Mister Big Stuff_A Single Mom Friends to Lovers Novel

by Weston Parker

  "I just put that date so she wouldn't ask questions. There are some subtle differences between her and the girl in the painting, but it's her." He moved closer and pressed his hands to his hips, studying it beside Damon.

  "And what is the truth of her struggles?" Damon glanced over toward his brother. Beth had shared a little bit, but not nearly enough.

  Have I asked about her past? Shame worked its way up his chest, but he discarded it. Everyone had a fucked up past to some extent. What didn't kill people left them more capable of dealing with the next shit storm. One of the reasons Beth was going to be his woman for the long haul was her willingness to persevere no matter what.

  "Her father left them when she was twelve, I think. He was a drug dealer and walked out one day, taking all of their money and warning them that the dealers he owed money to might show up, but it was on them. She's been so fucking poor since." Matt turned and let out a sigh. "Ask her about her past, Damon. Don't be a prick."

  "Fuck you," Damon mumbled under his breath and turned to the next picture, one of himself.

  "Jonathan's here. Help me sell this. I want this bad." Matt patted his back and walked off, giving the art dealer a warm welcome.

  "What the hell?" Damon whispered as memories rushed across his mind. Sickness swelled in his stomach, and chill bumps broke out across his skin. He pressed his fingers to his lips, remembering the day the picture was taken. It was the day after he caught his mother fucking around on his dad. The worst moments of his life were captured in the pain Matt had painted so perfectly in his eyes.

  "Hey. You okay?" Beth rubbed her hand down his back and pressed her cheek to his shoulder as she stood beside him.

  "Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He snorted and flipped the page. "I'm wondering why Matt felt the need to paint a picture of a photograph from my teenage years. It's a waste of his time and talent."

  "He doesn't think so." Bethany turned, tugging at Damon to do the same. "Hi. You must be Jonathan."

  "I am." The tall, gangly fellow with a disturbing comb-over and a bright red pinstripe suit extended his hand.

  Damon forced himself not to react as he extended his hand. "I'm Damon Bryant. This is my fiancé, Bethany. I'm Matthew's brother."

  "Lovely! I do believe one of the pieces Matt sent in originally was of you." Jonathan glanced over at Matt, who almost looked ill. "Is that right?"

  "Sure is. Let me show you the rest of them." Matt moved up toward the table, and Damon took Beth's hand and moved back as the door opened and Erica walked in. Her long blond hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her bright blue dress reminded Damon of something out of the fifties or sixties. It was ruffled at the bottom and far more feminine than Damon had ever seen her. She was stunning, but nothing compared to the pretty girl holding his hand.

  "Hey, guys. Sorry, I'm late." She gave Beth a quick hug and smiled at Damon before moving toward Matt and introducing herself to Jonathan.

  "Come on. Let's walk around." Damon nodded toward the back of the small studio. "Twenty bucks if you can tell me what the fuck this painting is supposed to be."

  She laughed. "Do I look like I need twenty bucks?"

  He glanced down at her and smirked. "You look like you need a spanking, but I'm thinking that would only lead to me playing around in places that would have us in trouble. You moan too loud to get away with anything in here."

  She smacked his chest as her laughter filled the room around him. He pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, leaning down and kissing her ear.

  "What do you see when you look at it?" He glanced up, not seeing much of anything other than someone getting trigger happy with a paint gun. Art made no fucking sense at all. The price tag showed that the piece was valued at over ten grand, which was completely ridiculous.

  "I see the division of heaven and hell. Angels in a battle for the end of times." She shrugged. "See the river there in the back?"

  "River? Angels? Where did you get a glass of bourbon? I want one." He released her as she moved forward and lifted her hand, explaining what she saw, but never touching the painting.

  "Don't touch anything!" Jonathan's voice was sharp.

  "Watch how you talk to my girl. She's not touching your shit, but I'm about to." Damon turned and took a step toward the guy, not caring who was trying to do what, no one was going to raise their voice at Beth, no matter the reason for it.

