The Trouble With Love: New York Times Bestselling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  “You could’ve killed me,” I gasp.

  “You pulled me toward you.” He’s still laughing, shoulders shaking.

  “I was falling. It was an immediate response.”

  “To make me fall with you?”

  “Isn’t that the way it usually happens?” Our laughter fades, our previous amusement replaced with something else, something real and scary and uncontrollable. Bennett holds my gaze as he picks up my hand and kisses the back of it before pushing himself up. He fixes his jacket as he looks down at me.

  “As much as I’d like to continue to explore this right now, we have to be out of our rooms in ten minutes. I’m going to pick up the key while you pack.”

  I nod, unable to form words, and watch as he walks out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty

  “What are you thinking about now?” Bennett asks. “Second thoughts?”

  He’d taken our bags up to the suite while I called Mr. Cruz to talk about a potential client he sent me an email about, so I didn’t even get to see it, and now we’re on our way to a music show he got us tickets for and I’m trying to push down every insecurity blooming inside of me. I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to figure out how to say something without sounding like an idiot. After a few seconds, I decide honesty is always the answer.

  “I don’t want to lose my job at SEVEN over this.”

  “What? I would never . . .” His expression falls. “Morgan, I’m not your boss. I know it may feel like that, but you report to my father. If this makes you uncomfortable because you feel like I can take opportunities away, we won’t go there. I never want you to feel like that.” His brows pull together. “I would never do anything to hurt you. Hell, every time I look at you, I hear warning bells ringing in my head because of Devon. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.”

  “No. I want this. I mean, I one-hundred-percent want this.” I stop walking and tug his hand so he stops with me. I don’t care that a sea of people are walking around us in order to get to the show on time. I want to make sure we’re on the same page about this. “I know this isn’t a relationship, but I don’t want whatever happens these next few days to mess anything up between us, especially in the office.”

  “It won’t.” His brows are still pulled together though. A part of me wonders if I’ve brought too many concerns to him at once and he’s going to call the whole thing off and agree that this is a bad idea. Maybe it’s the worst idea, but I want him more than any idea—good, bad, or mediocre—that I’ve had in the past year.

  I squeeze his hand. “I like that you have warning bells when it comes to me and you find them difficult to ignore.”

  “Impossible to ignore.” He hesitates for a beat, eyes bouncing between mine, but then he steps closer, bringing his lips to mine in a soft yet toe-curling kiss. When he pulls back, I grip his muscular biceps, wishing he would just keep kissing me. He smiles. “We have a show to get to.”

  * * *

  He holds my hand throughout the entire show, while I marvel at everything on the stage and bob my head to The Beatles. I don’t know how much of the show he catches, but every time I turn to look at him, I catch him staring at me, and each time, I blush deeper. Thankfully, the lights are dim. Every once in a while, he leans in and sings in my ear, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. When it’s over, we both give a standing ovation to the performers and walk out singing the final song.

  “That was amazing.”

  “It was worth seeing the smile on your face and the way your eyes get like saucers every time they do a stunt.”

  I laugh. “Did you even catch any of the show?”

  “You were the show.” He grins.

  “Corny.” I roll my eyes, but I swear my face is on fire. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “It was my pleasure.” He takes hold of my hand again as we walk through the lobby. He nods toward the casino. “You play?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Not really.” I shrug a shoulder.

  “I guess growing up here means you’re not impressed by any of it?”

  “Yes and no. I didn’t really get a chance to experience it the way everyone who comes here does.”

  “All the more reason to try your luck on a slot machine.”

  “Oh, what the heck. One time won’t kill me.”

  Bennett chuckles, pulling me toward the biggest machine in the casino. He puts something in it and tells me to pull the lever. I put all my force into it.

  “Careful, Cupid. We want to win, not owe the casino a new machine.” He winks. I laugh because I know it would take a lot more than my puny arms to break this thing. I stand back and watch beside him as the items on the screen roll into a slow stop. It blinks the lights and says I won five dollars.

  “I won.” I gasp and jump up, clapping my hands together.

  “Five dollars.” He chuckles as I do a shimmy.

