“What the fuck is that?” Bradford asked.
Joanna cringed. “There’s something I should probably tell you.”
Bradford tensed. He lived in a way that ensured there was very little he didn’t see coming. Joanna was clouding his judgment and this was more evidence of that. He had no idea the large tent would be there, who was involved in assembling it, or its purpose. Not knowing was sloppy and was how men like him got themselves and the people they cared about killed. “What don’t I know?”
She made another pained face then released his hand and dug through her purse. A moment later she held up a white business card with gold lettering. He read it and swore. Her gaze fell and he swore again. She stuffed the card back in her bag. “I should have said no.”
“You should have.” Irritation with Clay battled with concern for Joanna. “I did.”
“He asked you too?” Her shoulders rose and fell in an awkward move. “I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
He almost swore again but held it back. She probably had no idea what a royal pain in the ass Clay could be. If he thought it wouldn’t probably kill Clay, he’d give the man one good punch to the head as a reminder of what happens to people who meddle in other people’s lives for entertainment. “Don’t be sorry; this is classic Clay. He failed with me so he went for an easier target.”
“Wow. Do you actually listen to what you say? Play that last part back in your head and imagine you’re me.”
He did. Shit. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
She flexed her shoulders and held his gaze. “I know. That’s why I’m giving you a chance to say it differently.”
He groaned. “Clay likes to fuck with me. I’m not happy that this time he used you to do it.”
“Better.” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “I don’t know your history with Clay, and I’ve seen his lack of tact when it comes to dealing with you, but I do believe he likes you.”
“I don’t care how he feels about anything as long as it doesn’t affect my life.”
She looked over at the tent then back at Bradford. “You aren’t curious at all?”
He shook his head. “Not in the least.”
She sighed. “That’s a shame, because I am.” Her attention returned to the large white tent. “I’ve never had a fairy godfather. I certainly never had anyone surprise me with something like this. I need to know what’s inside.”
“You’re going to make me go inside with you, aren’t you?”
“Not at all.” She gave him a long look. “You’re a smart man. I’m sure you can find the way back to your car if you want to.”
Bradford folded his arms across his chest. “It won’t stop here. If you give Clay any encouragement at all there’s no way he won’t come back with something bigger and crazier. This is a game to him.”
She smiled. “I know, but where’s your sense of adventure? Of fun? Do you think Clay has any desire to see either of us hurt?”
Grudgingly, he admitted, “No.”
“So, what are you afraid of? That you might enjoy yourself?” She took a step toward the tent.
“For all we know he has hidden cameras in there.”
She took another step toward the tent. “All he’ll see is me smiling and laughing because I love surprises, and I bet this one is fun.”
Bradford closed the distance between them. He stopped within inches of her and hovered without touching. “I don’t like surprises.”
She touched the scarred side of his face gently. “I understand why, but I’d like to share this with you. If it’s annoying, we run out together. If it’s fun, we’ll have a great shared memory.”
He didn’t walk into a room without knowing who would be there and what their vulnerabilities were. She was asking him to blindly follow her into an unknown—go against everything experience had taught him to do. The contents of the tent didn’t scare him, but the lure of her did. He would have said he couldn’t be manipulated, but all she had to do was look up at him with those big eyes and that gorgeous smile and there was nothing he could deny her. “Okay.”
“Yes!” A huge smile lit her face and she went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. He closed his eyes as emotion and desire rocked through him.
Her hand closed around his and she tugged him to follow her.
He was tempted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she completely forgot about anything but finding a much more private place where they could enjoy each other. Instead, he smiled back at her and matched his pace to hers.
Fucking Clay.
For your sake, you’d better have brought your best fairy godfather game today.
Sometimes you just have to trust your gut.
And people.
That’s what Joanna told herself as she and Bradford approached the man in the white tux who greeted them with a formal nod and, “Miss Ervin. Mr. Wilson. Welcome.”
“And if that’s not who we are?” Bradford asked.
The man took out his phone and turned the screen toward them revealing a photograph of the two of them. “Then Mr. Landon has friends who are your doppelgangers.”
Bradford arched an eyebrow.
Joanna leaned closer to see the photo. It was taken the night before just after he’d walked away from the table and she’d chased after him. Her hands were on her hips and he was looking down at her. She cringed at the amount of cleavage she hadn’t realized her gown had shown, but then took note of the flush of his cheeks. He’s definitely into me. How did I not see that?
Desire fluttered through her. How was it possible to feel such a strong connection to him before they’d even kissed? She’d joked that the way to keep her was to not bore her in bed, but she was beginning to think it was more complicated than that. They exchanged a look that confirmed he could get her heart racing and her body craving his without so much as a touch. How hot would that flame burn when they actually fanned it?
She tore her attention from him and forced herself to respond to the man in the tux. “That’s us.”
The man repocketed his phone then clapped his hands and the flap at the front of the tent was pulled back. “Then welcome to the Glass Slipper.”
Bradford groaned.
