“What the fuck did that douchebag do now?”
She sighed. “Nothing. Well, nothing yet. He’s, uh, he’s coming over here to talk.”
Clay stood. “To my house?”
Emily wasn’t going to let him tower over her like that. It took away any power she had. So she stood. “Well, you invited me to live here, Clay, so in a way, it’s mine too. He’s already on his way over. I tried to talk him out of it.” It was worse than she’d imagined. “I’ll get him out of here as soon as I can.”
His face looked pained as he drew in a deep breath. “No. That’s okay. I don’t own you. That’s fine. I just…don’t want him in here or the office. Or my bedroom.”
“No problem.” Mary was already gone, and she was relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about her too. She knew Mary had figured out about her and Clay long ago, and she didn’t want the looks she would have been bound to receive from Mary with Bryce there. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “No need.”
The doorbell rang then, relieving Emily of any further awkward conversation. “Uh…that’s probably him.” Clay nodded but didn’t say a word.
She let out a breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding in when she started walking down the hall. When she got to the door, she stood in front of it for several seconds. Part of her didn’t want to answer it, but she knew she needed to deal with Bryce once and for all. She noticed her hand was shaking as she grabbed the knob and twisted it. She had no clue what she was going to say to him.
It was Bryce, all right, looking tanned and relaxed. “Em! How have you been?”
Like it was any of his business. He walked inside and picked her up in his arms, twirling her around. She’d seen couples doing that in commercials, and she supposed it signified happiness and joy at being alive, but more than that, it represented love. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Bryce nowadays, but she sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to be flung around like a ragdoll. “Not bad.” She took a shallow breath when he placed her back on the floor. Good. Her icy stance was working. Dumb ass didn’t try to kiss her. “You look good.”
“European continent was so good for me, Em. I need to take you there next summer.”
She started to say something and then pursed her lips together. When she got hold of her thoughts, she asked, “Can I interest you in a cup of coffee or a glass of iced tea?”
“You know, coffee actually sounds pretty good.” She knew he’d say that. She’d made a pot before she’d gone to break the news to Clay. She led him into the kitchen.
“Have a seat,” she said. She poured coffee into two cups and then grabbed creamer out of the refrigerator for him. He’d drunk her creamer long enough that he didn’t mind it.
He squinted as she sat down. “Where’s your ring?”
It was the hard little piece of metal in her jeans pocket. She wasn’t going to tell him yet, though. “Don’t worry about the ring.”
“Too damn bad, Em. I am worried about it. What did you do with it?”
She felt as though an icy waterfall crashed over her body. She was beyond cool. “What did you do with my trust? Maybe that’s a better question.”
“I explained that to you, Em. Damn it. Don’t you get it?”
Emily didn’t laugh on the outside, but his reaction was comical. Bryce was usually quite reserved, but he was losing it. “I told you I needed time.”
“How much goddamn time do you need? It’s been months.”
“Listen, Bryce. Right now, I’m willing to talk to you about working for your father. All other bets are off right now.”
Bryce’s expression tried to match her chilly demeanor. “What makes you think he’ll take you without me?”
She shook her head. “I have no guarantee, but I don’t care. I would be an asset to anyone’s company.”
“Not as much as you seem to think.”
She knew he was just trying to get her goat, and she wasn’t going to let him. She couldn’t. So she said nothing and sipped her coffee.
“Look, Emily, I don’t think it’s too much to ask where I stand.”
That was it. She couldn’t help it. A trickle of emotion entered her voice. “I don’t have an answer for you, Bryce. If you hadn’t screwed around—”
“That was months ago, Em. I want to know exactly what that rock star is doing to influence you.”
Clay entered the kitchen then, right on cue. She looked up at him from the table and felt the breath leave her body. He only took a couple steps inside the kitchen, as though he didn’t want to intrude. “He bothering you?”
Emily took a breath. As much as his presence was welcome, she had to deal with Bryce on her own, for better or for worse. “It’s fine.”
Bryce stood. Emily had never seen the man fight or so much as lift a fist to someone else, but she could feel the testosterone today. He didn’t move a step, though. And for some reason, she couldn’t read Clay, not like she usually could. He said, “I’m gonna head out for a while. If you need me,” he said, staring Bryce down, “text or call.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Clay nodded back and turned, walking out of the kitchen. It wasn’t long before she heard the Corvette revving and peeling out of the garage and down the street. That was when she took the ring out of her jeans pocket, because now she could talk to Bryce and say everything she needed to without worrying about being overheard.
Chapter Thirty
ALL THE WIND was taken out of his sails. Just as he’d feared all along. It didn’t matter that they felt perfect for each other. She was going to go live that life she thought she needed. Somehow, Emily believed those stupid romance novels. She thought she had to go live the perfect life in the suburbs with two kids, a dog, and her slick douchebag husband who didn’t love her.
Clay parked the car and walked toward the door of the bar. It was a place he’d frequented off and on over the past year and a half, because it was only about five minutes from his house.
He walked in and let his eyes adjust to the dark. Somehow being in a dark bar made it easier to drink at three in the afternoon. But he wasn’t going to drink yet. Not yet.
