by Mandi Beck
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Ryann Kerekes. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Imperfect Love remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Ryann Kerekes, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Twisted
Mandi Beck
Contents
Twisted
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
A note to readers
Books in the Imperfect Love World
Also by Mandi Beck
About the Author
To Ran.
My very own bearded beast, always there to rescue me.
Chapter One
Fannin
“She’s marrying your ex in a couple days.”
Groaning I bury my head in my hands, my fingers tunneling through my barely controlled curls. “I know. God, I know.”
“She’s your freaking sister. How the hell does that even happen?” Shelby shakes her head in disgust.
“Step-sister,” I correct.
“Still! Talk about sloppy seconds,” she scoffs. “And now he’s working with us on this new client? Why?”
Erica peels my hands from my face, “You know if you talk to Noah he’ll pull him. He’s your cousin. He has to know this is awkward.”
Sitting up straight I shake my head and look around the crowded bar. “Noah asked me if I minded. I said no. This is a huge account. If I land this and we kick its ass, I’ll be up for promotion. I didn’t want to risk Noah pulling me from it. Nothing would thrill me more than getting that corner office before Adam Cafferty does.”
They nod in understanding and agreement. I know they’d love to see me stick it to the cheating asshole just as much as I would enjoy doing the sticking.
“So what about the wedding?”
“Ahhh, which one of you lovely ladies is getting married?” We’re interrupted by the smoothest voice I’ve ever heard. Deep and rich like honey or chocolate. Or chocolate honey. Is that even a thing? I don’t care if it’s not. It should be. I turn slightly as a large hand slides a wooden board—it looks like part of a whisky barrel—with four half-filled glasses nestled into it onto the high top table. From my elbow he adds another and then a beautifully carved cutting board, “THE IRON FLASK” branded into the rough wood, filled with cheeses, olives, crackers, and an array of sliced and rolled meats. My gaze travels along the arm resting beside me on the table now. Over the thick watch, the smattering of dark hair, the sinewy muscles, the bright colorful lines of a tattoo, up up up over the white shirt pushed up his forearm, broad shoulders, a barrel chest, to a neatly trimmed jet black beard, full lips, chiseled nose until I hit bottomless blue eyes. Holy shit.
“Oh God, none of us. Fannin’s step-sister is marrying her ex. And Fannin has to go to the wedding . . . alone.”
I groan again and pin her with a glare.
Shelby shrugs. “What? He’s the bartender. We’re supposed to tell him our sob stories, and then he helps us figure them all out while serving us the most amazing drinks,” she finishes, popping an olive in her mouth with a smile.
The honey-chocolate-voiced man turns to me. “She’s absolutely right, you know? Now tell Jasper everything, love,” he teases, handing me a glass of amber liquid, a twist of orange floating on the top. My eyes flick to his. At his smile and small nod, I lift the glass to my lips and sip. The flavors burst on my tongue, an appreciative sound following. He winks and turns back to Shelby since she’s clearly the chatty one. I have yet to say anything. I’m not sure I can.
“Well, Jasper,” Shelby all but purrs, “Fannin here was engaged, he left her for her sister—”
“Step-sister.” I’m adamant on that.
“Step-sister. They’re getting married this weekend, Fannin has no date, and now to make matters worse, he is working with us on a new account we’re trying to land here with your boss.”
“My boss?” He looks puzzled.
“Yep. We’re with Tate and Cane Enterprises. Hopefully The Iron Flask will be our newest client, so we’re here to get a feel for the place, talk about some ideas before our conference call in a couple days.”
He nods in understanding and then Erica chimes in.
“And Fannin’s ex-fiancé-slash-future-brother-in-law is on his way to sit in on our little hash session and just aggravate the ever-living hell out of us.”
Jasper glances at me. “That right, Fannin?” The way he says my name . . . there’s a slight accent lurking just beneath the surface. Scottish maybe? It’s like a caress. I take another sip to give me a moment to regroup.
“Yes, but since it’s a business meeting, we won’t have to speak about the wedding at all.” I know it’s a lie. Adam always figures out a way to work the wedding into conversation whenever I’m around. Never has there been a groom so damn involved in a wedding until now.
“I see. Because we wouldn’t want to mix business with pleasure, right?” Jasper is completely in my personal space, and I can’t find it in me to move away. His scent, I can’t put a finger on it. It’s earthy and woodsy yet there’s citrus and . . . whisky, all mixed to make this delicious smell. I want to bury my nose in his neck and just inhale. Clearly, I’ve lost my mind. Either that or I really just need to get laid. Maybe both.
I’m just about to answer when the amazing-only-moments-ago whisky turns to acid in my stomach.
“Ladies. Sorry I’m late. Last minute wedding stuff,” Adam says sheepishly. Purposefully. Dickishly.
I stiffen immediately, which brings me into contact with Jasper’s broad chest. Oddly enough it brings me comfort. Totally ridiculous. I blame the whisky. I’m a completely adept business woman. A shark in a killer suit. I can handle Adam fucking Cafferty. And Jasper chocolate honey.
