“I’ve been doing an online bachelor of education degree. My eventual goal is to be a properly qualified foundation phase educator. Preschool teacher, really. I’ve been on a midterm break, but I have a couple of assignments to complete before the new semester starts next week.”
“That’s fantastic, Lia.” Her lips quirked slightly in acknowledgment of his sincere compliment.
“Thank you. But I’ll be busy, so it’s probably best to end our fling.”
“I don’t want to end it.” He knew he sounded petulant, but fuck it, he wasn’t anywhere close to getting her out of his system. “You’re just punishing me because I don’t meet your crazy high morality standard. News flash, princess, nobody can ever meet those impossibly high standards.”
He was starting to recognize that he only ever called her “princess” when he was annoyed with her. Maybe because she put on that prim, unapproachable, high-and-mighty façade whenever she was upset about something. It rubbed him the wrong way.
“Brand, let’s not make this unpleasant. I’d like it if we could remain civil and respectful of each other.”
“God, you’re cold! As frigid as a fucking iceberg.” She paled and flinched at his words, which instantly made him regret saying them. He had meant that she was harsh and unyielding in her decision making, but he wasn’t sure that was how she took it. And that bothered him. Especially when he considered within which other context those words could be used. Somebody had called her frigid—sexually frigid—and Sam was willing to bet it was that prick she was once engaged to. Again, he felt a burning urge to find the bastard and fuck him the hell up.
“Please,” she was saying, her voice quiet. “I have to get home.”
“Sunshine,” he began tentatively, keeping his voice low and sincere, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to go this way. I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”
She smiled, but it was one of those horrible ones that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Thank you for saying that.”
The prim little thank-you absolutely shredded him, and he fought the urge to gather her into his arms and simply hold her.
“Fuck.” He heard his voice falter on the word. “I’m seriously going to miss you, sunshine.”
“Goodbye, Brand.”
He had no choice—he took another lingering look at her downcast profile before acquiescing to her wishes and leaving the car. Sam stood watching, the heel of his hand pressing against his chest, as she drove away without a backward glance.
Just because Lia had ended their fling did not mean that Brand would magically disappear from her life.
Ha, if only. She managed to avoid him at the animal shelter by changing her visiting times, but she knew, from Siphiso, that he came to see Trevor every day.
And she saw him again just three nights later, having dinner at MJ’s with Daisy and Mason. Lia immediately felt awkward because she was meeting Michael Kendrick, a local accountant, for dinner. It was a blind date—one of the residents from the retirement home had been pushing Lia to meet her grandson for months. And yesterday—after making the less than rational decision to get back on the dating horse, so to speak—she’d asked Mrs. Kendrick for his details. She didn’t know anything about him other than the fact that he was an accountant and—according to his grandmother—a very handsome boy.
Lia halted when she spotted Brand, her first instinct to turn around and wait for Michael outside. She would suggest they go to Ralphie’s for a drink instead. But Daisy caught her eye and waved enthusiastically. Biting back a groan, Lia pasted a smile on her face and waved back. Mason and Brand looked up, too, and she could see the subtle shift in the latter’s body language when he saw her.
When Daisy beckoned her toward them, Lia sighed and reluctantly walked over to their table.
“Hey, wanna join us?” Daisy asked, and Lia, diligently avoiding Brand’s eyes, shook her head, hoping she looked reluctant enough.
“Thanks for the invitation, but I have a date.” She sneaked a glance at Brand and was surprised to see his brow lower at her words.
“You can both join us,” Brand suggested, and this time she met his eyes directly, trying to prevent her sister and brother-in-law from seeing the daggers she was throwing at him.
“I don’t think so.”
“A date? Who is he? Anyone I know?” Daisy asked eagerly.
“I don’t think so. His name’s Michael Kendrick.”
“Mikey? I know him, we were in the same grade.” Which meant that he was about twenty-eight, four years younger than Lia. Not a deal breaker or anything, just disconcerting. Most guys in their thirties were married already anyway, so it was actually surprising that this was the first younger man she’d encountered since she had started dating again.
