by Casey Diam
It had been a temporary solution, but pointless; the disturbing thought of Jordan hooking up with Greg still fucked with his mind daily.
“I can’t believe we talked all night,” he told Jordan. “Not fucked, but talked? Shit, I may be a changed man.”
“I doubt that.”
“Yeah, me too. It’s because you have a boyfriend. You know that, right? Are you sure you don’t want to give us a second chance?” His hand scampered up to the back of her neck, and he felt the urge to bury his cock inside her. He smiled as she stiffened on cue. “Last night would have gone a lot differently; no limit to the things I would have done to you.”
She gasped and stepped away from him. “Brandon, you can’t say stuff like that. I told you no flirting. We shouldn’t even hang out so much. Last night I—it’s really confusing.”
“I know.” He swallowed, having a hard time balancing what his mind wanted with what the rest of him wanted. As he spotted the pain in her eyes, something else occurred to him: he trusted her. His armor was gone. Smiling, he shook his head. How had she gotten in, and why wasn’t he worried?
“What?” Jordan asked.
Hailey, his bleeding heart echoed, arousing memories of the devastating pain he’d felt so long ago. “I fucking love you. Why, why would you do this to me?”
He should be worried.
If he trusted her, he could fall in love with her. She deserved happiness and someone who could give it to her.
Frowning, he looked Jordan square in the eye. “Nothing. I’m glad you found someone. And you’re right, we need some distance from each other. I should know better.”
One week later, a low fog blocked the sun, but the air wasn’t as humid as the morning looked. Dogs wagged their tails on the sidewalk as their owners treated them to an early walk.
Jordan turned into a parking space at the café, and with the few cars in the parking lot, she knew service would be fast—just the way she liked it. She sat at the breakfast bar and was soon greeted by a waitress she didn’t recognize.
The girl’s bright white smile welcomed her. “Good morning. Would you like a menu?”
Jordan looked at the girl’s name tag. “Good morning, Clair. And no menu, thank you. But I’m in desperate need of a medium black coffee and a glass of warm water with lemon, please. Are you new here?”
“Yes, I started a week ago,” Clair explained.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m somewhat of a regular. Not every-day regular, but you’ll see.” Jordan smiled.
Clair laughed. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
While sipping on her coffee, the ever-present Brandon crossed her mind. Though it had been a week since she’d spent the night at his house, she couldn’t get his shirtless, defined body or the cutest set of brown freckles lining his shoulders and nose out of her head. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on, but each time she acknowledged that, guilt surfaced. She was dating Greg, yet fascinated by Brandon—so fascinated it left her questioning her motives with Greg. Three dates and she couldn’t bring herself to desire anything more than kissing with him. But he was the right guy for her. Wasn’t he?
If only she could talk to Adrianna and Sam about her maddening emotions, but she couldn’t bring them up just yet. First, she needed to actually try with Greg. After all, he was the one she was dating, and she hadn’t been fair to him when she’d continued to hang out with someone else, namely Brandon, who possessed the power to pull and twist her to his will like a wind-up toy.
“Hi, Charlie.”
Jordan heard her brother’s voice from across the store. “Sebastian! What are you doing here?” she asked, pinning the dress in place on the mannequin.
“Just in the area. I see you’re already busy getting ready for Black Friday. How’s everything?”
“Good. How’s the little guy? I miss my baby. Why didn’t you bring him? And you, how are you doing?” Jordan set the last few pins in place before she stood back to look at the dress.
“We’re good. He’s been staying with Mom for the past few days. I think it’s good for her because it’s that time of the year again,” Sebastian said, pulling on his full-grown beard.
“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe it’s been fifteen years since we lost them . . . Zack would have been twenty-two this year. It’s harder when I think about it that way.” Jordan frowned as her brother’s eyes squeezed shut.
“I know the feeling. On a happier note, I’ve been dating someone for a while. Mom has met her, and Max.” Folding his lips, he placed his fist into the palm of his other hand. “I want you to meet her.”
