The Barrett Brothers Collection

by K B Cinder

  “Yep. A canceled wedding, a string of shit dates, and a job I hate. Those sure don't sound like the things fairy tales are made of.”

  She perked up. “Can you imagine how bored you'd be if everything in your life went perfectly? Like oh poo. I'm married to a millionaire, and my sex life is great, and I have the perfect job. Wah.” She took another hasty swig of wine. “You'd still be popping benzos and having panic attacks in the shower like the rest of us. Don't kid yourself.”

  “Well, aren't you a ball of sunshine?” The mood soured and her angst hung in the air like cheap hair spray. “I'd like to think I'd be happy eventually. You're not happy?”

  “I am, and I love them more than anything, but I also hate my job and occasionally want to whack my husband over the head with a hammer. It's called balance.”

  “Every relationship has its moments.”

  “Yeah, well, we won’t have anymore together if you get murdered by some internet freak.”

  “I won't get murdered. I promise.” I reached out and patted her thigh.

  She turned her attention back to the app. “Have you met anyone on here?“

  “I've sorted out some weeds, but I've been talking to someone.”

  “Have you met him yet?” she asked, raising a brow.

  “No. I'm trying to get a feel for him first.”

  She smiled, and I could tell she was warming to the idea. “What do you think of him so far?”

  “He's a nice guy.”

  She smiled, crossing her long legs. “What's his name?”

  Shit. If she was freaked before, she would fly into a complete panic if she found out the truth, but it was now or never. “I don't know his first name yet.”

  “WHAT?” She looked at me like an alien speaking in tongues.

  “That's part of the mystery. No names until you meet.”

  I had to admit that I wasn't initially a fan, but the idea grew on me. I doubted I'd willingly sext with a Hubert or a Chester.

  “Oh, that's bullshit!”

  “I like it. It removes another level of bias people may have. I'd likely never go on a date with another Justin again, even if he was a sweetheart.”

  “What's his screen name or whatever?”

  “You're going to laugh.”

  She reddened. “Oh God. Hit me, sister.”

  “Bear.”

  “Bear? Are you sure you're not on a furry app?” she cackled.

  “I thought the same thing...” I couldn't help but crack a smile since it had definitely crossed my mind more than once.

  “And you're sure...?” she trailed, raising a brow.

  “I'm positive. He's not into that stuff.”

  After our chats, I knew he was into me, not people in furry suits. That, or he was talented at faking it.

  She leaned back, eyeing my phone. “Or hairy men?”

  “No. He exclusively prefers the kitty.” I thought the same and pushed him on it, discovering he was anything but well-versed on gay terms. As obvious as it was to someone like me who lived in West Village in college, the poor guy hadn’t had a clue.

  She shook her head with a smile, choking down a laugh. “That's unfortunate. What's yours?”

  “Jewels.” I smiled. My college nickname was the perfect guise for anonymity.

  “Aw!” she cooed. “So tell me about him.”

  He’s a built babe with dick for days. I forced the thought away to keep it PG. “He's funny and easy to talk to. He's into a lot of the same stuff I like too.”

  “Like?” she pushed, never one to settle with just a few scraps of information. Lee was a details person, especially with my love life.

  “Concerts and traveling. He runs too.”

  She smiled. “Job?”

  “He works in management. I'm thinking in finance since he comes across like a numbers guy.”

  “So he's boring?” she teased.

  Her husband, Jesse, was a firefighter who breathed masculinity, making office-dwelling men look plain in comparison. She always picked on me about my choices in men, trying to set me up with guys from the station, but I wouldn’t take the bait. I was too anxious to date a man who risked his life daily. I’d have to check into a psych ward with each call.

  “No, pragmatic like Justin. You know, a details guy.”

  “And you like that?” She looked at me like I was insane.

  “I don't mind it. I have a degree in logistics, remember? And yeah, I’m a little disorganized here and there, but sometimes opposites attract.”

