Bossy Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance
Page 35
“Sure felt like we weren’t. But I’m glad you’re back.” I give him a shy smile.
“And I don’t even think I can live without you anymore,” he rumbles.
This man.
I throw my arms around him and squeeze. “Give me thirty more seconds before your call.”
His lips stamp my head, vibrating with his laugh.
“See? High-maintenance.” He puts his forefinger and thumb under my face, lifts my head, and kisses me passionately.
“I’ll be back soon,” he says, heading for the door.
There’s an “I love you” trapped in my throat, but I don’t let it out, even if it’s true.
I’m determined now.
I won’t say it first, even if the only Wardhole I’m worried about now is the Ward-hole he’s left in my heart.
24
On A Roll (Ward)
I pour two fingers of scotch and sit at the desk in my study.
Life has gone to shit pretty well the last few days. My parents have always been demons, but until now their drama was confined to the family and anyone else unlucky enough to get sucked up in their orbit.
Don’t get me wrong. What they let happen to Dylan Parnell was atrocious, but even the kid actor made a choice to stumble into their dealings.
Paige didn’t. She’s completely innocent, and the thing that keeps me up with bleary eyes and a mighty headache is the fact that it’s me.
I’m the selfish prick who dragged this sweet woman into the muck. And all to run an engagement con job on an eccentric British deca-billionaire.
Am I my father’s son after all?
I’ll never forget the gleam of fear in her eyes when I rammed my fist into my desk after talking to Winthrope. I’m the one who put it there, and I’m the heel who’s making her sick as a dog with worry over my dumbass.
Her words earlier this week about how I care for people, how I’m no beast, loop through my head. So does the horrific truth that she’s falling too hard, too deep, and it’s proven by her urge to help.
I take a burning sip of scotch.
No, I can’t let Paige get wrecked. My baggage will smash her to bits like the funny, achingly beautiful, and creative butterfly woman she is.
She can’t come out of this fuckery as jaded as Nick and me.
Everyone thinks my little brother is a joker playboy, and he is. But Nick dives into his pursuits for good reason.
It’s a hell of a lot easier than thinking too much, carrying the cross-sized chip on my shoulder. Nick keeps women at a distance so he doesn’t have to get close to anyone. It makes sense.
If he doesn’t, he can’t damage them.
With Paige, I have to do better.
I have to throw her back from the brink before she steps into a raging fire.
The door to my study creaks opens.
My doting bride-to-never-be stands in the doorway with a silver tray of food she must’ve swiped from Grayson. “Hi. I made you dinner.”
I’m up like a shot with a muttered ,“thanks,” wondering why my throat feels so raw.
She moves to my desk and sets the tray down with a crooked grin.
Then I’m beyond any help. I hold her like a wrecked man clinging to a rock, lost in a bellowing sea.
Fuck, I shouldn’t do this.
If I’m going to protect her, I’ve got to quit encouraging this, feeding these...feelings.
She stretches up on her toes and brushes her lips against my cheek with a soft sigh that ignites my blood.
“Don’t keep the vampire work schedule, okay?” she whispers.
“No promises. I’m part Dracula.” I wrap her tighter, finding her lips with my own. “Vampires are still sexy, right?”
“Um, not the Count kind,” she throws back with a laugh. “I mean it about working yourself to death, Ward.”
Awesome. Not even truly engaged and I’ve got myself a beautifully bossy one.
How do I quit encouraging this? With the way her blouse dips into her cleavage, I want to tear off her top right here. “The sooner I finish, the faster I’ll join you.”
“Hope I didn’t disturb you,” she says with a wink.
I don’t know what it is about her words, but they make me want her more.
I bend down and crush my mouth to hers.
She matches my urgency with a heat that drops through me like a spinning bomb.
We kiss like it might be the last time, and that scares me.
Still, if I’m strong enough to protect her like I should, the end was always coming.
“Paige, you never disturb me. You’re a distraction,” I tell her, pulling away.
She grins gloriously. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Haven’t figured that out yet.” It’s more honest than I mean to be.
Her face falls, and I regret my words.
I quickly clasp her chin between my thumb and forefinger.
“Give me a few hours. I’ll be done here.” I kiss her on the forehead again, wishing like hell my lips never had to leave her flesh.
“See you soon, Warden.” And with a smile flung back over the switch of her hips, she’s out the door.
Gulping down the rest of my drink, I slump back into my chair, picking at the food.
The seared buttery steak with herbs and garlic mashed potatoes she’s thrown together revives my dead appetite.
I’m shoveling it in like a horse when three bangs come from the front of the house, followed by a pause, and then two more. The alarm system blips as the door opens.
I’m on my feet, racing through the place with a need to investigate.
“Nick?” Paige says in a hushed whisper I can hear from a few paces away.
“Paige, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Great, he’s drunk tonight. His voice says it all. And here I thought he’d been sobering up lately.
I guess dealing with manipulative, psychotic parents isn’t enough—I need an ugly-drunk little brother on top of it.
“What’s wrong?” Paige asks.
“Is Ward home?”