“Oh, wow! That’s great. I’m so happy for you. What’s her name?”
“Kristal. She’s a bit older, but a really cool person. If you were on social media, you would know this,” he teased, getting his phone out.
“Oh, she’s lovely,” Jordan said, staring at the dark-haired beauty her brother was hugging in the picture on his phone. “You seem happy together. How old is she? What does she do for a living? Does she have any kids? Has she ever been married?”
Sebastian grinned. “This is why I waited so long to introduce you. She’s thirty, divorced, and has a ten-year-old son. But she’s great. I promise.”
Jordan smiled at the happiness glowing in her brother’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll meet her. Just let me know when.” As she walked toward the counter for the pieces to dress the other mannequin, her phone rang.
Sebastian followed her to the counter. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Sam’s parents, I think.” Sarah’s name lit up her phone screen, and her heart skipped a beat at the thought of her and Sarah’s mutual friend. “I’m really not sure yet. I’ll text you.”
“Okay.” He turned to walk out, then turned back to her. “By the way, who’s Brandon?”
Jordan blinked. “What? How do you know about Brandon?”
Sebastian glanced at Charlie, who adjusted her oval glasses on her face, then looked to Jordan again. “I have my sources,” he said. “You can’t hide anything from me, big sis.” He walked off, leaving her to wonder what he knew.
She swiped the green answer key on her phone. “Hey, Sarah. What’s up?”
“I won’t be able to get to the nail salon until thirty minutes later than we agreed. Is that okay?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, of course. I’ll see you later.” She couldn’t wait to snoop into Brandon’s life. Dammit, Greg is my priority. Why was there a constant battle of emotions? It should be easy. Dating Greg should be easy, and so should not thinking about Brandon.
“Jordan.” Charlie gestured. “The accountant.”
She greeted the accountant and showed her back to her office, where it took an hour to go over her finances. She learned she needed to figure out how much risk she was willing to take, as opening a new store could turn into a huge loss. It would take a lot of work if she decided to go that route. However, she knew Sam was ready to partner with her to promote her brand, and she’d been keeping track of what clients were buying and working on her sketchpad to create something special. So it could work out. She just needed to resume focus.
Her phone vibrated.
Greg: Just parked. I’ll come meet you at your store.
Then her phone rang. Brandon. They hadn’t spoken in over a week.
Unsure of herself, she hesitated. How and when did things become so complicated? “Brandon, hey!”
“Hey, you,” he said, a distinct note of cheer in his voice. “How are you?”
“Good. And you?” Jordan asked, grabbing her purse from her desk.
“The happiest I’ve been in a while. Things are looking good for my mom. Her oncologist said the cells haven’t returned this time around. I can’t believe it. I’m in shock right now.”
Jordan paused. “Wait, what? Oh my gosh! Brandon, that’s amazing. I’m glad she’s doing better. This is so exciting!”
“My dad told me, and I hardly believed it until I heard fr
om her myself. Apparently my mom and dad agreed to do a clinical trial without telling me because of the risk associated with it. But turns out it’s working. Shit, you have no idea how happy I am right now.”
A burden she hadn’t realized she was carrying dissolved. “Thank you for telling me. I’m so happy for you and your family.”
“Thanks. I actually have a favor to ask of you. Well, not really a favor—my mom wanted to know if you could join us for Thanksgiving. You don’t have to. I know you must have plans, but she and I would like you to be there, if you can.”
Her attention turned to the music and conversations in the background of his phone, and then she got distracted by another text from Greg.
“Jordan?”
“Oh, sorry. I—ah . . . I don’t know what I’m doing yet, but I’ll let you know. What time do you guys usually get together?”
“Around noon, and we eat around four. My grandma, dad, and aunt are cooking. My mom will too, depending on how she’s feeling. My whole family will be there. I don’t want it to be weird, since, you know, Greg. But my mom asked me to ask you.”
