by Reese Ryan
Still, she managed to pull it together and get through an hour of dinner conversation. Civilly. Without staring at his strong biceps or focusing on the rise and fall of his well-defined pecs as he laughed.
Okay, that last part had been a monumental failure. He caught her checking him out more than once.
No wonder he felt compelled to outline exactly where things stood between them. He wasn’t interested in starting a relationship. A statement that was in direct opposition to the starry-eyed schoolgirl fantasy she couldn’t seem to let go of.
His words made her want to crawl under a chair and hide.
He’d seen straight through her ruse, much as he had the night they first met. She’d walked into that club determined to be witty, flirtatious and cosmopolitan. All the things she wasn’t. She’d been able to maintain the illusion most of the night. Until she met Wes. He was charming and funny, and he’d made her so comfortable she’d dropped the pretense and slipped back into her own skin, like a comfy pair of pj’s. The facade quickly faded away, as did her illusions of being satisfied with something temporary and meaningless. She’d wanted more.
That night, for the first time in a long time, she’d been hopeful she could have it.
She’d been wrong.
Maybe she was just as wrong to think she could work with Wes and not be affected by his smile. His charm. His incredible body.
Bree shut her eyes and tried not to think of it. Or the way his hard muscles felt beneath her fingertips, both times she ended up in his arms tonight.
Stretching her legs, she reached for the remote and turned on the television.
Focus on the plan, not the man. She silently repeated the words her high-school volleyball coach would recite to her when she got too caught up with the opponent on the other side of the net.
Don’t be fooled by his good looks and charm. Wesley Adams is the enemy.
A frenemy, at the very least. She’d dealt with plenty of those in her career. Had even partnered up with a couple.
Bree closed her eyes and visualized herself facing off against Wes on the volleyball court. As long as she held onto that image, she’d be good. In control of her thoughts and emotions. Her body’s response.
Everything will be fine. She headed back down to the kitchen, repeating the words to herself.
She could do this. But first she needed a bottle of wine. No glass required.
CHAPTER 5
Wes slipped into the passenger seat of Liam’s BMW a few minutes before ten and mumbled his greeting. Despite the comfortable mattress and room-darkening curtains, he would’ve gotten just as much sleep had he slept on a slab of cold concrete below a bustling railroad bridge. At five in the morning he gave up the pointless battle and went for a run on the beach. But his lack of sleep was catching up to him.
“You’re all sunshine and roses this morning, I see.” Liam grinned as he turned out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Why do I feel there’s a story involving Bree behind your obvious lack of sleep.”
True. Though not in the way his friend was imagining. He’d lain awake last night, his words to Bree and her reaction to them replaying in his head on an endless loop. That was twice he tried to do the right thing where Brianna was concerned, only to have it blow up in his face. A vivid reminder of why he avoided serious relationships. He had a special gift for messing them up. It was a trait he’d gotten from his old man.
When he hadn’t been thinking of Bree, he’d been worried about his mother. When sleep finally came, he dreamed of Bree’s soft, warm, shapely curves stretching those poor yoga pants to their limit. A shiver ran down his spine now thinking of them.
Still, there was no way he’d give his friend the satisfaction of thinking he was right. Sliding his shades down the bridge of his nose, he peered at Liam. “So you admit that inviting Brianna and I both to work on this project was a harebrained attempt at matchmaking?”
“I’ll admit nothing of the sort.” His friend’s voice was insistent, though the edges of his mouth quirked into an involuntary smirk. He cleared his throat and straightened his expression. “You and Bree are the best people for this project. If something more becomes of it—”
“It won’t.”
“Fine.” Liam kept his eyes on the road ahead, another grin sliding across his mouth. “Though some might say the man doth protest too much.”
“Save the Shakespeare bullshit. I’m serious.” Wes sighed, softening his voice as he ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I know you see love and happy endings everywhere you look, now that you and Maya are about to get married. But I’m fine with things the way they are.”
“I used to think that, too.” His friend sported a self-satisfied grin. As if he was in possession of all of the universe’s answers about love. If Wes wasn’t so damn happy for the guy, he’d slap him on the back of his head, Three Stooges-style, and tell him to get a grip.
“I’m not just saying it.” Wes stretched his long legs out and leaned into the headrest, his arms folded over his abdomen. “Not everyone is in search of love. Or even believes it exists.” He muttered the last part under his breath and closed his eyes.
Liam chuckled. “I used to think that, too.”
* * *
Wes brushed crumbs from his navy slacks and pushed the sleeves of his heather gray sweater up his forearms. Though it was mid-February, it was nearly seventy degrees. They had breakfast at the club before hitting the golf course. Despite Liam’s reminder to bring his clubs, Wes left them back in London, hoping they’d skip the links. But Liam was two steps ahead of him. He’d purchased himself a new set of clubs and loaned Wes his old ones.
Now, he stood at the seventh green trying to line up his shot and cut in to the lead Liam was quickly building. Wes widened his stance, squared his shoulders, drew the nine-iron back above his shoulders and swung hard. He stood back and watched the ball’s ascent.
