Ready to Wed (Entangled Select)
Page 20
Padma. Of course. My mental state was obviously in a bad place if I’d failed to recognize her voice the second I heard it. “Don’t worry,” I said in my soothing, let’s-take-things-down-a-few-color-levels voice. “I’ll have you a new DJ, with the music you want, by the end of the day.”
…
When I got home, Brendan and Cupid were playing fetch in the house. They both froze in place as I stepped inside. Then Cupid brought me his slobbery squeaky ball, which I guess was his way of saying he still chose me when it came down to it. Despite the drool, I appreciated it. I took the ball from his mouth and tossed it down the hall. He bounded after it, tongue hanging out, nails clicking against the floor.
Brendan took one look at me and opened his arms wide. “Bring it in.”
With a sigh, I closed the distance between us and let him envelop me in a hug. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a good DJ who plays Hindi music?”
“Can’t say that I do. But I have a feeling the sad face is about more than trying to find a DJ.”
Was it really that obvious? Guess that was what happened when you let everyone see inside your life—actually, I knew it was more about Brendan being able to read me so easily, which was comforting, but not enough for me to suddenly be okay with everything. “I feel so vulnerable and naked. I don’t like it.”
Brendan dragged his nose down my cheek. “Naked sounds nice.”
“I’m not the good kind of naked right now.” I shook my head and closed my eyes, sinking further into his embrace.
Cupid came over, dancing around with his ball in his mouth, but when neither of us moved for it, he gave up and headed into the kitchen.
“I read it,” Brendan said. “It was good.”
I winced. “I don’t know. I thought I’d be happy to have my version out there. But right now I feel like hiding from the world and never going out again.” Nothing in the column was a news flash for Brendan—after all, he’d seen the pain firsthand. Knowing he’d read every word was both nice because he was being supportive and nerve-racking because I’d reminded him of that broken side of me, something I was still working to be okay with. “I thought I’d gotten over it—and I have for the most part—but putting it out there and knowing people are reading it has brought back all those icky emotions.”
“Give yourself a break. It’d be strange if you felt nothing.” He ran his fingertips down my arm. “It was obvious you put your heart and soul into that column. It was brave and hopeful, and people will relate to that.”
I tipped up my head and peered into the dark brown depths of his eyes. “Thanks, but I still don’t like it. It was supposed to be empowering and I just feel like a mess. At least I’m not crying all the time, the way I was in my office that first day you came to see me.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe you didn’t run—you probably should’ve. It’s not too late, although with our living situation, it’s gonna be trickier, so that’s your bad.” The joke didn’t come out quite as light as I’d been going for.
Brendan gently cupped my chin. “Do you really not get it? That first day I walked into your office, I knew I was a goner. I thought it’d be fun to see you again, but when you lifted your beautiful face, black smudged across your cheek, I forgot my own name. As we were talking, I told myself to calm down—that you were D.J., my childhood friend. But from that moment on, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
The anxiety squeezing my chest eased, a happy flutter taking its place. “You made a pretty big impression, too. I kept telling myself to stop thinking about how hot you were. And then you were so easy to talk to, and having our friendship back made all the crappy stuff not so crappy anymore…” I leaned into him again, taking a moment to soak in his familiar cologne and his warm skin next to mine. “Without you, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through these past few months.” I twisted my head and placed my lips against his cheek. “You know I’m a little bit crazy about you, right?”
The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Just a little bit?”
He was obviously joking, but a sharp jab of apprehension shot through me. I thought about how Dad had pointed out my tendency to fall in love so quickly. It was true. I wanted to be tough, and I played it cool, but inside I was always crushed when a guy didn’t call later, or when a relationship ended.
Brendan was not only the guy I was falling hard for; he’d also become my best friend all over again. This was a different kind of falling. It was jumping out of an airplane without checking to see if I’d gotten a parachute, and if it didn’t open, I’d be splat on the ground, no chance of recovery.
