I’m not qualified for the job, though. Claiming he wants me to work for him because of my secret-keeping skills? That’s not enough. He has another motive. I just haven’t figured it out yet.
“Come on, Jensen. You know you want the position. Just say yes, sign the NDA, and the job is yours.” He smiles, a flash of blinding white teeth, his brows lifted expectantly.
I glance around the mostly empty room, tucking my hair behind my ear. I’m apprehensive, yet tempted, and he knows it.
He thinks he’s got me.
Rhett
I need to talk to you.
My phone lights up in the darkness from where it sits on my nightstand and I reach for it, checking the text notification from…
Jensen.
It’s past eleven and thank Christ we’re on break for Thanksgiving week, but I had a basketball game earlier and I’m wiped out. I was trying to go to sleep but my mind was filled of thoughts of Jensen, which is nothing new. I can’t shake her no matter how hard I try, though I’m not really trying that hard.
Unplugging my phone from the charger, I start typing.
What’s up?
She answers me immediately.
Can I call you?
A mixture of hope and irritation fills me. This better not be a bunch of misleading bullshit.
What about?
I don’t want to tell you over text.
Then maybe you shouldn’t tell me over the phone either.
How else can I talk to you then?
Biting my lip, I contemplate what I want to say next.
Aw, fuck it.
Come over here.
She takes what feels like forever to answer me, when it was probably only a couple of minutes.
I can’t. Savannah’s at work. I don’t have a car.
Take an Uber.
I don’t want to. It’s too late. Might not be safe.
I don’t respond yet, because I can see the little gray bubble that she’s still typing. She takes so long, I wonder if it’s a trick, but then finally another text appears.
You should come over here.
Another text.
I need you.
My heart starts to race. I want to go over there. I do. For once, she’s not pushing me away. She needs me.
She might be using you.
I push the annoying thought into the far corners of my brain.
Before I say something stupid via text and ruin everything, I decide to call her instead.
“You really want me to come over?” It’s the first thing I say when she answers.
“Yes.” She lowers her voice. “I can’t talk about it over the phone, Rhett. I don’t feel comfortable saying it like this.”
Damn, what could it be?
Guilt swamps me when I think of my secret I’m keeping. I’ve called Uncle Craig a couple of times and left him messages, but he still hasn’t called me back. I want to tell her that the man she thinks is Greg is really my uncle, but how?
“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be there,” I tell her, ending the call before she can change her mind.
I hop out of bed and slip on some clothes—shorts and a black hoodie—and I’m in the car and headed to Savannah’s apartment in under five minutes. I arrive at the apartment in less than fifteen and when Jensen answers the door, she looks surprised to see me.
“That was fast.” She opens the door wider to let me in.
“You told me you needed me.” I sound like a sap, but damn it, I want her to realize that if she ever needs me, I’m there for her. Always.
She slowly shuts the door and then locks it, leaning against it when she’s done. I’m standing in the middle of the tiny living room, both of us staring at each other from across the small space. She’s wearing a pair of tiny pale blue shorts and one of my T-shirts she must’ve snagged. Seeing her in my shirt, looking small and vulnerable and so goddamn beautiful, I want to yank her into my arms and never let her go. Confess my secret, confess my feelings and hope like hell she’ll be as real with me as I want to be with her.
“I don’t know how to start,” she finally says, her gaze meeting mine.
“Just tell me what happened,” I say, my tone coaxing. I know without a doubt that something happened to push her to seek me out.
“Let’s sit on the couch.” She waves her hand toward it and we both settle in, me on one end and her on the other, like we don’t want to get too close.
We’re being ridiculous right now, but I’ll take what I can get.
“I’ve been looking for a job. Savannah showed me one of those career job sites that you upload your resume on, so I did it, thinking I’ll never hear from someone, because Savannah said she never has, but it wouldn’t hurt, right?” She’s rambling, and I can feel her nervous energy. She’s got her foot propped on the coffee table in front of her and she’s bouncing her knee, making the table shake.
“Okay.” I say the word slowly, frowning at her. I have no idea where she’s going with this.
“So a business contacted me the very next day, asking if I’d come in for an interview. A place called MP Industries, and they’re looking for an administrative assistant. I have zero qualifications for that sort of job, but I’d love to find a nine to five position, so of course I go for the interview.” She pauses, her gaze meeting mine once more. “You’ll never believe who was waiting there to interview me.”
Apprehension fills me, making me sick to my stomach. God, it could be anyone, but I’m specifically thinking of Uncle Craig. “Who?” I ask weakly.
“Park.”
It takes a moment for the word to sink in, but once it does, I’m leaping to my feet, my hands on my hips, my head feeling like it’s going to explode. “What the actual fuck? Park interviewed you? For what business?”
“MP Industries.” Never heard of it. “I figured out it stands for Montgomery Parker. He reversed his initials.”
“I don’t understand.” I feel like a complete idiot, but what she’s saying doesn’t make any sense.
With a sigh she looks away, staring into the far-off distance. “Park said he was starting his own business because he’s mad at your father. I think he feels like he’s devoted his entire career to your dad and he gets nothing in return.”
