“Is that Chris calling you, Brett?” Anna interrupted, her cheeks red. “I think I hear him.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “That man…”
“I think I heard him, too,” Brett said. He smiled at Nina and took a backward step. “It was lovely meeting you,” he said to the bride before turning to Anna. She was doing it again. Staring at him like he was a king. And for the first time ever, he kind of liked it. Fuck me. Forcing his smile to remain in place, he added, “And, as always, it was great seeing you again, Twinkletoes.”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’ll see you at dinner. I think we’re seated next to each other.”
Close. Together. The whole time.
Shit.
“Great. That’s…great,” he said, still smiling.
And then he did what any sensible man would do when faced with unknown and unwanted feelings for his best friend’s little sister.
He got the fuck outta there.
Chapter Two
Later that night, Anna stood by her chair, staring at the place card next to hers. Earlier in the day, she’d made sure to put Brett next to her for dinner, but on second thought…maybe she shouldn’t have been quite so enthusiastic to be near him again. Heck, earlier when he had squeezed her hand, he’d pulled away like she was contaminated and looked at her like she’d drooled on her chin or something.
She glowered down at the place card. Craaaapppp. Why had she thought drawing a perfect little heart in the upper left corner of the card was a good idea? With that there, how was she supposed to sit next to him throughout dinner and act like she didn’t know he knew she was half in love with him? Maybe it wasn’t too late to switch his seat…after she gave him a new card minus a heart. She reached for his card, but as soon as her fingers closed around it, she sensed him behind her.
Son of a…
“Whatcha doing?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She hugged the piece of paper close to her chest and turned to face him. “Why?”
“You’re hiding something.” He pointed at her hand. “What is it?”
Damn him and his eagle eyes. “Your…uh…place card.” She forced a smile. “It’s…uh…spelled wrong. Totally wrong.”
Smooth, Anna. Real smooth.
He raised a brow. “‘Brett Ross’ is spelled wrong?”
Why couldn’t he have a harder name to spell? “Yep. Mom’s been really stressed out with all this wedding stuff.” She sent a silent apology to her mother for making her the scapegoat. “I’ll get rid of it. She’d feel horrible about the error.”
Brett held out his hand. “Oh. Okay. Just give it to me, then. I’ll shove it in my pocket so she doesn’t see.”
“No. I have it. It’s fine.” She stepped back from him even more, but her back hit the chair. She had nowhere else to go. “I’ll hide it in my pocket.”
“You don’t have any pockets on your dress.” His gaze slid down her red satin cocktail dress, lingering on her legs. Or had she imagined the part about lingering? “I’ll take it.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not handing it over.”
He put his hands on his hips, doing his best to look casual—but she knew his tricks—then shot his hand out, trying to snatch it out of her fingers. She jumped back and hid it behind her back. “You’ll have to be smoother than that if you want to fool me. You’ve been doing that move since you were eight, Brett-Brett.”
His lips twitched at the old nickname. She’d started using it when he started calling her Twinkletoes. It wasn’t very original, but it had annoyed him, so she’d gone with it. “Tell me what’s really happening. You’re up to something.”
She lifted her chin. “Am not.”
“Are too.”
She rolled her eyes. “How old are we again?”
“Old enough for what I’m about to do to get that card.” He took a step toward her, and she tried to back up. She didn’t budge. Oh. Right. The chair. He held out a hand and narrowed his eyes on her. “Last chance. If you don’t give it to me, I’m going to tackle you to the floor and tickle you until you give in. And we both know you’ll give in.”
Anna’s mouth went dry at the thought of his body pressed against hers. “If you’re tackling me, it better be for something a lot more exciting than tickling.”
“Anna…” His eyes darkened slightly, and he took a small step toward her. “You better watch what you say to me. Someone might get the wrong idea. We’re not kids anymore.”
“I’m glad you noticed.” She lifted her chin. “Bring it, Brett-Brett.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“Are you so sure about that?” she asked slowly, locking eyes with him.
He took a step in her direction, his eyes on her mouth.
Holy crap, was he going to kiss—?
“One.” He stepped closer. “Two.” Another step. “Three.” He was in front of her, their feet touching. He, quite unfortunately, stopped there. “Anna…”
“Well? What are you gonna do now?” she asked breathlessly.
He tilted her chin up, his eyes examining her face. He ran his thumb over her chin, his brow furrowed in confusion. It almost looked like he wasn’t sure who she was right now. She rested a hand on his chest and held her breath, because he was looking at her like he was going to kiss her again.
“Why, exactly, are you holding my sister’s chin like that?” Christopher asked, his voice light and yet somehow strained at the same time. “She got something in her eye?”
Anna closed her eyes and counted to ten.
She loved her brothers. She really did.
But sometimes, just sometimes, she hated them.
Brett dropped his hand immediately, backing away from her like she was on fire—and he was going to let her burn. “Hey. I was looking for you.”
“I’m not in my sister’s eyes.” Christopher crossed his arms and turned his penetrating stare toward Anna. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
Her fingers closed around the paper tighter, just in case her brother somehow managed to reach across the room and snatch it away. “None of your business.”