“So did that help?” Brendan asked, pulling back to look at me. “Are you out of Code Pink now?”
“Code Fuchsia,” I automatically corrected, but I was thinking that I was in Code Fuchsia trouble with him.
Brendan pulled me toward the couch. “Maybe we can get it to Purple Passion…” He sat and tugged me down so I was straddling him. His hands slid up my thighs, and my worries, as well as every other thought in my head, went hazy. He drew me closer, until nothing but our quickened breaths separated our lips, not an inch of space between our bodies.
He dipped his head and ran his lips across my collarbone, sending the room spinning. I arched back, rocking my hips at the same time, eliciting a groan from him. The next thing I knew I was on my back on the couch, his body pinning me with his delicious weight. Then his tongue and limbs tangled with mine, a blur of kisses and fingertips grazing skin. I tugged his shirt up and let my fingers drift over the taut muscles of his abdomen. I pulled my legs up on either side of him, my skirt inching high enough to expose most of my legs, which Brendan took advantage of, his hands skimming my thighs.
This was it. Maybe I was falling, and it was a little scary and a little fast, but I couldn’t wait anymore. Figuring out everything else could wait.
Brendan’s phone rang, vibrating against my hip bone, and he swore under his breath. He lifted himself onto his hands, his arms locked, and took a few heaving breaths as the phone continued to ring.
“It’s the ringtone I have for Mr. Maddox. I’m so sorry, but I need to get it.” As he reached for his phone, I was pretty sure he muttered, “Looks like I’ll be dealing with the color blue tonight.”
I covered my mouth to hide a smile, because it wasn’t really funny. I was all hot and bothered, too, the imprint of his hands on me a torturous and pleasant memory, all at the same time.
“They’re back?” Brendan asked, running a hand through his hair. “No, I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up and let out a sharp exhale. “We’ve got these clients who need extra security, and they’ve taken a liking to me. Which is good, only they want to have access 24-7. They’re going to be here all week.” His eyes met mine, and a flush of heat traveled across my skin. “I had plans to take you out tonight.”
I hooked my finger through one of his belt loops. “I had a feeling we were on our way to staying in.”
Brendan groaned. “You’re so not helping.” He dragged his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’d say you should come stay at the hotel with me, but you’re too distracting, and I might kill someone if they interrupted us. Can’t you be a little less sexy?”
I wrinkled my nose and stuck out my tongue, giving him my best total-weirdo look that’d surely send even sex addicts running for the hills.
“Nice try, but it’s still far too cute.” He leaned in, his lips close to my ear. “Later, you and I are going to finish what we started.” The combination of his words and his breath against my neck sent a pleasant chill down my spine. He kissed the sensitive spot under my ear and straightened. “And stop worrying about your column, okay? It was a good one.”
Warmth filled my chest, different from the heat still pumping through my veins. One more kiss and Brendan headed to his room. He came out a few minutes later in a black button-down and a shiny black tie, looking every bit the security guy those very important people wante
d. If it meant getting him full time, I’d be tempted to hire him as my personal security guard, too. I probably couldn’t pay what they did, though.
Not with money anyway.
Okay, dirty thoughts are not making this better. Brendan paused at the door and I blew him a kiss. Yep, I was a goner. As soon as the door was closed, Cupid came wandering back into the room.
I reached over and petted my trusty companion. “I think I’m in trouble, Cupid. Did you shoot me with your arrows?”
Cupid gave me an appropriately confused look, considering I was talking to a dog about arrows. “I think I’m already in love with him,” I said, though there wasn’t really any thinking involved.
The problem was, Brendan always made this face whenever the words “marriage” or “wedding” were mentioned. Which was kind of often, considering my job. I couldn’t help flashing back to the conversation about his girlfriend who’d been obsessed with it, and how he’d made it clear he wasn’t really into the idea. It wasn’t like I was ready for anything like that—it terrified me now, actually. I just wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to be falling so hard for someone who wasn’t interested in it at all.
