by Lindsey Hart
Thankfully his mom pushed back and gathered up her purse, a pretty clear indication she was leaving.
“Call me tomorrow,” she commanded before she turned and walked to the door. Of course, she couldn’t leave it at that. She wouldn’t be his mom if she could. “And come around to the house for breakfast tomorrow. You’re looking too thin. Maybe if you actually have my waffles for the first time in ages, you’ll understand why your brother couldn’t keep it a secret when I questioned why he was acting so strange.”
“I almost feel sorry for him,” Jesse quipped.
His mom shot him the mom look, the kind that could wither even the stoutest, bravest, toughest soul. “Tomorrow,” she flung at him before she made her grand exit.
The only thing Jesse could do was wait until that glass door shut. He needed a minute to himself and he wasn’t going to get it sitting at his desk where everyone walking by could see him. He could have left, but he didn’t want to risk getting ambushed in the hall when he tried to make his escape.
Instead, he stalked over to his desk, ducked down, and crawled underneath. He took his cell with him and flipped it open, expecting a few messages.
There was nothing yet.
Which tied his stomach, his chest, and even though he didn’t want to admit it- his heart, into knots. Syd apparently wasn’t ready to go quietly.
He hadn’t really expected anything less, but still, a guy had a right to hope.
He had to give his head a shake when he realized how screwed up all of this was. He was willing to admit that blabbing to Sam last night might have been a huge mistake. As in, he’d fucked up royally. Yeah. That royally needed to be there.
He was going to have to wait a few hours until Syd arrived at his house before he’d get to find out just how badly. And now that his mom knew?
He was pretty dang sure he was never going to hear the end of it.
Ever.
CHAPTER 4
Sydney
After she’d dressed and agreed to go with Francis not Francis, or Jeeves- whatever, just so that he’d finally leave her in peace, Sydney was driven to a ring shop. She was told to pick something out that she liked, which she refused to do. Francis not Francis didn’t like that. She’d hoped to convince him, by being on her worst behavior, to take her home and tell his boss to go fuck himself.
Like, with his hand.
Except that she was pretty sure that Jesse was capable of getting a lot more than his hand. He could have any woman he wanted. She hadn’t exactly missed the fact that he was now obscenely rich or that his company for a new brand of moisture-wicking underwear for both women and men, had really taken off. As in, his name was on billboards and magazines.
The damn company was called something along the lines of Samson’s tighty unwhities. Or maybe it was Steel Gotch. God. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but it had some stupid name like that, and her brain was hurting. All she wanted to do was go home.
After refusing to pick out a ring, which told her that either Jesse was playing one hell of a prank on her, or that he was dead serious- a horrible thought that she refused to consider because it scared the bejesus out of her, she was taken to a dress store and again, Francis not Francis, told her to pick something she liked and somehow, magically, they’d produce it for her up in Philly.
Yeah. That was so not happening.
“What am I going to do with you?” Francis not Francis asked from the front seat.
He carefully navigated the black SUV back into traffic, away from the dress shop he’d pretty much had to force her into.
“Not drag me around the city hungover as hell,” she ground out, “just for starters.”
“Not my problem. I have my instructions. I’m sticking to them.”
“Yeah, well, how about you get your boss on the phone and we talk this out like normal people?”
“No can do. Orders.”
Sydney sighed, the kind of sigh that filled up the entire SUV. “Well, if you can’t get him on the phone then take me to the stupid jet and let’s go. Let’s waste a fuck ton of resources flying across the country just so I can tell him to his face that this was all a shitty, stupid, drunk mistake.”
The SUV lurched over to the side of the street so fast that cars honked all around them, and Sydney was tossed nearly across the backseat into the opposite window, even with her seatbelt on.
Francis not Francis slammed the vehicle into park and wrenched around in the driver’s seat, his mild-mannered face not nearly so mild-mannered any longer. Sydney righted herself and shrank back against her seat. She wished, not for the first time, that she’d brought her Taser with her. She had one hidden in the cupboard in the kitchen, though she was pretty dang sure that procuring one from a pawn shop out the back was seriously not legit.
She didn’t bring it out for just anyone.
Okay, she’d never brought it out.
Once.
There was never anyone special enough to deserve it.
For Francis not Francis and his rich as hell boss, a Jesse she didn’t even know, a guy who got super rich by selling expensive as hell underwear, she might have to make an exception. If she ever saw her home again.
Given the way that Francis not Francis was currently scowling at her with a look so black it could turn even the devil’s heart to stone, it was looking less and less like she was going to come out on top of the whole screwed up situation.
Remind me to throw my phone into the damn toilet before I go out drinking, just so I can’t drunk text. Drunk message. Drunk Post. Whatever.
“Listen here, little miss entitled pants. Wipe that look off your face and keep your hands where I can see them. There is no way in hell that you’re going to pepper spray me.”
Holy shit. The guy was a bloody mind reader. If only he knew she wasn’t thinking about something as innocent as pepper spray. Or even hair spray. She didn’t have anything in her purse but a pack of gum, a few stray tissues probably too wadded up to be of any use, her wallet, her phone, and her house keys.