  “And sometimes it results in your fiancé deciding he'd rather date someone as boring as he is.”

  I winced. “Ouch.”

  As much as she was trying to point out the past to prevent another disaster, she was wrong. It took a lot of tears to realize I wasn't to blame for what happened. He was the one to forget what integrity meant.

  “Just giving you some tough love, honey.” She shrugged. “If he reminds you of that jerk, that's not a good sign.”

  Irritation gnawed at my guts. “He doesn't remind me of him. I was only saying I recognized the trait from being around guys like that.”

  I had enough company dinners with his work buddies to spy a numbers guy a mile away, and Bear definitely fit the bill.

  “Does he want a relationship? A fling?”

  “It sounds like he’s open to the real deal.” I glanced back at the drama on-screen and scowled at the all-out catfight. No man was worth coming to blows over.

  “That's good. I want you to be happy and safe.”

  “Me too. Too bad Brianna can't be either.”

  Lee flinched at the television. “I don't know why we watch this shit sometimes.”

  I shrugged, wincing as the hair started flying. “No clue, but that girl has a mean right hook.”

  “I hope the dude was worth it. Her extensions are done for.”

  I hoped Bear would be worth it too, especially if things didn't work out.

  Lee would deliver a told-you-so lecture worse than any on-air bitch-slapping.

  Jason

  After an endless loop of conference calls and customer visits, it was finally the weekend.

  The headaches were back, something I thought I left in the past along with the trauma, but nope, they were merely dormant, waiting for the perfect conditions to strike again. They would always be a reminder of the mistakes I made.

  Close behind were the nightmares, monsters I dealt with on and off for almost five years. Usually, all I needed was a quick walk to clear my mind, though lately, I had to head to the hotel gym to blow off steam when they started their shit.

  The stress was no doubt to blame for the spike in both. I had to keep reminding myself it would all be worth it, a grand prize waiting at the finish line. I would have a national role with only the Board to answer to, one I'd finally be a part of.

  There would be no more Marty. No more surprises from Steve. Just power over Croft's entire sales force and the ability to show the company what I was made of.

  I powered through an exhausting circuit in the gym after work, draining out any stress clinging to my pores. I sweated it out through sprints and crushed it with deadlifts, repeating the cycle until I could barely walk.

  I left my laptop at the office, refusing to look at anything work-related over the weekend for once. It was not my style, but I was doing a lot of strange things and didn't want to be bothered with the bullshit.

  A little birdie told me the changes had to do with a Privately pal with perfect tits, and as I discovered, an ass that looked amazing in shorts. When I wasn't sending filthy thoughts, I lusted after her words, anxiously awaiting each zinger.

  As I entered the bedroom with a towel hung low on my hips, I stopped at the full-length mirror, snapping a pic of my reflection from the neck down, hiding my tattoo.

  The beads of water hit the light just right, and I was satisfied with my one-snap success. I sent it off to Jewels and flopped down on the bed, exhaustion pulling me in. The matt
ress felt like a cloud, more comfortable than my top of the line mattress at home.

  Time was ticking on selling the house in Tampa, however, and the thought made me sick. I toyed with renting it out to hold on, but it would be too much hassle in the long run. I wasn't planning on returning to Tampa, so the sale was a no-brainer.

  I searched the market for months, finding the perfect bachelor pad in the form of an ultra-modern home blocks from the bay. Three-thousand square feet of black quartz and crisp lines made me tear up upon my first walk-through. Going from a bungalow in Maine to a luxury home in Florida would do that to any man, especially one who was homeless in the past.

  Before Nan and Pops found out about the incubator's drinking, I was shuffled from motel to motel with my brothers, spending weeks sleeping in cars when she drank the money they sent. As far as they knew, she was still staying in the trailer playing mom. She neglected to mention she lost it to foreclosure, funding her drinking with their generosity rather than the mortgage.

