Dating My Brother's Best Friend
Page 12
I moaned helplessly. Fuck, having her in my arms made me feel like everything was right in the whole damn world. There was no place else that felt right, nowhere else I’d rather be. Nobody else I ever wanted in my arms again.
I had no idea how long that lasted. It could’ve been only a few minutes, it could’ve been hours, time didn’t matter anymore. There was only Cass kissing me. Cass in my arms.
At last we pulled back, breathing hard. Cass’s eyes were practically all black, the blue of them just a thin rim around her pupils, her cheeks bright pink and her lips pink and swollen, slick from kissing.
My heartbeat was so loud, ringing in my ears, I was sure she could hear it.
Cass stared at me for a moment, almost like she couldn’t quite get her brain to form proper thoughts, and then her face went pale and she pushed me away, stepping back, trembling.
“We can’t do this,” she insisted. “We can’t, Raff, I need this job. I can’t have things end badly for me, or for both of us. I’m not going to risk my career for this. Or yours. I’m sorry.”
She grabbed her things and ran out of the room, like she was terrified that if she stayed a second longer, she’d give into temptation. I knew the feeling.
Fuck.
What else could I do? I cleaned up the office and organized everything and then I went home.
I was completely unsatisfied. There was no way I was going to settle with that answer. If Cass’d had no interest in me, that would be one thing. But she did want me. Just as I wanted her. I wasn’t going to let our jobs get in the way of that. Sure, there was a risk. But it would be worth it if it meant I got to be with her.
Of course, convincing Cass was obviously going to be more difficult. I couldn’t quite blame her. I was fairly secure in my position. I had proven my value to Parker over the years. I had a lot of experience under my belt that I could take to another company if I chose to leave. And I had left her once before. How could she be certain that I wouldn’t just drop her yet again?
Well, I was going to prove to her that she was my priority this time around. I wasn’t going to lie to her or hurt her. I was going to woo her the way that she deserved. After all, just falling in bed with her wasn’t the best way to prove to a woman that I wanted her in my life permanently. I needed to be romantic. I needed to show her that it wasn’t just her body that I wanted. I wanted all of her. I wanted Cass.
By the time I got home… I was determined to do something. Coming home and walking into my empty apartment yet again was just too much. I was sick of coming home to an empty place, all by myself. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to be with someone here until I’d had Cass walk back into my life but now it was fucking unbearable.
I was going to do something, and I was going to do it tonight.
Glancing at the clock said it wasn’t too late. I could still stop by a place and get some flowers. I took a quick shower to get that office smell off of me and changed into a nicer suit.
I had rarely felt as nervous in my life as I did knocking on Cass’s apartment door. I wasn’t sure how she’d feel about me using my knowledge of her address as her boss to come to her house. Hopefully she would appreciate the surprise and wouldn’t think of it as creepy or a violation of boundaries.
But how was I supposed to do this otherwise? She’d said repeatedly that this was a bad idea. I was going to appear in front of her with flowers and a speech and she’d have to hear me out at least for a minute before rejecting me. This wasn’t about sex. I wanted to be with her in every aspect of my life.
I’d even gotten her some wine, the same kind as one of the many types we’d enjoyed in Rome while on our trip. I cleared my throat, double-checked myself, and then knocked on her door.
18
Cass
We were video chatting with Trevor when there was a knock at the door.
Huh. That was odd. It wasn’t super late, otherwise Chelsea wouldn’t be awake, but it was still an odd hour for someone to be knocking. And I still didn’t really know anyone in this city, so that left only Dawn as the possible visitor. I was a little nervous about answering the door but that was what those little peepholes to show you who your visitor was were for.
“It’s close to bedtime,” I told Chelsea, smiling at Trevor through the screen. “Why don’t you say goodnight to Uncle Trevor while I see who’s at the door, and then we can take a bath, okay?”
“Night, Cass!” Trevor said, waving at me.
“Night, Trev, sleep well, love you!” I left Chelsea with the computer for her to sign off and then went to the front door.
The moment I stared through the peephole, my heart crashed into my stomach.
It was Raff.
Shit, shit, shit!
He knocked again as I watched. “Cass? I know you’re home.”
He did know I was home. The light from the living room was probably visible through the cracks around the sides of the door, and where else was I going to be? I’d said I was going home and so here I was.
I could just yell at him through the door to go away. But that would just lead to more questions. Why wouldn’t I just open the door and tell him? And then Chelsea might want to know what I was doing, or Trevor might ask why I was yelling. He’d be concerned, a woman and her little girl living alone, and that was the last thing I wanted to explain and deal with.
Honestly, if I could avoid Trevor ever finding out about Raff, that would be ideal here. I wouldn’t put it past my brother to fly across the country just so he could break Raff’s nose.
I took a deep breath to steady myself and I opened the door.
“You need to leave,” I told Raff. I hoped he couldn’t tell how hard I was gripping the door handle.
“Can I come inside?” he asked.
