Fall for Him

by J.C. Valentine

  Eleven

  I almost hate to say it, but it wasn’t the worst lunch date I’ve ever had. In fact, it ranked right up there as one of the best, with the first being the very first time I ever went out with Brody and Annie together at DJ’s.

  I love the way Ransom and Darren work off each other. They’re like old friends. Or lovers. I can’t tell which. Darren is clearly smitten with Ransom, despite having a boyfriend waiting for him at home. And Ransom is doing nothing to dispel that attraction. I think he’s enjoying the attention. Every now and then over our meal, he would pass me this smug smile, almost as though saying Ha! And to think you doubted me. Except, I never really did.

  Ransom is hot. Any person, male or female, would have to be crazy not to do a double take when he walks into a room. It’s the same effect that Rebel has on me and, by default, Ransom has on me, too. The only problem is that he’s not Rebel. His brother is the one who caught my heart first, and that’s the only path I choose to entertain. I’m not interested in stringing two men along. The only person who will be graced with that honor is Rebel, and if I have it my way, he’ll wish he’d snipped that string a long time ago.

  “Definitely bring that darling man along next time,” Darren tells me as we set off for the lobby doors.

  It’s the end of the work day, and I am exhausted. Still, he manages to bring a smile to my face. I love how his face lights up when he gets excited about something. And he is definitely excited about Ransom.

  “You know he’s straight, right?”

  “Honey, I couldn’t miss it. The only person he had eyes for at that table was you, but a man can dream. And dream I shall,” he swears with aplomb. “I cannot believe he has a twin brother. I had no idea there was more than one Scott man lurking about this city,” Darren continues on. “It should be a crime to be so fine.”

  I nod in agreement. That’s the same thing I thought once I got past the initial shock.

  “Mmm,” Darren hums. “That ass...I keep getting flashbacks of it. I’m telling you, girl, you hit the mega load when you tapped that particular gene pool. And you got both of them? Good God, I’d beat you senseless on principle alone if I didn’t love your face so much.”

  “Okay,” I say, laughing. “Enough already. You think they’re hot. I get it.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that you do, girly,” he protests. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be complaining about being pursued by two gorgeous men. Do you know how many women, and men, fantasize about being with brothers?”

  Stopping at the edge of the curb, Darren and I raise our hands at the same time to flag down a taxi.

  “It’s way too much work,” I tell him. “You might think it’s a dream come true, but I’ve been there and done that, and it’s way too much drama to be dealing with. Trust me, one Scott is enough to give any sane person a lifetime of grief.” And heartache, I mentally add.

  “Uh huh,” Darren says, slanting a disbelieving look at me. “Since you’re clearly living in the land of denial, I’ll refrain from reminding you of how many people in this city alone would gladly take on what you call problems.”

  “You don’t know what I’ve had to deal with, Darren. It goes far beyond great sex.”

  “So the sex is great?” His brows waggle a little, causing me to start laughing all over again.

  “Your chariot awaits,” I tell him, pointing to the cab that just pulled up to the curb.

  “You’re not taking this one?”

  “I’ll get the next one,” I assure him. I’m in the mood for a soft-serve ice cream anyway, and there just happens to be a shop down the block that serves a mean homemade mint chocolate chip.

  “I almost don’t feel right about it, but that’s probably just the chivalrous man inside of me dying to break out. I’ll stomp him back down with a nice red wine when I get home. I’ll catch you tomorrow then. Be careful. Don’t talk to strangers,” Darren says with a playful wink as he climbs into the backseat.

  Still laughing to myself, I wait until his cab is absorbed by the traffic before setting off for my treat. Before I can step a foot off the curb, however, a black car with tinted windows rolls into the empty spot alongside me.

  Rolling my eyes, I take a step back and fold my arms over my chest. “If you think I’m going to take another ride with you,” I say to Gerardo, “then you’ve got another thing coming.”

  The passenger side window slides down and Gerardo leans over the seat, meeting my eyes. “That won’t be an issue, Miss Hart. Mr. Scott has instructed me to follow you if you refuse the ride.”