  "It's okay." She moved up beside him and wrapped him in a side hug. "I didn't touch it. I wouldn't do that."

  "Oh, sorry." Jonathon's cheeks turned pink as he spun on his heel and walked back toward a very stunned looking Erica and Matt.

  "Fuck no. There was no need to-"

  "It's okay, baby. Seriously." She lifted to her toes and pulled him down for a quick kiss. It was okay to her, but that didn't mean he was good with it.

  He was the only one allowed to get testy with her, and he even felt like whooping his own ass from time to time. Lust or love?

  Sure felt like love.

  Chapter 32

  Bethany

  "Well, that went well." Matt glanced up as Bethany downed her second glass of wine. They had wrapped things up with Jonathan an hour later and headed out to dinner, just the four of them. Bethany was almost glad that the eclectic art dealer had turned them down for the meal. Spending time with Damon, Matt and Erica sounded relaxing, or it might have been if Matt wasn’t sitting on pins and needles around the blond bombshell that Bethany wanted to get closer to.

  It would be nice to have a friend, and since there weren't many girls her age to choose from and Krista was facing murder charges, Erica would have to do.

  "It did. I think Jonathan really liked your work." Erica smiled seductively and pressed her elbows to the table as her wine glass dangled from her fingers. "It was a great portfolio. I'm glad you decided to show him the full breadth of your talent and not just have the scenery pieces in there."

  "Were you thinking about leaving out the paintings of people?" Bethany picked up a piece of garlic bread from the center of the table and glanced over to see Damon on his phone, working no doubt. The man rarely gave it a rest, but she understood all too well. She was itching to get back to the room to work on something for Kendal that she needed to have ready by Tuesday morning and a research project synopsis for class on Monday. The good times were almost over, but she was hanging on as long as she could. Damon seemed to have moved on already.

  "Yeah. Some people get uber sensitive about paintings of faces. Noses are especially hard to get right, emotion is difficult, and everyone has an opinion about whether the piece looks true to form. It's hard, but they're my favorite to work on by far."

  "Was the one of the dark-haired girl, the close-up, Bethany?" Erica took a sip of her wine, and Bethany couldn't help but notice how closely Matt's eyes followed her. He was into her. Why was he fighting it so much?

  Was it the monster in the bedroom bullshit? She had to ask Damon about it later. Surely he would know more than she did and could fill in the blanks for her. The question was, would he? And really, did she want to know more about Matt's bedroom tendencies?

  Sadly enough, yes.

  "No. It's just a coincidence. I did that one back in two thousand and thirteen." He shrugged and picked up his menu. "I hope it works out with Jonathan, though I'm not sure if working on paintings all the time will work for me. We'll see."

  "I know of a certain advertising agent for a great company that's looking for a lead designer." Erica chuckled as Matt gave her a look.

  "Who?" Damon glanced up from his phone.

  "Us, silly." Erica shook her head and reached out to squeeze Matt's thick shoulder. "Have you given it any more thought?"

  "What's that?" He turned and gave her a quick glance. It was almost too cute how shy he was around her.

  "You coming to work for Erica, Matt. It's a good balance in your life. Paint some of the time and work for her and us, really the rest of the time. It's not as restrictiv
e as you think. I talked with her a little bit about it, and you could have the freedom to come and go as you want." Damon's voice was a little muted by the angle of his head as he continued to answer e-mails on his phone.

  Annoyance rolled over Bethany, but she swallowed it down. It wouldn't do anyone any good for her to reach out and put her hand on the screen. He needed to put the damn thing up, but she wasn't going to be the one to tell him. They were getting along for the first time all week. She wasn't messing up the serenity.

  "I'm thinking about it. We can chat tomorrow morning when you show me the new office space you guys have." Matt winked at Bethany and pulled the bread basket closer to him. "Did you like that red suit Jonathan had on? I'm thinking I need one."

  She laughed and spat a little of her wine out at the thought of him in something so grotesque. "No. Just no."