Liam chuckled as the ball sailed, beautifully, but headed for the pond. It landed with an unceremonious plop, water shooting in the air. A handful of birds flapped their wings in protest to the intrusion. “Impatient as ever, I see. I’ve told you a million times, you can’t rush the shot. Gotta let it come to you. It’s a lesson that works in love, too, my friend.”
Wes cursed under his breath at the wicked angle the ball took, then groaned at Liam’s brotherly advice. “Is that why we’re here today? For Liam Westbrook’s lessons in love?”
Liam laughed. “I don’t plan to lecture you, if that’s what you mean. But what kind of mate would I be if I didn’t state the obvious?”
“That I’m being a general ass where Bree’s concerned?” No point in beating around the bush.
“I’d have put it a bit more delicately.” Liam held back a grin as he climbed behind the wheel of the golf cart. Neither of them were the kind of guys who relished sitting in the passenger seat. But the agreement was the winner of their last round drove the next time. It was a sucker bet. Liam was a far better player. Still, his pride wouldn’t allow him to concede or stop believing he’d win next time. So here he was riding shotgun again.
“Bree’s a great girl, Liam. You know I think the world of her. But I’m not interested in a relationship. A policy we once shared.” He gave his friend a side eye, trying to rein in the green-eyed monster that gave him mixed emotions about his friend’s engagement. He was happy for Liam. They were best friends. Had been since they were thirteen years old.
They trusted each other with their lives. Told each other the truth, whether they wanted to hear it or not. And if they couldn’t tell each other the truth, they’d both learned to avoid the subject altogether.
Like he’d been trying to do now. Not that his friend was picking up on the hint.
“Come on. You act like I betrayed the bro code or something.” Liam pulled alongsid
e the tree and parked in the vicinity of where the ball had crossed over into the water hazard.
Liam was right. He was acting like an overgrown child whose best friend had become friends with the kid next door.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, you once understood that philosophy. Lived by it faithfully. You were the one person I could count on to never give me grief about it being time for me to settle down.” Wes shrugged. “I miss that luxury.”
“Never thought of that.” Liam folded his arms over the steering wheel. His expression was apologetic.
After a few moments of silence between them, he continued. “Back when I shared your philosophy on relationships, I truly believed we were the smartest guys around. But when I fell for Maya I discovered the truth about myself. I wasn’t being brave all those years, I was afraid of being hurt again. Too cowardly to take the risk.”
Wes climbed out of the cart with his club in hand and dropped his ball. Liam’s revelation didn’t come as a surprise. He remembered how devastated his friend had been when he discovered his off-and-on girlfriend, Meredith, had fallen for his brother, Hunter. Still, it was unsettling to hear Liam admit it.
Wes turned his back to Liam and concentrated on the game. He took his time and drove the ball again. This time it landed closer to the hole than his friend’s had. He slid his club back in the bag and hopped inside the cart.
“Well played, mate.” Liam’s raised eyebrows knitted together, despite his compliment.
Wes laughed. “Look, I appreciate your concern. I do. And you know I couldn’t be happier for you. Maya and the girls are amazing. You’re a lucky guy. So I get that you want to see me happy, too. But you’re assuming I’m not. That my life is somehow incomplete.”
Liam didn’t respond. His silence said more than his words ever could.
Wes couldn’t argue. He was content with his life the way it was, but he couldn’t deny that there were nights when his bed felt cold and empty. Even on nights on the town, in a room brimming with people, he occasionally felt alone. But he’d been content to ignore those moments. To fill the empty space with a warm body or a night of laughter. “I’m focused on growing Adams Promotions and making the Pleasure Cove volleyball tournament a success. Don’t have time for distractions. Got it?”
After a long pause, Liam nodded. “All right. Now, you were going to tell me why you looked so awful yesterday. What’s going on? You sure as hell didn’t look content then.”
Wes lowered his eyes, his jaw clenching painfully. “It’s my mom. She’s sick.”
Liam parked the cart and turned his body in the seat toward him. “Maya, the girls, and I had lunch with your mum a couple of months ago. She seemed fine.”
“She’s done her best to hide it.” He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “She was diagnosed with Parkinson’s six months ago.”
“Did you know before you went to visit her?” His friend could understand the anger and frustration he felt. Liam’s father hadn’t told him about his battle with prostate cancer until he was already through his treatments and in remission.
Wes shook his head and shifted in his seat to alleviate the hole that burned in his gut whenever the inevitable thoughts of what was ahead for his mother came to mind. Increased difficulty with balance and movements. Not to mention the involuntary movements that were side effects of the most common medication given for Parkinson’s. If the disease continued to progress at its current rate, she would require constant care in a few years. “She didn’t want me to worry. Or to feel obligated to return to America. And she didn’t want Drake to give up his career.”
