Diversions

by Leanne Davis

  But she didn’t deserve the talking-to he’d given her. But he didn’t need or want her pity. Which is what she was giving him.

  Oh well. It was over. Done. Back to his life. A life that he was reclaiming after the damage his life had sustained over the last two years.

  The most shocking part of the story which, obviously, yet surprisingly, Christine didn’t know about.

  ****

  There was a knock on his door just after he got home. He sighed in annoyance. He wasn’t fit for company. He walked to the door and jerked it open. He blinked in surprise. Christine?

  “What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

  “Can I come in? The rain is starting again.” She didn’t wait for a response, just ducked under his arm and into his place. He stared at the empty doorstep then let out a sigh as he shut the door.

  “What are you doing here?” he repeated.

  Her back was to him. She was scanning his small apartment, looking through the square kitchen into the living room, which contained an old TV Bill had given him and a sad couch and matching chair. There wasn’t much to look at.

  She turned towards him, already slipping her arms from her coat. She handed the wet garment to him. He frowned at her but she didn’t seem to notice his annoyance at being handed her stuff. He threw it on a kitchen chair.

  “I shouldn’t have come to you out of nowhere and acted as if you needed me to fix your life. You were right. I was wrong.”

  He didn’t expect the apology. He probably didn’t deserve it after how he’d reacted. “Does entitlement come with the name?”

  She stiffened. He’d meant it to be insulting. She surprised him by smiling. She had a dimple on her left cheek. “I came off that way, didn’t I? I’m sorry. And no, being an Andrews doesn’t justify acting like a jerk.”

  Why didn’t she get mad? He was trying hard to piss her off. He didn’t want her here. He didn’t want to be noticing her dimple, or the crazy ringlets that fell over her shoulders. He didn’t like that he had the urge to twirl one of the thick curls around his finger. That was a stupid, lame, wussy reaction to a woman. It was okay to want ogle her, check out her small ass or pert tits, but to wonder what her hair felt like was just weird. It was... well, hell, it was a stupid reaction to have to a woman. And a woman whom he hardly knew, a woman engaged to his brother of all people.

  Except no woman presented herself quite as Christine did. She had a confidence, a sureness of who she was in the world that was somehow sexier than any stilettos or short skirt. She carried herself with a straight spine, despite her overall petite frame; she came off as if she knew all and could handle everything. She was well-spoken, opinionated, and had no problem sharing that with anyone. She wasn’t like any woman in her twenties he’d ever met. Then again, how many just graduated, rich heiresses did he know? Exactly one.

  And she was engaged to his brother. Not a fact he could easily overlook or forget.

  “You had to come here to apologize?”

  “Yes. I owed you. I wanted to clear the air.”

  “You didn’t have to bother. We’re never seeing each other again.”

  A look passed over her face. What was it? “I’d like to.”

  Honest too. He’d never known a woman less into games or innuendos. “You’d like to see me again? Why?”

  “Dinner. Just meet me and Trent for dinner. If it goes bad, I promise you, I’ll never see you again, if that’s what you want.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “And if that’s not what I want?”

  She stepped back. “What do you mean? What do you want, then?”

  He stared at her, the lift of his eyebrows making his intent clear. She pressed her lips together and dropped her gaze. Maybe that would do the trick of getting her to leave him the hell alone. No way did she want to deal with him leering at her. Which he was. And he hoped it scared her out of here for good. The last thing he needed in his already screwed-up life was his brother’s ridiculously rich, entitled, pretty, and unfortunately seemingly nice and honest fiancée bothering him.

  She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She wasn’t good at playing dumb. He leveled her with a knowing look. “You know exactly what I mean. I already told you.”

  “You don’t really want...” Her voice trailed off. She shuffled her feet. Finally he had her squirming. Finally her confidence was shaken.

  “You? Why not? You’re rich, you’re hot, and you’re my brother’s. Have you missed the point I’ve tried to make clear to you about how I feel about my brother? I would love nothing more than to take you from him. Screw up his engagement, literally. Do you still want us three to meet for dinner?”

