One Wrong Choice (A Cruel and Beautiful Book Book 3)

by A. M. Hargrove

  As soon as I walk in the door at work, my boss, Helen, jumps on my ass. She can be a royal bitch, too.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she asks.

  “I, uh, had some business to take care of.” Her gaze runs up and down me, the way a man’s would, and I can almost hear her thoughts.

  “Yeah, I’m sure you did. I want to see the artwork you received from the graphic artist on our brochures, and what do you have for me on the press releases? I approved the media kit last week, and I’ve gotten nothing back from you since.”

  My hands fumble in my purse as I dig for my phone as I move toward my office. “I’ll have it for you in a minute,” I say over my shoulder. Shit, I have to get scrambling. It’s not that I don’t have it. It’s just that I’m ill-prepared. Too much cock brain here.

  I boot up my computer and hunt down the email from our graphic designer. All the files are here—she sent them last week, but I never even looked at them, I’m ashamed to say. The brochure options all look amazing. I’ll give Helen the job of choosing which one to go with. That should appease her.

  Next, I check the press release I wrote last week, just to make sure everything is in order. I don’t want any pesky typos to show up so Helen won’t bring her wrath down upon me and ruin my post-coital bliss. A grin covers my face as I think of Brandon’s cock sliding in and out of me.

  “What are you thinking of over there? I hope our brochures aren’t putting that kind of smile on your face.” I jump at Helen’s voice. Her high-pitched tone scares the hell out of me.

  “Oh, well, the yachts are pretty sexy, you know.” My face must be as pink as the head of Brandon’s cock.

  “Don’t get any ideas there, Ginger.”

  Is she getting dementia? Who the hell is Ginger? “What?” I ask.

  “You know, the sexpot from that old show, Gilligan’s Island. But then again, you’re probably too young to remember her.”

  I chuckle and wave my hand, saying, “Oh, yeah. I remember her,” when in actuality I have no clue to whom she’s referring.

  “So, whatcha got for me?” She stands with her hands on her hips, tapping the toe of her high-heeled shoe.”

  “Come look. They’re gorgeous, and I’ll let you pick the ones you like the best.”

  She walks around to my side of the desk and hovers over me. Grabbing my mouse, she scrolls and examines each one. After a few minutes, she agrees they’re all great.

  “Let’s go with these two.”

  “Two?” I’m a little more than surprised. We had a long argument over how we could only have one brochure not three weeks ago and now she wants two. This woman is beyond difficult to please.

  “Yes, that’s what I said. They both tap into different things. This one hits the current owner that we could entice on coming over to tour other yachts and other activities that will be going on at the marina, and this one,” she taps her finger on my computer screen, “hits the casual boat lover that may or may not know a thing about yachts.”

  Currently, I’d like to pull all my hair out. That’s the exact thing I tried to tell her when we argued.

  “Perfect. I’ll tell the graphic designer we’re a go on these. And hang on,” I open up the press release, “here’s the release.”

  She reads it and gives it her approval. “Get that out today, along with the press kit, and hopefully the final artwork will be ready for the printer soon.”

  The rest of my afternoon runs fairly smooth, except for Kenneth’s phone call. He wants to talk, so I tell him I’ll call him later.

  It’s after six when I’m able to leave work, so I call Kenneth, as promised. Apparently, Horace called him and told him about Brandon and me. Kenneth’s nearly crying over the phone.

  “I don’t know why you’re so upset. It’s not like you don’t have someone on the side.”

  He whines when he says, “But you cheated on me.”

  For real? Who is he kidding? “Um, no, I did not. And look at you casting stones.”

  “But I love you, Jenna.”

  “Man up, Kenneth!” I’m done with the attitude. “Look, I can’t be holding your hand anymore because of your parents. The truth is, Brandon and I just got together. I did not cheat on you. But there is something I need to know. Do I need to get tested for HIV?”

  My eardrum practically ruptures as he screams, “WHAT?”

  “Calm down, Kenneth.” Jeez, I feel like I’m scolding the man.

  He doesn’t answer, but I hear him huffing into the phone.

  “The reason I’m asking is, well, I would think it was obvious. You’ve had sex with men, and maybe I’m taking a leap here, but I would guess Horace isn’t your first.” I decide to wait and see if he’ll fill in the blanks. He doesn’t. Only the sound of his breathing comes back to me. And it’s the noise of a runner putting in at least five miles on a treadmill.

  “Kenneth, are you there?”

  “Yes, Jenna, I’m here. Let me assure you. There is nothing for you to worry about,” he snaps. My God, I’ve pissed him off.

  “I am worried. The HIV rates among homosexuals—”

  “I know what the HIV rates are, dammit. Don’t you think I’m aware of the statistics? Why do you think I was careful to wear protection every time we had sex? And for your information, I’m not a homosexual.”

  Huffing, I say, “Whatever. But, Kenneth, you must also be aware that protection is not a guarantee.”

  “Jenna, I’m not stupid, although you seem to think I am. I do get tested every month.”

  That eases my anxiety over this a little, but the fact remains he hid this part of his life from me. I can’t be overjoyed with him.