No. The plan was to drink a water and watch whatever shit they were playing on one of their widescreens. She had two hours. If she didn’t call or text within two hours, then he would know she didn’t need him. Or want him. That would be the reality. Two hours would be more than enough time for her to tell Bryce to fuck off and then call Clay. Less than two hours, he had a chance.
He realized too that Emily might call him if she was having a hard time getting rid of Bryce. That’d be fine too. Nothing he’d like better than to sink his fist into that motherfucker’s perfect teeth. That wouldn’t mean she’d chosen Clay, though, and that was the part that was driving him mad.
What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d let down his Jet armor way too early with that woman. He’d trusted her far more than he should have. As a PA, sure, it was necessary, but he should have listened to Mary and kept it business only. He had no one to blame but himself, and he was a fucking idiot for having believed she would choose him over douchey rich boy.
He didn’t get it. He and Emily had serious chemistry. He’d never felt that way with anyone else before. That didn’t mean he hadn’t had some good relationships, because he definitely had. But he and Emily clicked at a base level that he didn’t think he ever had with anyone else. He’d been able to tell her stuff he’d never told anyone else, and she understood.
And so knowing that she was just going to piss that away on a guy who obviously didn’t love her made both Clay and Jet fighting mad. He finished the water and left the bartender ten dollars since he wasn’t going to get his business after all.
He couldn’t bite his tongue anymore. And if that slick little shit said one word—one word—about getting the girl anyway, he was gonna fuck him up. He didn’t care if it meant his ass would be in jail for a while or if the guy’s lawyers decided to sue the pan
ts off him. It didn’t matter. He had to tell Emily what he felt. If she laughed, well, then, he could wish her a happy life and ask her to leave.
He wasn’t worried about the PA part. He could hire someone else. A new person might not be as good as Emily, but she wouldn’t want to work with him if she decided to run off with Bryce anyway.
He pulled into the garage. He was nervous then, because douche boy’s red car was nowhere to be found. Emily hadn’t called so she might have left with him. Well, yeah, that would make sense too. If you’re gonna have a reunion fuck, you don’t want your boss-slash-fuck buddy walking in on it.
Oh, he shouldn’t have been thinking of that. His blood started to boil again. He was an emotional mess—angry, hurt, feeling betrayed. He was all Clay inside, which was why it was more important than ever to be Jet on the outside. He hoped against hope that she’d be inside. If she wasn’t, he was going to have to call her, and keeping Jet on was still just as important.
The house felt quiet. Yeah, she was probably gone. He walked back toward the kitchen, almost afraid of what he would find.
But there she was, sitting at the table, staring into her cup of coffee. Douche boy was gone. Clay didn’t even want to sit in the chair where the guy had been, but it was closest to the doorway. Part of him was even afraid to say anything, but he had to let it out or he was gonna explode. He was like Mount Saint Helens. The pressure was building, and if he didn’t let it out, some bad things were going to happen.
He kept calm, though. He had to. He had to be Jet one more time. He wasn’t going to let her shred his heart apart. No…that was a given. He wasn’t going to let her see that she was shredding it. That she hadn’t called told him everything he needed to know. She was composing herself to give him some bad news. With or without her slick suburban asshole-to-be, she needed to tell Clay something he wasn’t going to like.
He swallowed. His mouth felt dry but he had to get the words out. Start simple. “What’s going on?” She looked up at him. She’d been crying. Then he felt like a shithead. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“So what’s going on?”
“I was trying to call you.”
“That made you cry?” Yeah. All hope was definitely gone.
She laughed in spite of her watery eyes. “No, silly.” She wiped at her eyes. “I was crying before that.”
Be Jet. BE JET, goddammit. “What made you cry?”
She looked down at her hands on the table. They were so delicate, so beautiful, and Clay noticed. There was no ring on her hand. “What I told Bryce.” He wanted to keep asking questions, start grilling her, but he knew he’d already gone too far. It might not be any of his business…and maybe he didn’t want to know. He nodded and clenched his teeth together, waiting for her to say whatever it was she needed to say. “Can you believe he really couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to stay engaged after he slept around on me?” She shook her head, but she was still looking at her hands. “Like he’s a prize, you know? But…this summer, you’ve made me realize something.”
“I have?”
“Yeah. Life’s way too short to spend doing something you don’t want to do.”
Clay let out a half chuckle. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” She looked at him then. “So I gave him back his ring and told him to have a nice life.” Clay nodded. Still too soon to celebrate. “And I had to tell him I was also going to decline his dad’s offer.”
“Life’s too short?”
She smiled then. “Yep.” She looked down at her hands again but then made eye contact with Clay. “You weren’t planning to fill my position with someone else anytime soon, were you?”
He shook his head. “No.” That was only the plan if she’d left…and he wasn’t going to say anything.
“Something I realized the other day. You remember how pissed I was that you had paid off my student loan?”
“Like I could forget?”
“But then I started to appreciate that you had to jump through a lot of hoops to make sure I didn’t see it taken out of your checking. You went out of your way to do something I could have done in two seconds if I’d written it in your checkbook. And I somehow suspect you wouldn’t do that for just anybody.” He shrugged a shoulder, hoping he still looked nonchalant. “Would you?”