  He’s got to be kidding me. Glancing around, I briefly wonder where Rebel is. He can’t be far, but I haven’t seen him at all today, which is unusual. I guess if he can’t be here himself, then he has to send his minion to do his bidding.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I call his bluff. “That’s called stalking, you know. I could have you arrested.”

  He smirks back at me. “I raised that concern with Mr. Scott, and he’s assured me that won’t be a problem either. So, which will it be, ma’am? Walking or riding today?”

  Glaring at him now, I release a growl of frustration because I don’t doubt for a second that what he says is true. Rebel probably has friends all over the police force capable of erasing charges for the right price. That should scare me, but it doesn’t. He may push his weight around and be a total jackass most days, but I don’t fear him. I know he’s just looking out for me in his own weird and overbearing way.

  “Well,” I say with a mock sigh of pity. “I hope you don’t have to be anywhere pressing this afternoon.” I start walking, laughing to myself when I see Gerardo coasting along at a two-and-a-half-mile clip from the corner of my eye. I’m trying not to pay attention to him, which is damn near impossible considering the line of traffic that’s building up behind him with their angry horns blazing.

  Glancing back, I catch his eye through the windshield and almost feel bad. But then I don’t, reminding myself that it’s not my problem if he chooses to follow some asinine directives from his bigheaded employer.

  Gerardo parks and waits while I stand in line to order my ice cream. It’s a lovely sunny day with a slight breeze, but it’s a tad warmer than I’d like. Just enough to cause a light sheen of perspiration to dampen my hairline. The ice cream will definitely cool things down a bit.

  When I get to the front of the line and place my order, I make sure to get a second cone for Gerardo just to be nice. Okay, so it’s also a kind of in-your-face to Rebel because I’m sure he’s never bought any of his employees an ice cream cone before. A wicked smile falls into place as I think about how amazing and sweet and utterly nice I’ll appear in comparison.

  Gerardo looks surprised when I walk up to the passenger window and lean down to pass him the cone. “What’s this?”

  “It’s too nice of a day not to enjoy. I hope you like double fudge brownie.”

  He accepts the cone with a touch of a smile, which is good enough for me. Satisfied that I’ve earned brownie points—no pun intended—I head off toward home with Gerardo following close behind.

  I actually don’t intend to walk the whole way. A mile is much too far to walk in heels. Taking my time, I finish my ice cream and wipe my hands on a napkin, then toss it in a nearby trash bin before turning my attention to the steady stream of traffic passing by. Rebel’s car is right there, waiting for me, but I raise my arm anyway and hail a cab instead.

  There’s no reason not to make him work for it.

  Stepping off the curb, I open the door and pause to give a quick wave to Gerardo. Through the tinted glass, I see him smirk slightly and shake his head. When the cab pulls away, he follows—not that I expected anything less—and he doesn’t leave until I’ve safely entered my apartment.

  ***

  “Well, if it isn’t the royal pain in my ass in the flesh.”

  I look up to find Rebel looming over me with a darkly sexy smirk on his face. He’s dressed virtually the same way today as e
very day with the only variation being the color of his tie—a vibrant cobalt blue. The subtle effect is mouthwatering.

  “How did you know I was here?” Darren had to leave early for a doctor’s appointment, so I decided to treat myself to lunch at a cute little open-air restaurant that serves fresh fish and sushi platters. Of course, I got both.

  Rebel lifts a brow as if to ask really?

  “Right,” I say sarcastically, snapping my fingers. “You have connections. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Pulling out the chair opposite mine, Rebel eyes my spread of food and selects a California roll before answering. “You’ve been dodging me at work, you refuse my invitations, and now you’re giving my driver the brush-off. Apparently the only way to pin you down is the old-fashioned way.” He waggles his dark brows suggestively, his mouth splitting into a wide grin before he pops the sushi inside.

  I watch, momentarily transfixed by the way his mouth moves as he chews. Rebel is the kind of man that can make anything sexy. Just looking at his lips makes me want to feel them on my body.