  “Fine. I still plan to get tested, but I appreciate you watching out for me. I’ll see you Sunday.” No use in dragging this conversation out longer than necessary.

  “Wait,” he says right before I end the call.

  “What?”

  “You sure you won’t reconsider?”

  “Kenneth, nothing on Earth could make me do that. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  In a softer tone, I go on. “Would it be so bad if your family disowned you? I mean, look at how miserable you are, living a sham of a life. Wouldn’t you be happier in your own skin, doing what you want, even if it meant going it alone?”

  He’s very quiet, but then he says, “I’ve given it a lot of thought. Horace says he’ll help me. But I don’t know. I’m afraid it’ll really hurt them.”

  In a way, I understand. My mom, although not nearly as bad as the Balfours, is pretty crazy when it comes to society things. But I think eventually she would get over it and move on. I could always get my Aunt Kendra to talk some sense into her. She’s as wide open as an Indiana farm field. She’d tell my mom to loosen up her tight ass in a heartbeat.

  “You know they’d get over it. You’re their only son. And your mom wouldn’t want to part with that. After a few months, I’m sure they’d see the error in their ways.”

  “You have no idea what you’re saying. But I won’t tell them. I’ll do as you ask on Sunday, but they’ll think it’s because I decided I didn’t want to get married after all. And about the HIV, I’m clean. Get tested if it will ease your mind, but you’ll see. Everything’s fine.”

  “Thanks, Kenneth.” By the time I hang up, I’m pulling into my driveway. What a day. I can’t wait to talk to Brandon, but I know he’s busy. At least when I do, he’ll be happy about the HIV news. For a little while, I have to admit, there was concern. But I should’ve known better. Mr. Responsible Balfour would’ve seen to it that everything was in order.

  Brandon finally calls, but not until after nine. He’s just finishing up.

  “I think every import in town is having issues, and I’m not sure I’ve made a dent. Dana wasn’t joking. We are so backlogged, it’s not funny. I need to consider upping my staff.”

  “That’s good, though. At least you have business coming in.”

  “You ca
n say that again.” He sounds weary.

  “I won’t keep you. You need to get some rest, and I have a busy week. My boss was all over me when I came in. We’ve got deadlines, so I’ll be tied up the rest of the week.”

  On Friday, Brandon calls and says he was hoping to see me Saturday, but it looks like he’s going to have another long day at the shop. He also forgot his brother has a race on Saturday so he’ll have to bust it to get everything done. The pout I was holding back wins out and takes over. This was the day I had looked forward to.

  “It’s okay.”

  “You don’t sound like you mean it.”

  “No, really.” I try my best to convince him.

  “I’m sorry. If I don’t work, I’ll lose customers over this.”

  “Brandon, I get it. Do you want lunch company?”

  “I would love to say yes, but I’m afraid you’ll be a distraction. Besides, I’m going to have to work straight through lunch today. Can we plan on seeing each other on Sunday? We can spend all day together.”

  “Fine, but don’t forget I have Sunday dinner at my parents’ house.”

  “I haven’t forgotten. Call me when you leave, and I’ll meet you at your place.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Jenna?”

  “Yes.”

  “I miss you and that sweet body of yours.”

  “Dammit. Why’d you go and say that? Now I’m going to be all horny and everything.”

  “Guess you have to use that pocket rocket of yours.”

  “Little good it’ll do. Not nearly as good as big boy.”

  “Big boy?”

  “Yeah, you know. Your cock.”

  His deep laughter fills my ears. “You can call him Brutus if you like.”

  I spit out my laughter. “Brutus?”

  “Yeah, because he’s a beast.”

  Still chuckling, I say, “You’ll get no argument from me there, but I think I can tame that beast.”

  “Jenna,” his voice is deep and raspy, sending thrills up and down my spine, “you already have.”

  Thirty-One

  Brandon

  As paperwork won’t do itself, I’m stuck at my desk, placing orders, filing away so when tax time comes, I’ll be prepared.

  When my office door opens, I don’t look up, assuming it’s Jeff or Dana.

  “Brandon.”

  My fingers automatically tighten around the pen I’m holding. I take a minute to breathe before sticking it behind my ear to balance it there. Glancing up, I see the man Mom claims is my father, even though he’s never acted like one.

  “Cole,” I say coldly.

  “I guess I deserve that,” he says, stepping further in the room.

  What he deserves is me telling him to get the fuck out. Because of my brother, I bite back those words.

  “What do you want?”

  “Didn’t Braedon tell you I was coming into town?”

  Damn, I’d forgotten that.

  “He did.”

  The man before me is a shinier version than the one I remember from childhood. Dad came from money so green you can smell it on him, even now. However, he’d been one to buck the rules growing up. So when he’d blown through his trust fund, his parents cut him off, forcing him to slum it for a while, all in the name of teaching him a lesson. Too bad he hadn’t been the one to pay the price for that lesson—we were.

  During his years of living like most of the world did from paycheck to paycheck, he met Mom. Beautiful as she is, he fell hard for her, or in lust more likely. He used his golden tongue to charm her and knock her up while making all kinds of promises for the future.