  I slipped one Easter and told Pops she bought booze with the last check they sent. He confronted her, and she took off with us, beating the hell out of me when she got the chance. All it took was my black eye and a few broken ribs, and the school made sure we didn't go back.

  We had the world's best grandparents, taking all three of us boys in and never looking back. The incubator tried to move in too, using every sob story in the book, but as Nan always said, tough titties.

  Eventually, she met a trucker and headed west, dying from her poison of choice right after I started at Croft. Nan and Pops were gone by then, and as the oldest child, it was my job to make arrangements.

  I vomited when I saw her, not a shred of the former beauty left, her blonde hair stringy, matted, and streaked with blood. She once again had too much; only this time, she fell, and no one was there save her. She lived and died helpless, strong enough to lift a bottle to her lips but not enough to love her boys more than herself.

  As much as it killed me to see my mother in such a state, I was glad I was the one there and not my brothers. I remembered her when she was sober, unlike they did, but I knew the sight would be too much for them, especially Ethan. He loved her through it all like the little ones always did.

  At twenty-five, I paid out my ass to have a beautiful service for her back home. I didn't do it for her. I did it for Luke and Ethan. I wanted them to have a final send-off, whether she deserved it or not.

  The whole town showed up, allegedly mourning, but judging her all the way to hell. Like a car crash, they couldn't look away from what had become of the Barretts. The fake sympathy and looks of pity were the last drops of fuel needed to never return to that place.

  I was content knowing my brothers and I were safe and had all made it. I was on track to clear a million annually, Luke owned his own automotive shop, and Ethan was raking it in big time in Boston. The little shit earned millions through trading, not even breaking a sweat as he scored deals that made my ass pucker.

  I wondered if Jewels had that same tenacity. Did she know what it felt like to go to bed hungry and wake up the same? Or was she from a privileged background like Bianca, always demanding the best without working for it? Would she turn tail and run to the next big wallet when she was told no?

  As I stared at the ceiling running through endless questions, I drifted off, mind and body spent. The soft cushion of feathers carried me off into the dream world, mind hyper-focused on Jewels.

  I dreamed of our first date, finally meeting one another after months of back and forth. I desperately tried to sort out her face, jumbling a mishmash of eyes, noses, and lips together to no avail.

  There she sat, dressed in a plunging navy dress with white beading around the neckline, highlighting those beautiful breasts, pouring forth like two creamy mountains of silky skin.

  As we spoke, my history came pouring out no matter how much I tried to swallow it down, revealing my deepest and darkest secrets without missing a beat. I was shell-shocked, floored that I so flippantly uncovered things I buried long ago. She didn't pity my life or look at me with puppy dog eyes. She listened. She thanked me.

  As we chattered back and forth, I had a sinking feeling in my gut it wasn't just a fling. She was everything I ever wanted, and it scared the hell out of me. More so when her face finally stopped shuffling, settling on that of Elena.

  I jerked awake, heart pounding and chest heaving.

  I glanced over at the blinking notification light on my phone and realized the dream hadn't woken me–the phone had. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm down as I swiped the screen.

  Jewels: Well, hello there.

  I forgot about my scandalous snap.

  Bear: How are you tonight, Jewels?

  Jewels: Great. Bestie just left. Thanks for the ball-busting. Reality TV isn't that bad.

  Bear: It is.

  Jewels: How was work?

  Bear: Busy. Never too busy for my Jewels, though.

  Jewels: Well, from the photo, I can tell you're not messaging me from your desk again.

  I grinned. I made the late nights in the office more tolerable by chatting between reports.

  Bear: Nope. I left everything at work this weekend. No laptop. No reports.

  Jewels: What???

  Bear: I wanted to give you my undivided attention ;)

  I also wanted to meet her, but I had to plant the seed carefully.

  Bear: What are you up to this weekend? The Sixth Street Carnival only has two weekends left :)

  The weekly festival popped up each Friday in the blocks around the hotel, offering the perfect place for a first date.

