by Lila Kane
I can’t think with her hands all over me, her mouth on mine. I catch her wrists. “Brianna. Talk to me.”
“I’m in this with you. I am. But I need to make it clear to Chet where I’m at now,” she says, voice getting stronger with each word.
“You’re with me,” I murmur.
She nods. “And Chet needs to know that. I’ll talk with him tonight, and then that’s it. He’ll be out of our lives and we can move on.”
For her sake, I keep my face neutral. She doesn’t need to know that I doubt Chet will be out of our lives. Or that he’s already made more trouble than she knows about. He hadn’t just talked to the reporter—he’d talked to many reporters. He’s trying to break up me and Brianna. He’s fucking with her life more than she knows, and this—tonight—is just another way to get back into her life.
“I don’t like you going there with him alone. I’ll send two men with you, and—”
“Will you come?” she asks.
I stop, surprised. She wants me there? This is a gesture of trust and of unity I didn’t expect. She wasn’t lying when she said we’re in this together.
“Of course,” I say. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
She leans in to kiss me again. “Thank you.”
19
My stomach churns with nerves. I don’t like the idea of taking to Chet any more than Michael does, but I need this last step to be able to move on. And hopefully Chet will move on, too, and let me live my life.
When the car pulls to the curb, I stare at the building as memories crash down on me. Chet and I used to come here all the time. Once upon a time, we were happy.
“You don’t have to do this,” Michael says softly from next to me.
“I need to.”
“You’re worried.”
I flash him a smile. “No, I’m fine.”
“You’re squeezing my hand. Tight.”
I blink, then release the death grip I have on his hand, realizing my knuckles are white. “Sorry. I’m sorry—you’re right. I’m worried. But only because I hate confrontation. And I’m still angry with Chet for what he did. And—”
“Let me talk to him, then.”
“No. It should be me.” I look up at him apologetically. “And I think I should do it alone.”
“What?”
“I mean, if you’d stay here or—”
“I’m coming in. No way in hell I’m leaving you alone in there with Chet. Who knows what he’ll try?”
“Michael—”
“No. We’re not negotiating this. He already put his hands on you. He already caused problems between us. This is not up for discussion.”
I bite my lip, trying to understand where he’s coming from. He’s just trying to take care of me, but it’s the first time anyone has done so. I’m not used to someone having my back. I’m even less used to someone wanting to help. And that’s what Michael wants.
“Can you wait at the bar, maybe?” I ask, taking his hand again. “Give us some space to talk first so that maybe we can resolve this reasonably.”
Amusement flickers across his face before it goes hard again. “You don’t think I can handle this reasonably.”
“I’d like to try first if that’s okay.”
He nods, reaching for the door handle. “We’ll try that first. But we’re bringing them with us.”
He gestures to the two bodyguards who stand just outside the door. My stomach twists. Hell, what do they think? That it’s going to get violent?
Chet has a temper, sure, but don’t we all at some points? He’d never hurt me, though. Not physically.
“Let’s go.” Michael grabs my hand and helps me out of the car.
The pizza place is busy since it’s the weekend. I’m grateful for the noise, the energy, the people. Witnesses, so nothing can get too far out of hand. But I don’t like being here. The same place Chet and I used to come all the time. It was our place.
Kind of like the dive bar on the corner is my place with Michael. We all have our things that remind us of other people, of times we’ve shared with them, and the pizza place reminds me specifically of Chet.
And it hurts. Right in my heart.
“You okay?” Michael asks, feeling my tension.
I swallow. “I’m fine. I just want to get this done.”
I spot Chet at a table near the restrooms in back, and point to the bar. “I see him. Wait right here. Please. Hopefully this won’t take too long.”
Michael’s jaw clenches but he doesn’t argue. He swivels to the bar and finds a place to sit where he’ll have a good view of the table Chet and I sit at.
When I approach, Chet stands and smiles, though his eyes stray to the bar, and then the door in front. “You didn’t have to bring reinforcements. It wasn’t necessary.”
“I don’t want to cause a scene,” I say calmly. “Let’s just sit down and talk. That’s what you wanted, right? Five minutes.”
“I was hoping you’d stay longer.”
My stomach clenches harder. Of course. This isn’t just a quick chat for Chet. He wants something more. And I start to remember all the times in the past that this has happened. A little more money so he could go out, a little more time to pay his part of the rent, a little more understanding when he missed my birthday or didn’t show up for a social function.
In hindsight, Chet was an ass.
We both sit. Chet already has a drink in front of him. I stick with water. I don’t want to have anything inhibiting me when I settle this with him, and really, there shouldn’t be enough time for a drink anyway.
This is an easy conversation. Chet and I are over.
“I made a mistake,” Chet says.
“What do you mean?”
“With us. I didn’t really want it to be over—I was just confused. Pressured. I mean, you wanted this whole life—to get married, to have kids—and I was scrambling to keep up.”
