My Fair Brady

by K. C. Wells

  Jordan laughed. “Oh, he sure did, not that any of them stuck around long.”

  “Yeah, she mentioned that too.” When Jordan arched his eyebrows, Brady gave him what he hoped was a sympathetic smile. “I can appreciate that, not having had much luck in the boyfriend department either.”

  Jordan blinked. “Now that surprises me.”

  It was Brady’s turn to lift his eyebrows.

  “What? You’re good-looking, intelligent, witty, sexy…. Why would anyone not want to stay around someone like you?”

  Brady grinned. “I’m sexy?”

  Jordan let out a snort. “You know it.”

  Brady’s grin faltered. “No, actually, I don’t, but it’s good to know someone thinks of me that way. And maybe I’ve not had much success because I’m too… picky. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy. I’m after someone who wants to be… permanent.” His throat tightened as the thought flickered through his mind. And I was kinda hoping you wanted the position.

  “Maybe you’ve not met the right one yet. I can understand that situation. I mean, look at me. When do I have time for romance?”

  It wasn’t at all what Brady wanted to hear. Inside his head, a voice was yelling at him to say something, but the signals weren’t there. “And maybe… we need to get back. We don’t want to be late for lunch, right?” He silently cursed himself for his sudden attack of cold feet, arguing that if Jordan had given any indication that he was interested, he’d have said something.

  Brady was no fool. A night of blowjobs and frotting added up to one thing only—sex—and he wanted more than Jordan’s body.

  He wanted his heart too.

  Chapter Seventeen

  BRADY slipped on the dark green jacket and regarded his reflection.

  Jordan came up behind him, smiling. “It still looks amazing on you. That color complements your eyes.”

  Brady stared at him in the mirror. “You’re not too shabby either.” Jordan wore a dark blue shirt and black pants. The only thing wrong was that he’d shaved—Brady preferred the five-o’clock shadow that always made Jordan so sexy, almost dangerous. That smooth jawline did have one thing going for it, however—it practically begged to be kissed.

  Then why not do exactly that?

  Brady turned around slowly, stroked his hand over Jordan’s cheek, and leaned in to kiss the newly bared skin. Jordan’s cologne stirred his senses, and he kissed a trail to Jordan’s neck, eager to drink him in.

  Jordan made a low sound of approval, his arms slipping around Brady’s waist. “This is… distracting.”

  Brady chuckled against his neck. “I don’t hear you saying, ‘Stop, stop.’” When Jordan moved his hand lower to gently squeeze Brady’s ass, Brady snickered. “Mm-hmm. Yeah. Your mouth says one thing, but your hands say something completely different.”

  Jordan sighed and let go of his ass. “Unfortunately, there’s a party out there, and we’re expected.”

  Brady huffed and straightened. He ran his hand over Jordan’s chest, feeling the nipple harden through the soft fabric as his fingertips brushed over it. “Later?”

  Jordan kissed him lightly on the lips. “Later,” he confirmed. “Now let’s go mingle.”

  Brady gave a final glance at his reflection, then followed Jordan out of their room. Maybe later he’d find the nerve he’d lost out at the beach. Maybe after a couple of drinks, he’d find enough courage to tell Jordan what he felt. Maybe—

  Oh, enough with the maybes. Just grow a pair.

  The living room was full. Drake was doing his host routine, pouring drinks and talking with his guests, and Belinda was doing the same, circulating with a tray of champagne flutes and chatting. The air was filled with lively conversations and unobtrusive background music. Brady noted the kids were nowhere to be seen.

  “Oh. Someone I know.” Jordan smiled. “I had no idea he’d be here.”

  Brady’s stomach clenched a little at the sight of that happy expression, but then he pushed down hard on his pang of irrational jealousy. He knew better. “Then why don’t you go say hi, and I’ll get you a drink?” He patted Jordan’s arm. “How about a glass of champagne?”

  Jordan nodded. “Then come join me. I’d like to introduce you to Miles.” He headed for the window, where a tall, slim man was talking with another guest.

  Brady sought Belinda and found her chatting with a woman he recognized instantly as Mara Stewart, every bit as glamorous in real life as she was in photos. He walked up to them, waiting until Belinda was done.