  Her mouth opened. No sound came out. Her blush started under her neck and rose up to her cheeks. He held her gaze. He smiled. She finally got it.

  Then she shook her head. “I don’t believe you. You’re trying to get me to leave you alone. You think this will scare me away.”

  How could she not believe him? She didn’t know him; she didn’t know if this was beneath him or not, and she shouldn’t think it was. He sagged against the counter. “Why wouldn’t you believe me?”

  She seemed to gather her confidence back. She stiffened her spine and smiled. “Because I know who and what I am. And someone who inspires uncontrollable lust in someone like you is not who I am.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “It’s not an insult. Someone meaning... You’re not unattractive, I’m sure you have girls falling over you constantly. But those girls aren’t like me, because the type of girl I am doesn’t fall over anyone. And I just don’t see that as your type.”

  He bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Someone ‘not unattractive’?”

  “Yes. You have a mirror. You know what you look like.”

  She wasn’t his type. But…he couldn’t shake the strange pull towards her. It was new for him. And because she was engaged to Trent, he needed her to leave him alone. “Do you think I’m hot?”

  She glanced away. “I think you know what you are. Now, will you stop it? And will you meet me tomorrow night?”

  “I’ll meet you. But I won’t meet Trent.”

  She groaned. “But he’s the entire point of the meeting.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s my point.”

  She let out a breath. “Okay. Dinner. You and me. Will you listen to what I have to say about Trent?”

  “If that’s important to you. Just a warning though, you’re wasting your time.”

  She nodded. “Fine. It’s my time to waste. Meet me at The Mill? Seven o’clock?”

  The Mill. Fancy. On her rich-ass dime no doubt.

  “Fine. Seven.”

  She turned on her heel, grabbed her coat, and left.

  ****

  Christine watched as Trent took a long sip of water. She made herself watch his neck. But watching him drink was, well…weird. She had to look away. Why, then, had she watched Jason as if he were her favorite dessert? It made no sense.

  Trent nodded towards her drink. “You want another?”

  She kept glancing discretely towards the restaurant’s entrance. Still no sign of Jason. He should be here any moment. Her stomach was in knots. He was going to be pissed that she’d tricked him. And so was Trent. One conversation. That’s all she wanted them to do, was have one conversation with each other, without their father or Peggy’s input and antagonism ruining it. Have one conversation as adults and see where they got.

  And it would only work if Jason showed up. And showed up without the attitude. Which was highly unlikely. Imagine, acting as if he wanted her. If he really did, he wouldn’t have told her he wanted to screw Trent over by using her. If he really wanted that, or intended to do that, he’d go about it without announcing it to her.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  She glanced up at Trent. What was he talking about? “What?”

  “You didn’t answer about the d
rink. Are you still mad about the Jason Malone issue?”

  “Issue? You have a brother! You never told me about him. I just can’t believe you paid him to pretend he’s not.”

  Trent shook his head. “I didn’t pay him to do anything. My father did. But he was running for mayor. What if Jason came out then, and said who he was? It would have ruined the election. This solved it. Kept Jason quiet. He needed the money, so he won too. He signed it. It was a good deal for all.”

  “Deal? We’re talking about your brother. Another human being.”

  “No. We’re not. That’s why I never mentioned him to you. It wasn’t me keeping a secret. It was that Jason doesn’t matter to me, not even a little. So what is there to tell? I wouldn’t hide the confidentiality agreement because I agreed with it; there is no shame in it. You and I started dating over two years ago; I have only spoken with Jason a handful of times since then. There was nothing to mention. I can’t tell you how little I think of him.”

  “I don’t like it. Or that you could do it. And neither will my father.”

  Trent sat up. “Your father. Why would you tell your father? This has nothing to do with him.”

  “Except he considers your dad one of his best friends and he’s never heard about the forgotten son.”