Joanna stood straighter and looked him in the eye. “You don’t have to come in, but if you do, please don’t ruin it for me.”
He took a moment to answer, then said, “Understood.” The smile he gave her looked a little forced, but she accepted his attempt.
Together they stepped through the opening of the tent and into a small area that was portioned off from the rest. The part they entered had one round glass table set for two with white frosted plates and silverware. The seat the man in the tux held out for Joanna was clear acrylic. From the white and gold pattern of the flooring to the twinkling crystal pumpkins hanging from a chandelier, the setting was magical.
Joanna sat down with wide eyes and a huge smile.
Bradford sat across from her. “Wow, this is tacky.”
Some of the wind went out of Joanna’s sails. She was tired of trying to get him to see the fun in it. Maybe they were too different.
The silence that followed was uncomfortably long. He drummed his fingers on the table. She told herself it was okay when reality didn’t live up to fantasy.
Another man in a white tux appeared and handed them both a menu with a few choices, some labeled as vegetarian friendly. Clay was a considerate fairy godfather. She wasn’t sure how he knew, but she’d have to remember to thank him.
Bradford read his menu then laid it down and growled, “Are you wishing you were here with someone else?”
His question took her by surprise. She put her menu down as well and chose her words carefully. “I’m wondering if we have what it takes to get beyond how different we are, but there isn’t anyone I’d rather be here with. I just wish you could let go and see it the way I do.”
He looked away then back at her. “Tell me how you see all this.”
<
br /> His reply didn’t feel like a challenge as much as a sincere request. She waved a hand at the chandelier. “Look at the crystal pumpkins. I have no idea where Clay would have found something like that, but it took effort on his part to think this up. It does border on tacky . . . but it’s also unique and playful and thoughtful. His menu reflects that he cares about my eating preferences. That’s really sweet.”
“So, you’re not bothered at all that he takes photos of us without permission or how he knows you’re a vegetarian?”
She thought about it. “I guess I could be if I wanted to be. I don’t live in some perfect fantasy in my head. Awful things happen every day and I wish they didn’t. I try to balance the world by being the best person I can be. I know that’s not enough, but it’s what I’m able to do. I understand Clay might be doing this more for himself than us, but that doesn’t stop me from loving that he is trying to bring us together.” She smoothed her napkin over her lap. “I should warn you that I made him promise to find someone for you if we don’t work out.”
“Why would you do that?”
He needed the truth as much as she needed to say it. “Because I like to see you smile. And despite what you think, you deserve to be happy.”
If it was possible for a hulking, intimidating man to look uncertain and huggable, that was how Bradford appeared to Joanna. If they’d been alone or in a more stable place with each other she would have gotten up and given him a long, tight hug.
He frowned. “Don’t—”
“Swear? Jinx. You owe me a dollar,” she cut him off with a joke to lighten the mood.
He cocked his head slightly to one side. “What is it with you and small amounts of money?”
“What would you rather owe me?” Her question hung in the air between them, completely changing the focus of their conversation.
His grin was pure devilish charm. “If you’re ever lucky enough to be with me, I’ll tell you.”
She’d never found a man sexier. His eyes were unguarded and the world fell away as she gazed into them. “You’re quite the ballbuster, I see.”
“I’m confident you can give as good as you get.”
Before she had a chance to respond, the server was back asking if they were ready to order. Joanna ordered a water, a bowl of fruit, a side of granola, and yogurt.
Bradford said, “Just coffee. Black.”
She looked the menu over again. “He’ll have the Oreo pancakes.”
He didn’t correct her but after the server left the table, he gave her a long look.
She raised her shoulders as well as both hands and shamelessly said, “I’m trying to eat healthy, but they sound delicious.”
“Did you order them for me or for you?”
She made a show of looking innocent. “I know you don’t eat breakfast but this was an opportunity I felt you shouldn’t miss.” She couldn’t hold her smile back. “Also, one bite off your plate won’t kill my diet.”
He threw back his head and laughed. They sat there simply smiling at each other like two teenagers on a first date. Their drinks were delivered as well as their food. Alone again, Bradford asked, “What if I’m not the type to share?”
“You’d make an exception for me.” She rested her chin on her hand and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Because you like me.”
He leaned across the space between them, cupped her chin, and brought her face to his. He claimed her mouth with confidence. His was not a kiss from a boy—but from an experienced man who knew what he wanted.
Her lips quivered under his then opened when his tongue darted across them. He wasn’t gentle, nor did he rush. In that kiss she found a hint of what sex between them might be like and it brought being with him to a whole new level. She’d had sex, even good sex, but nothing she’d ever had trouble walking away from. Bradford was building a hunger in her, a slow burn of need that was so intense it scared her a little.
She broke off the kiss and sat back.
He settled into his seat as well.
They were both breathing raggedly.
After their breakfast was served, he cut into his mountain of pancakes, stabbed his fork through a decadent pile, and held it up for her to take. “The only thing I can’t imagine sharing is you.”