Sydney shifted uncomfortably in the seat. “Yeah, well, you can’t just come here and take me. My mom will wonder where the heck I’ve gone.”
“You have a cell phone. Get it out and use it.”
“I… you shouldn’t even be here. That shit I wrote online wasn’t serious. I was drunk-”
“I don’t care what you were,” Francis not Francis snarls, and holy shit, he’s pretty scary when he’s not all butlery. Like he might actually be an old bodyguard dude in training. The kind of guy who doesn’t have to be big to kick a person’s ass with some karate action. Or maybe his gun does all the talking.
Okay. Getting a tad bit carried away here.
“What you’re going to do, fancy pants is text your mother. Tell her what happened. Tell her you’re on your way to reconnect with an old friend and he’s paying your way for the week. I don’t know. Tell her whatever you want. Make something up. Just do it. I don’t care. Maybe you should have thought of that before you started writing all sorts of stupid things online like a careless, inconsiderate, little brat. What you are not going to do is hurt my boss’ feelings.”
“Oh, your poor spoiled boss,” Sydney retorted because she was so past being done with the bossy butler type dude. Turned out he was a Grade A asshole. “He has all the money in the world. Cars. Houses. Freakin’ whatever he wants, he can get. I don’t think he’ll be disappointed that a girl he grew up with and never bothered to get in contact with since we graduated, wrote something stupid online in a drunk moment of blacked-out weakness that she doesn’t even remember. Go tell him to find a supermodel. I guarantee she’ll have better tits.”
Sydney swore she almost had Francis not Francis smiling. He somehow hung on to a shred of decorum and turned his near amusement back into a crinkly frown that ruffled his brow and etched the corners of his eyes into deep lines.
“Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“About yourself in third person?”
“No. Never. Look. I just want to go home. Drive me there and leave me. Tell your boss that I’m not interested, and I made a mistake. That I was blacked out and I would never, in any sane or rational moment, ever put something like that out there.”
“That’s so? Maybe it was your subconscious talking.”
“Or maybe it was the drink.”
“Maybe it wasn’t.”
“Can you just drive me home?” Sydney crossed her arms over her chest. She pushed out her lips in a petulant pout.
“Nope. You dug yourself in. You’ll dig yourself out. I’m not going to be the one to go back to Philly and break that poor kid’s heart.”
“I’m sure. I’m sure he’d be really heartbroken.”
Something in the back of her aching brain tugged and fuzzed, like the way the hairs stand up on the back of a person’s arms. Her brain was doing that. Minus the hair. And the arm. It felt weird, like the old dude’s words brought something to the surface that she’d never really thought about and didn’t want to begin thinking about.
“I’m taking you to the airport now. You’ll like the jet.”
She let out a growl that had absolutely no effect, as Francis not Francis seemed pretty damn happy with himself. He turned around in his seat, put the SUV in gear and guided them back into traffic.
All she could do was pout.
A few hours later, when the jet landed in Philly, Sydney had to admit that he was right, the old bastard who basically had kidnapped her and not listened to a single word of protest or reason. She had enjoyed the jet. It was pretty sweet flying in a private plane.
She actually resigned herself on the ride over to what she assumed was Jesse’s house. She’d go there, tell him it was all a mistake, make him understand, and demand he fly her back home. She wouldn’t even have to tell her mom that she was gone. She didn’t want to tell her a single thing, because she knew her mom had always really liked Jesse. Like, way too much. More than she even liked her some days.
Except that it wasn’t Jesse waiting for her on the front lawn of a house that the words like massive, sprawling, and even mansion did little to describe. The area is brand new, a suburb for the rich and maybe even the famous, a gated community with houses that sprang up out of the ground like granite mountains.
It was his mom and dad, and oh yeah, those were definitely tears of straight fucking joy leaking down his mom’s face.
Sydney leaned back against the seat with a groan.
She was so royally effed.
CHAPTER 5
Jesse
He had been waiting an hour for the car to pull up. Martin texted as soon as the plane landed, so he wasn’t sure what the heck took them so long to pull up.
He couldn’t believe it when he rushed to the door and found his parents standing on the front lawn. Parents. As in plural. With an S.
Jesse barely restrained a groan before he ripped open the door. “Mom?” He called to her just as Martin got out of the SUV. He heard the slam of the driver’s side door. “What the heck are you doing here?” he hissed under his breath so that only his parents could hear him and his voice wouldn’t travel to the street, or, god forbid, to any of the neighbors. The last thing he needed was a bored housewife leaning out her window, yelling things down at them or recording the whole thing in hopes of getting somewhat internet famous. “I thought I told you to stay away and let me work this out!”
Of course, his mom was standing there on the lawn crying. Leaking real tears of joy down her cheeks. Her hands were clasped so tight that her knuckles were white. There was a radiant flush riding high on her cheekbones. His father looked skeptical, doubtful, and pissed off that he’d been dragged away from his afternoon golf game or sports watching or newspaper reading, to come down and take part in what promised to be nothing short of complete and utter drama.
“Mom!” Jesse hissed again when she didn’t answer him. “I wanted to meet Sydney here and talk to her myself. We both know that this might not… be what it seems.”