“Why not?” Christopher asked.
She took a calming breath. “Because it’s nothing. Drop it.”
“If it’s nothing, then give it to me.” Christopher narrowed his eyes. “Now.”
“What do you think I’m hiding, for the love of God? The secret launch codes for the world’s nuclear bombs? Jesus.”
Christopher’s brows lowered. “You were alone with Brett, and now you won’t show me what you’re holding. So I don’t know what you have—but you’re going to show me, even if I have to tackle you to the floor.”
This chauvinistic behavior was getting old. Really old. “It’s a used condom. We were having sex on the table. You caught us before we could clean up.”
Brett cracked up, leaning on a chair for support. She blinked at him in surprise. “Opted for honesty, huh, Twinkletoes?”
“Yep, Brett-Brett.”
“Why the hell are you guys calling each other weird names?”
“You don’t want to know. It’s…” Anna leaned in, watching Brett as she said, “…of a personal nature. Kind of like what we were doing earlier on the table.”
Brett laughed again. “Very personal.”
Christopher stiffened and looked at the table. Actually looked at the table, as if she might be telling the truth. He needed some serious help. He finally looked back at her, his gray eyes even darker than they’d been before. “I’m not amused.”
Brett choked on another laugh, then quickly cleared his throat to hide it. Christopher swung a murderous scowl in his direction, but Brett stood next to Anna without any signs of fear. That’s one of the things she loved about him. He’d always treated her as an equal, rather than a weak little girl. “Your mother misspelled my name, and Anna doesn’t want her to see. It’s not a big deal.”
Christopher raised a brow. “Mom didn’t even do—”
>
Someone snatched the place card out of Anna’s hand, and she gasped and faced the betrayer. Wyatt looked down at the paper, his brow furrowed. When he glanced back at Anna, his blue eyes were somber. He ripped off the section where she’d drawn the heart and handed the rest of the place card back to her.
“She put an extra T. Problem solved.”
Anna looked at Wyatt in silent gratitude, then held the card out to Brett. He gave her a small smile. But his gaze held on to hers for longer than she expected. Long enough that she feared he suspected the truth. His fingers brushed hers gently, and she trembled at his touch.
If only he felt the same undeniable attraction she did.
The rest of the family crowded into the dining room, and Brett set the card back at his spot. As everyone conversed and caught up with one another, she stood in the corner and poured herself a glass of pinot. If tonight was any indication, she would be drinking a lot of wine over the weekend. Like, a lot.
Wyatt came to her side. “Drinking already? That can’t be a good sign.”
She watched Brett talking to her mother, laughing and being open and cheerful. It was all a lie. Not once did he smile his real smile. He seemed to be putting up a front with them—wanting them to think he was ecstatically happy.
But…he wasn’t.
Instead, he was on autopilot, doing the things that were expected of him and nothing else. The only time she’d seen him actually look alive was when he’d been threatening to take the card from her.
How many times had they wrestled growing up?
And she’d never won.
Not once.
She’d give anything to lose to him again.
If only Christopher hadn’t come in.
“Yeah, well”—she lifted her glass to him—“cheers.”
Wyatt followed the line of her stare, obviously not having any problem figuring out who she watched. “You need to cool it. You’ll have everyone else on his case if you don’t stop mooning over him.”
She took a long drink. “I’m not mooning over him. God, who even uses that phrase anymore?”
“So you just drew a heart because you think he’s a nice guy?” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking I’m the only one who knows how you feel. They all see it—and eventually, so will he…if he doesn’t already.”
Her hand tightened on her empty glass. Brett turned around and caught her staring. His green eyes were bright as he winked at her. She turned her back on him, her heart picking up speed. “I’m not in love with him anymore. I was just being silly.”
“He doesn’t like you like that, and he never will. You—”
“Stop.” She set her empty cup down with a loud thud. “I’m fully aware of all of this. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“I hope not. Because if he hurt you”—Wyatt tightened his fists and stared over her shoulder—presumably at Brett—“I’d have to kick his ass.”
She tucked her bangs behind her ear, checking in the mirror to make sure nothing looked out of place. If she looked to the left, she could see Brett talking to her father. He held a glass of whiskey loosely in his fingers. “Please. We have enough testosterone flying around. Cut the guy some slack. He’s probably the last man who would hit on me in this room.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Wyatt said, frowning.
Anna rolled her eyes. “You just finished telling me he would never want me, but now you turn around and say he’s gonna sweep me off my feet? Make. Up. Your. Mind.”
“A man doesn’t have to be right for you to crawl into your bed for some fun.”
Anna flushed. “Believe it or not, I’m aware of this fact. I’m not a virgin.”
“Jesus.” Wyatt shoved his fingers in his ears. “Don’t tell me this shit.”
“One time in college, I—”
Wyatt dropped his hands and glowered at her. “You win. I’m leaving now.”
Anna wiped her hands together and grinned. “That was easier than usual.”
“Keep him out of your room.”
Anna snorted. “I think I can manage that one. I’m sure he’s not here looking to get laid.”
