Not when she had to deal with the fact that it was Anson who claimed her thoughts at random moments of the day. It was the memory of Anson’s kiss that made her smile. It was Anson that she desired.
But she was fighting it, reconciling herself that it was Hunter that she would love and desire. One day.
She called a few times to quickly check on Anson and let him know the offer to pay his medical bills still stood, but that was all. It was up to Kyra to make sure Anson stayed off his feet and was well fed.
What was odd was that this past week she had spent more time away from Anson than she had with him and she found that she missed him.
And now this.
“I could use the help,” she admitted, turning to look around the office for a spot to set him up. “I guess you’ll have to use my desk while you’re here.”
“Mr. Tyler asked me to pass this on to you as well.”
Mona looked down at the envelope before taking it. She figured it was his hospital bills and stuck it inside the top drawer of her desk once she reached it. “Thank you.”
She spent the rest of the morning walking Malik through every area in which she needed assistance. Then she dropped down on the sofa in the lounge/ waiting area at the front of the room to finally pull her cell from the front pocket of the linen motorcycle jacket she wore with wide leg jeans. She was just about to call Anson and thank him when the front door opened and Hunter strolled in, rather handsome in a bright green Polo and khaki shorts.
She allowed herself a moment for her pulse to race or her heart to skip at the sight of him. Instead she felt nothing but overwhelmed by his sudden reappearance. Mrs. Hunter Tyler. Mona Tyler.
Standing, she walked over to meet him. “Look who is back in town,” she said with a smile that was more forced than not. Why is he here?
“I thought I might take you out to lunch,” Hunter said.
Her lips formed to decline, but she hesitated. He was just as fine as Anson, maybe a little cockier, and he was going to be a surgeon, definitely making him an eligible bachelor. Was he her soul mate and was she not giving him a chance because it was Anson she felt attracted to?
“Let me get my clutch,” she said, walking over to her desk.
Malik rolled to the side in his chair to allow her to retrieve her clutch from the bottom drawer of her desk. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour,” she said to him.
“Enjoy,” he said.
Hunter held the door as she exited and then walked a few steps ahead to open the door to Anson’s BMW. “I thought this was better than my Jeep,” he said, holding the passenger door.
She smiled at him before entering the car. Once inside she lightly touched the gear shift, but only because Anson’s hand had once gripped it the way he had cupped her ass as they kissed. She felt her cheeks warm and her pulse race at the memory. “Does Anson know you’re taking me to lunch?” she asked, once Hunter was in the driver’s seat.
“Yeah,” he said, checking the side-view mirrors before pulling away from the curb.
Oh. Her disappointment hurt to the quick and she looked out the window, not really seeing anything at all.
“He actually went back to work at the office today,” he said, glancing over at her.
“His doctor wanted him to wait two weeks before going back,” she said, her eyes filling with concern.
“I know, but my brother is stubborn.”
Yes, he is.
“I’m sure Kyra has the . . . know-how to convince him,” she said.
Hunter laughed. “She knows him well. Kyra’s definitely the one who got away, and now she’s back,” he said simply.
“Not Carina?” she asked.
“I think he loved Kyra more,” Hunter said, reaching over to take her hand. “Hopefully they can get their shit together this time.”
Mona actually was glad he took her hand, and she sandwiched his in between both of hers and closed her eyes. The same vision flashed. Shit.
She held on to his hand, but this time she was waiting for some type of thrill. Any type of thrill. Sparks. Chemistry. Desire.
Whomp-whomp.
Releasing him, she pretended to look for something in her clutch. “So you’re going to be a surgeon?” Mona asked.
“Cardiologist,” he said proudly.
“Matters of the heart,” she said. “I guess we have something in common.”
He frowned. “Kinda, but not really,” he said.
“Oh, Lord. Don’t tell me you don’t believe in love and soul mates either,” she said.
Hunter shrugged as he pulled into a parking lot outside Fat Jack’s restaurant. “I believe in soul mates, but if Anson doesn’t . . . you just have to understand he’s been through a lot. So it makes sense that he views things differently from me.”
Mona waited for him to come around and open her door.
“I don’t want to be a junkie like my parents.”
She knew it had cost Anson a lot to reveal even that much of his life to her.
As they entered the restaurant and were seated at one of the booths lining the walls, Mona’s heart tugged for Anson. If years later he still was so deeply affected that he didn’t want to speak on his past and his own brother said things had been tough, she hated to think what he went through.
“What’s on your mind?” Hunter asked, setting his plastic-covered menu down to eye her from across the table.
“Nothing,” she lied.
The waitress took their drink and food orders. Mona handed her the menus with a smile.
Hunter reached for her hand before she could pull it out of his reach. “I really want to get to know you, Mona. I like your style. Your looks. That body. Plus you’re smart and run your own business. You’re something like fly, right?”
She smiled. “If you say so.”
“And I do.”
“I’m just not looking to get involved with anyone right now,” she said. “My life is kind of hectic.”