Even though my heartbeat picks up speed, I keep my voice even. “Are you seriously trying to blame this on me? You cheated on me, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“No.” He straightens and sips his drink before answering. “No, I mean, it’s not your fault. I’m just trying to get you to see my side.”
“Okay, so you were scared. You felt pressured. So your solution was to cheat, then send me a text that it was over, and pack up your shit and leave when I wasn’t even home. Do you know how badly that hurt?”
My voice rises on the last words. I spot Michael out of the corner of my eye. He starts to stand from the bar, sensing something is off. I shake my head and wave him back down. No way. I am handling this, and I have things I need to say to Chet.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Chet says. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Anything would have better than that, but mostly just acting like a decent human being would have been best. You should have talked to me.”
“I know. I should have, and I regret that. I want to start over, I want to make this right. We were good together,” Chet says.
“It was an unhealthy relationship.”
“That’s not—” He frowns and tries a different tactic. “So we’ll make it better. I want to settle down with you. We can move to a nice small house, have some kids, run a business together.”
My business. He means my business. Because as far as I know, he doesn’t have any aspirations of his own. I don’t even know if he has a job anymore.
“We’re not good for each other,” I say, all the fight gone. Chet is pathetic. And sure, maybe one day I’ll be able to wish him luck with his next relationship or whatever he’s doing in life, but right now, I just want to be done with him.
“And he’s good for you?” Chet asks, pointing to Michael. “You don’t even know the guy and you’re engaged?”
He eyes the ring on my finger, but doesn’t say anything else. It’s significantly larger than the one I got for our engagement, and I’m sure Chet’s aware who bought it for me.
“It took you—what? Ten seconds to find someone else? Come on Brianna, that isn’t you. It takes you time to get to know someone, and you’re not like him. That isn’t your world.”
“Maybe you know less about me than you thought.”
“I know everything about you,” Chet says, his voice lowering. His eyes lock on mine. “Remember all those talks we used to have on the rooftop? Remember what we were going to name our kids?”
My heart clutches. Those were good talks. And we had a plan. A future. Despite what had happened, I’d truly loved Chet.
“I know about your family,” Chet continues. “I know how important family is to you because of that. How much does he know about everything?”
Nothing. My mind betrays me. Chet’s right. Michael knows nothing about me. But isn’t that what we’re trying to change by starting over?
“I thought so,” Chet says.
He reaches out and touches my hand. “Come on. Come home with me.”
I pull back, and then stand when I see Michael move from the bar. He walks this way before I can stop him. I have to fix this—no, we have to get out of here before things get worse.
“We’re leaving,” Michael says, stepping to my side.
“She doesn’t want to go with you,” Chet says. He glances at me. “We have things we need to talk about. We have a future. A wedding. Kids. And you two barely know each other. Give it up.”
Michael’s jaw clenches. I grip his arm to stop him from going after Chet. “Stop it. We’re finished, Chet.”
His eyes simmer with anger, mostly directed at Michael. “He can’t commit—he’s going to leave you, too. Don’t make another mistake, Brianna.”
Chet always did know the perfect thing to say to hurt me. I lift my chin, and even though my voice wobbles, I say, “Fuck you,” before turning for the exit.
I walk straight out into the warm evening, my cheeks on fire, my heart racing.
“Miss Stevens,” one of the guards says. He takes my elbow gently and guides me to the car. “Here you go.”
I get inside, fighting off tears, feeling worse than before I talked to Chet. Moments later, Michael gets into the back seat with me and instructs the driver to take us home.
I feel empty and tired. When Michael’s arm comes around me, I lean into him, needing the comfort.
“He’s an idiot and he’s wrong,” Michael says. “He knows nothing about us.”
I nod, though I’m struggling to get on board.
“You believe me, don’t you?” Michael tips my chin up to see my face. “I’m not like Chet. I know we have this…arrangement, but I’d never treat you like he did. Ever.”
My heart mends together just slightly. I believe him. For whatever reason, and even though we really don’t know each other all that well, I believe him. “I know.”
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“Is everything dealt with between you guys?”
“As much as it can be.”
He pauses a long moment before he finally asks, “Do you want to be with him again?”
I hear the vulnerability in his voice and I can relate. I’ve been there before, just wanting the assurance that someone loves me. That someone wants me.
“No.” I lift my lips to kiss his jaw. “I want to be with you.”
I don’t miss the soft breath he releases or the way his arm curls tighter around me. But we’re both silent as we ride the rest of the way home.
20
A vacation. That’s what we both need to get our minds off of real life—and Chet’s words. He’d hit on some sore spots, that asshole. Like saying I couldn’t commit. Like mentioning how he wanted to have kids with Brianna.
I hadn’t even thought about kids. But aren’t we supposed to know these things about each other? Maybe not at first because this is an arrangement. But now…this has gone beyond an arrangement. We’re in a relationship and there are things—important things—she doesn’t know about me.
Damn Chet and his meddling.
Once we arrive in Aspen, however, I forget all about Chet and my own worries. Brianna is like a child, her eyes wide as she takes everything in.