I come stalking around the corner, ready to scold his ass. Instead, I find him looking too much like a wide-eyed, disheveled kid I haven’t seen in decades.
What the fuck is going on?
“I’m right here, Nick. Are you okay?”
“Ward! I, uh...I...I really boned us,” he rushes out, hanging his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Define boned.” I fold my arms, staring him down, unsure if I’m scared for him or just pissed.
“Please don’t be mad,” he grinds out, his face red and ragged.
A soft hand clenches my shoulder, and I rub Paige’s fingertips, before pushing her off me softly and closing the distance with Nick. I grab his shoulders.
“You have to talk to me, man,” I growl.
He nods like a scoundrel accepting his sentence.
“Little bro, it’s okay, but you’re freaking out Paige. Let’s go outside?” I pat his back, leading the way.
“I’m fi—” Paige starts.
I raise an eyebrow at her and mouth, “Sorry.”
This is between brothers. I hope she understands.
Her brisk nod and incandescent green eyes say she does.
I lead Nick to the balcony and pull a chair out for him.
“Sit down and tell me what’s wrong,” I insist.
“The shit with Dad and Winthrope. I’m...I’m the mole, Ward,” he says, refusing to look at me.
What. The. Hell.
Maybe he is drunk.
I cock my head. “Okay, I’m not sure I follow. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us—not intentionally—so take a deep breath. It’ll be okay if you tell me what—”
“It’s not okay. I fucked up! I let everyone down. You, Grandma, Paige, the company,” he splutters. “It’s all my fault. Thank God it didn’t hit, but if it had, it would still be my fault and an even bigger problem.”
I’m officially lost.
For a second, he’s a hissing rock of a man, his face tilted up and nostrils flaring, sucking in air.
“Dude. It’s like you’re not listening. Almost losing the Winthrope deal? My fault. Having him call you and tell you your engagement is fake? My fault.”
It’s no one’s fault but Victor Brandt’s, and maybe Mother’s for confronting Paige at a conference before this shit went down. I wonder if they’re coordinating, even if they loathe each other now.
I shut the door behind us before turning to him again. “How is this your fault?”
“Well, you know I stayed in touch with Mom over the years...”
My brows knife down.
“Yeah, and I’ve never understood why. If you don’t care about all the hell she’s dragged us through, what about the hell she brought on Grandma?”
“She’s still our mom,” he says weakly. “Even if she’s a monster.”
“You’d be better off if our mother was a Komodo dragon, Nicholas.”
“Grow the fuck up, Ward,” he snarls, squaring his shoulders. “You haven’t wanted me to talk to her for years, because you hate her.”
I roll my eyes and look at the sky, flexing my fist.
Everyone should have to deal with a little brother for the ultimate test in patience.
I meet his gaze, chasing down the urge to knock some sense into him.
“I’ve always said it was your goddamned choice. If you want to subject yourself to a slow and painful poisoning, who am I to stop you? I’m slightly pissed you covered up any recent contact, and not just to me, but to Grandma too.”
“Yeah. No reason to lie by omission. It’s not like you’d react like a human volcano or anything.” He snorts, those eyes that are a shade greener than mine flaming.
I’m racking my brain for a retort when something dawns on me.
“Wait. Why did you say this thing with Winthrope and the mystery package was your fault? Did you tell her?”
“Dumbass, of course not,” he flings back.
I push past the strong desire to bloody his nose. “It’s not your fault, then. Why are you here?”
“What?”
My shoulders bow out.
“If you didn’t give her information, it’s not your fault. It can’t be. I don’t think she went to Winthrope or Osprey and the Tea anyway. That was Dad. Sorry. I shouldn’t have raged when you told me you’ve stayed in touch with her. She’s our mother. It’s natural you’d want her acceptance—even if it’s not something she deserves to give.”
He holds a hand up. “We’re not close, but she is our mom. I talk to her once a month or so, just enough to ease her conscience.”
I nod, then squint.
“What did you say to her?”
“She came into the office a while ago while I was working alone. I know, they’re not supposed to be allowed on company property, but...she cried and apologized for all the shit she’s done, Ward. She begged me to forgive her—”
“And said it was going to be different this time,” I finish with a hard roll of my eyes. “The usual song and dance.”
“Right, and since I’ve heard it before, I thought it was just another one of her drunken guilt trips. It was that week when we were all pushing hard, trying to close the Winthrope deal, so my desk was a mess. I cleaned it this morning, looking for something for Trista. That’s when I realized some media plans were missing.”
Where the fuck is this going? Nowhere good.
“Okay? And? What media plans do you mean?”
“The big plans we hatched a couple months ago. A detailed page of media events complete with love cues to help you and Paige come across as authentic, in love—”
“What?” I damn near bite my tongue.
“The page that was missing. Ward, it was that page.”
“You fucking idiot!” It tears out of me like a Nick-seeking missile.
He doesn’t try to defend himself.
“You’re the leak. You’re the reason our mother knew where to find Paige, and lay into her...” I swipe a hand over my face, temples pulsing.