  “See something you like, pussycat?” he asks in a slow, raspy drawl that instantly sets my insides on fire. Good lord, that voice. It’s pure sex and sin, and it gets me every time.

  Squeezing my knees together, I divert my gaze and lower my face to hide the blush creeping into my cheeks. Shifting in my seat, I begin picking at a roll, hoping it will distract me from the desire pumping through my veins long enough to form a coherent sentence. I choose a topic that’s sure to kill the heat instantly. “Why aren’t you off doing business things or something? Won’t Florence be upset if she finds out that you’re here with me?”

  Reaching for another roll, Rebel shrugs his shoulder when I cast him an annoyed look—he’s eating my lunch! Shamelessly selecting another roll, he tells me in an unaffected tone, “You seem to have a fixation on the nature of my relationship with Florence. Why is that?”

  Oh please, as if he doesn’t already know. Incensed that he would even consider playing dumb with me when I clearly know what’s going on, I slap my hand on the table, to which he only leans casually back in his chair to look at me. While he continues eating all my food.

  “You know what I find really irritating about you, Rebel? That you pretend that I’m some naïve school girl who you can pull the wool over.” My temperature rises as he just sits there, staring coolly back at me...and eating more of my food. Moving the plate closer to me, I place both palms flat on the table and give him a look daring him to touch it again.

  Rebel assesses the situation before giving me a slight tilt of his head, telling me to continue. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me spell this out for you.” Sighing deeply, I say, “Florence, Rebel. Don’t you think she would take issue with you being here? Shouldn’t you be having lunch with your girlfriend right now?”

  “Well, considering my girlfriend is sitting directly across from me right now, I’d certainly hope not.”

  “Me?” I screech, jabbing my finger into my own chest. “You’re calling me your girlfriend?”

  “Well, isn’t that what you call the woman you fuck and feed regularly?”

  Heads turn, and I feel my cheeks blaze under the weight of all those eyes. “Jesus, Rebel,” I breathe, lifting my hand to block my face.

  “I’m afraid he and I are nothing alike, pussycat. Try God, Rebel instead.” He smirks, and as much as I don’t want to, I’m forced to fight back the smile that wants to spring forth. Sighing, Rebel straightens in his seat, releases the button on his suit jacket and slips out of it, revealing a black vest that buttons down the middle and accentuates his broad frame.

  Holy crap, I didn’t think he could get anymore mouthwatering than he already is, but clearly I forgot how well the man could rock a suit. He looks as though he just stepped off a magazine cover, and all he’s doing is sitting here eating sushi like a normal, everyday person.

  “I may like to give you a hard time,” Rebel says slowly and with a dark edge to his voice. “But don’t mistake that for ignorance. I know exactly what you’re trying to get at, and I thought I made myself perfectly clear on where I stand, but apparently, you need a reminder. So, let’s get one thing straight right here and now.” He jabs his finger into the table to emphasize his point and, to be honest, Serious Rebel is kind of scary.

  “There is no Florence in this scenario. The only relationship I’m entertaining is the one that involves you, and frankly, I’m beginning to wonder the wisdom in that decision.”

  I don’t know why, but for some reason, that admission tears at my heart strings. I have to stuff my hands under the table to keep from reaching out to him.

  “So, wherever or why ever you keep getting this idea in your head that places us together in any capacity other than work related is beyond me. But I. Want. It. To. Stop. So, if there’s anything you need to tell me, now is the time. Whatever it is, let’s deal with it now because I won’t deal with it later. Do you understand?”

  I stare into the depths of Rebel’s midnight eyes. There was a time when I thought they were shark-like—dark, soulless pits a person could get lost in. I could still get lost in them, but not in the same way. Now, I see the touches of hurt, distrust, confusion, and hope that swirl around in them like a tempest. Because that’s what Rebel is. He’s a storm that’s constantly brewing, and it just so happens that I’m the kind of girl who likes standing in the rain.