  Mara turned her head and stared in Jordan’s direction. “Aww, Belinda, for me? You shouldn’t have. What a thoughtful gift.” She peered intently at him. “Who is he? He’s gorgeous.”

  Belinda laughed. “Sorry, Mara. That’s Jordan Wolf, and he’s spoken for. So down, girl.”

  Mara snickered. “As if I’d let a little thing like that stop me. How do you think I got my first husband?” She turned back to face Belinda. “I used my… charms.”

  Brady decided in that moment that he really didn’t like Mara Stewart.

  “Trust me, your charms will be powerless in this instance. Jordan is gay.” Belinda gave a sweet smile, her gaze flickering to catch Brady’s. “And his partner is right behind you.”

  Before Brady could take a breath, Mara whirled around to stare at him. Her makeup was immaculate, as was her carefully coiffured, glossy hair, curling over her shoulders. She showed no signs of embarrassment as she calmly looked Brady up and down.

  “So you’re the lucky man?”

  Brady extended his hand. “Brady Donovan, Ms. Stewart.”

  Mara took it and shook with a firm grip. “Obviously a man with excellent taste.” Her pale blue eyes focused on his, and Brady felt like he was under a microscope.

  He gave Belinda a smile. “Two glasses of champagne, please.” He had no desire to stay a moment longer to suffer Mara’s careful scrutiny. Belinda handed him the glasses, and after giving both her and Mara a brief nod, Brady edged his way through all the guests to the window where Jordan was talking animatedly.

  “Brady, this is Miles Hartmann. We met at a conference about four years ago. Miles runs an advertising company on Long Island. Miles, this is Brady Donovan.”

  Miles gave Brady a nod. “Pleased to meet you. Jordan says this is your first visit to the Hamptons. It’s quite something, isn’t it?”

  Brady smiled politely. “Judging by some of the properties I saw on our way here, it certainly seems to attract those who have a lot of money.” The Hamptons had one thing going for it in Brady’s book—its proximity to the ocean. Brady loved the idea of living by the water.

  “True. Put it this way—I couldn’t afford to buy a house around here.” Miles glanced around him. “And this is a beautiful house, isn’t it? So much light. I bet it’s awesome to live here in the summer. My wife would love this.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, it’s not something she’ll ever get to experience.” He nudged Jordan. “Surely you’re doing well enough by now to be able to buy a house in the Hamptons?”

  “Who says I want one?” Jordan exclaimed. “And why didn’t you bring Michelle with you this weekend?”

  “She’s visiting her mom in Atlanta. The kids haven’t seen their grandmother in ages.” Miles glanced over Brady’s shoulder and grinned. “Don’t look now, Jordan, but someone has her eye on you.”

  Brady stifled a groan. “That would be Mara.”

  Jordan leaned in closer. “Then isn’t it a good thing that I have my boyfriend with me to protect me from her?” And with that, he kissed Brady on the mouth.

  The touch of Jordan’s lips against his sent all thoughts of Mara from Brady’s head. She can want all she likes.

  “I had no idea.” They parted, and Miles smiled at Brady. “Okay, now I’m really pleased to meet you.” When Brady gave him a speculative glance, Miles’s eyes shone. “Don’t mind me. I’m just an old romantic at heart. I love it when people find their missing piece. Life is too short to go through
it alone.” He held up his left hand, where a white gold ring gleamed. “I found mine ten years ago.”

  Jordan put his hand to Brady’s back, a comforting touch that eased him. Brady wanted Jordan to say something, anything, that would give him a clue to what was going in his head, but all he did was sip his champagne.

  Idiot. This isn’t real, remember? Remember why you’re here. Play your part.

  The sex had been an unexpected bonus, and if Jordan’s shopping trip had gone in the way Brady hoped, it would be repeated, but that didn’t make it real. This whole weekend was a fantasy.

  What was I thinking? Brady gave himself an angry mental shake. So what if Phil’s right and Jordan does feel something for me? That doesn’t mean anything can come of it. He said it himself. He has no time for romance, so why am I torturing myself like this?

  A wave of grief rolled through Brady, so acute that it took his breath away for a moment.