“I’ve never seen mountains like this before,” she says. “There’s snow!”
I wait while she looks at the Rocky Mountains and everything else in sight. The trees, the sky, the chipmunks on the side of the road. Her eyes are wide, and a moment of tenderness hits me hard. I want to be in Brianna’s life, and I’m lucky she’s mine.
Knowing that, I want more. I need more. I don’t know Brianna the way I want to, and it’s time to fix that.
She turns to me, tucking her hands into her sleeves. “Have you been here before?”
“More than once. My family has a place up here.”
“Really? Wait.” She narrows her eyes at me. “That’s not where we’re going, is it? I thought you won this place in the auction—”
“I did.” I pull her against me, unable to stop touching her. This. This is what we need. Just us together. The whole weekend. “This is the Beckett place. They’ve been thinking of selling and I’ve been looking into buying. It gives me a good chance to check things out.”
“Ah. I see.”
She lifts her chin so I can kiss her, and I oblige immediately. Her lips are soft and warm, even though the rest of her is cold. I wrap my arms around her as she shivers, and all I can think is how I want to get her to the cabin and by a fire.
Naked.
My cock hardens, pressing against her hip. Her breath eases out. “I think…I think we should get to the cabin.”
“Just what I was thinking.”
By the time we reach the Beckett place, however, Brianna is distracted again with the mountains and the forest. And when we pull up to the cabin, her breath catches.
“This is not a cabin,” she says, staring out the window.
I stop in the driveway. She’s out of the car before I can say anything.
I’ve seen the place before. It’s bigger than our cabin, though not quite as new. They’ve done a ton of work on it, though, and it’s cozy. Well-designed. And the views are amazing.
“It’s a cabin. That’s what they’re all called up here,” I tell her, going for the back of the car to grab our luggage.
“It’s a mansion! A rustic one, I’ll give you that, but this place…” Her voice trails off.
I glance around the car to find she’s vanished. “Brianna?”
I leave the car and walk to the side of the house. She stands there staring at the wrap-around porch. “Have you seen this? The porch? And the view?”
“It’s even better from the back. Why don’t you go take a look?”
I don’t have to tell her twice. She walks around the back of the house while I grab a few bags and bring them inside. There’s a vase of fresh flowers on the table just inside the door and a note from Mrs. Beckett.
We’ve stocked the refrigerator and Rosie will be out to check on you each morning. She already mentioned she’d love to cook for you one night. Please help yourself to anything in the wine cellar.
--Bonnie Beckett
She left the code for the security alarm and a few other names and numbers in case we run into any problems. It’s early fall and the weather is cooling but I doubt we’ll have any issues with the weather.
I hear the front door open and quiet footsteps walk to join me in the kitchen. When I look up, Brianna’s smiling. The happiest I’ve seen her.
It seems like she’s dropped a lot of the stress she had from earlier this week as well, and it feels good that I’ve been able to give her this time away.
Brianna’s happiness is my responsibility now, and I’m taking it seriously. Much to the amusement of my family. Even Liv has called and told me I’m doing a good job. And that I need to keep it up. And then she threatened me not to ruin it so she can have a sister-i
n-law.
Damn, my family is falling for Brianna as much as I am. If I weren’t so caught up in the feeling, I’d realize how dangerous it is.
“This place is amazing,” Brianna says, walking to me and putting her arms around me.
I turn to her and lift her chin for a kiss. It’s meant to be a light peck, but when her body melts against mine, I can’t keep the kiss light. Or simple. It turns into a flash of heat, our tongues tangling and hands running all over each other.
“God, I want you,” I say, voice husky, backing her against the counter.
She slides her hands under my shirt, turning me on even more. “What about the rest of our luggage?”
“Really,” I murmur, my lips on her ear, “you’re thinking about luggage? I must not be doing my job then…”
I hike her up and set her on the counter, my dick jerking at her gasp.
“No,” she says, breathless. “You’re doing your job just fine.”
“Not sure yet…”
I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it off, tossing it aside. I let my eyes feast on the curves of her breasts. They rise high in a smoky gray bra, the lace tickling her curves and making my mouth water.
“I got this especially for our trip,” she says with a sly smile. “It’s a matching set.”
“I’ll have to see it to believe it.”
She opens the button on her pants and undoes the zipper. I catch the slightest glimpse of similar colored underwear, and it nearly kills me not to have her under me right now.
“Very nice,” I say.
I reach around to grip her hair, and then slowly tilt her head back so I can ravage her mouth. I spread her thighs so I can get in as close as possible, so I can run my tongue along hers, and then across her bottom lip before I bite it.
Her breath yanks in again, and then her hands run under my shirt and across my abdomen, making it quiver.
“Fuck,” I hiss, realizing I should have brought her to the bedroom first. The things I want to do to her require a more level surface.
But her hands won’t stop moving, and they feel so good. So warm. When she undoes the button on my jeans, I pull them down and step out of them, then take off my shirt so she can keep touching.
