It isn’t a question, and I don’t give her an answer. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Brandon, please. Let me explain.”
The need to touch her is so strong, I reach out and snag her hand. She’s so different from me, soft yes, but her skin sings of spas and expensive lotions. That’s when I see it.
“That looks like explanation enough.” The rock on her finger has to be the size of a bolt around a spark plug.
I let her go like she was made of fire just as Dana pushes through the door. Although I don’t like Dana’s little jealousy display as she steps over to me and places a possessive hand on my arm, I say nothing to stop her.
“Can we have coffee?” She glances at Dana and then back to me. “Please?”
The regret in her voice is evident, but it doesn’t take away from the gouge that ring dug into my heart.
“How about after you close for the night?” she pleads, unashamed.
I could give her points for that, but I don’t.
Dana jumps in. “He’s got plans. We’ll be more than a little busy, if you know what I mean.”
Jenna steps back. Hurt flares in her gorgeous eyes along with beautiful pink roses in her cheeks. They match the color of her lips, which I’ve longed to kiss. But we’d kept things casual. I was the fool who’d thought she’d eventually come around and see what we could have together.
“Dana, can you give us a minute?”
She glances at me and searches for anger. We’ll have words, but right now, I need to wrap things up with Jenna. Dana leaves without another word.
“Her?” Jenna accuses.
My brow lifts. “You and I are just friends, right? That’s all we’ve ever been.”
I drop the hand I’d used to point between us.
“You don’t understand—”
“No, you don’t. I can’t be your friend, Jenna.”
“What?”
“I doubt your fiancé would appreciate the thoughts I have about you and have had from the beginning.” I pause. “Does he know how much time you spend with me when he’s away?”
It’s not as much as we used to spend because I’ve tried and failed at dating other people. But still, it’s more time than the guy knows about because she still hasn’t told him about me as far as I know.
She licks her lips, and my cock starts to rise from the dead, the fucker. “We haven’t crossed the line.”
“And how many times have we gotten close? I can’t do this anymore with you. It’s not fair to either of us.”
“Brandon.”
Waving her off, I say, “I have work to do. Go back to Kenneth, whatever his name is. That’s what your parents want.”
I don’t wait for a reply. Work still has to get done. She doesn’t follow, and it’s a while before I hear the sound of her engine. I close my eyes when I do. Our friendship was accidental. I fell for her in the same manner.
When the day is over and Jeff’s gone, Dana saunters over.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Actually, I’m going to call it a night,” I say.
She runs a hand through her short black hair. “You are not turning me down because of her. She doesn’t deserve you.”
“It’s not her.”
Her hand comes up to her chest. She’s not busty, so her fingers spread easy as she feigns hurt.
“It’s me?”
I shrug. “Maybe I don’t want to lead you on because there’s never going to be an us.”
Anger is quick to burn in those eyes of hers.
“Fuck you, Brandon. Have I ever asked you for anything?”
“No, but what you did earlier…” I wave it off.
“That was for you. I’m tired of watching her string you along.”
“She’s none of your business. You’re my employee. I should have never let things go so far in the first place.”
Her lip curls in a sneer, and she tosses a rag she’d been holding onto a nearby cart. I watch as she stomps off. There’s no regret when she leaves. But I have regrets about someone else. I need a drink. After cleaning up and changing into clothes I keep in the back, I find myself walking into town. I plan to drown myself in dark liquor before the night is done. No need to have a car I won’t be able to drive. Plus, I relish the fresh air.
I’m headed to my favorite spot when I see her. Damn, she looks good in a skirt that hugs her hips and a top that barely contains her breasts. But what stirs my gut is her hand in another guy’s while she wears a smile that used to shock life into me. He makes her happy. Although it’s like a knife in my chest, I want her to be happy. Unable to stand it, I duck into the first bar and find a seat.
While ordering a whiskey, I spot a redhead two seats down checking me out. Maybe, I think. When the glass is put in front of me, I down the contents and order another. It doesn’t take the redhead long to make her move. By the time I’ve had three shots, she’s worked her way down to the empty stool next to me.
“You look like a man on a mission,” she says.
“I could say the same about you. Well, except the man part.” I grin. She’s pretty enough, though she’s not my sunshine. To forget what my heart wants maybe I could stand a blazing inferno like the woman’s hair.
“I am. And you look like just the guy to take me to the moon.”
It’s just cheesy enough to make my smile grow larger.
“I should warn you…”
I’m about to finish that statement when, despite the noise of the bar, I notice when the door opens. Glancing up, a set of gray eyes lock on mine, and anything I’m about to say instantly vanishes, along with thoughts of the redhead who sits next to me.
Thirteen
Jenna
Kenneth and I are headed to dinner when he gets a call from his father, the almighty Senator Balfour. Whenever that happens, he drops everything to scurry to his father’s wishes. But that isn’t the problem. It’s what happens afterward. He wants to immediately drive me home. I’m not in the mood to go home. I want to stay out and go have a drink somewhere. So I tell him.
“You can’t do that.”
“What do you mean? Of course, I can do that. I do it all the time. I’ll catch a ride home with Uber or something. Or maybe I’ll see if Cate wants to meet me. She and Drew are still in town.”