“You’re making it weird, and also I don’t want to intrude on your family time. I mean, unless you don’t mind.” She walked out of her office and saw Greg, dressed in a dark gray T-shirt and jeans. “I . . . ah—Greg, hi,” she stuttered.
“Got it,” Brandon said. “Well, text me if you’re coming. I told her you’re dating someone, if that helps.”
Feeling shitty, Jordan frowned. “Okay, I’ll let you know.”
Stuffing her phone in her pocket, she embraced Greg. “Hey, you didn’t have to come in here. I could have met you in the food court.”
He gave her a brief peck on the lips. “I know, but your mom told me about the store, and I thought I would come check it out. You look nice.”
“Thank you,” Jordan said, catching Charlie’s peeping eyes. “Can you give me a minute?” She walked over to Charlie, who was refolding the stock of dress pants on the table.
“Not judging.” Charlie smiled and leaned forward, causing the set of keys hanging around her neck to dangle.
“It’s not what you think,” Jordan said, feeling the need to explain. “Brandon and I are friends.”
“Okay,” Charlie said.
Charlie had spoken a lot about her personal life in the past, but Jordan had never mentioned hers, until now.
“Seriously,” Jordan assured, skepticism at the back of her own mind. “Anyway, when Richie gets here, can you have him call me? I need him to find a material I can’t seem to find at any of the local vendors.”
“Yeah, of course.” As Jordan turned to walk away, Charlie added, “He’s adorable. I’m glad you’ve found someone.”
Jordan smiled. “Thank you.”
Greg took her to a small restaurant close to the mall, instead of the previously agreed-upon food court. The sun was now high in the sky and beaming down, but the weather was perfect. It couldn’t have been more than seventy degrees where they sat at their table outside.
“I’m going to Florida for Christmas,” Greg told her as they chatted. “It’s been some time since I’ve been back.”
“Oh really? That’s cool. I was just there.” She drank the water in her glass through a straw.
“You were? What part?”
“Miami,” Jordan said, immediately kicking herself. Her mind now went straight back to the person she shouldn’t be thinking about. She tried to steer the conversation toward Greg. “Which part of Florida are you from?”
“Fort Lauderdale, so not far from where you went. Do you have family or friends there?” Reaching across the table, he covered one of her hands with his, and though it was a sweet gesture, it felt robotic and lacking something . . .
“No. Just a quick getaway to clear my head,” Jordan said, staring at his hand over hers.
“By yourself?” he asked, rubbing the top of her hand with his thumb.
“Um, with a friend,” she answered, wanting to move her hand, but not wanting to seem rude. “Where was the last place you visited?”
“This makes me seem boring, but I haven’t traveled since my semester abroad five years ago. I work a lot—twelve-hour shifts, three or four times a week. Plus, I volunteer almost full time at the hospital.”
“That sounds like a lot. When do you have time to relax?”
“Right now, here with you,” Greg said, pulling his hand back and folding it across his chest. “You surprise me, though. Your mom described you as an introvert. She said I reminded her of you. That’s how we started talking, and she suggested we meet.”
Absorbed in work and not making time for anyone or anything else had been her until a certain whirlwind waltzed into her store. The breeze blew a few strands of her hair across her eyes, and she brushed it from her face as she leaned back in her chair.
“I am like that, sometimes. So, tell me about your volunteering. What does it involve? What do you do?”
His face lit up, and the rest of lunch was spent talking about the lack of people to provide hands-on help, and how the world had become more money motivated.
Greg was a good, stable guy. He could settle her, help her focus on the right things instead of throwing her emotions into an energy-consuming tantrum. Still, she sighed.
“How did this happen?” Brandon asked, pacing around Steve’s small office in Gold Coast, Australia.
The building was worth nowhere near the price he’d offered if he couldn’t redevelop it into a commercial property. His only other choice would be to turn it into a multifamily residential unit. At least he could still earn some income by leasing or selling that, but nothing close to what was originally predicted.