Chapter Twenty-Two
At the end of anger management, right before Ron signed off on the course, he’d challenged us to try to befriend someone who’d wronged us. He warned us it wouldn’t be easy, and if we felt violent urges, we’d need to remove ourselves from the situation. Apparently if I got to know Phoebe, I’d be less likely to attribute malicious intent or my problems to her.
Color me doubtful, but I’d made an action item on my to-do list to attempt a decent conversation, and on my way to talk to Tess, I figured I might as well start the process. So when I neared her desk, I propped up the corners of my mouth in a smile and said, “Hi, Phoebe.”
Her eyes widened as she spun her chair around. She scrambled for her phone and held it up like a weapon. “What do you want?”
When she’d acted like she was scared of me all those weeks ago, I’d thought she was putting on a show, but she did appear to be frightened by me now. I couldn’t help get a pinch of satisfaction over that, although it wasn’t exactly helpful on the befriending front. “I was simply saying hi. How’re the Vegas social circles? Spy any cool people lately?”
She lowered her phone a fraction of an inch. “You’ll have to read my column to see.”
“Can’t wait.”
She eyed me like she didn’t trust the niceness, and I forced my lips to lift even further. There’d be no hair braiding, but there wouldn’t be any hair pulling, either—not that I did the catfight thing. I’d spent far too many years hanging out with boys. But Phoebe looked like a hair puller. I figured maybe even this goodwill attempt would keep my name out of her column.
A couple waves and nods to the rest of the people working away at their desks, and then I continued to Tess’s office. I knocked on her open door to announce myself. “Ready for our meeting?”
“Yes, yes. Close the door and have a seat.” Tess held up a large manila envelope, so full the sides were bulging. “Do you know what this is?”
“No idea.”
“It’s letters to the editor.”
“People still write letters?”
“Some do. I get a lot of emails, too. But these”—she tossed the envelope across the desk—“are responses from your column. I printed out the emails and put them in there, too. I thought you should see what people are saying.”
I pinched the corner and lifted it like it might bite me. “I’m not sure I wanna know.”
“Trust me, you do. There were only a couple of mean ones, and I didn’t include them,” Tess said.
How reassuring.
Tess picked up a pen and tapped it against her desk. “You struck a nerve. People relate to breakups, to hurting. To trying to pick themselves back up. I knew it’d be popular, but even I underestimated the response—we got hits from all over the country.”
All over the country? Whoa.
Come to think of it, things had been busier at the Ready to Wed office lately, with lots of referrals calling in. “Thanks for pushing me to do it.” I still wasn’t 100 percent sure I’d enjoyed opening up, but it had been cathartic, even with the “feeling naked and exposed” freak-out. Plus, it was helping me open up with Brendan. Thanks to the VIP clients he’d been doing security for all week, phone conversations and the one dinner we’d snuck in at Terra, the restaurant in Aces, were our only interactions. The clients were set to go home on Saturday, though. I just had to get through the Jones/Taylor wedding and then Brendan and I would both have our entire Sunday free to spend together. I was pretty sure I knew how we were going to spend it, too, and I was counting down the hours.
I hugged the envelope to my chest, thinking I’d read all the letters tonight, Cupid by my side, a cheesy romance movie on in the background. It was scheduled in and everything. Originally I thought I’d cry and feel sorry for myself through romance movies from here on out, but now that my faith in love was restored, I was ready to watch fictional people fall in love. As long as the M word wasn’t involved, because I was spending way too much time stressing over it, regardless of telling myself to knock it off.
“I look forward to your next column,” Tess said. “You can keep it fun and light most of the time, but remember the impact of a well-placed one that goes a little deeper. You’re practically famous around these parts, after all.”
I laughed at that, but thanked her anyway.