  “Excuse me,” he said to them. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He couldn’t stand there a second longer. Brady took his glass and walked through the guests toward the kitchen. Thankfully the room was empty. Brady drank down half his glass, then refilled it from the bottle that stood in an ice bucket on the countertop. Maybe alcohol would help.

  “So, you and Jordan.”

  Brady had to fight really hard not to groan out loud. He turned resignedly to face Mara. “What about us?” he said with a sigh before drinking more champagne.

  “It’s serious?” Mara entered the kitchen area and walked past him to the far end where trays of canapés sat. She took a bite from one. “These are delicious.”

  Brady wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or lose his temper. Then he remembered where he was. There was no way he would spoil Belinda’s party.

  “I’m glad you like them, and yes, it’s serious.”

  Mara cocked her head to one side. “But… you work for him, don’t you? Belinda was telling me.”

  Brady frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  She huffed. “It doesn’t exactly bode well, does it? Sleeping with the boss? Especially as everyone who wants to see Jordan has to go through you first. What are they going to think when it gets around that you’re banging the boss?” She smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. “Which, by the way, is terribly clichéd. The boss sleeping with the lowly secretary. It’s almost a business institution. Your job is safe, at any rate.”

  Brady finally reached the breaking point. He took a long drink from his glass, then put it down and faced her head-on. “Let’s overlook the fact for a moment that none of this is any of your business. What is your problem? Did you want to get into his pants and then you found out he was gay? You’re not the first. So now you have a gorgeous guy who won’t be remotely interested in you, and that galls you. Instead of moving on, you decide to take your sour grapes out on me. I do understand, however. Your soon-to-be-ex-husband just treated you like garbage, and the fact that he did it all over the pages of any newspaper that would print the story must really hurt. But that’s no excuse.” By that point he was shaking.

  “No, it most certainly is not.”

  He turned to find Belinda glaring at Mara, her face pale.

  Mara swallowed, then opened her mouth to speak, but Belinda held up her hand.

  “I asked you here because I felt sympathy for your circumstances. Well, you just used up all my sympathy. Maybe it would be best if you went back to your hotel. I think you’re done here.”

  Mara’s pallor matched Belinda’s. “My coat is—”

  “In the closet in the hallway. I’ll see you out.” Belinda pressed her lips together, as if to force herself to remain silent.

  Mara walked slowly past Brady without a word, for which he was thankful. When they were both out of sight, he leaned against the countertop, his legs still shaking. Brady finished his champagne, then half filled the glass. He still couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve to speak out like that, but Mara had gotten him really pissed. He stood there, waiting for the snakes in his belly to stop writhing, letting the champagne dull his nerves.

  “Are you okay?” Belinda was back at his side, her arm around his shoulders. “I am so sorry. She had no right to talk to you that way.”

  Brady sighed. “I stopped listening when I realized that every word out of her mouth took everything I feel for him and demeaned it.” He took a breath. “I’ve worked for Jordan for three years, and I guess I’ve loved him for nearly that long. It’s taken me a while to see that, but hey, I got there.”

  The sound of a throat clearing had him clamming up, and then an icy hand skated down his spine when he realized who was standing at the far end of the kitchen.

  Jordan held up his glass. “I came for a refill, and to find you,” he said quietly.

  Brady scanned his face for some idea of what he was feeling. Jordan seemed… stunned.

  Belinda smiled. “Well, looks like you found him. And now I’ll go take care of my guests.” She glanced at Brady. “Maybe this is a conversation best suited for someplace less… crowded?”

  Jordan nodded. “My thoughts exactly. How about we go to our room?”

  Brady swallowed. “Okay.” There was nothing else to say, now that the cat was well and truly out of the bag.

  Time to face the music.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE door closed softly behind them, and Jordan couldn’t wait a minute more.

  “Did you mean what you said? About… loving me for that long?” He locked gazes with Brady, unable to tear away. He’d caught Brady’s words as he’d come around the corner into the kitchen, and they’d been enough to bring him to a halt.

  He… loves me?

  Brady regarded him carefully. “That wasn’t the way I intended for it to come out. I’d rehearsed the words in my head so many times, and yet… the timing was never right.” He smiled. “I wanted to tell you when we were at the beach, but then you mentioned having no time for romance, and I thought….” Brady chuckled. “Okay, so I don’t think clearly when I’m around you. You mess with my head.”