Silence.
“You should have cut her off when I told you to. You know what she is,” I snarl.
He turns his head away from me with a rough sigh.
“I’m sorry, Ward. You know I couldn’t. I wasn’t fucking strong enough.”
“You shit the bed this time. There’s no telling what she could’ve done with hard evidence,” I say. “I don’t need to tell you how lucky we are that Winthrope didn’t bite.”
“I know.”
“But like I said, it’s not completely your fault.”
“How is it not?” He meets my eyes again, that lost boy look on his face.
“No one wants to think their parents hate them enough to wage war like ours. You’re constantly seeking her approval.”
And constantly getting rejected, but there’s no point in stating the obvious.
“You don’t have a problem keeping your distance. It’s easy for you,” he says glumly.
“I maintain I was born in a test tube.” I shrug.
“I wish I could be as cold as you sometimes,” he says.
“Even if you didn’t keep confidential information as secure as you should have, you didn’t make her steal it. She knows she’s horrible. She knows we’re fucked up because she’s the most selfish bitch on the face of the planet, and she preyed on that. You want to know whose fault this is?”
“Whose?” His voice is so quiet it’s like he’s six, and I’m eight and need to protect him again.
“Giselle and Victor’s. No one else’s.”
He’s quiet for a minute.
“I realized something, though.”
“What?”
“For Mom to be involved with this, I don’t think it’s just about money,” he says.
“Like they ever cared about anything else?” I snap.
“If you did pay Dad off, what’s the chance he’d share it with Mom?”
I shrug. “She’d pop up and make the same demand. Pay me or I’ll blow the cover on your engagement hoax.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. If money is what she was after, she would have gone straight to Winthrope herself. Why involve a man she hates? There was at least a page or two of that media material in the bombshell they sent with Dad’s handwriting on it.”
That’s a good question. I don’t know.
“This was about hurting Grandma and getting even. Spite, maybe,” Nick says with a sigh.
Maybe.
“She always was a vindictive witch.” I scratch at the needling sensation in my throat.
“We got lucky, Ward. You fell so hard for your girl—”
“Paige is a sweethe—” I stop mid-word, horrified at how fast it spills out of me.
Nick’s smile is the kind a man reserves for casino wins. And I’ve just given him the damn jackpot.
“Easy, bro. I didn’t mean to insult your girlfriend,” he says smugly.
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
“When are you proposing for real? Don’t you think it’s about time?”
“I’m not the marrying type, and you know it,” I whip back.
“So, you’re cool if I marry her then? Because I’ve been considering making a move.”
My stomach knots, even if I think he’s just messing with me.
Joking or not, I’m still ten seconds from pushing my own brother off the balcony.
“You’ve never even been on a real date in what, five years? Not since you were swept up with Carmen what’s-her-face.” I don’t add more, knowing Nick’s stormy relationship with that terrible woman is almost as big an open wound as my torched engagement.
He laughs so hard he bends at the waist.
“Relax! I’m just fucking with you, man. I’ve never seen you
so pale.” He stops to laugh it up some more before throwing a glare. “Seriously. Hurry up and propose before someone else beats you to the punch. She has plenty of eyes on her, and not everyone’s going to be playing.”
The jackass keeps grinning, enjoying how he has me pinned.
“I’m ten seconds from kicking your ass. You’ll deserve it, too.”
“Yeah, the only problem is you won’t kick anything because I deserve it. It’ll be because you’re pissed I had the balls to tell you that girl has you wrapped around her finger—and you like it.”
“Does not,” I mash out between pinched teeth.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be cool if I took her out after the ninety days, huh?”
“You’re taking this shit too far.”
“Get it over with. Wife her. Tell her the ring means business. A serious wedding might fix our problems,” he says, stroking his chin.
“Whatever. So that’s what this is about. If I marry her, you don’t have to feel bad that you let Mom in your office. Man up and deal with it, because I told you, I’m not the marrying type—and if I were going to marry someone it wouldn’t be Paige Holly in a million years.”
I mean it, too.
There’s no way I’d ever let my parents destroy such a warm-hearted angel.
“Ward!” Nick raises his eyebrows.
“I told you, there’s no room in my life for love. I’m better off sticking to greasing the machine that keeps us employed. Why would I give that up for fucking nuptials? Paige is better off without me.”
Nick looks past me, a pained look on his face.
“Ward—”
“Besides, I’d have to love her first, you know.” I pause, glowering, hoping my face doesn’t give up a single flash of what I feel—what I’m terrified to admit. “I don’t even think I’m capable of love,” I add.
“Damn it, Ward. Shut up,” he snarls, leaning forward.
“No, we’ve got to get this done and end this game with our parents before it’s too late. This fake out has gone on long enough. I can’t marry her and it’s not fair to her to keep drawing it out. She’s getting obsessed. She even cooks for me now, and it’s decent grub.”
“Ward. Brother. Would you shut your fucking mouth?” Nick growls, waving his arms.
I cock my head.
“You’re the idiot who brought it up. If you’re pissed at getting an earful, I—”