His mother completely ignored him. Jesse could only watch helplessly as Martin stalked around to the other side of the SUV and opened the door. And there Sydney was, in all her dark-haired, dark-eyed glory. Beautiful did not begin to do her justice. She stepped out of that back seat like a queen arriving at a red carpet event. A queen clad in tight jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt that hung off her shoulder and defined her perky breasts which didn’t appear to have a bra on, but a queen none the less.
Jesse found himself subtly adjusting his package, which had hardened to a state of utter embarrassment given that his parents were standing five feet in front of him and the entire neighborhood was looking on and he was still in his work clothes, wearing a pair of crisply pressed black slacks that were expensive and tailored a little too well in the crotch area to hide the massive boner he was sporting like a high school kid in gym class.
He could only watch helplessly as his mother ran. Frickin’ ran straight to that SUV. She didn’t let Sydney get so much as a breath off after she’d stepped out before she was enveloped in a tight hug. Since his mom was pretty short and Sydney was astoundingly tall, achingly beautiful, a luscious, raven-haired goddess, the whole thing looked pretty comical. It wasn’t. It wasn’t funny at all.
“Well, son, it looks like you’re royally screwed.” His dad had the nerve to clap him on the back so hard the air rushed out of his lungs. “Don’t break your mother’s heart now.”
“I told her not to get her hopes up and not to get involved. She knows exactly what this is. It’s Sam that you should be nearly killing with your crazy back slaps,” Jesse squeezed out when he could get enough air into his lungs.
“Well, your mom isn’t taking no for an answer. She’s like a hungry wolf who has sensed blood and she’s going in for the kill.”
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut. “Thanks, dad. That’s a great analogy.”
His dad just shrugged, and Jesse didn’t like the look in his eyes, a cross between utter horror and something sheepish like he was just there to keep his wife happy or he’d never hear the end of it.
“Welcome home, Syd,” his mom was saying, as she pulled away. She wasn’t just leaking joy out of her eyes now, she was damn well watering the lawn. Or, the sidewalk, as it was. “You can’t know how happy this makes me! I’ve waited years for this. Years!”
“I- er…” Sydney’s dark eyes flashed to him and the look there was absolutely murderous.
Her lips pulled into a thin line and the blush riding on her golden skin just above her finely carved cheekbones wasn’t there due to pleasure, he was pretty dang sure. She had a beautiful face. Always had. He never stood a chance when it came to her. She was pretty as a little girl and when she’d turned into a woman, god… it just wasn’t fair to the male species that she was blessed with that heart-shaped face, huge eyes, thick lashes, full lips, tiny perfect nose. She was five nine and for her height, she shouldn’t have been blessed with curves like she was or her boobs.
Jesus, those boobs.
They were practically staring him in the face like a set of headlights and he was the deer about to get smacked by the oncoming truck. God, that’s a terrible analogy. He couldn’t look away though, and her nipples were definitely staring him back. Those hard little points were having a standoff with her t-shirt. Or, more accurately, with him.
“I’ve been waiting ages for this!” His mom took Sydney’s hands in her own and chaffed them like it was cold out and not the middle of summer. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me! All those nasty girls Jesse used to date, girls who were just with him for his money, girls who just wanted to get themselves knocked up with his baby so they’d be set for life-”
“Mom!” Jesse cut in. He was already moving forward before his mom could finish that sentence
He stalked down the length of the front yard, which was just grass. Immaculate grass, but no fancy fixtures so far. He hadn’
t exactly got around to ordering one like the rest of the neighbors on the block. He didn’t give two shits if he had trees or a flower garden in the place, a damn fountain with a water fixture, benches, a statue here and there, any of it. He’d just moved in three months ago and already the neighborhood was seriously grating on him.
Sydney’s face was a shade of red he’d never seen before. Her eyes swept to his face and he knew he was in for it the minute they got inside. She was never going to believe he hadn’t put his parents up to this. Showing up and guilting her into being with him over that status. He never should have blurted anything to his stupid brother who couldn’t keep his stupid fat mouth shut.
“Mom,” Jesse ground out. He smiled at his mother, as sweetly as he could, which was probably the equivalent of a mouse turning around and flipping off the bastard who had just screamed on finding it and smacked at it with a broom. “Seriously. We should go inside now. Sydney and I. Alone. Thanks for- erm- coming and all that, but we really need to talk.”
His mom’s eyes shone, and her bottom lip started going, trembling and puckering like he’d just told her she had three and a half seconds to live.
“But- but… honey, we’re so excited. Our babies, all grown up. I always knew this was right. You two together. You were the most adorable friends growing up and I knew one day it would turn into something else.”
“Mom!” I am seriously a dead man.
Sydney stood there, for the first time in ten years in front of him, right there, on his sidewalk, her mouth hanging open, just as dumbfounded as he was.
Jesse hedged, caught in between trying to save his balls, which were likely to be cut off by Sydney the second she got the chance, and between trying to keep his mother from having a nervous breakdown. She was cautiously optimistic, but he was something else entirely, considering he didn’t even know the woman standing before him anymore. She was little more than a stranger, ten years of distance and time between them.