  Swallowing tightly, I summon the courage to say what I have to say. I don’t know why I’ve been avoiding it for so long, except to guess that I was afraid to hear his answer. But it’s now or never. I’m tired of torturing myself. It’s time to get it all out in the open.

  “I saw the pictures,” I tell him, my voice low. “I don’t know if you intended to send them or if it was by accident, but I saw them.”

  “What pictures? What are you talking about?” Rebel asks, his brows drawn down tight over his piercing eyes.

  Huffing, I break eye contact so he won’t see the humiliation in mine. “You and Florence...together.”

  “Together how?” he asks, his voice equally low and filled with suspicion.

  Rolling my eyes, I find myself laughing even though none of this is even remotely funny. “In varying stages of undress. I’m sure you can figure out my meaning. I sent one to you, along with a snapshot of my middle finger,” I add, in case he needs help jogging his memory.

  There is this perfect moment of quiet that occurs that reminds me of the eye of a storm when everything goes still, but there’s nothing calm about this moment. I can feel the pressure building between us, and I know that Rebel is seriously pissed. I just don’t know why.

  Leaning over the table, Rebel zeros in on me, his intense gaze holding mine so tight I hold my breath, waiting for what he’ll say next. “Josephine, I’ve never taken pictures with her. Ever. Not when we were together for that miniscule amount of time, not at events. I’m talking never. And I know nothing about any photos you sent me because I lost my phone and had to get a new one.” To prove it, he reaches into his pants pocket and holds up a shiny black iPhone that is nothing like the sleek, silver phone I spotted him with before.

  My heart begins to thunder in my chest as it picks up its pace, and I read the truth in his eyes. This isn’t right. I know what I saw...Or do I?

  Even my own mother can’t tell us apart most of the time, and she’s known us our whole lives. I hear Ransom’s words in my head, rewriting everything I thought I knew.

  “When did you lose your phone?” I croak, dread washing over me.

  “I left it behind before we left for Maine. It was missing when I returned. Do you still have the pictures?” Rebel asks. “Are they in your phone?”

  “I deleted them,” I tell him, feeling like I’m stuck in a daze. None of this feels real. I can’t really feel anything right now, actually. What if someone tampered with his phone?

  “Dammit,” Rebel curses under his breath. Reaching across the table,
he grabs hold of my chin and jerks my head up, forcing me to look at him. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me and giving me a hard time? Did you actually think I would do something so grotesque as to send you dirty photos of me with another woman?”

  I stare back at him, unsure how to answer. The simple response would be yes, I did think that. But Rebel is on edge, and it’s clear that I’ve made a mistake. I’m beginning to wonder if that was the intention behind the whole thing to begin with. Is someone trying to keep me and Rebel apart?

  If so, they’re doing a damn good job of it.

  “Rebel, you don’t think...” I toy with the name forming on my lips, wondering if I should finish my sentence, but it turns out that I don’t have to.

  Releasing me, Rebel draws back and blows out a hefty sigh. “Do I think that this could have been Ransom? Yeah, could be. I can’t think of anyone else with a stronger motive.” Raking his fingers through his hair, Rebel curses a few more times. “He’s always been after what I have. Always been a jealous little shit, but I thought he’d gotten over that after...” He trails off, lost in thought.

  “After what?” I ask, intrigued.

  Rebel blinks, and then looks up at me, his eyes glazed over as if he’s forgotten I’m here. “Nothing. Forget it. Look,” he says, reaching for his jacket and retrieving his wallet from the inner breast pocket. “We should get back to the office. I have a lot of work to do and stuff to sort out.”

  Frowning, I stand up and reluctantly follow him out. The last place I want to be is back in the office pretending to try to work when now all I can think about is...this. All the time lost, the hurt feelings, the doubt and wasted anger. I feel like calling up Ransom right now and laying into him, putting an end to this bullshit. How dare he? How. Dare. He.

  As we step out onto the sidewalk, Rebel takes my arm and pulls me to a stop. The intensity in his eyes makes me tremble inside. “It was my brother who sent you the flower, wasn’t it?”