“Right. He only gets a huge salary and barely has to work. Whatever.” I actually snort, I’m so disgusted.
She turns to look at me once more. “I’m just saying what I think your brother might feel, not that it’s right.” Her gaze is wide and earnest. “I think he wants to somehow screw your dad over with his new business. I don’t know his actual plan or anything, but he says he chose me to be his assistant because I know how to keep a secret.”
Well. Park’s right about that. “And so he hired you as his assistant?”
Jensen sinks her teeth into her lower lip for a moment. “He wanted me to sign a NDA before he’d tell me anything substantial.”
“So you can’t discuss the details with me, then.” This is complete bullshit. Now my brother is trying to get my—girlfriend? whatever the hell Jensen is—to work for him? So they can both somehow sabotage our father? Fuck that. I start heading for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice panicked.
“I’m gonna go talk to Park. Find out what the hell he’s trying to do.”
“Rhett! Don’t leave!” She’s right behind me now, tugging on my arm, and I turn to face her. “Please. Let me finish.”
I cross my arms, quietly fuming. “Go on then. Tell me,” I bite out.
With a sigh she rubs her forehead, then lets her arm fall to her side. “I didn’t sign the NDA. I didn’t accept the position, even though he wants to pay me over a hundred grand a year.”
My jaw hangs open. “Seriously?” What the hell is Park up to?
“Yes, seriously. But I don’t want to work for Park. Your father has been nothing but kind to me since I met him. I don’t want to risk making him mad, you know?” Her shoulders slump
and she looks so defeated, so sad, I give in to impulse and pull her into my arms, holding her close.
“You did the right thing,” I murmur against her soft hair, running my hand up and down her back, loving the feel of her so snug in my arms. “I’m glad you turned him down.”
“He really tried to guilt me into it too. Well, more like bribe me into it. He kept talking about my salary and perks of the job.” Her voice is muffled against my chest and I strain to hear her. “I don’t get what he’s trying to do, Rhett. I don’t know why he wants me involved.”
To get back at Dad and me? But why me? What did I ever do to him? I’m keeping his and Diane’s secret, and it’s a big one. A life changer.
Why would he want to piss me off?
Of course, he already pissed me off at Addie’s party when he called out Jensen for her job. That was utter bullshit. He’s being so careless, like he just doesn’t give a damn.
One day, his carelessness is going to bite him in the ass.
“He hasn’t been making the best decisions lately,” I say.
That’s an understatement. He’s been screwing up left and right.
Jensen pulls away so she can look up at me. “After I left the interview, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And how I needed to tell you the truth.”
I frown. “The truth about what?”
She seems to hesitate, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a shaky exhale. “The truth about…” Her voice drifts and she closes her eyes. Shakes her head once. “About this. About what your brother asked me to do.”
Maybe she was trying to tell me something else. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I do. There are more secrets here. I have them, she has them, and I don’t know how to confess mine.
Maybe she feels the same exact way.
Jensen
Because I’m weak, I let Rhett stay the night. We sleep wrapped around each other on the tiny double bed in Savannah’s even tinier second bedroom that I’ve been using, my head on his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling me to sleep. Nothing happens sexually, which is fine by me. I’m emotionally exhausted and I think he is too. I can’t keep up with the lies and the outlandish requests.
Worse, after much discussion with Rhett, neither of us can figure out Park’s motive in asking me to be his assistant, beyond his odd “you know how to keep a secret” reasoning. That’s not good enough.
There has to be something more.
I wake up in the morning to find my face still pressed against Rhett’s now bare chest, his thick arms holding me tight, our legs tangled together. I’m sure I have wicked morning breath and I bet he does too, so I’m trying to disengage myself from his hold so I can go brush my teeth. But my pulling away seems to make him only hold on to me tighter, and when I lift my head to check on him, I find that he’s awake, watching me with narrowed eyes, a tiny smile curving his perfectly sculpted lips.
“You can’t get away that easily,” he murmurs, his sleep-roughened voice extra sexy, making everything within me tingle with awareness.
Of course.
“I wanted to go brush my teeth,” I admit, going for honesty. If we’re really going to make this work, I need to be open with him.
One step at a time though. One step at a time.
“I probably should too.” He doesn’t let go of me, though. It’s like he’s not going anywhere and I squirm against him, trying to slither out of his grip. “Not yet, babe. You’re so warm.”
Aw. My heart does a flip at him calling me babe in that sleepy-sexy voice of his. I push thoughts of bad breath out of my brain and snuggle in close, enjoying his warmth, the smooth skin of his chest, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat. I could go back to sleep if I wanted to. Escaping the pressures of reality for a few more hours sounds awfully pleasant…
But then I feel Rhett’s large hand on my butt, caressing me there, his fingers tickling, making me wiggle. It feels like his hand is actually on my skin, burning me, lighting me up inside, and when he slides his hand to the front of my shorts and dips inside, I suck in a sharp breath at first touch.
“No panties?” He doesn’t sound surprised as he slides his fingers between my thighs.