She let him feed her in a way she’d always thought was corny when she’d seen other couples do it. It didn’t feel corny at all. It felt wildly intimate to be fed by him. She chewed, swallowed, then said, “In that regard, I’m not good at sharing either.”
“Tell me something about yourself.”
She filled a spoon with berries. “What would you like to know?”
“Anything. Everything.”
Although she would have rather heard about his life, she started to tell him about hers because he seemed to be seeking something. “I was raised on a small farm. Nothing fancy. We had horses, chickens, and whatever animal people asked us to help them rehome. I don’t remember a time when my day didn’t start with barn chores. Dad worked as an IT tech for a local bank. Mom still owns a florist shop. They’re both mostly retired now, but they still take in animals others might call throwaways.”
“Sounds crowded.”
“Not really. Rescues aren’t when their goal is to rehabilitate and rehome. A few stay, either because my parents fall in love with them or because they’re too broken for anyone else to want.”
His face tightened. “Is that what this is? You think you can rescue me?”
She could have lied, but he wouldn’t have believed her. “I’ll admit that when I first met you I just wanted to hug you.” He looked uncomfortable with her admission, so she added, “Now I’m open to that and where that hug might take us.”
Desire flamed in his eyes. “You are surprisingly direct.”
“Not usually.”
The air was charged with sexual tension again. He cleared his throat. “You moved closer to the city for college. I’m surprised you didn’t move back.”
She took a bite of her fruit before answering. “I live close enough to visit my parents once a week, but far enough to have my own life. I have amazing parents, but if my mother could, she would still be making my bed and reading my diary.”
“You keep a diary?”
“I kept one for her.” Joanna smiled as she reminisced. “I was in my early teens when I suspected she was reading the real one I had. Spitefully, I wrote a few wild entries that had her flipping out with worry. I was so angry with her I didn’t care. When my father found out what I’d done, he suggested I write everything I felt in my diary and leave it out for her to read. I did. And she answered me on the next page.”
“And said you were grounded?”
“No, she apologized and explained how losing her father had left her with a fear of losing everyone she loved. We wrote back and forth to each other in journals straight through college.”
“That’s—” He didn’t seem to have a word for it.
She supplied, “beautiful.”
“Yes.”
“Were your parents—?”
“No.”
She almost said she was sorry, but they’d been down that road before and he didn’t want her sympathy. Instead, she said, “Anyway, while at college I met Aly and Angelina. We hit it off and they’ve also become family to me.”
He let out a long breath. “I don’t have a family nor am I looking for one.”
She could have let him have that claim, but that wasn’t what she’d witnessed. “That’s not true. You and Ian have a bond that some might argue is stronger than a blood tie.”
“Ian’s the exception.”
“Connor absolutely adores you. And before you say anything I won’t believe—just admit you like him too.”
“He’s a good guy and he’s hilarious.”
“Family comes in all shapes and sizes. The mistake people make is thinking it has to be one certain way to be good. That’s just not true.”
His eyes narrowed. “Before you say anyth
ing I won’t believe—your definition of family includes marriage, kids, trips to Disney?”
She wagged a finger at him. “It does and no one can make me feel bad about it. I want to raise a whole herd of children and teach them all how to muck stalls and chase chickens. My dreams don’t require anyone’s validation. I know what I want.”
He shook his head and opened his mouth to say something then snapped it shut. They ate without speaking for a few minutes.
The server returned to clear their plates. As soon as he left, the man who had initially greeted them returned. “Are you ready?”
“For?” Bradford asked, rising to his feet.
Joanna grabbed her purse and stood as well. Bradford held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Her heart was racing with a combination of his nearness and anticipation of what else Clay might have prepared for them.
The man pointed to an opening that led deeper into the tent. “For the ball. Follow me, please.”
Bradford leaned down and said, “If I admit I’m curious about what’s next that doesn’t mean I agree with Clay’s heavy-handedness.”
Joanna smiled up at him. “Of course not.” She gave into an impulse and hugged his side. “I’m excited too.”
Chapter Seven
Bradford wasn’t normally surprised by much, but as he stepped into the next part of the tent he had to admit that someone, likely not Clay himself, had done an impressive job of creating a cohesive theme.
The section was significantly larger than the one they’d left, fifty by a hundred feet was his guess. All white background from the flooring to the solid walls right up to the solid but twinkling white ceiling. He immediately noted two exits: the one they’d just entered and one at the far end of the room.
Scattered around the room were ball games like one might find in an arcade—all clear with white and black accents. Impressive in their uniqueness. The basketball throw had a clear acrylic base with black accents on the hoop. The balls in the basket beside it were similar, transparent except for their black lines.
Farther on was a clear bowling alley that looked like an ice sculpture but seemed to be made of acrylic as well. Next to it was a line of what looked like crystal balls. All of it was accented in white. There was a black-and-white pinball machine beside a similar skeet ball target area with small clear balls the size of grapefruits.
Reluctantly Rescued (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 9) Page 9