“Doing a bit of cradle snatching, are you, Lia?” Brand’s voice was as smooth as silk, and Lia tried very hard not to react to his comment.
“Younger men have so much more stamina, though, don’t they?”
Gah! Had she really just said that? She didn’t make insinuations about sex in public, or in private, for that matter, no matter how mild. Daisy looked startled by her comment, Mason was grinning, and Brand looked angry. She didn’t think she had ever seen him angry before. Charming, in pain, turned on, tired, and grumpy, but never truly angry.
He opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something scathing, when a deep voice, coming from behind Daff, interrupted him.
“Dahlia?” Lia spun around and then smiled as she looked up at the tall, very handsome man standing behind her. He had dark hair, a well-maintained beard, and deep-set brown eyes. “I’m Michael. Nice to meet you.”
“How did you know it was me?” Lia asked in confusion, still a bit awed by his height and good looks. Blind dates were supposed to be disappointing, but Michael Kendrick exceeded expectations by a mile. She heard Brand make an irritable sound and ignored him.
“You said you’d be wearing a pink cardigan,” he said with a kind smile. “Although I’d say it’s more fuchsia, don’t you agree? It’s a very pretty cardigan—did you make it yourself?”
Lia looked down at her bright cardigan and blushed.
“Yes, I did. I knit . . . as a hobby. I like to make pretty things. I put a lot of them away, as gifts, or, you know, for the future and . . .” She was babbling. She cleared her throat, her voice tapering off, and took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Brand’s. He was watching her intently, so she shifted her gaze back to Michael’s patient stare.
“Hi, Daisy, long time no see,” Michael said, smiling at her sister and bending down to drop a kiss on her cheek. Oddly enough, Mason, who was usually absurdly possessive over Daisy, remained completely relaxed through the interaction.
“Hello, Mikey. Nice to see you again. This is my husband, Mason, and his friend Sam.” The two men stood up to shake hands with Michael.
“We should find our own table, Michael,” Lia said, and he grinned, looking quite roguish.
“We should . . . although maybe we could join this table? Unless you all are expecting more people?”
Daisy looked hesitant, her eyes widening as she looked at Lia, who was frantically shaking her head behind Michael’s back.
“Not at all,” Brand said pleasantly. “More than enough space for you two at our table.”
Sam kept his eyes on Lia’s miserable face as she and her date joined their table. He shouldn’t have intervened—he should have let them go off to their own table. But he was trying to protect her. Initially, after learning about her date, he’d felt an irrational spurt of possessiveness at the thought of Lia out with some undeserving bloke. Worse, what if she liked the guy? What if there was a second date and a third? What if it became a thing? Sam didn’t like that idea, because it would completely eliminate the possibility of any renewal of future intimate interactions between Lia and him.
Then this Kendrick guy showed up and he was tall, dark, and handsome. A slightly younger stud. He could
tell from Lia’s reaction that the guy had made a strong first impression, and all Sam had wanted to do was sabotage the whole fucking evening.
But then Kendrick had opened his mouth and called Lia’s pink cardigan fuchsia. What the fuck was a fuchsia? At first Sam wasn’t sure if the guy was referring to the wool or the design until it had clicked that he meant the color. And then the guy had turned to the table, his eyes had gone over Mason, checking him out quite thoroughly, before his gaze had fallen on Sam and lingered. Sam knew that look—he had perfected that look. The surreptitious and appreciative once-over.
Sam wasn’t sure why the guy was on a date with Lia, but he was pissed off for a different reason now. He didn’t know what Kendrick’s deal was, maybe he was into guys and girls, whatever. But this asshole was blatantly checking Mason and Sam out, which was more than a little disrespectful to Lia. Not cool. She should be the man’s sole focus this evening.