I had to admit, he looked amazing. He’d put on a new suit and cleaned up—I was pretty sure he’d taken a shower—and was holding a bouquet of roses and a bottle of wine. I recognized the label; it was one of the wines we’d drunk while in Rome. The one that we’d had with our dinner together, actually, if I was remembering correctly.
Against my will, I found my stomach flipping over. It was a very sweet and romantic picture. He seemed to have gone all out for me. Although…
“How did you get my address?” I asked. “And no, you can’t come inside. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Handsome or no, flowers and wine or no, he couldn’t come in. I couldn’t have him meet Chelsea. And how the hell had he found out where I lived? If this was anyone, anyone at all, other than Raff, I would’ve called the police on them. He was lucky I’d once been in love with him and that I trusted he would never force anything on me.
Raff ignored my question and handed me the flowers and wine. My hands full, tried to juggle both while standing my ground. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late. But I can’t stop thinking about you. I think I gave you the impression that I just want you for sex, and that this is all… a matter of convenience for me. Oh, look, I’m attracted to my secretary, I can just bang her. That kind of thing. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
My heart fluttered a little. I couldn’t help but feel something in response to what he was saying. He’d bought me that same kind of wine we’d shared on our date together, and two dozen red roses. And now he was saying these romantic things to me? Of course, I was affected, who wouldn’t be?
“I want to be with you and not just because of anything physical. Hell, if you want us to put a pause on anything physical while we go on dates and get to see how we work as a couple, I can do that. I admit it won’t be easy.” He gave me a sheepish grin, dark hunger in his eyes as his gaze flicked down my body and then back up again.
My face heated up and I knew my blush was probably evident.
“But I will do that, seriously, if that is what you want.” Raff sobered up a little, the hunger in his eyes fading, replaced by an earnestness that I could feel like a warm blanket around my shoulders. “I’m serious ab
out us. I didn’t give us a proper chance before, and I want to do that now. You’re so smart and educated, you’re levelheaded, I feel like I can depend on you for anything. And I enjoy spending time with you. The fact that I can just walk in silence with you and it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, it feels right, I feel like I can just… be with you and exist with you and it’s how it should be.
“Being together is how it should be. It’s like you’re the missing puzzle piece, the thing that I’ve been waiting for. You’re what I’ve been waiting for. What I was missing in my life. And I know that it won’t be easy. We’re in a tough position. I’m your boss. But I also believe that we can do this. That we can make this happen and we can find a way to overcome the obstacles. We’ll keep it on the down low—”
I had to admit that it got to me, hearing how earnest he was and how much it meant to him. Raff was not a good liar. When he’d pretended that morning after that he couldn’t remember anything from our tryst the night before, I’d known he was lying. But now he was telling the truth. He was serious about this.
My stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. I felt like a teenager all over again, only better, this time getting my romantic daydreams realized. I wanted to believe him. More than that, I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell him that we could do that, that we could take a chance.
But it wasn’t just about me. I wasn’t alone. I had Chelsea to think about and I was not about to open that can of worms. And could I really trust him? He’d been so into me the night we’d hooked up… and then he’d turned around and changed his mind.
On the other hand, we’d slept together several times now. If he really was just interested in having an easy lay in the form of the coworker he was spending a lot of time with already, then he wouldn’t have come here with these gifts, would he? And he wouldn’t have suggested no sex and proper dating.
Still. I had to get him out of here.
“Raff, really—”
“I regret how things went all those years ago,” Raff blurted out. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since. I never stopped. And it feels like this is our second chance. We can do things right this time. I don’t want to lose out on that. I can’t walk away—I’m not going to walk away—without seeing where this connection between us is going.”
“That’s very sweet, but—”
I felt small arms wrapping around my leg and my heart just about stopped. I looked down, and sure enough, my worst fears were realized.
Chelsea was hugging my leg.
She smiled up at me. “Time for bath!” she reminded me.
Fuck.
I looked up at Raff’s face. I could see the stunned expression on it, and I knew he was scrambling. Possibly even putting the puzzle pieces together already. He looked at Chelsea, then at me, then back to Chelsea.
Great. I couldn’t just slam the door in his face now. Well, I could, but that would only make things worse. I felt like I might throw up. “Fine. Come inside.”
“Bath?” Chelsea repeated.
“We’ll do the bath tomorrow morning, okay baby?” I said. I went and set the wine and roses on the kitchen counter, then ruffled her hair. “Why don’t I read you a book and we’ll turn in early. You’ve had a busy day.”
Chelsea’s bottom lip wobbled and I inwardly cursed. She loved bath time. It was a fun time where I sang her songs and we played with rubber duckies, having them go on adventures, and I made her hair into funny shapes using the shampoo. It was a part of our bonding time. But I couldn’t just disappear into the bathroom for half an hour leaving Raff to twiddle his thumbs awkwardly on the couch.
“We can read a story instead,” I said quickly. Reading her one story wouldn’t take very long. Raff could survive that. And I had to get her to bed before we could talk.
Chelsea didn’t seem all that convinced, and I braced myself for a tantrum.
Before Chelsea could say anything, however, Raff crouched down in front of her.
“Hey, what’s your name? I’m Raff, I work with your mom.”