  Jewels: Babysitting my bestie's little ones tomorrow into Sunday.

  Well, there went that idea.

  Bear: Bummer. I'm going to check out more local spots if the weather cooperates.

  Jewels: The leaves change soon. Take a camera if you can.

  Bear: I'll keep that in mind. Running with a camera doesn't seem like fun, though.

  Jewels: It's worth it. Or you could just use your cell.

  Bear: Speaking of checking things out, I've decided that I would like to meet you if that's alright.

  There it was. I dropped the bomb, and there was no taking it back.

  Jewels: That's alright with me, stud.

  I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding in.

  Bear: A) Great, B) You don't know that I'm a stud. I could look like a foot.

  Jewels: Something tells me that's incorrect.

  Bear: You'll have to wait and see. What do you say Colby's at 7 next Saturday?

  Jewels: Colby's? Fancy.

  Bear: I've heard great things. Don't like?

  I thought I hit it out of the park with that place. It looked great from the reviews, and Nate had raved about it when I took the Ithaca gig.

  Jewels: Never been.

  Bear: Me neither. It'll be another first for us together.

  Jewels: Swoon much?

  Bear: I try, I try.

  We spent the better part of an hour ribbing each other back and forth, from her reality television habit to my old man sleeping schedule. I laughed, enjoying our banter. I wasn't fussing over things I couldn't control, living in the moment and enjoying Jewels instead. I couldn't spend my life worrying about what could happen.

  I rarely looked forward to the week ahead, but I was more than ready to hop on the workweek treadmill to chase the weekend again.

  Elena

  Exhaustion was the look of the day after a weekend of hyper children and sharing a sleeper sofa with an overweight Labrador. Coffee was the only thing that would get me through the marathon meetings scheduled first thing Monday morning.

  Over a dozen managers flew in from around the country, offering different areas of expertise. Per Marty, each visitor would talk to us over the coming week, building up our skills, making us a stronger unit. I wanted to ask him if he would sit in for the training too, but I kept my mouth shut.

 
Barrett introduced them to us one by one, giving a snippet of each man's background. Compared to the others, he was eons ahead, interacting with a grace I'd never have. He was in his element, mingling with the most powerful leaders in the company without breaking a sweat.

  Meanwhile, Marty was dripping with it as he fumbled over his words and clutched a mug as if his life depended on it, red-faced and frantic when anyone looked his way.

  Once they disappeared, I made a mad dash for the break room, hellbent on getting a caffeine fix before the masses hogged all the creamer. I wasn't settling for black coffee without a fight.

  I was relieved to find the cramped space empty with several pots full of freshly brewed coffee courtesy of some amazing soul. At least someone in the office was becoming mindful of others. Usually, Lee and I were the only two that made full pots at a time.

  I poured a cup and grabbed the creamer, grateful to find it half-full for a change. For once, I hadn't fallen victim to a jerk putting it back empty.

  As I stirred away, I could hear footsteps behind me, so I hurried, the coffee line surely coming full force. I wasn't going to get trapped in our tiny galley kitchen by a stampede of office cattle if I could avoid it.

  “Good morning, Elena.”

  I froze. What the hell?

  “Hello, Mr. Barrett.” I turned and offered a weak smile, instantly on alert like a mouse awaiting the inevitable snap of a trap on my neck.

  He offered a smile back, and my knees wobbled. While he was handsome being a brooding jerk, he was devastating with a smile.

  Dressed in a dark blue suit with a crisp white button-down, he looked straight off the cover of a magazine. The suit highlighted his piercing eyes, putting all focus on his face, equal shares of handsome, masculinity, and sex appeal mixed into one.

  If his looks alone hadn't walloped me enough, his cologne blanketed the room in its warmth as he strolled over to the counter behind me.

  I turned, suddenly fascinated with my coffee as if it held all life's secrets.