Kenneth’s expression sours, and it begins to piss me off. “Jenna, it simply isn’t proper for you to be seen around town, alone, cavorting in bars, now that we’re engaged to be married.”
I have to scoop my jaw off the sidewalk. “Cavorting in bars, huh?” When was the last time I actually cavorted? I have to think about this. It’s been a long time. Too long, I’m thinking.
“Yes. You have to remember your place as the daughter-in-law of a senator. This is important business, and you have to be taken seriously.”
Nearly tripping on the sidewalk, and not because of the heels I wear, I say, “I do have a brain, Kenneth, and I take it very seriously. I wouldn’t have gotten my current job if I didn’t. But I’m not running around doing anything improper, for goodness sake. All I’m going to do is stay out and have a few drinks. Maybe get my bestie to meet me.”
“I can’t possibly allow it.” And he’s not kidding.
“You’re going to have to rethink your attitude on this, Kenny. Just because we’re engaged doesn’t make you the boss of me, nor does it make you my keeper.”
The annoying loud constant beep of his phone interrupts us again. As he speaks to I presume his father again, I can see how agitated Kenneth is. He’s restless and twitchy as he talks on the phone. We’ve scooted to the edge of the sidewalk to avoid the foot traffic, but a few people eye us as they pass by.
After he hangs up, he takes my arm and steers me back toward his car. “Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’m taking you home.”
“I’m not going home. I already told you.”
“Yes, Jenna, you are.”
I put the brakes on, forcing him to stop,
too. “No, I’m not. Go and take care of things, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I slip past his hold and dash away in the opposite direction, listening to him calling my name. Ignoring it, I realize there’s something I need to face, and soon. This will be the first of many of these altercations if I keep up this charade of an engagement. And I ask myself why I’m doing it. I get the impression from Kenneth the only reason he’s in it is to satisfy his parents. Everyone, including me, knows that’s not any kind of reason to get married. He may be a good guy, but still. Besides what just occurred, there’s the Brandon factor. If I’m honest with myself, thoughts of him weigh heavily on my mind, too. There are so many facets to consider, but none of them add up to positive reasons to marry Kenneth. As I’ve walked, I end up in front of this cool bar I’ve been to in the past. So I decide to go inside for a drink. Maybe I’ll even cavort a little, for old time’s sake. Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, I look over at the bar. Wouldn’t you know it, as if the stars were aligned against me, or perhaps in my favor, who knows, there sits the true object of my affection? Brandon. In all his beautiful inked up glory and hot sexiness. What I would do for one night of sinful pleasure with this man.
With locked gazes, it seems we are part of a magnetic field, unable to break away from it. It’s funny how I end up at the same bar where he is, and if you’d ask me, I’d never be able to tell you how I got there.
“Following me, huh? Or should I say something cheesy like fancy meeting you here,” he says in his gritty tone. It makes me want to crawl onto his lap and kiss the hell out of his fuck-me mouth.
“Yeah, fancy that.” I plop into the vacant seat next to him. It’s then I notice the attractive redheaded woman sitting next to him. She’s eyeing me like she wants to claw my throat out.
Surveying the two of them, I ask, “Did I interrupt something?”
“No,” he answers. But she pouts, and I can certainly understand why.
The bartender takes my order, and I release a heavy sigh.
“Rough evening?” Brandon asks.
Not answering immediately, I consider exactly how much I should tell him, especially since the way we parted company. “Maybe. But I thought we weren’t friends.”
“I said I can’t be your friend. Not we aren’t friends.”
“Semantics,” I say.
The redhead leans over and says, “Sounds the same to me.” I want to tell her to stay out of this, but I don’t. The last thing I need is to make some kind of a scene. So I give her a smile-not-smile.
Brandon turns her way, and I hate that I can’t hear the interchange between them. Whatever it was, she scowls now. It makes me happy, and that’s plain stupid because I’m engaged to Kenneth. Ugh!
When he faces me again, I want to melt against him, run my fingers through his hair, and have dirty, raw sex with him. And for what I know he’d be all in. Kenneth, on the other hand, would probably tell me not to disturb the perfection of each strand of styled locks, and that he wouldn’t want to wrinkle his pants. All I want to do is scream out to the world what the fuck am I doing?
“Are you okay?” Brandon asks.
Giving my head a firm shake, I say, “I suppose so. Why?”
“You have the most frightful expression on your face right now.”
“Oh, that’s great to know. Gee. Thanks, Brandon.”
“No! That didn’t come out right. What I meant was, you actually look scared. Even your coloring is off. Sort of ashen. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Redhead peeks over Brandon’s shoulder. She says, “Yeah, you look awful. You don’t have that stomach bug going around, do you? My friend puked for three days from that.”
Brandon turns and must’ve glared at her or something because she shrinks in her seat, and a minute later, grabs her purse and leaves.
“Good riddance,” I mutter.
“Sorry about that,” he says.
I slash my hand in front of me. “Hey, you can’t control what others say.”
“So? Your day?”
“Ah. It’s Kenneth. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear about it.”