Sam wasn’t going to allow this dick to play fast and loose with Lia’s feelings. Not on my fucking watch! he told himself. Sam knew it wasn’t his place to be watching over Lia. She wouldn’t want or appreciate it. Especially since his motives weren’t at all altruistic.
But that was why Sam had invited them to join the group, and Lia could stare daggers at him all night if she wanted to, but at least she wasn’t going to develop feelings for a guy who didn’t look set to return them. He tried to ignore the hypocrisy in the sentiment—the longer he and Lia had kept flinging, the more likely she was to develop feelings for Sam. No matter her protestations to the contrary. So maybe there was more than one prick sitting at the table tonight. Sam was honest enough to acknowledge that and selfish enough to dismiss the feelings of guilt that accompanied that self-awareness.
Daisy and Mason looked a bit awkward at the sudden inclusion of a clearly reluctant Lia and her date to their table. Mason was giving him curious sidelong looks, but Sam avoided his friend’s eyes.
“So Michael,” he began amiably. “What do you do?”
“I’m a senior accountant at Rutger, Powell & Lee.”
“Is that a local firm?” he asked, and Michael nodded, his eyes on Sam.
“It is. You have an accent. English?”
“Yes. How did you meet Lia?”
“Through my grandmother. You look familiar. You’re that guy, aren’t you? The one who saved Laura Prentiss. You’re a bodyguard.”
“Close protection officer,” Sam corrected. “And yes, I’m that guy. Is your grandmother Mrs. Kendrick at the old-age home?”
“Retirement home,” Lia corrected, her voice short, and he smiled at her.
“Sorry, the retirement home. She dances a mean waltz.”
“You know her?” the guy asked, his eyes widening in shock.
“Yes, I see her twice a week at the dance recitals.” He watched Kendrick process the words and then immediately retreat. No more borderline flirtatious looks and interested questions. Granny Kendrick probably didn’t know that Michael liked men. Sad that the guy hid his true self from his family.
Kendrick finally seemed to remember his date and started asking Lia all the usual questions. He was polite but distant and his eyes kept roaming around the room and lingering on a few of the other men in the restaurant. Lia smiled, her expression artificially bright, as she put on a first-date show for the guy. Not seeming to notice that the guy, while friendly and polite, seemed not even the slightest bit interested in her. But Sam could tell she was nervous and that his presence made her uncomfortable and abruptly felt like a shit for putting her in that position.
He should have backed off, let them have their dinner, and had a private conversation with her about Kendrick later. As a friend.
Mason and Daisy were making small talk with Lia and Kendrick while Sam, a headache developing, sat silently and observed.
Lia didn’t know how, but somehow the awkward evening managed to pass pleasantly enough. Something in Brand had changed during his intense exchange with Michael, because he had been quiet for most of the evening after that, only answering questions when he was addressed directly. He kept rubbing his forehead and his eyes were narrowed against the light, and she wondered if he were in pain. She verged on asking him more than once but always thought the better of it and continued to keep her focus on her date.
Michael was nice. She had found his exchange with Brand a bit odd and had felt completely excluded from their conversation, but she soon became the man’s main focus.
She liked him, but she wasn’t attracted to him. And truthfully, he didn’t seem all that interested in her. He spent a lot of time talking to Mason, who looked uncomfortable but kept the conversation pleasant. Oh well, at least Michael wasn’t boring like Gregory.
Lia and Michael were stiltedly discussing their mutual interest in ikebana when Daisy loudly proclaimed that she was going to the ladies’ room and then gave Lia a pointed look.
“Uh. Me too?” Daisy nodded and Lia placed her napkin on the table before excusing herself. She followed Daisy into the unisex restroom and watched as her sister checked all the stalls before turning to glare at her.
“What’s up, Daisy?”
“Seriously, Lia? Seriously? ”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, Mikey’s a nice guy, I’ve always liked him, but even back in school he never seemed all that into girls. I always thought he was just shy. But he’s cute, there were opportunities but he never seemed to take them. And tonight, I finally understand why. He’s spent more time chatting with Mason and full-on flirting with Sam, than he has with you.”