He gave her a big smile and held out his hand for her to shake. Chelsea smiled shyly, delighted to be the center of attention, and shook his hand. “I’m Chelsea.”
“Chelsea, that’s a beautiful name. I love it.” Raff winked at her. “Well, since it’s my fault you’re not getting a bath tonight, how about I read you a story? I promise you I’m a very good guest book reader.”
Chelsea giggled, apparently charmed by Raff’s manner. And I couldn’t blame her. I certainly found him plenty charming myself. Hell, more than charming.
“I’m a champion book reader, I promise,” Raff assured her, and held out his hands. “May I pick you up?”
Chelsea had been held so much all her life, by her grandparents and uncle and myself, that she loved it. “Yes please!” she said eagerly, holding out her arms in return.
Raff picked her up and settled her on his hip. “Mind showing me where the princess’s bedroom is?” he asked me.
“I’m not a princess.”
“You sure? You could’ve fooled me, you look just like one.”
Chelsea grinned and giggled, clearly delighted beyond words.
“Chelsea can show you, you want to lead the way?” I asked my daughter.
She pointed down the hall and Raff obligingly walked down it, turning right when Chelsea asked him to and ending up in her bedroom. I hadn’t had time to decorate it as much as I’d hoped. The walls weren’t painted yet, not all of the pictures were hung, that kind of thing. But it had all of her furniture and her stuffed animals, her dolls, and her many, many books.
Chelsea was a total bookworm, and I was glad for it. I encouraged her as much as I could, buying her books constantly and helping her to read. She was still at a beginner’s level, but she loved being read-to and I looked forward to the day she could read steadily on her own and I could buy her a lot of the books that I’d enjoyed when I was younger.
“That’s quite a collection of books you’ve got there,” Raff said, setting Chelsea down on the bed. “You like reading, huh? Just like your mom.”
“Yes!” Chelsea said eagerly.
“Get into your pajamas and brush your teeth,” I warned her. “We have to do that before book time, remember?”
Chelsea scurried off to do as she was told. Raff raised an eyebrow at me, and I looked away. I wasn’t starting this conversation until Chelsea was safely snuggled into bed and out of earshot.
When Chelsea returned, she picked out her favorite book for Raff to read: Feathertop, the story of a scarecrow who was brought to life by a witch and fell in love with a girl in town.
Raff sat right own on the bed with her, suit and all, and started reading her the story. He got her settled in easily, and I knew that part of it was Chelsea wanting to impress this new person and put her best food forward, but part of it also seemed to be Raff’s easygoing, charming manner. He was just casual enough with her that she didn’t feel imposed on or like the person was ordering her around. It was a trick that I’d seen few non-parents be able to manage.
I watched them, my daughter snuggled up against the side of her father, and my heart ached dangerously.
I couldn’t have this, I reminded myself.
But what if I could?
19
Raff
Chelsea was too fucking cute for words. She had these big adorable dark eyes, and her mother’s curling blonde hair, and this charming smile that reminded me of someone although I couldn’t quite place it at the moment. Probably Cass, since Cass could be plenty charming or so I recalled from our night together on her twenty-first birthday.
Once I really got into the story, Chelsea snuggled up against me, and I could feel her body getting heavier and heavier as she began to fall asleep. At last, her eyes were closed and she was breathing in that deep, even way that meant she’d truly gone off to dreamland.
Lucky me it had only taken one book. I hadn’t been sure how many we’d have to read to her to ge
t her to nod off, but I guess like all kids she’d thought she was less tired than she really was. God, she was a cute kid. And I loved her giggle. And her love of books, just like her mom.
Cass put a hand on my arm and tilted her head towards the bedroom door, indicating that we should go. I slipped off the bed and Cass adjusted Chelsea so that she was curled up properly on the pillow, all books out of the way, the blankets pulled up over her shoulder.
We tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind us, and then retreated to the living room.
“How old is she?” I asked as we sat down. I had a good idea of how old the kid was, but I needed confirmation. It could just be a coincidence after all. The age, the eyes, even that smile—I knew where I had seen it before, now. I’d been practicing that smile for ages when I was working on interviews in my MBA, trying to get that look just right for talking to clients.
Cass got a guilty look on her face that said it all. “She’s three years old.”
She walked into the kitchen, opened the bottle of wine I got, and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. After pouring us each a glass, she looked at me. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”
I nodded.
Cass took a gulp of her wine. I winced. That was never a good idea.
“I’m going to cut right to the chase. She’s three years old. She looks a bit like me, although I could be fooling myself. But I don’t think I am. We never really talked about it but I’m pretty sure I was the first person you’d had sex with. So, unless I’m wildly off the mark here—she’s my daughter, isn’t she?”
There was always the possibility that Cass’d had an affair or a fling right after I’d left. I wouldn’t have blamed her for wanting a rebound after the way I’d treated her. But I doubted that was the case.
Cass hesitated for a moment, then nodded. She wouldn’t even look me in the eye.
Anger rose in me and I struggled to choke it down. I didn’t want to wake Chelsea up by yelling. “Why did you never tell me?”