“I apologize, mate. The zoning was amended this year and just finalized two weeks ago. I don’t know how we missed it. I’m sorry; I know you really wanted this,” Steve said, leaning forward on his desk. Steve was a few years older than Brandon and wore his long hair combed into a man-bun.
“Since this information just came to light, is there any way we could change the offer?”
“No, I’ve already checked with the listing agent.” Steve frowned.
“But it was listed under commercial properties—they had to have known.” Brandon pulled his phone out. “I’m going to contact my lawyer. In the meantime, are there any other properties listed by that agency?”
“Yes, a few. There’s one by Surfers Paradise that’s already built up. It would only require a few tweaks to get up to your standards, instead of a complete demolition.” Steve pointed at his computer screen. “Take a look at this one. It’s one of the properties I sent you pictures of. We could have a look at it now that you’re here. It’s a decent one and is sitting on heaps of buildable acres.”
“Yeah, okay. Get me a showing on the top three properties, because the next time I’m here, I’ll be closing on one.”
“Should I call Elle?”
“Yes, please tell her to personally meet us there. Because to get out of that contract, I’m planning to sleep with her, if I have to.”
Steve smiled. “She’s fifty-three.”
Brandon winked. “Even better. She’ll know exactly how I’m about to fuck her when I threaten her with a lawsuit based on misrepresentation.”
Around seven in the evening, Brandon was ready for sleep after sighting properties and running through negotiations all day. A knock sounded on his hotel suite’s door, and he dragged himself from the comfort of the bed.
He opened the door for the delivery guy with the food he’d ordered from a small restaurant down the block.
“Thanks, man,” Brandon said, tipping what looked like a high school kid sporting a baseball cap.
His cell phone rang, and he answered it via the Bluetooth still in his ear.
“Hey, sexy.”
“Hey, Kells, what are you doing up at this hour?” Brandon asked, setting his food on top of the desk.
“Thinking about you,” she replied.
�
�Oh really, at . . . what time is it back home? Three in the morning?”
“Yeah, I woke up and remembered our trip to Australia last year . . . brought back lots of memories. I’ve missed you.”
Her response triggered his memory. “Mmm, how horny are you right now?”
She giggled. “A trip down memory lane for you too, I see. But you know I’m always horny when it comes to you.”
Brandon’s mouth quirked. “I know. I just wanted you to say it. I’m eating dinner, by the way.”
“Oh! Why did you answer your phone if you’re busy?”
“I’m not. I’m actually in my room,” Brandon said, taking a bite of grilled chicken and switching on the television.
“That sounds unlike you. But that’s good. It means I don’t have to worry about some gorgeous Aussie chick having her way with you. And since you’re being so good, I can’t wait to have you inside of me again. I love how you fill me up. I’m longing for your massive cock, Brandon. God, I’m so wet thinking about it right now.”
A piece of the chicken lodged in his throat. Flicking off the cap from his bottled water, he drank and thought back to the last time he’d indulged in sex—with Tina—and how it hadn’t done a thing for him. And now, with Kelly, his dick didn’t even twitch at her words.
“We’re taking it slow this time, Kelly, and saying things like that isn’t helping.”
“Then put me on your naughty list. But only if it means you’ll tie me up and fuck me like you used to.”
Seriously? Pulling out the waistband of his pants, he squinted at his flaccid cock. Did it even work anymore?
“You’re touching yourself,” he commented while shaking the image from his head. A few months ago, he would have bought her the first flight out to his location.
“I can’t help that either.”
Though he was willing to explore things with Kelly again, he wasn’t ready to jump right back in where they’d left off. And his dick could clearly take her or leave her. Still, his exclusive friends-with-benefits situation with her had been the closest he’d come to a real relationship in years. Maybe they could get that back, but this time around, things would be different. The end of this phone call would test her loyalty.