  Damon grunted and handed her a napkin, a look of disdain on his impossibly handsome face. He was lucky he was so hot. He was an ass far too often not to have the looks to rein someone back in from walking away.

  "I think it would look great on you." Erica laughed and set her wine down. "I've had too much to drink. I'm going to the ladies’ room. I want the grilled salmon and veggies if they come."

  "We'll get it for you." Bethany smiled up at the other woman and waited until she left to turn her attention back to Matt.

  "You need to take her dancing tonight, or for dinner tomorrow night."

  "What? No." Matt shook his head.

  Damon's phone rang, and he stood. "I need to take this."

  "What do you want us to get-"

  He walked off and answered the phone, leaving Bethany to feel silly for asking him anything.

  "Ugh. He's such a dick sometimes." Matt grabbed another piece of bread and tossed it across the table to her. "Why do you put up with him?"

  The light tone of his voice let her know that he was teasing her, but the question was rather valid.

  "No clue." She shrugged and took a bite of the bread. "Let's not talk about Damon and me, let’s instead focus on something new and fun. Like you and Erica."

  "There is no me and Erica. She's far too much woman for me, Sis. Seriously. Look at her." He pushed at her glass of wine a little. "She drinks white wine for God's sake."

  Bethany snorted. "What does that have to do with anything?"

  "You gotta be a tough bitch to handle three glasses of white wine. It's so tart and dry that my lips get tucked under my gums, like this." He tucked his bottom and top lip in, leaving him to look like a horse with more gums and teeth than anyone should be allowed. "How do you like me now?"

  She laughed again and put the rest of the bread into her mouth, speaking around it. "I'm falling in love with you. I'm so glad you're not like your brother. I couldn't handle two of you."

  "How naughty would that be? You in bed with both of your brothers?" He gasped dramatically. "At the same fucking time?" Another gasp.

  "What are you two laughing about?" Erica took her seat beside him, and Bethany watched as he transformed from laid back and fun-loving to stiff and unyielding.

  "Just being siblings." Bethany shrugged and picked up her menu as the waiter approached. Damon was nowhere to be found, so Matt ordered him a steak, which turned out to be the wrong cut of meat and the wrong temperature from what he wanted.

  To say that he was moody would have been an understatement.

  ***

  "I have some work I need to do tonight," Damon barked as he glanced over his shoulder.

  Bethany shrugged and kept her thoughts to herself. Dinner had been fun in momentary spurts when Matt wasn't giving Erica stiff responses, and Damon wasn't mumbling half-ass responses. She should have just gone to dinner with Matt by herself.

  Damon walked into the room and pulled off his jacket, tossing it on the bed and working on his tie. She wanted to move around him and help undress him sensually, but he wasn't in the mood to be bothered with anything, least of all her.

  "Have you met everyone from this Zarpeth team?" She tried to start a casual conversation as she opened her suitcase and pulled out some comfortable clothes.

  He glanced up from the desk he hovered over and smirked. "I'm the CFO of the company. I put the team together."

  "Okay, Mr. Sensitive. Shit. I was just wondering who all was on the team. It was an ice breaker of sorts."

  "We can talk about it at breakfast tomorrow. I have too much to do tonight to casually talk about things that don't matter." He sat down and pulled the laptop closer to him.

  She ignored the sting deep inside her chest at his dismissal of her. Why was she there again? Right, to make her mark on McKenzie and Bryant. It would have been nice if it was for a better reason, like supporting her man or having a getaway for the two of them, but nothing could be further from the truth. When Damon wasn't tense, he was difficult. When he was stressed, there was no dealing with him.

  After putting on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she slipped her feet into her sandals and pulled her laptop strap over her shoulder.

  "Where are you going?" He glanced up.

  "To the hotel lobby. I figure you might be making calls or-"

  "I'm not. You're good staying here, just keep the TV down low if you're going to watch it. I need to review a few things for our meeting tomorrow and work through the Kissinger tax files. You know, nothing too pressing."