  “Five dollars more than I had when I played that!”

  He’s still grinning as he wraps his arms around me and kisses me. “You’re so fucking cute, Cupid.”

  “And so rich,” I whisper against him.

  He laughs harder.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I’m dying to go back to the suite, but Bennett insists that we need to go get dinner and drinks first. We won’t experience Vegas the way he wants me to unless we do, he says, so I agree even though I feel like we just had lunch with Nate, Ryan and Elias.

  “I don’t want to experience Vegas,” I mutter as we wait to be seated at the restaurant. “I want to experience you.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “You already have.”

  “You know what I mean.” I slap his chest lightly.

  He grabs my hand and keeps it there, staring at me. I swear I can get lost in his eyes, amber with specks of a darker brown. Everything about him feels like I’m immersed in something otherworldly.

  “Right this way.” The hostess’s words snap our attention toward her. We follow behind her and sit in a cozy little corner.

  “This is nice.” I smile, thanking her for the menu and Bennett does the same.

  “Tell me the story of your life,” he says as soon as she walks away.

  “What?” I laugh. “The story of my life? Which part?”

  “Any part. All of the parts.”

  We’re interrupted by the waiter, but Bennett orders a bottle of wine for us and dismisses him quickly, returning his eyes to mine.

  “Well, I don’t know where to start,” I say. “Why don’t you tell me the story of your life? That way I know what it is you want me to share.”

  “My parents came from Cuba on a boat, fleeing from a government that was making it impossible for them to prosper. Dad had connections in Miami and went straight to work. Mom got a job at a restaurant, worked long hours, much to Dad’s dismay. When my dad got an opportunity in Jersey, they picked up and left. Mom got pregnant with me, quit the waitressing job she’d gotten there to stay home with me. Dad wanted me to play baseball; I chose football instead. Mom hated it, but she drove me to every game and practice anyway. I did my chores, got straight As, messed around a lot, went to college for football, which my parents thought was absolutely insane.” He chuckles. “I ended up becoming fast friends with a really cool guy who turned out to have a really hot, beautiful, smart younger sister.” He grins when I roll my eyes. “In college I came up with a concept for a company, started it, hired my dad, and the rest is history.”

  “You skipped the part about your psychotic ex-wife.” I smile at the waiter, who’s back with our bottle of wine.

  He shoots me a look like he doesn’t pity me as he pours it. “You look like you’ll be needing more of this than he does, so I’ll start here.”

  I laugh, try the wine and nod my approval. When he walks away, I look at Bennett. “I don’t know shit about wine. It all tastes good to me.”

  He laughs and lifts his glass. “To this moment
.”

  “To this moment.” I smile, take a sip and set it down. “You were getting to the part about your ex-wife.”

  He sighs heavily. “There’s not much to tell. I met Paola our junior year of college. Never imagined getting married, but somehow it seemed like the next step. Everyone else was doing it, so we did. I was starting the company, so I didn’t pay as much attention to her as she wanted. She said she wanted kids, we tried for two years, it didn’t work, and she ended up getting pregnant anyway.” He lifts his glass and an eyebrow. “Not with mine.”

  “No.” I gasp.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yup.” He shakes his head. “We separated a little over a year ago. The divorce was quick because—despite all the wrenches she tried to throw—my lawyers were ready. I mean, she was fucking pregnant with another man’s kid.”

  “Jeez, Bennett. I’m sorry.” I feel my shoulders sag. “Why do people suck so bad?”

  “Human nature, free will, too many options available to us, the Internet, take your pick.”

  “Well,” I take another sip and set my glass down, leaning forward. “My ex-fiancé fucked my mother.”

  “You’re serious?” He stares. Blinks. Stares.

  “Dead serious.” I nod, pressing my lips together. “It sounds crazy when I say it aloud. I don’t think I ever have.”

  “You’ve never told anyone that?”

  “Nope.”

  “Not even Dev?” He frowns. I shake my head. “Not even your friends?”

  “Only you.” I bite my lip. “Well, maybe another person. I can’t remember.”

  “Hopefully not the app guy.”