For a moment, his mouth forms a hard line. But then he says, “Don’t assume to know what I want or don’t want to hear. What happened?”
“He wants to control what I do.” I explain what happened.
When I finish, he laughs. “Well, he’s right.”
Narrowing my eyes, I disagree with him. “Just because I stop for a drink doesn’t mean a thing.”
“But it does, because you’re cavorting with me. And I want to fuck you. Have for months.”
After I close my mouth, because it’s hanging wide open, I say, “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“It’s not like I’ve hidden my desires from you. All you had to do was take a peek below the beltline.”
Not willing to discuss this right now, I ask, “Why were you such an ass to me earlier?”
“I wasn’t.” His blunt reply leaves me even more curious than before.
“Yes, you were. You’ve never acted like that before. And I have to say, it hurt my feelings.”
He angles his body in his seat so he can face me square on. “Let’s talk about hurt feelings. How do you think I felt finding out you were engaged by reading it in the paper? The least you could’ve done was given me the courtesy of a phone call. I thought after all the time we spent together, we were better friends than that.”
He’s right. I hang my head in shame. He deserved more than what I gave him. “I’m sorry. I did you wrong, and I’ll own that. But, it’s … complicated.”
“Jenna,” he begins, his voice all scratchy, “everything is always complicated with you.” Long fingers, with nails stained in oil, wrap around my wrist. And suddenly, I know what it is I want. I want more Brandon. I want this—us. Stained nails and everything.
“I’ve made a mistake.” The words gush out of my mouth.
“A mistake?”
With my lower lip sucked between my teeth, I nod my head like a madwoman, afraid to speak a word. Afraid of what my mouth may reveal.
“What do you mean?” he prods.
Grabbing my drink, I down half the thing in a couple of swallows.
“Hey, slow it down there, highness. You’ll be falling off that stool in no time flat if you don’t.”
Inhaling, I say, “I don’t think I’ll fit into the Balfour mold.”
Brandon tilts his head and disagrees. “Oh, come on. You’re a Rhoades. Your family may not have that old legacy money like his does, but you do a damn fine job of holding your own.”
That’s not the real reason I can’t or rather don’t want to marry Kenneth. But I can’t reveal it to Brandon.
“He wants to control me.”
Brandon lets out a deep, husky laugh, one that travels up and down my spine, sending bursts of heat through my veins. “I would, too, Jenna. Boy, would I ever want to control you.” His eyes catch mine, but they don’t release them. They pin me to my seat, and as much as I want to break the contact, I’m powerless under his gaze. He’s right. He would control me because he’s doing one hell of a job of it right now. It even has me squirming and clenching my thighs together. “Any man who wouldn’t want to control you is a damn fool.” He reaches for his glass and takes a swallow. His long, dark lashes brush the tops of his cheekbones, and I want to press my lips there. Why don’t I ever feel this way about Kenneth?
Brandon closes the distance between us and asks, “What is going on right now in that head of yours, Jenna?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met.”
He’s not the first person to tell me that. “I know.”
“So, what are you going to do? Marry Kenneth and be miserable? Or tell him you can’t possibly be Mrs. Balfour because your panties are soaked just thinking about me?”
I down the rest of my drink. Brandon is right. My panties are soaked.
“Well?” he as
ks.
Shifting my gaze back to pale blue eyes, something comes over me. Perhaps it’s the alcohol in combination with the surge of lust, or maybe it’s just stupidity. Whatever it is, it has me imagining fisting his soft cotton T-shirt and pulling him toward me until our lips touch. I can almost feel the press of mine to his, but it’s not nearly enough. The desire to push my tongue through the slit of his mouth, to experience the heat inside and hear him groan when I do is almost … almost unbearable. If not for him calling my name, I would’ve made a complete fool of myself.
“Jenna.”
Jolting, and bringing myself out of my fantasy, I answer, “Huh?”
He stands, saying, “It’s best if I leave. Regrets are not something neither of us needs to deal with right now.”
Watching him stride away leaves me feeling emptier than I can remember. Even though I’ve never kissed him before, it’s the imagined taste of him on my tongue that has me missing him the most. And what’s worse is I want him with every molecule in my body. But I’m engaged to be married to another man. What the hell am I going to do, and how did I get myself in this mess?
Fourteen
Brandon
The look in Jenna’s eyes right before I bolted makes me want to ink her name in my skin, but attraction was never our problem. What I will not do is kiss another man’s woman. Even if just seeing her has me adjusting myself in my pants.
“Hey, didn’t expect to see you out here alone.”
A glance back has me seeing red. The woman is more stunning than I gave her credit for when she came onto me in the bar. She’s another one of those females a little too polished for me. I seem to attract women who want some fantasy to take to their beds, but never home to meet their mothers.
“Yeah, being alone isn’t a bad thing,” I say.
She saunters over on swaying hips that beg to be grasped, wearing shoes that make us eye to eye when she’s right in front of me.
“But why be alone when you don’t have to?” she purrs.
“I’ll have to take your word for it, because tonight my bed is open only for single occupancy.”
One Wrong Choice (A Cruel and Beautiful Book Book 3) Page 10