  She walked to the door and opened it. "It's all good. I'll find a comfortable chair in the executive lounge and work on my school stuff. I have a lot due when we get back home."

  "You can't go into there looking like that."

  She put her hand on her hip. "Like what exactly?"

  He lifted his eyebrow as if she should have already known what she looked like, and she did. The challenge was for him to insult her.

  Why are you trying to start a fight?

  "Right. Do what you want." He shook his head and went back to his computer, leaving her standing there.

  "I will." She grabbed the door handle but stopped as the sound of his laptop slapping shut caused her to stiffen.

  "You know what, I'll go. I need a drink anyway, and I'm still dressed in something more appropriate for the lounge. Just stay here." He tucked the laptop in his briefcase and moved past her, pulling the door open. "Be awake when I get back. I want to go over a few things before we go to sleep."

  "Over what?" She moved back, a little surprised by his desire to leave the room. His reasoning was asinine, but so was he.

  "Some of the auditing steps that you'll be in charge of."

  "I'm an intern." She wished she could have pulled her words back the minute they left her lips.

  He chuckled. "Is that all you want to be?"

  "Did I say that?" She moved away from the door and let out a tired huff. "Just go. You're in a mood, and we're just going to tear each other apart. You got your sex, so whatever."

  "Got my sex?" He snorted and opened the door. "What the fuck does that mean?"

  "Exactly what it sounds like it means." She crawled up into the bed and waited to press her palms to her eyes until he let the door close behind him without a word.

  She shouldn't have said it, but it was how she felt. He wasn't at all the same guy who'd dropped down to his knee in the sand in Jamaica. He was more like the asshole that let some girl give him head while she watched on her first day of work.

  "No. Please don't let us go backward. We don't have much farther to go to unravel everything. Please."

  Chapter 33

  Damon

  "Now that you got your sex? What the fuck does that mean? She didn't want to fuck?" he growled as he took the stairs all the way to the bottom floor of the hotel. She was being so incredibly sensitive, and it was getting old.

  It was because she was young, that and the fact that their relationship was so new. Why the hell did he propose? It only seemed to add another layer of weight to their already crumbling foundation.

  Because I love her.

  Do you? />
  "Yes," he mumbled and walked into the executive club as a pretty redhead at the hostess stand glanced up and smiled warmly.

  "Evening, Sir. Would you like a table with a connection or no?"

  "Damon. Over here, man." Ben's voice caught him off guard, and he moved over a little and lifted his hand to wave at his old friend.

  Where he needed to get a few things done, the night was young. He could have a drink or two with Ben, catch up and then try to work through some of his ever-expanding to-do list. Besides, he owed Ben a bit of an apology. He'd been a horse's ass earlier that week to both Ben and Linda. Chances are that both of them had let it slide, but nevertheless, Damon was working on being better about letting his emotions get the best of him.

  "I'm good. I'll come get another table after a few drinks with an old friend." He nodded and started to walk off as the woman gripped his upper arm lightly, stopping him.

  "I'm Amanda." She handed him a card. "Let me know if there is anything you need while you're here."

  He winked and pulled from her hold. "Great. Thanks."

  Slut.

  "Hey, buddy. When did you get in?" Damon slid into the booth across from Ben and started to get his computer out, but decided against it. He could spare a few minutes.

  "About two hours ago." Ben shrugged. "The whole team is here, but I thought it would be nice to have a drink by myself, you know, test out the theory that only alcoholics drink alone."

  "And? You figured out if you fit the bill?" Damon chuckled, letting the angst from his fight with Bethany go.

  "I'm still working on that." Ben glanced down at his hands and backed up. "So Bethany didn't come with you? I thought we were going to start her on-"

  "She's upstairs. We're having our tenth misunderstanding for the day." Damon leaned back and turned as the waiter walked up. "Vodka and a splash of sprite. Three limes and a napkin, please."

  "Of course, Sir."