  “Maybe the app guy. I can’t remember.”

  He watches me. “Was your ex the reason you were crying the other night?”

  “No.” I feel myself make a face. “I wouldn’t waste my tears on him. I’m mad enough I wasted them on her.”

  “Will she be at Devon and Nora’s wedding?”

  “Probably.” I sigh.

  “Does he know you hate her?”

  “Yeah. I mean, he has issues with her too, to a point, but he had more happy years with her than I did. I guess he’s able to cling to those easier than I am.”

  “She visited New York once when we were in college,” Bennett says, a thoughtful look on his face. “He wouldn’t let her come to our apartment. I always thought it was odd, but it wasn’t my place to ask questions. I saw her again once when we were in LA and she was in rehab. He didn’t explain and I didn’t ask. I just drove him there and waited.”

  “Yeah, well, if your mother was an addict, a whore, and a madam, I don’t think you’d want her around your friends either. Especially when your friends are all well-rounded and have nice, normal families.”

  “What do you mean a madam?” His eyes widen.

  “Right.” I pause, taking a sip of my wine. I’ve never had to explain this to anyone, so I don’t even know where to start. I try anyway. “She worked in a bank when my dad was still at home. Regular nine-to-five job. Then Dad left and before we knew it, there were women in and out of the house all the time, and lo and behold, Mom was their boss.”

  “That’s . . . interesting. I’m assuming it bothered you.”

  I shrug. “Not really. The women were very kind to me. It didn’t really start bothering me until a little later.”

  “Did she want you to get into the business, so to speak?”

  “Who knows.” I laugh at the absurdity of it all. “How’s that for normal?”

  “Nobody’s normal.” Bennett chuckles. “All families have issues, though I have to say yours is definitely at the end of that spectrum. What about your father?”

  “Left when I was ten.” I blink rapidly, hoping to clear the tears threatening to blur my vision. I clear my throat. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not usually an emotional mess. It’s this place.”

  “Stop apologizing.” He reaches for my hand over the small table and a sense of calm washes over me as he holds it. “You said ex-fiancé. I want to go back to that.”

  “Of course you do.” I smile, taking a sip of my wine and pausing to thank the waiter as he offers a basket of bread. Bennett orders a couple of samplers for us to share, making sure I’m okay with it. I nod and thank him because I’m not even hungry, but I know I have to pick at something if I’m going to continue drinking this wine.

  “So, ex-fiancé.”

  “This part, Dev does know about,” I say, remembering the way my brother showed up on Justin’s doorstep, dragged me out, and tried to talk me out of the engagement. “Honestly, there’s not much to tell. I was with him a couple of years and decided during a drunken night to get engaged. Dev warned me that he was a douchebag.” I pause. “This was before I found out he’d fucked my mother. He was cheating on me with all of her . . . employees,” I say.

  “Wow.”

  “As much as I hate her for, well, so many things, I’ve come to terms with that aspect of her life, but only because Dev didn’t have to worry about having messed-up cleats when he was playing high school football,” I say. “So, despite everything, she really tried. I can see that. At least Devon got out of here, made a name for himself.”

  “Is that why you got engaged when he was away? To get away from your mother?”

  “I guess I wanted to believe love was something other than what I saw day in and day out at home. Justin went to high school with me. He was one of the smart ones, all gifted classes, always treated me like a princess. I never saw the signs.”

  Bennett squeezes my hand tighter. “He was an idiot.”

  “He was.” I smile.

  “And now you’re hoping in taking away the veil and having people feel like they can be honest with each other, they’ll have a higher chance of finding love?”

  “I just don’t see why it’s not something that can happen for everyone.”

  “It’ll happen for you,” he says.

  “Careful, Trouble. You don’t want me to think you’re going soft.”

  He winks. “I’m hard where it matters.”

  That makes me laugh loudly. This guy.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Tell me another one of your bad memories,” he says as we’re walking through the lobby.

  “Right now? I’m having such a great time though. My stomach is full of food and my veins are overflowing with wine.” I sway a little, revealing just how much wine, and giggle when Bennett’s hand tightens around my waist. “Sorry.”