“What? Are you saying he’s not into women?”
“I don’t know. I just feel that you deserve more than a guy who doesn’t seem to even notice you as a sexual being.”
“It’s a first date and it’s awkward with all of you there. Things aren’t progressing the way a normal first date would.”
“He hasn’t even looked at your boobs! Not once!”
“He’s a gentleman. And this top isn’t exactly meant to tempt a man’s eyes in that direction.” She was wearing a high-collared blouse with a soft, flowing skirt tonight. Not unattractive, but not exactly designed to set a man on fire with lust.
“Please, no man is that much of a gentleman. If your boobs aren’t tempting, why have Brand’s eyes not strayed from them most of the evening?”
“They haven’t?” Naturally she had been aware of his gaze all evening, but she had been too busy not looking at Brand to know where his eyes were focused.
“Oh, there may have been a slight break between dinner and dessert, but they’ve constantly wandered to your boobs throughout the night.”
“Michael’s not gay.”
“Maybe not, maybe he likes girls, too, but the man’s tongue nearly fell out when he saw Brand. Now call me crazy, but I think your date should be reacting that way to you, not to one of your dinner companions. Look, I don’t want you to get your hopes up about this guy only to be disappointed, okay?”
Lia nodded miserably as she considered her conversation with Michael tonight. He’d been very nice and very friendly, but also distant and polite. Not exactly showing an interest in her at all.
Even if Daisy was wrong and he wasn’t interested in Brand, he definitely wasn’t into Lia, and, honestly, she wasn’t into him, either. Her shoulders fell, and Daisy hugged her.
“I’m sorry, Lia,” she said, genuinely contrite. “I was hoping you’d clue in before I had to spell it out for you.”
“That’s okay. I’ve been having no luck dating at all.”
“Well, if all else fails, at least you know Brand thinks your boobies are riveting,” Daisy teased, and Lia fought back a blush.
“Shut up,” she mumbled, too scared to say much more than that for fear of alerting her sister to the fact that Brand was most likely staring at her breasts because he knew how they looked naked.
“Brand’s a nice enough guy, but such a player. Mason once told me that he’s a prick—’
scuse the French—with women.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, a real love-’em-and-leave-’em type. Once he moves on, which is usually after just a few weeks, he deletes all pictures, contact details, and correspondence from them off his phone and computer. He erases them from his life, as if they never existed. Never mentions them again.”
“Is that so?” Lia asked faintly, wondering if Sam had erased her number yet.
“Yes.” Daisy turned to check her makeup and met Lia’s eyes in the mirror. “But the weird thing is the women are aware of his terms, and for the most part they’re happy enough to move on afterward. There have been a few who went a bit stalkery, though, wouldn’t accept that he meant it when he told them it was over.”
“What did he do?” Lia asked breathlessly.
“Mason says restraining orders and stern lectures from the police usually did the trick.”
How humiliating for those women.
“We should probably head back,” Lia said, feeling a bit queasy after the reveal about Michael and the information about Brand.
Dinner ended soon after the women returned to the table. Lia kept her interaction with Michael light and friendly. They argued amicably over the bill until she charmingly relented and allowed him to cover their portion of the meal.
“I’ll chat with you tomorrow, Daisy,” Lia promised, giving her sister a hug and a kiss. She followed that up with a hug for Mason.
“Good night, Brand,” she said curtly, still not meeting his eyes.
“I’ll be seeing you, Lia. Take care, Kendrick.”
Michael barely looked at Brand, just nodded, before he politely escorted Lia out of the restaurant and to her car.
“I had a nice evening,” he said, his voice neutral.
“Me too,” she said, wrapping her cardigan around her to ward off the chill in the air.
“Maybe we can do it again sometime?” he suggested when they reached her car.
“Maybe.” He nodded at her response. Both silently acknowledging that there would be no future interaction between them.
“Good night, Michael.”
The Wrong Man (Alpha Men Book 3) Page 22