  It didn’t last. When my grandfather learned he had a terminal illness, he wanted his son back in the fold. And Dad all too easily left us behind, but not for good. He came back at some point, with a check and legal documents his father put together, to keep Mom quiet about his indiscretions. Only he also planted the seed that would later become my brother, or that’s how Mom explained it.

  Broken-hearted and naïve, she’d taken the money because Dad promised her he’d return permanently when his father passed on. The money afforded her to buy the small house we grew up in and nothing more. Only he didn’t come back and never gave her a dime after that.

  His voice brings me out of my thoughts.

  “There’s someone I want the two of you to meet.”

  I just stare at the man. He hadn’t been around much when we were growing up. A few hookups with Mom here and there, but he’d never really come around to see us, or rather, me.

  “I’m really busy. Talk to my assistant about my schedule.” When he stupidly glances around, I add, “Oh, that’s right. I don’t have one. So show yourself the door.”

  “Look, Brandon, you and I both know you don’t really like me all that much. However, your brother asked me to come. I’m here to see him race this weekend. The least we can do is be cordial to one another.”

  There has to be something else. Though as he stands here with a sincere expression, I think about my optimistic little brother.

  “Fine.”

  “Good, I’ll text you the details for dinner on Sunday.” He starts to turn. “And if you don’t mind, wear something with long sleeves.”

  He walks out, and I gaze at my ink. I hadn’t meant to agree to dinner, only to be decent to him in public. Next thing, he’ll ask me to remove the small gauges from my ears.

  Before I can think of a way to tell him to fuck off when he texts later, Braedon texts me first.

  Braedon: Heard from Dad. Glad things are cool.

  All the fire leaves my throat, because if Jenna owns one half of my heart, my brother owns the other. The things I do for my family.

  I work at a steady pace the rest of the day, making somewhat of a dent in the backlog. Eventually, I call it a night. I text Jenna, giving her an out because it’s late. However, she arrives at the house a few minutes after me.

  She’s fucking sexy, and greedily I take her in my arms, ready to get her out of her clothes.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey back.”

  I lean in for a kiss, when my brother’s voice puts the brakes on things.

  “Jenna,” he says from somewhere behind us.

  She cranes her neck around before turning to face him.

  “Braedon.” She grins at him.

  My brother is too nice to hold a grudge. He grins back at her.

  “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  Her jaw drops, and finally she says, “I’m no longer engaged.”

  “Does that mean you’re the reason my brother has been smiling lately? Because if you’re not, then please don’t fuck around with him. He’s been in a shit mood for months, and he’s finally not.”

  Jenna swings her head around to stare at me. I close my eyes and rub at my temples.

  “Well,” Braedon says, not letting go of the issue.

  “Brae, please—”

  “Yes,” Jenna interrupts. “Brandon and I are together now. And I’d like to think I’m the one that’s put the smile on his face.”

  The urge is too strong after hearing her speak those words; I spin her around and take matters into my own hands. I cup her face and indulge us both with a deep kiss.

  Her hand tightens on my bicep. I pull back for just a second.

  “Now if you’ll excuse us,” I say to my brother as I lead her to my room.

  “Eager, are you?” She giggles once the door closes behind us.

  “I think I’ll chafe my hands if I can’t be inside you for another day.”

  Her smile is nothing short of glorious, but it doesn’t beat the one she gives me after I’ve made her come twice. As we face each other on our sides, I trail a finger from her face down over her hip as I admire her gorgeous body.

  I meet her eyes as she says, “I can’t believe you made me wait so long for this.”

  She’s teasing for sure, but we both know she’s not the one who wai
ted. It’s probably not the time, but I find myself asking anyway.

  “What are we doing here?”

  Quick-witted, she says, “Duh, cuddling after I made you yell. You really shouldn’t be so loud. We surely made your brother blush.”

  I hadn’t yelled, but I joke anyway, “Or he beat off.”

  We laugh, and the sound is good.

  “Did you mean what you said earlier about us being together?” I ask.

  “We’re together now, you and me in your bedroom. Not to mention you got me off in the most spectacular way.”

  She has no idea how spectacular she is. She takes my dick and begs for more. As good as that part of us is, I want more. The possessive side of me wants to mark her as mine to the world.

  “You’re seeing your parents on Sunday. This thing with Kenneth will finally be put to rest. I assume we’ll be able to go out in public soon.”

  She rolls to her back and away from me.

  “Brandon, you just don’t understand. There’s a lot of pressure on me. I don’t need you adding to it.”

  I nod, rolling to mirror her position. “I get it. No problem. At least we are moving in the right direction.”

  “What’s that?” she asks, removing her hand from over her eyes. She’d hidden herself as she’d spoken seconds before.

  Taking a page out of her snark book, I surprise myself with my words.

  “From friends to fuck buddies.” I laugh, but there’s nothing funny.

  She sits up and glares at me. “That’s not fair.”

  I shake my head, agreeing with her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Look, I’ve got a lot going on with work. And there never seems to be enough time in the day. And I can’t sleep for shit these days. Forget I said anything, and let me make you something to eat.”