I was steps away from the bright afternoon sunshine when Phoebe cut me off. “I hear you’re dating one of the security personnel from the new Aces Casino now. Apparently he’s Mr. Maddox’s right-hand man, too?”
My gaze homed in on her iPhone, held at the ready, no doubt recording this. I’d tried to be nice, and now she was taking advantage of that so she could get dirt for her column. Dang Ron and his challenge.
“I decline to comment on my personal life, Phoebe.”
“Guess I’ll just have to dig the old-fashioned way, then. Wonder what I’ll find? What people will say about you two?”
No one knew much about our relationship. I supposed Jillian, my dad, and the people Brendan worked with were the most informed, but they wouldn’t talk about it. Then again, I didn’t exactly want Phoebe tailing us in some pathetic attempt to get a scoop that wasn’t there.
“You know what’s really unfair?” Phoebe asked, and I raised my eyebrows, too scared to ask what, but not wanting to break up the nice-fest if it was actually happening. “I thought you’d finally be taken down a notch.”
Guess I don’t need to break out the nice-fest balloons after all.
Phoebe shook her head. “But you just move on like nothing happened. Find another guy like that.” She snapped her fingers. I wanted to tell her it involved being nice to people, but then actual tears filled her eyes. “You think I like covering everyone else’s relationships? That I don’t want one of my own? Do you know how hard it is?”
Well, this conversation skipped all the other colors and went right to WTF Fuchsia. Usually people ramped up to it. I’d never seen a flip quite like this before, but if there was anything I was equipped to deal with, it was a breakdown over love.
This would be the point I hugged my brides, but I thought Phoebe might slap a sexual harassment lawsuit on me or something if I attempted it, so I lightly patted her shoulder. “I know tons of guys who’d love to go out with you.” If she attended any wedding, pretty much anywhere, groomsmen would be on her like white on the rice tossed at the departing couple. “You go to the hottest clubs in the city. Everyone knows who you are. You’re successful.”
“Not as successful as you,” she shot back, then punctuated it with a sniff and chin quiver.
Really? Not just an ounce of niceness while I’m trying to console you?
“Which is probably why Grant chose you,” she added.
Now the conversation was seriously giving me whiplash. “Grant? What does this h
ave to do with him?”
“He and I dated. I thought things were going well, and then he just stopped returning my calls. Next thing I know, he’s with you. When I confronted him in person, he told me that it hadn’t even been an official relationship, and I needed to move on. He even offered to set me up on a pity date, like I couldn’t get my own. So yeah, you win. At work and at love. Congratulations.”
For a moment I could only stare. I didn’t want to think about Phoebe and Grant, or the fact that he’d clearly kept that from me on purpose, but at least she’d made it pretty clear it’d been before he and I got together. Whenever I used to talk about her, I thought he’d just flinched because he knew I was going to go on a rant. I briefly wondered if it would’ve been easier to dump him right away if I’d known, but then I thought it was better that pettiness or who he’d dated in the past weren’t responsible for our parting. It was about knowing he wasn’t right for me, and the fact that he hadn’t been completely honest with me about more than just finding out he might have a son proved it.
Next order of business: figure out what to say to the now-crying Phoebe. Apparently she wasn’t made of stone. “Look, love’s not a competition. Even at work, it’s not like you and I are opponents. There’s no reason to compete with me—you can have it.”
“I don’t want to just have it. I want to win it.” She narrowed her eyes and I saw a flash of her usual self. She looked away for a few seconds and when she turned back, her sad, woe-is-me look was back. It didn’t seem false, but more like she didn’t know how to wield it. “You know how well liked I am? My ride didn’t even show to pick me up like she promised. My car’s in the shop, and not only is she thirty minutes late, she won’t even answer my calls.” Phoebe stared for several seconds out the glass door I was dying to walk through, then looked at me. My muscles automatically tensed, bracing for her next comment. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I would appreciate it if you could give me a ride home.”