“I’m a surgical resident, so time is tight for me too, but when I come back to Holtsville to visit, I just want to know you’ll spend some time with me,” he said. “Get to know me.”
“I can’t promise you that,” she said, her thoughts filled with Anson. “Plus, I wouldn’t doubt you have enough ladies lined up in Atlanta to sate you before a brief trip back home.”
“And you’re going to regret one of them locking down a doctor,” he boasted.
Mona was completely taken aback. He not only copped to a lineup of women, but also assumed that throwing them in her face would urge her competitive nature to go for him? What in the hell?
She was glad when their food arrived. She plowed through her cheeseburger so fast she got indigestion and the hiccups. She just wanted the lunch to be over. “Thanks so much,” she said, sitting her napkin on her nearly empty plate.
Hunter eyed her plate as he continued to chew on his own fried shrimp platter. “Hungry much?” he asked, swiping his mouth with his napkin.
“I just need to get back to my office,” she said.
Hunter continued to eat his food. “Why’d you become a matchmaker?” he asked.
Mona swallowed back her irritation. “It just seemed a natural gift I could combine with my knowledge of business models to make a successful venture for myself. I get paid to do what I love,” she said.
Is he stalling?
“And why are you a doctor?” she asked, as he continued to enjoy his food.
“I owe my brother everything and it was his wish for me to be a doctor or lawyer,” Hunter said.
“You must really love him,” she said.
Hunter nodded. “We were wards of the state. He aged out first and worked like a dog to get himself set up to take me in,” he said. “I watched him every day work two jobs and go to school full-time to give us both a better life. Most eighteen-year-olds would have been caught up in themselves, but my brother wanted nothing but the best for me and never once did he make me feel like I owed him anyth
ing—other than to be the very best I could be.”
Mona believed that she had just witnessed the man be the most sincere he ever was. I guess Anson must bring that out in him. “Your story is inspiring. Both of you are,” she said.
Hunter nodded and finally dropped his napkin atop the few fries he didn’t demolish along with the shrimp. “Yes, I know.”
And he’s back.
As he paid the check and tipped the waitress, Mona stood at the glass door of the small restaurant and looked out at Anson’s BMW. The car, the house, the clothes, the plan for his life. All of it was testament to the man trying his very best not to be the boy he was. There were holes in the story of his past that were easy to fill in. She could see how a little boy so focused on not failing could have no time for or belief in love.
Her heart tugged with sadness at that. Understanding but still sadness.
“Ready?” Hunter asked, holding the door open for her.
“Yes,” she said.
“When can I see you again?” he asked as they walked to the car.
“I don’t know,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I really don’t know if I’m interested in anything.”
“You’ll change your mind,” he said with confidence.
Mona let him help her into the car. They rode in silence most of the way, and she was anxious for some space. The vision and her lack of chemistry with Hunter were waging a war in her that was bringing on a headache.
“Thanks for lunch,” she said, her hand already on the door handle as he pulled to a stop. “No need to get out. You get back to Atlanta safely.”
She opened the door and climbed out before he could. “Bye, Hunter,” she said, waving.
She stood on the sidewalk and watched him wave and pull off. She hated to be rude or standoffish, but she’d kissed one brother and then had a vision of marrying the other. The whole thing was awkward and confusing.
Knock-knock.
Mona turned and eyed Malik in the window pointing to a bouquet of long-stemmed roses in his hand. Her eyes widened in surprise. “For me?” she mouthed, pointing to herself.
He gave her a thumbs-up.
She walked into the office. “Oh my God, they are gor-geous,” she sighed, taking them from him.
“They just came,” Malik said, before walking back to the desk.
She plucked the small red envelope from the roses and pulled out the card. Her smile faltered a bit. Her first thought had been that they were from Anson. Not Hunter.
“Think of me when you smell these,” she read, and then eyed his number scrawled across the bottom.
Great.
Dropping down onto the red leather sofa, she set the roses on the small, low slung, white table before it. She felt Malik’s eyes on her, but was thankful when he asked no questions. Sinking against the sofa, she let her head rest on the back of it and closed her eyes before rubbing them with her fingertips. This is a mess.
“Anson . . . Anson . . . An-son!”
He broke his gaze outside the window of his office to look over his shoulder at his receptionist peeking her head inside the door. “What’s up, Greta?” he asked, adjusting his leg on the desktop.
“Two quick things. The blueprints for the gymnasium just arrived. You want them in here or the conference room?” she asked. “And what are your lunch plans?”
“Conference room, and spinach pie from Dimi-trio’s,” he said, dropping the pencil he uselessly held and stretching his muscled arms high above his head in the hand-tailored shirt he wore.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
Jealous as hell.
“I’m good,” Anson said aloud, smoothing his hand over the waves of his low cut ebony hair.
At that very moment his brother, whom he loved above anyone else in the world, was borrowing his car to take Mona to lunch and Anson didn’t like it one damn bit. Not one damn bit at all.