Chapter Two
Jasper
This guy? Really? With her barely tamed toffee-colored hair, eyes the most amazing color of violet. A shade I’ve only ever seen in the thistle of Scotland, I’m positive they can’t be real. Deep plum-colored lips, the same color as the silky top stretched across her chest. She’s got this wild-child vibe that I’m drawn to. She’s what I like to call a “mullet”—all business on top and party in the back. How did this stuck-up suit ever snag her? Shaking off the thought I tune back into the conversation around the high top.
“Cafferty, nice of you to show up,” the one they called Shelby, the bold beautiful black woman not afraid to spill her friend’s deepest secrets to me, says in a bored tone.
I find myself shifting just a bit closer to Fannin when his eyes land on her. Drawn in by her aura, her presence. Head held high, her face an impassive mask as she takes another sip of the orange blossom whisky I handed her earlier, she barely acknowledges him and his wedding shit dig.
“It’s not like it’s a meeting or anything. We’re just here to get a feel for the place and th
e clientele.” He glances around the bar like it and the patrons enjoying themselves are beneath him. “I don’t know who thought this was a good idea. I’ve been with the company for years and have never used this tactic to gain an account. We don’t spy on our prospective clients.”
“We’re not spying, Adam. We’re doing our homework so that we can put together a package that will benefit the client,” their friend, Erica, tells him while I do my best not to glare at him. He hasn’t even acknowledged me yet, and I don’t believe for one fucking second that’s on accident.
“Fannin is the lead on this one so it doesn’t matter what you think.” My girl Shelby gives him a big “fuck you” smile.
“I’m not sure what Noah was thinking. This is a huge account,” Adam the ass says, insulting Fannin. She doesn’t even blink. Just watches the TV over the bar where a rugby game is going on.
“Noah was thinking that he wanted to score this account and the best person to do that is Fannin.”
The way her friends come to her defense is pretty awesome. I’m not sure if I’m pissed or proud that she’s not even acknowledging him.
His phone rings from his suit pocket, “Excuse me, ladies—it’s my bride.” The moment he steps away from the table, Fannin speaks up.
“Don’t even bother with him, you guys. I couldn’t care less what he thinks. He knows damn well this is the way I work. I like to research so that I can offer the best presentation and plan of action. He’s just pissed because I’m the lead. Do not engage. The less you speak to him the better. I don’t want to hear him cry about this for the next few weeks.” The girls all agree though they’re not happy about it. It’s obvious they care about their friend.
“Beautiful and smart,” I murmur. Fannin turns slightly to look at me.
“A smooth talker, huh? I’m not surprised. You look like a lady killer.” She bites back a smile.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
My game is weak. I know it is, but I’m not sure how to proceed. I’m not even sure why the hell I’m still standing here. But I can’t leave. Besides being drawn to her in ways I haven’t been drawn to a woman in a long time, I feel like I need to protect her from her ex. Except I don’t. She’s more than capable of handling him, but my inner protector doesn’t care. This guy clearly feels threatened by Fannin. Whoever this Noah is, he obviously thinks Fannin can handle the acquisition and watching how cool and calm she is even with her ex smack-talking, he’s absolutely right. I want to put him in his place. Whatever place that may be. Maybe even with my fists, which is a little shocking since I’m not a fighter typically. She’s bringing out the beast in me. But seriously, what kind of dick do you have to be to leave your woman for her step-sister?
I catch little bits and pieces of the ex’s conversation while the girls chat about what an asshole he is. “Noah put her in charge. Going to have a chat with him. She’ll fuck this whole thing up. She should just stick with playing dress up or whatever the hell she does.” I stop listening at that. There’s nothing sexier than confidence, and Fannin has it in spades. The need to protect her turns into the need to stick around to watch her in action.
“The wedding will be perfect; stop worrying. You’ll be the most beautiful woman there, Beth. It’s one of the reasons I’m marrying you.” He says it loud enough that his voice carries to the table. Another dig at Fannin. “Love you too.”
He returns to the table, perching—and that’s the only way to describe it—on the stool taking in my proximity to Fannin with curiosity and disdain. He takes that moment to try to invoke some kind of reaction from the wild beauty beside me.
“Fannin, Bethany wanted me to ask about your plus one. She couldn’t find the card and didn’t know what name to put on the seating chart.” Without hesitation, without thinking about the fact that I don’t even know this woman, not her last name or if she has a boyfriend hiding in her bed or any fucking thing, I hold out my hand. “Jasper James, I’m her plus one.”
Chapter Three
Fannin
I’m her plus one? Did he? He didn’t. He totally did. The table gets quiet as all eyes fall on him.
“Excuse me?” Adam says with an incredulous little laugh.
“Jasper James. Fannin’s plus one. And you are?” Jasper extends his hand, waiting for Adam to pull himself together. “Clearly you’re the groom but I didn’t catch your name, only that you’re marrying Bethany, Fannin’s step-sister. Guess it’s never come up.” And just like that he puts Adam in his place by letting him know his role in my life didn’t even merit mention.