  Jordan moved closer. “That works out well. You’ve been messing with mine for weeks.”

  Brady blinked. “I have?”

  Jordan nodded. “Suddenly the man I thought I knew disappeared, and in his place was this interesting, funny, sexy guy that I wanted to spend time with. A man who stirred something inside me, something I’d never known before.”

  “And what was that?” Brady’s words were a whisper.

  Jordan took his hand and led him over to the bed, where they sat down. He took a deep breath. “Remember when we were at my mom’s house, in that storm?”

  Brady nodded.

  “That moment when we were alone, all I wanted to do was hold you. Kiss you.”

  “You’ve kissed me a few times since then.”

  It was Jordan’s turn to nod. “And each time, it only reinforces what I know to be true.” It was easier than he thought it would be. Brady had already stepped off that particular precipice—all Jordan had to do was follow him. “I love you. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Maybe that’s why it’s taken me so long to work it out. But to quote someone not a million miles away… ‘Hey, I got there.’”

  God, the light in Brady’s eyes….

  Brady’s smile lit up his face. “I think it’s time for another kiss, don’t you?”

  Jordan’s heart might have stuttered a little. “I do like the way you think.”

  Brady removed his jacket, then stretched out in the center of the bed. “Come here.”

  Jordan joined him, and Brady pushed him onto his back before rolling on top of him. Jordan gazed up into Brady’s eyes. “I still can’t believe it,” he said softly. “This is a dream, right?”

  Brady’s smile hadn’t faltered. “If it is, let’s make it a good one.” He brought his lips to Jordan’s, and Jordan lost himself in the sweetest kiss he’d ever known. He wrapped his arms around Brady’s wai
st, feeling the warmth that radiated from Brady’s body. Brady sought his tongue, and Jordan opened for him, deepening the kiss. Brady sighed. “You know we have to go back out there, don’t you? We can’t just stay in here.”

  Jordan chuckled. “Why not?”

  Brady snorted. “Because anyone with half a brain would know exactly what we’re getting up to in here?”

  Jordan tightened his grip. “And what would that be?” Not that he disagreed. Brady had a point.

  Brady’s gaze was smoking hot. “Making love,” he said quietly.

  Just like that, Jordan’s heart soared. “Making love sounds like a wonderful idea, but maybe something best suited to when everyone has left and we’re not likely to raise a few eyebrows.” He grinned. “And besides, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

  Brady rolled his eyes. “Then by all means, let’s go find you something to nibble on.” Jordan moved swiftly, his lips seeking Brady’s neck. Brady let out an undignified squeal. “And that doesn’t mean me!” He pulled free of Jordan’s embrace and scrambled into a sitting position.

  Jordan laughed and sat up. “Spoilsport. Okay, let’s go find the canapés.” He got off the bed and held out his hand. “Come on—boyfriend.”

  Brady’s smiled widened. “I suddenly like that word a whole lot more.”

  “Why is that?”

  Brady stood beside him. “Because now it’s real. Now it means something.”

  Jordan couldn’t agree more.

  A HUSH fell over the room as Drake called for quiet. He stood by the fireplace with Belinda at his side, both holding glasses of champagne. Marty and Dawn sat on the armchair next to them.

  “Thank you, everyone, for joining us this evening to help us celebrate the last fifteen years. We have a lot to be thankful for, most especially our two wonderful children.”

  Marty guffawed. “That’s not what Mom called us this morning.”

  Dawn elbowed him in the ribs, and everyone laughed. Belinda gave him a mock glare.

  Drake chuckled. “When I think back on all the things people told us when we first mentioned starting a family—real gems, such as… having kids is a lot like living in a frat house. Everything’s sticky and you’re not sure why.” A wave of laughter rippled through the room. “Or… with kids, silence is never golden, only suspicious.” More chuckles broke out. “And we’ve learned a lot during the last few years. For any of you contemplating having children, I’ll give you one pearl of wisdom. When they get to be teenagers and you want to punish them? Don’t take away their iPad, or phone, or whatever the latest technology happens to be.” Drake grinned gleefully. “Just take away their charger, sit back, and wait for the batteries to die.”