Jet finally rose to the surface. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She smiled but said nothing. Clay couldn’t wait any longer. She was beating around the bush, and he’d had enough. Fine. He was going to let her have his heart and if she did a tap dance on it, so be it. At least he could say he tried. “Emily.” He took those slim hands in his. When she looked up at him through her watery eyes, he felt like he lost his footing. He had to push on. “Something I’ve realized over the last couple of months.” He swallowed. “No, let me start over.”
She removed her right hand from his and pressed her index finger to his lips. “No, let me finish.” It felt like she’d tied a cinderblock to his heart and it was sinking. Come on, Jet, don’t let that shit show on your face. “Something I hadn’t thought about until recently, Clay, is that I really don’t want to spend life doing things I don’t want to do. It would have been easy enough for me to walk down that path, but then you opened a door for me I thought would always be closed. And doing that made me start to look at everything around me in a different way. It made me look at you differently. When I first met you, I thought you were just a spoiled rock star who wanted to party all night and sleep all day, but then you showed me there was so much more to you.”
He grinned and moved his chair close but said nothing. He had so much he wanted to say, but he still didn’t know where he stood with her. Clay wanted to run ahead so badly, but he had to wait. He took Emily’s hand. She smiled back. Her voice was soft. “I guess it’s pretty stupid, but a couple of weeks ago, I was trying to picture the rest of my life, and Bryce doesn’t belong there. I don’t think about marrying him and get excited. See…I used to date a lot of bad boys and fringe bad boys, the guys who’d make my stomach feel like it was full of butterflies, the guys my dad hated, but the ones who’d go hot and heavy. Those relationships always ended badly, but I had fun while they lasted. The nice guys—or the proper ones—a lot of times would treat me fine, but there was nothing fun about it. There was no spark, no passion. Bryce was one of those nice guys, but he wound up being a real ass…and you.” Clay felt his mouth grow dry again but he kept his focus. “You were supposed to be the guy who fizzled out, you know? The passion was supposed to fade, or you were supposed to turn into a dick or something, but…” Clay saw tears well up in her eyes again. “But you’re still here, and I still care.”
He found his voice then. He took her face in his hands. Jet was gone, off playing somewhere, and Clay was ready to just throw it all out there—his heart, his guts, his very soul, and this woman could do with them what she would. “Emily Brinkman, I love you. Okay? I love you, and if you don’t love me back, my life will go on, but I can’t go any longer without telling you. Not telling you would be a mistake. If telling you winds up also being a mistake, at least it’s one I can live with.” His breathing was shallow then, and he just clenched his jaw, waiting for her to speak. Part of him wanted to kiss her, but not anymore—not until he knew how she felt.
She smiled as a tear welled over one of her eyes. “I love you too, Clay.” Then he couldn’t hold back and brought her face to his. The dryness in his mouth had gone with his words, and he knew why. This woman—she was his water, his life. She was everything.
Their kiss was magical. Emily caught her breath when their lips parted again. “I’m not a planner, Emily. Never have been; never will be. I don’t give a flying fuck about the economy or what the cocksuckers in congress are doing to fuck up our lives further. I’m just not that kind of guy.” He took a deep breath. “If that’s the kind of man or life you need, then you should walk away now.” He clenched his jaw. He was going to get this out if it kil
led him. “But if you want to have nonstop fun, if you don’t mind some spontaneity, a lot of fucking killer music, then I’m your man. Unlike douche boy, I will always be faithful.”
She started laughing then. “Douche boy?”
He laughed with her. “Yeah, that’s my name for the asshole who was here earlier.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the guy’s real name. Just couldn’t. He got serious again. He had to finish what he was thinking. “I told you a while back about the women I loved, right? Abby and Val? I don’t love easily, but I love hard. And it’s a forever kind of love. I’m hoping the third time’s a charm.”
“Oh, Clay.” The tears streamed down her cheeks then.
“Don’t cry, babe.”
“I can’t help it. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
He grinned. “You don’t look happy.”
She started laughing, even as a tear dropped on the table. “I am…because now I know I can have it all. I don’t have to settle.”
He pulled her close, holding her tightly. He would never let this woman go. After a minute, she kissed his neck and then tilted her head. After several kisses, Clay could tell they were both feeling full of desire, something he suspected would never change. She did it for him like no other woman, and he wasn’t going to will the hard on away. As she started pulling up on his shirt, his lips touched her neck like a feather. “So, who do you want? Clay or Jet?”
She started giggling. “You silly. I prefer it best when you’re both.”
“Both?”
She kissed him again, running her tongue along his lower lip. “You know that no matter how hard you try, you really are both Clay and Jet?” He felt his eyebrows start to raise on his forehead. “Oh, sweetie, I know you think there’s a big difference, but there’s not. Not to me, anyway. And I love every little thing about you. You are sweet and hot and bad when you want to be, and I love you every single way you are.”
“You little devil.”
“It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me. I guess my question is who do you want to be right now?”
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 90