A tad dumbfounded at his amazing acting skills, I pry my eyes off Jasper and nonchalantly swing my gaze to Adam like it’s every day that I introduce a stranger as my . . . date? Boyfriend? What am I supposed to say? I’m not good at this improv thing. “Adam Cafferty, Jasper James.” I watch fascinated as Adam’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, not sure what to say. I can’t blame him. Jasper couldn’t be more different from him if he tried. And since he’s the last guy I dated seriously, I think he’s having a hard time picturing Jasper and I together. That and Jasper looks a little intimidating with his jet black beard, smoldering gaze, and ink. Ok, maybe Adam isn’t paying attention to the smolder, but I am. Milking the situation, I shift closer, leaning into his chest a bit more. Totally inappropriate, but I can’t help myself. He settles his arm along mine on the table, drawing Adam’s attention.
“And what? You work here?” He still hasn’t taken Jasper’s offered hand. Adam narrows his eyes on me, “Is that how you landed the lead? You had an inside man?”
Shelby scoffs, waving him off. “She doesn’t need any help with this account. She’s more qualified than any of us to be the lead. Stop being such a damn baby about it.”
Jasper drops the ignored hand realizing that Adam isn’t going to be an adult about this. One would think it was me who left him for someone else the way he’s acting. “Does Noah know?”
“Know what?” I ask in a bored tone.
“That you’re dating a client. It’s a conflict of interest,” he goes on.
“You know, you’re right.” I snap my fingers and point at him, “You should call and tell him. Maybe he’ll give you the lead instead,” I suggest, knowing damn well Noah would never.
“I think I’m going to. This is unethical.”
The snort that slips out doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. How could it? It was loud and unladylike and I don’t care. “That’s rich.”
Adam pretends like he doesn’t hear me as he gathers his suit jacket and briefcase. “We’ll just see what he says.”
Never have I wanted to punch someone more than I do right now. Right in his smug face.
“Yes, we will. I’ll be waiting with bated breath for his phone call. In the meantime, I’m just going to wait here and carry on with my plans to do some research.” I lift my glass of whisky to him before I take another sip.
“Don’t waste too much of your time on it. Wouldn’t want you to put in unnecessary work when it won’t be your account for long,” Adam says before turning to stride out in his stupid slim fit suit. I call them his skinny suits, much like his skinny jeans. He looks like a tool in both.
“Girl, I don’t know how you put up with his shit for as long as you did. What the hell did you ever see in his uptight ass?” Shelby asks, snatching a glass of whisky off the board. “I mean, he’s not even that fine.”
Erica murmurs her agreement.
I can’t help but laugh at that. I have no idea what I ever saw in him. Or why I let myself be even a little heartbroken when I found out about the affair he was having with my step-sister. Not bothering to answer, I turn in my seat to face Jasper. “You didn’t have to do that.”
His full lips kick up on one side, “Didn’t I though? I couldn’t stand back and let him think he had the upper hand. Not in that suit. Is it supposed to be so tight?” We all burst out laughing at his pained face.
“Well, I appreciate you coming t
o my rescue.” And I mean it. At least it buys me some time to find an actual date. Can I rent one? Do they offer that kind of thing on Craigslist? Maybe I can convince Shelby’s brother to go with me.
“It’s not every day a man like me gets to play the knight in not-so-shining armor,” Jasper chuckles. “So when is this joyous occasion taking place? I’ll have to take my monkey suit to the cleaner.”
“Wait! You’re really going to go?” Erica practically squeals before I can get a word in.
“Of course I am. I said I would and I meant it.” Someone calls him from behind the bar. We’re going to end up getting him fired.
“Jasper, really. You don’t have to do that. Just saying you would for his benefit was enough.” I’m giving him an out, but the voice in my head is screaming for me to shut up. Shut up and let this sexy, intriguing man take me to a wedding where I’m going to be absolutely miserable. Where everyone is going to be watching me, waiting and wondering if I’ll ruin it or lose my mind and have a meltdown. I just know it.
“Fannin.” My name is a caress, the lilt of what I’m sure is a Scottish accent now a little more prominent. Something about my name and the way it rolls off his tongue. “Let me take you.” Four simple words that pack one hell of a punch. I want to let him take me. I want to let him take me right here and now. Oh my God, what is the matter with me? It’s his voice and his smell and the way he speaks to me so intimately like we’re not strangers who only just met. I’m struck silent. At my accepting nod, he grins, his teeth a flash of white in the black of his beard. He pulls his phone from his back pocket and hands it to me. “Put your number in there, I’ll call you tonight. We can devise a story and a plan.” As I do as I’m told, I tune out the excited voices of Shelby and Erica chatting with Jasper like he’s an old friend. I’m pretty sure he’s cast a spell on us all. Handing him his phone back I will myself to actually speak. I should’ve just stayed quiet because I open my mouth and what comes out is nothing short of an invitation, not the words, but the breathy way I say them. “You’re sure you want to take me?”