  “Come on, you don’t need to tell him. He has nothing to do with this. Honestly, I never thought about it from your point of view. I guess maybe what we did was wrong. I am starting to understand why this upset you. I’m sorry, honey, really. Please just don’t tell your father. Besides, Jason is trouble. His mother was a drug addict. So is he.”

  Drug addict? Was Trent for real? “How do you know if you’re not around him?”

  Trent opened his mouth and then sighed. “I guess I don’t. But I did know.”

  “My father would have serious issue with this. As do I.”

  “I know. I know. I see that now. Please, believe me, I never considered it from your point of view. I have to face your dad every day. It’s awkward enough dating his daughter, don’t add this.”

  She smirked. Her father had been furious when he’d figured out she was sleeping with his assistant. He’d only come to accept them after Trent asked her to marry him. It was like only then he could finally believe that Trent was going to do “right” by her. The problem was since her father had so embraced Trent and her as a couple, he’d gone the complete opposite end of the spectrum. He could not wait for them to get married.

  “I’ll think about it. I don’t like keeping secrets. And I especially don’t like being put in the position where I have to.”

  Trent visibly let out a breath. “I know, baby, I know. I love that about you. I just didn’t think this was as big a deal as it is. I want to make it up to you.”

  “Then meet Jason. Talk to him without your father or mother there. With an open mind. Jason’s not to blame. Your father is. I don’t get how that isn’t perfectly clear to you.”

  “It was a mistake from nearly twenty-seven years ago. Why should he have to keep paying for it?”

  “Because it resulted in another human being!”

  How can this be so hard for Trent to grasp? She pressed her palm to the pain in her neck. How could the man she was marrying not care about blackmailing a man who had never done anything to him?

  And even if Jason was a drug addict, it had no bearing on Terry’s failure to father or support him. But the fact that Jason was so forthright about his mother led her to believe he was not, in fact, a drug addict. Or the loser Trent’s tone suggested he was. Given the lack of resources, parenting, love, and care he’d dealt with, it was a wonder Jason was as stable as he seemed.

  Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She looked again and saw a blur of dark hair. Jason. It had to be. She glanced at Trent. He was staring at her. Jason had spotted Trent and was leaving without a word, obviously mad about what she’d done. She got up suddenly. Trent glanced up, eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well. I’ll be right back.”

  She rushed off towards the restaurant’s entrance and the restrooms. Let Trent think she was so turned off by his attitude that she was literally sick. She quickly hedged around the crowd waiting for tables until she was out the front door. She scanned the parking lot until she found his truck. He was three steps away from it.

  Like déjà vu, she was running after him across a parking lot. “Jason!” she yelled across the half-dozen cars between them. He turned at her call. He noticed her. He stopped. He clutched his keys in a tight fist. She slowed to a quick walk in her low heels. Her jeans now had mud splatters along the hem. She reached him and stopped a foot away. He scowled at her. His eyebrows lowered, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. God, he was furious.

  “Have a nice life. I’ve seen enough of it.”

  He had seen her with Trent’s hand clasped around hers as he tried to convince her not to tell her father about Jason Malone.

  “I know you’re mad, but please, come in and meet Trent. Meet your brother, without the payoff, without his parents poisoning his mind.”

  “Did he agree to meet with me?”

  She didn’t answer. He shook his head. “You didn’t tell him either, did you? What did you think would happen? We’d clasp hands? Hug? Have some kind of joyful reunion?”

  “I thought you could sit at the same table and have a conversation. As I have with you. As I do with Trent. You could do it. But it will take one of you manning up. My God, you two are like five-year-old children, jealous at the arrival of a new sibling.”

  “You get that he had everything, don’t you? I had shit. I would love to mess with Trent or Terry if I could. What about that don’t you understand?”

  She bit her lip. Shit. This was not going well. He was pissed at her, and now there was no way he’d approach Trent with any kind of an open mind.