“Yeah, he gets enough of that in Atlanta.”
Anna’s smile froze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.” Wyatt shrugged. “Turns out, being a rich CEO in a big city makes it easy to score chicks, which Brett takes full advantage of.”
She wouldn’t admit how much those words hurt to hear. He wasn’t hers. Never had been. So why should it bother her that he was getting some? “Yeah. And?”
Wyatt crossed his arms. “Just letting you know.”
“Well, it’s not like he’s the same boy he was back then when he lived here. It’s no surprise women want him.”
“Some of the girls from here even moved out to Atlanta and have been chasing him.”
Okay. That hurt. “Funny how they want him now that he’s rich.”
Wyatt shrugged again.
“They didn’t want anything to do with him when he was a kid. They never saw him for what he was. He wasn’t a boy who didn’t shower—his legal guardians just pretended he didn’t exist. He didn’t come to school in the same clothes because he was poor. He came to school in the same clothes because his only living relatives couldn’t be bothered to buy him anything. He was the boy who didn’t exist.” She turned on her heel, her eyes reflexively seeking him out. He laughed loudly at something her dad said. Fake. All fake. “And they’re idiots for not seeing the truth. For not seeing the man he’d become. He should laugh in their faces—the same way they laughed in his time and time again.”
“Down, girl. I’m not on their side. I’m on yours.” Wyatt whistled through his teeth. “And I didn’t realize you were so vindictive, little sister.”
“I’m not.” She paused. “Only when it comes to him.”
With that, she crossed the room and walked right up to Cole and a bunch of his buddies, stopping beside her brother while trying her best to cool the anger inside her. Thinking about how they treated him in school…
Cole smiled at her. “Hey, sis. How ya doing?”
“I’m fine.” She looked out the window. “Can you believe this is the weekend?”
“Not really.”
Anna watched Christopher from across the room. His tall frame was lean and muscular, and he exuded power. “I can’t believe he’s actually doing it. Getting married.”
Cole looked at Christopher, too, his stare contemplative. As they watched, Nina came to Chris’s side. He turned to his future bride and beamed down at her, yanking her to his side as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. An empty feeling sliced through Anna. She wanted that. Wanted a man who would treat her as if she was the most important thing in his life. “Guess it’s true what they say. Love changes a man.”
Glancing back at Cole, she was surprised to see a similar expression on Cole’s face. As if he, too, wanted someone in his life.
Interesting.
She cleared her throat, and he quickly smoothed his face back into an unfeeling expression.
Anna cocked her head. “I guess it does.”
His jaw flexed. “Yeah, well, needless to say, I won’t be joining Chris in matrimonial bliss anytime soon.”
“You never know.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Life surprises us sometimes.”
“Yeah, well.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Not me.”
Without another word, he walked away from her. She stood there alone, watching his retreating figure, filled with a million questions she couldn’t ask him. She stiffened, because she thought she could feel Brett’s eyes on her, and even though she ached to turn around and see if she was right about him watching her, she didn’t. She wouldn’t spend the whole wedding thinking about him and miss out on her brother’s big weekend. She would laugh, and flirt, and have fun. She’d forget all about Brett Ross, and how she felt when he stared at her from across the room. H
e could keep on screwing all the mean girls who’d ignored him throughout high school, and she’d keep living her life…without him in it. Though he might be the love of her life, she wasn’t his.
And it was time to accept that.
Chapter Three
Brett swished the little bit of whiskey he had left in the bottom of his glass, his attention on the crowded room. All these people were so free with their laughter, and smiles, and gestures of affection. So willing to show the world their feelings and thoughts, and to not hide a damn thing from anyone. He could only remember being so happy and free with one person. Anna.
Then again, he’d bet the entire company stock of Ross-Handler Inc. that none of these people, except for the Hamilton family, would have ever given him the time of day. Not that he gave a damn about that, or them, of course. Being left out all throughout childhood had hardened him and turned him into the ruthless businessman he was today, who acquired family companies that failed and took over them without batting an eye. Thanks to them, he never thought twice when he made a deal with the devil, and he always succeeded because he kept a cool, clear head at all times. People like the ones in this room were quick to forget about his past the second he inherited his trust fund, so he was quick to take their money when they offered it. And when the women who used to laugh at him threw themselves at him…
Well, he caught them.
For a night.
These people had taught him a valuable life lesson. Never trust anyone. Never let them close. And most importantly, you’re better off on your own.
No one let you down that way.
He’d grown up in his aunt and uncle’s care, but they’d barely tolerated each other, and they’d hated him…but they loved his money as much as they hated each other, which was saying a hell of a lot.
It was no wonder he didn’t put much stock in marriage and children as an adult. The lawyer who handled his accounts, an old buddy of his father’s, kept pushing him to do his duty and marry so his father’s company didn’t die with him, but he’d rather walk off a damn cliff. He never wanted a wife, or kid, to depend on him for their health and happiness. What if he had family and, God forbid, something happened to him and his fictional wife? Who would care for his child? His aunt and uncle?
The CEO's Seduction (A Hamilton Family Series) Page 2