distance.

  “I thought you were staying in my room?” I ask quietly.

  “That wasn’t in the contract.”

  I turn my head and try not to laugh. That won’t help, but damn she’s cute when she’s pissed and stubborn.

  “I was engaged before, if you’re dying to know. It ended badly. Her name was Maria, and she was from a different world.”

  Slowly, Paige turns and faces me again.

  Finally.

  “Like me, you mean.”

  “No. Like I didn’t have the pedigree to walk in her footsteps. Her father was from Spain, a distant royal. They were old money with access to big, powerful names. Not the kind of people who enjoy getting a whiff of any dirty laundry,” I say, swallowing the bitterness that tries to creep into my voice.

  “I heard she was a princess.”

  I look at her. “What else have you heard?”

  “She’s a supermodel. Maybe a superhuman princess,” she says with a snort.

  “She’s a model. Not a princess—the noble titles are tenuous at best, even if they were very proud of them. Point is, her family was wealthier than mine and far more blue-blooded.”

  “Wow. I kind of thought Brandts were the cream of the crop.”

  “Hardly. In the billionaire world, we’re comfortable, but still very much new money.” I clasp my fingers together, trying to work out the tension.

  “So what happened?” she asks, her voice unsure if she wants an answer.

  “The Parnell incident was ripped open again after we announced our engagement, just like my dad—and probably my mom—wants to do now.”

  “Why? I don’t get why your parents think it helps them to keep bringing up a horrible experience.” Her green eyes flicker in the shadows, baffled and afraid.

  “Dylan’s family started a civil suit. They couldn’t get anywhere poking at the criminal justice system, not with flimsy evidence and the killer lawyers my parents enlisted. The new lawsuit put it back in the headlines. And right now, I think my parents hope that if they bring it up again, Grandma will pay them to go away.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “They’re crazy. Anyway, with Dylan’s death rehashed and Dad mouthing off about it publicly, there was a ton of bad press. Maria told me to my face she deserved better, but she wouldn’t back out. She gave her word to marry me. I told her she could walk the fuck away and blame me. She chose not to, swore it would all blow over, and I was relieved. Truth be told, I didn’t want more humiliation. In the media’s eyes, I’d go from being the billionaire bad boy with psycho parents to the billionaire bad boy with psycho parents who was also dumped by a duchess.”

  “You’re not bad,” Paige says with a whisper of a smile.

  “You’d like to believe that.” I wink, trying like hell to lighten the mood. Really, I’m trying to deflect the ache tainting my bones.

  “But you couldn’t move past it, could you? She became your ex.”

  “I’m getting there,” I whisper, running my hands over my face before I continue. “We made the mistake of having this big engagement dinner for our families to meet. I didn’t invite my parents, because—well—you’ve met my mother.”

  Paige nods, barely breathing as she waits for more.

  “Dad got pissed he wasn’t invited and showed up anyway. Drunk as a skunk, of course. Grandma asked him to leave, and he grabbed a bottle of wine off a waiter’s tray and smashed it against the table. He yelled and screamed at everyone there until the cops came.”

  “Oh my God,” she hisses. “Ward...”

  “It gets better. They dragged him off in handcuffs because he refused to go peacefully. As you can imagine, dinner ended early. I went back to my penthouse, wondering how I’d ever explain the shitshow, and Maria arrived a little later. She didn’t hold back. I’ll never forget her words, when she said, ‘I don’t see how I’ll ever have a normal family with kids. Not with that hideous man in my life.’”

  I pause, watching as Paige’s eyes widen.

  “Key word being my life. Not ours. I knew where it was going then. She cut my heart out and the worst part is—the fucking worst—I couldn’t blame her. No one should have to put up with the shit Nick and I deal with. So I told her I’d make it easy and call the engagement off. I expected her to act upset, then tell me I was right. No, she just smiled and hugged me. She thanked me for doing the right thing, for freeing her, and walked right out the door.” I’m pinching the bridge of my nose, the physical pain numbing the sting of that night.

  “It’s okay,” Paige whispers, stroking my arm. “She sounds like a selfish piece of—”

  I don’t let her finish.

  “No. I was selfish that night. I could’ve put Nick to shame with my stupidity when I hit the closest bar and brought some woman home. One of Osprey’s bloggers got a nice picture of her leaving with me the next day when I gave her a ride home. Rumors flew that the engagement ended because I cheated. Maria never spoke up to clear the record, not after she was back in Paris and far from Chicago drama. I never corrected it.”

  “Holy shit. That’s almost worse than Austin!”

  “I’m over it,” I grind out, hoping that’s true.

  “But you loved her?”

  With a heavy sigh, I shake my head.

  “Maybe once in another life. Maybe I was just fooling myself. Anyone I can extricate from my life that easily, I couldn’t have had much of a connection with.”

  “You have no reason to protect Maria
. What she did was disgusting, Ward.”

  “She didn’t deserve my family’s BS. She panicked and bailed for herself. Frankly, you don’t deserve it either, Paige. Can you imagine if you were stuck in this abusive drama web that has no end? It’s no damn wonder I’ve lost my capacity to love. You don’t need this shit. You’re the warmest person I know.”

  “What did you just say?”

  She stares at me, her lips trembling.

  “I don’t want a dysfunctional life for you. Not after we’re moving ahead with Winthrope. Your parents worry about you. Your dad called me after you gave them the NDA, you know. He told me you’d better come out of this better off than you went into it, or he’d castrate me. And if anyone ever asked why it ended, I’d admit to wrongdoing.”

  “Crap! I wish you would’ve told me sooner. I never wanted them butting in,” she says, turning a shade paler.

  “Your old man was looking out for you, and he should. That’s the kind of family you deserve. You don’t need a man who can’t feel.”

  She stares at me like I’m insane and purses her lips into a thin pink line.

  “What?”

  She inches closer and cups my face with her hands, brushing her fingers through my short beard.

  “Ward, you’re so wrong. You can still love just fine. You love Nick and your grandma like crazy. You’d do anything for them. You’re only a dick to people in the office to hide how much you want the best for them. And with me, you care—you care so much.”

  Damn her, I want to deny it.

  Instead, I pull her closer, gripping her wrists, and this time she makes no effort to stop me.

  “I know it hurt, but you should forget her. Any woman who’d throw away the chance to be with you because your parents belong in a nuthouse isn’t worth your time. You’re no loveless beast. You’re just a bossy grump who doesn’t know how to let down his guard.”

  Before I can blink, her mouth attacks mine.

  I open, tracing her bottom lip with my tongue, needing her taste more than I need oxygen right after I’ve flayed myself open.

  My brain throbs like hell, trying to figure out why.

  Or am I just struggling to admit the reason because I fucking know?

  Paige trembles against me as her arms tighten around my neck.

 

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