“No.” I shift, spreading my legs a little bit, giving him better access.
“How’d I know you’d be so wet?” he murmurs against my forehead, his fingers gliding back and forth, searching me, penetrating me easily. He groans, his thumb pressing against my clit.
We turn into a fumbling mass of bodies, him pulling away from me, me rolling onto my back and kicking my shorts off. He rids himself of his underwear as I reach out and touch him, smooth and hard and wet at the tip, all for me. I stroke him and he strokes me, our breathing accelerating in tandem, that familiar rush already looming. I pull Rhett on top of me, his hips nestling in between my legs, and he enters me with ease.
Every time. Every damn time it’s so good, it almost pisses me off. He touches my clit as he pumps inside of me, making sure I get off. Always thoughtful, always sweet Rhett, just as concerned about my pleasure as his own.
He’s too good for me. I keep thinking this, reminding myself, but I can’t help it when he proves to me again and again just how great he is.
It’s downright annoying.
We forget all about morning breath as he kisses me deep, his tongue everywhere, circling around mine. I’m too caught up in the tingly sensation of my impending orgasm to worry about anything else. He slides, deep, deeper, deeper still, and then I’m clinging to him, overcome as every bone in my body feels like it’s going to melt into a puddle, I’m quivering and shaking and whispering his name. He follows soon after me, his hips pressed close to mine like he’s trying to burrow inside of me, his mouth against my neck as he groans.
When it’s all over and he’s rolling away from me, I murmur, “You do realize we’ve never used a condom.”
He’s lying on his back next to me, breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling. The moment the word condom falls from my lips, he whips his head to the side, his gaze meeting mine. “Fuck,” he says with a gulp.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing lots of that.” I roll on my side to face him, reaching out to touch his hair. It’s thick and soft, the strands clinging to my fingers, and he closes his eyes as I continue to play with his hair. We should’ve had this conversation eons ago. “I’m on the pill, though, so we should be good. Unless…”
His eyes fall closed. I know he likes it when I touch his hair. “Unless what?”
“Unless you’re full of STDs.”
“I’m not.” His eyes open and he stares at me, fierce sincerity in his gaze. “I get tested every year when I get my athletic physical.”
“I don’t have an STD either.” At least six months ago I didn’t, when I got my free physical and birth control prescription from the college clinic.
“Then we’re good.” He winces. “I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” I tell him, but he shakes his head, silencing me.
“I am. I’ve told myself before to grab a condom, but every single time we’re together, it’s like I can’t even—think. And that’s the lamest excuse ever, right?”
No, not really. I pretty much feel the same exact way.
“You probably think I’m a selfish asshole because I’ve never talked about any of this with you before.”
I heave a big sigh. “Rhett, you are the least selfish person I know, I swear. I guess we’re always just…too caught up in the moment.”
“Yeah. That’s not a good enough excuse, though, right?”
“You’re going to beat yourself up over it?”
“No, I guess not. Unless you want to beat me up for it.”
“I don’t.” I can’t help but smile at him.
His smile in return is boyishly sweet. “Let’s take a nap. Sex makes me sleepy.”
I laugh but don’t protest when he pulls me back into his arms.
Rhett takes me to lunch at a small sandwich shop that’s
in a shopping center with a major supermarket. The parking lot is full—everyone in the store buying all of their Thanksgiving needs before the holiday, so we have to park in the farthest corner of the lot.
“This place is insane,” he mutters as he takes my hand and leads me toward the sandwich shop.
The easy way he clasps my hand in his makes me giddy, and I tell myself to chill. This is no big deal. Being with Rhett like this could actually happen if I let it. But I need to come clean.
Maybe I should now, at lunch? Before Thanksgiving, so he at least knows what Diane means to me? What he means to me? That, in all actuality, he’s my stepbrother?
Yeah. So weird. I’m attempting a relationship with my stepbrother. I sound like some girl straight out of a romance novel, right?
“Everyone’s shopping for turkeys and mashed potatoes,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice light, all while my head is swimming with potential conversation starters.
Hey, Rhett, I have something I need to tell you…
Yeah, no.
This is no big deal, but hey! I’m your stepsister!
Talk about shocking.
Diane may be your stepmom, but she’s my actual mom. Like, for real.
There is no easy way for me to tell him this. Easing into it seems the best tactic, while blurting out the facts over lunch might be the easiest. Like pulling a Band-Aid off, you know? Quick and easy and relatively painless.
Well, somewhat painless.
Fine, it’s going to hurt no matter what.
“You okay?” Rhett asks me as we enter the sandwich shop. There’s a line at the counter, and we stop almost just as soon as we walk in. When I shoot him a questioning look, he continues. “You seem distracted.”
“I am, a little.” But I can’t admit why while we wait in line to order. This is the last place I can drop my truth bomb. “Still thinking about what Park did yesterday.”
That’s also true. I still don’t understand what Park is up to. I usually have guys like that figured out. But he’s like a big question mark in my head. I don’t know what he wants from me. Or what he wants from any of us.
Damaged Hearts - Monica Murphy Page 5