Picking up the pencil, he stroked the length of it with his thumb, hating that he visualized his little brother kissing Mona. They shared many things, but women wasn’t one of them. He frowned deeply and looked down at the two halves of the pencil, not even realizing he had snapped the thin wood in half.
Ever since Mona Ballinger had entered his normal, sedate life, his days had become roller coasters of emotions. He had run the gamut from anger to excitement and everything in between . . . including desire. He had never had a woman so easily influence his feelings.
And when he was honest with himself he knew that she’d lit a spark in him that first day they’d argued in her office. In the midst of their harsh encounter he had been thrown by a desire to rush across the room, pick her up, and press her body against the wall as he kissed away any more words being hurled at him.
In those days before she reappeared in his life and drove into him, she had crossed his mind many times. He’d pretended it was annoyance, but it was much more, and it pissed him off that he could desire someone who was causing such havoc in his life.
But that kiss they shared was a whole other type of beautiful chaos.
“Failure is for fools. . . .”
Anson licked his lip at the memory of the feel of her lips. They were softer and plusher than they looked. Sweet. Hot. Good.
Hunter had picked the absolute worst moment to come home, ruining what might have been the best kiss ever. And now they were at lunch. He absolutely hated it.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I should have told him we kissed,” he muttered, viciously tossing the broken pencil in the black wastepaper basket by his desk. “And that I’ve seen her naked.”
Would Hunter see the same gloriously sexy spontaneity in her?
He assumed she had accepted Hunter’s invitation to lunch since his brother had yet to return to swap back the BMW for his Jeep. Why did she go?
That kiss had to mean something. That lazy and soft look in her eyes when they broke the kiss didn’t have anything to do with fatigue.
But he knew the answer. It was clear why she accepted Hunter’s invitation.
Kyra.
He could choke the hell out of Hunter for that as well. She had reappeared in his life and within minutes Mona was gone, never to brighten his doorstep again. It would take a fool not to guess at the reason why.
Bzzzzzzzzz . . .
He reached for his cell phone and flipped it over. Kyra. He instantly felt like an ass for being disappointed that it wasn’t Mona. Kyra had been at his home cooking meals and assisting him all week. Wiping his mouth, he answered the call and put it on speakerphone. “Hello.”
“Anson, I was thinking I would make that chicken piccata dish you love so much,” she said. “And maybe we can talk about some things.”
He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Kyra was making it clear that she wanted them to try again. They hadn’t ended on bad terms years ago; they had just drifted apart with her move to Atlanta for her career. He knew she and Hunter spoke occasionally, but he honestly had moved on without even considering picking up where they’d left off. And it was clear she was open to it.
She was beautiful, intelligent, and goal oriented—everything he’d liked in Carina even though he never proclaimed to be in love with her. And he had to admit Kyra had been the one woman he’d cared for the most.
So why the hesitation?
“Actually I’m swamped here at work and I’m not sure what time I’m getting in,” he said. “I’d hate for all your hard work to go to waste.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “I only have another week off work and I just thought . . .”
His mind didn’t absorb the rest of her words because he was too busy watching his BMW being parked in his reserved spot outside his window. “I agree,” he said.
“Well, no matter what time you get in, I got a little something sexy planned for you. Check your messages,” she said before hanging up.
He was confused when Hunter just hopped out of the BMW and then h
opped in his Jeep before he reversed out of the parking spot. “Where’s he going now?” he asked aloud.
Anson swiped across his phone with his thumb and a nude selfie of Kyra filled the screen. Closing that with an agitated mumble, he dialed Mona’s number. It rang twice.
“Hello.”
His heart double-pumped. “How’s Malik working out?” he asked.
“I really appreciate it and he’s great,” she said. “I was going to call and thank you.”
“I remembered you mentioning you were swamped at work and he’s really good at getting things in order.... Just don’t let him flirt with you,” he said, his shoulders relaxing.
“He’s been a perfect gentleman—plus, I’m too old for him,” she said.
They fell silent. He didn’t want the small connection to her to end.
We’re as different as night and day and now my brother is chasing behind her skirts. What am I doing?
“I got the bill. I’ll drop a check off by your house tonight,” she said.
“Bill?” he asked. “Oh, you mean the envelope I sent by Malik. That’s not a bill. I’m insured.”
“There must be a co-pay—”
“Mona? Stop it.”
“I just think—”
“Mona,” he said again.
“So what’s in the envelope?” she asked.
“A surprise.”
“I love surprises.... You sure Kyra won’t mind?”
“It has nothing to do with her,” he said, his suspicion confirmed.
“Does she know that?” Mona countered.
“How was lunch?” he shot back smoothly.
“Certainly not as interesting as the last five nights at your house, I’m sure.”
“Never assume anything.”
“I could tell you the same.”
A standoff.
Mona let out a soft gasp.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his body tensing.
“I . . . uh . . . wow . . . I opened the envelope,” she said.
A broad smile spread across his face. “You like it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He wished he could see the expression on her face as she looked at the sketches of her he had drawn from memory.
Want, Need, Love Page 10