  “I get what Terry did to you. It was completely wrong how he treated you. But Trent goes along, as would you if roles were reversed, because he’s simply doing what his parents have taught him. The adult thing here is to not follow along with common stereotypes and hate each other based on your father’s behavior. Why not, instead, have a simple conversation?”

  “No. We won’t do that. Ever. And what don’t you get that I’ll use you against him? Give me the chance, and I will. So stay the hell away from me.”

  “You can’t use me. I wouldn’t let you.”

  “You want to bet?”

  She stiffened her spine. “There is no way I’d let you use me.”

  He stepped closer to her so fast, so abruptly, she didn’t have time to react. He put his arms around her, pulled her to him, and lifted her up closer until her lips met his. She jerked back at the contact of his lips. He moved his hand to the base of her skull where he held her still as he opened his mouth over hers. His tongue entered her mouth, thick and hot. She didn’t expect it. Any of it. At the touch of his tongue to hers her entire body became like melted butter against him.

  He’s using you. He’s proving his point. She knew it down to her toes, but she didn’t stop him. She didn’t care. As suddenly as his tongue was in her mouth, he slowed the kiss, changed the kiss, softened his hold on her neck and gentled his lips. They caressed hers, over the top lip, the bottom, his silky tongue stroking, petting her in soft licks. She groaned. His hand moved from her arm to her waist, as he pulled her closer, against him.

  Holy crap. This was a kiss. A kiss she’d never expected. Or felt before. It was her entire body, suddenly all involved, all turned on. It was incredible, life changing, and wrong. So wrong, far more wrong than the wrong she’d been trying to fix.

  She was in a parking lot. Standing in middle of a restaurant parking lot, in the spotty shadows from overhead streetlamps and flashing headlights. Her fiancé was a hundred feet away inside, and here she was, draped against another man. His brother. A brother who had warned her to stay away from him and to leave him alone. She had been warned. But she wouldn’t
listen.

  Or stop kissing him.

  He pulled his mouth away from hers. His body surrounded hers. His shoulders blocked her view and she had to tip her head far back in order to meet his mouth.

  “Come home with me.”

  The words were soft, his voice low, hoarse. He could not be faking. He had to be as affected as she was. That kiss had been too much, too real to not be.

  “I can’t. No.” She pushed back from him. What was she doing? Kissing him? Standing in his embrace? Why hadn’t she slapped him in indignation? Why not stomp on his foot and knee him in the groin? No. Instead she had kissed him back, leaned into him, and put her arms around him. She had let him and encouraged him.

  He pushed her away. “Then you have no reason to ever contact me again. You want to fuck, call me. Otherwise, go back to your fiancé.”

  He turned, opened his truck door, slammed it, and started the truck. She stared opened-mouthed. She closed her mouth, turned around, and ran back to her fiancé waiting inside for her. She brushed at her eyes, which burned with unshed tears.

  He’d done it all to humiliate her. To prove a point. He didn’t even want to kiss her. And then she’d reacted as if she had never been kissed before.

  She slowed down, ducked into the bathroom, and tried to calm her wild hair and pink cheeks. She looked like she’d been up to something. Maybe she could pass it off as the flu and get Trent to take her home early. The knot in her stomach could be considered stomach cramps, so she wasn’t totally lying to him.

  Even though she was lying to him and she knew what that made her, especially after all the crap she’d given him about being honest about Jason Malone. She was one to talk, wasn’t she?

  ****

  She pulled her car in front of the twenty thousand square foot beamed brick-and-glass mansion that was her parents’ home. Before her was a fifteen-foot fountain with bright lights shining rainbow colors over the pond. She stepped out of her car, past the twelve-foot double-entry doors and onto the brick sidewalk that bypassed the main house and led to her private quarters. She stepped into her suite and let out a long breath.

  She threw her purse onto the flawless tight bedspread and then flopped down on it. Lord, she hated living here. Years away from the ridiculous opulence that was her parents’ lives was a long time and she’d enjoyed it. And now here she was, right back to the stifling life she had, for so long, escaped.