Liam squeezed his shoulder, forcing Wes to meet his gaze. His friend’s knowing smile eased the suffocating pain in his chest. “Sounds like Ms. Lena. She’s strong-willed and independent. And she loves you and your brother more than anything in the world.”
“But not enough to tell us about her diagnosis.” The reality of those words struck him hard. His mother had always been stubborn and determined. She’d made incredible sacrifices to give him and his brother the best life possible, regardless of the cost to her. Yet, now that she needed him, she wouldn’t ask for his help. She didn’t want to impose on his life. Had he made her feel that way? That she was a bother to him? Wes slumped in his seat, his gaze lowered again. He sure as hell wouldn’t be winning any son-of-the-year awards.
Liam patted his friend on the back, then eased his foot onto the gas pedal, setting the cart in motion. “You know how protective your mother is of you two. Like you said, she didn’t want you to worry. Besides, not telling you was probably also her way of retaining her dignity and independence. An illness like that forces us to face our own mortality. Even if it’s only for a moment. It was hard for my dad. Must be pretty hard for your mum, too.”
Mortality.
That word sent a chill down his spine that settled into his gut, twisting it. His mother had given him everything she possibly could. All he’d done was bring her grief. Her marriage ended because of him, and so did her dream career. It killed him that even now she was making sacrifices. She’d already done so much for them. They could never repay her, but he’d do whatever it took to try. Even if that meant moving back to North Carolina.
“Does Drake know?”
“We called him the same day I found out.”
“I know how tough this must be for you and Drake. Anything you or your mum need…just say the word.”
His friend’s words dragged him out of his daze. Wes sat taller in his seat and nodded.
“You’ve already helped. If you hadn’t invited me onto this project…” He shuddered inwardly, wondering how long his mother would’ve kept the diagnosis to herself. “I appreciate the opportunity and the generous housing offer while we work on the project. I’d only intended to stay for the weeks of our planned meetings, but things have changed. Despite what she thinks, my mother needs me.”
“Will you move here permanently?” Liam couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice, though he made a valiant effort.
A grin turned up one corner of Wesley’s mouth. It was comforting that his best friend was eager to have him move closer. They’d been separated by an ocean most of the past five years. “I’m not ready to sell my flat in London, but I’m escalating my timeline to expand my business here in the US.”
“Let me know how I can help.”
“Actually, I do need one more favor.” Wes hated asking his friend for special treatment. This was a business deal, and he always treated them as such. But regardless of whom he was working with, he had to act in his mother’s best interest. As she’d always done for him. “I need to miss our next meeting. I’m returning to London to set the wheels in motion. Unless some emergency happens with my mother, I don’t anticipate missing another.”
“I understand. Of course. We’ll get you the meeting notes and bring you up to speed. Communicate via email until you return.”
Wes breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Does that mean you’re willing to overlook my meddling in your love life?” The smile returned to Liam’s face, easing the tension they were both feeling.
Wes laughed and shook his head. “You know, after that first meeting, I’d planned to turn down the project. Bree was mad as hell about me leaving her hanging. I didn’t think it was possible for us to work together.”
Lines spanned Liam’s forehead as he parked the cart. “And now?”
Wes stepped out of the cart and grabbed his putter. He shrugged. “Now I need to make this work. Seems she does, too. We’ve called a truce. She apologized for how she reacted after the meeting. I apologized for being an ass back then. I even invited her over for dinner last night.”
Liam hopped out of the cart, grabbed his putter and followed his friend onto the green. A huge grin spread across his fa
ce. “And after dinner?”
“I grilled steaks. We chatted. Everything was going well until…” Wes rubbed his neck and sighed.
“Until?” Liam raised an eyebrow.
“I wanted Bree to understand why things didn’t work out between us. That it was because of me. Not because of anything she did or didn’t do.”
“Wait, you gave her the bloody it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech?” Liam scrubbed his hand down his face and shook his head. “Aww, bloody hell. What were you thinking?”
“She looked so hurt about what happened between us. I couldn’t stand seeing that wounded look on her face. I had to do something to fix things between us.”
“And did it?”
Wes blew out a breath, exasperated with himself. “She bolted out of the door like her hair was on fire and I was holding a can of gasoline.”
Liam rubbed his forehead and took a deep breath. “Okay, so dinner didn’t go so well. Next time…”
“There isn’t going to be a next time.” Wes turned to face his friend, needing him to understand how serious he was about this. “Bree and I came to an understanding. We both need this project, and we want it to be the absolute best it can be. But there isn’t going to be a romance, maybe not even a friendship. Just a good, productive working relationship. We’re both okay with that. I need you to be, too.” Wes pointed a finger at his friend.
Liam snapped his mouth closed and lowered his gaze. He grunted, shoving one hand into his pocket. He gripped his club and assumed his stance. “If that’s what you want, fine. I won’t interfere.”
Liam’s agreement was hardly convincing, but he would respect his wishes. He was sure of it. Liam struck the ball and they watched it roll, landing within a few feet of the seventh hole.
It was his turn.