  He pulls me closer so that my head is against his chest and his chin is on my head as we walk.

  “I just want one more bad memory so I can replace it with one good one,” he murmurs. I stop walking suddenly, looking up at him.

  “Bennett.” My voice is shaky. “That sounds like more than just hooking up.”

  “So we’re going to have sex and not be friends?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I whisper. “I don’t want to get attached.”

  “Do you get attached easily?” He searches my eyes.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before. What if I do?”

  “Hm. We’ll figure it out when we get there.” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear and strokes my jaw with his thumb, his other fingers on the side of my neck. “You’re so beautiful, Morgan. One memory.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whisper. “But this moment right here is replacing at least five bad ones.”

  His lips pull up slightly as he bends toward me and kisses me softly, deeply, with such emotion that it takes my breath away. When he pulls away, I keep my eyes closed, wanting to remember every single moment of the way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing he’d ever held and kissed me in the middle of the casino at the Aria. He’s staring at me when I finally open my eyes, his look making my heart skip a beat.

  “Maybe you can show me that suite now,” I say.

  He simply nods but takes a second before fully pulli
ng away from the moment, as if he’s also cataloging it for his memory bank.

  It’s impossible, I think. He’s probably just tipsier than he thought he was.

  A man like Bennett doesn’t catalog moments with people like me.

  * * *

  The suite is everything I imagined it would be—vast, with a full kitchen, large living room, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the Strip. We leave our suitcases in the living room and explore the rooms—there are two—each with king-size beds and massive bathrooms, but one of the bedrooms has a small swimming pool encased in glass that looks like it’s hanging out of the suite. My eyes widen as I look at it. There’s no way people won’t see us if we’re in there. Even though we’re high up in the tower, there’s a clear view from the hotel across the street as well as the other rooms on this floor. I feel Bennett come up behind me before he puts his arms around me and pulls me to his chest, bringing his mouth down to my neck.

  “I’d kill to see you naked in there.”

  “Hm. Maybe you will.” I turn my head to give him better access to my neck, and he does, nibbling as much as he can with the blouse I’m wearing. I undo the ribbon in the front and turn around to face him as I slowly work my buttons. He steps back, gaze heated, as he watches me. I toss the blouse and unzip my skirt, letting it pool at my feet before kicking it in the same direction.

  “Jesus, Morgan.” He bites down on his lip with a groan, taking a step toward me. “Fuck.”

  He brings his hands up to my shoulders and brings them down the sides of my arms. His touch is soft, but his hands are rough. I shiver at the contrast of it, feeling my nipples harden in the delicate fabric of my ivory bra.

  “You’re overdressed,” I say, my voice a shaky whisper.

  The last time I felt this naked before a man was last year with Bennett. I’ve been entirely bare in front of men in the past and haven’t felt this exposed. It’s the way he looks at me, like he’s trying to read into me, not just stare at my body. I realize, as my heart gets caught in my throat, that this is probably the way he looks at every woman he has sex with, and that should be fine by me, but for some reason jealousy blooms deep inside of me at the thought. It vanishes when he begins to undress, his suit meeting my discarded clothes across the room. As he strips, every movement makes his muscles tighten, making it very apparent that Bennett Cruz did not stop working out when he stopped playing college football. He stands before me like a Greek god, roped in muscles and etched in gold, his black boxer briefs the only item of clothing covering him, and with the size of the bulge in them they are barely covering anything at all. He moves first, offering me a hand, which I take, heart hammering as he tugs me toward the bed. I kick off my heels as I walk, the movement taking four inches off my height and making the distinction between us that much clearer. He’s huge where I’m tiny. He’s muscled where I’m soft, and as I sit on the bed and he leans over me, with one leg between mine, I realize how much I love the contrast. Bringing my arms around his neck, I reach up to kiss him, losing myself in the moment. He moans against my mouth, holding himself up with one hand and bringing the other down to my breast, exploring over my bra at first, and then reaching beneath it and shoving it up to get a handful and tweak my nipples. I move against the leg between mine, seeking relief for the sensation between my legs.