Deceit in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 1)

by Jennifer Michael

  I don’t need his apology, but it does feel good knowing he feels this way. The genuine grief on his face and the pleading nature of his stance is reason enough to easily forgive him.

  “If you remember correctly, I didn’t let you speak to me that way, and I won’t let anyone else do it either. You were a bastard, but I know you feel bad about it. Consider it forgiven and forgotten. I appreciate you wanting to apologize to me.” I lean into him and show my forgiveness by pressing my lips to his. The kiss is sweet and lingering. As I pull away, I land a playful smack to his ass, lightening the mood and further cementing the concept that this is in the past for me. “Go finish up with the coffee before I go into caffeine withdrawal. I’m not a pleasant person to be around in that situation.”

  He kisses my forehead in a gesture he seems to be fond of and one I surely enjoy. Then, he releases me and returns to the coffeemaker as I go back to the task of breakfast.

  “I have a catering job today.”

  My diner job is much farther from where I’m staying. It’ll be a much bigger pain in the ass getting there without a car. The process of taking a bus from here to there will be one giant headache, but tonight I’m actually working a catering gig on this side of town.

  “I didn’t know you had a second job. What time?”

  “It’s not really a second job. I pick up serving gigs every once in a while when this catering place does parties and they need extra help. I have to be at some house over on this side of town by three.”

  “Cream? Sugar?”

  He holds both contents up for me to see. “A little of both.” I flip the bacon, check on how the eggs are doing, and then get out some bread to throw in the toaster.

  “I don’t really like you working a job at a private home where I can’t check in on you.” Burke can’t be with me everywhere I go. That would be crazy and nearly impossible. What’s he going to do, sit at the diner while I work five mornings a week?

  “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl who has been taking care of herself for a long time, but if it makes you feel any better, from here on out, I won’t take any more catering gigs until things get sorted.”

  “I know you can take care of yourself, but you wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me. I’d be a complete dick if I didn’t worry what this means for your safety. You could be walking into anyone’s house tonight, completely on your own.”

  “I can’t bail on it. I’d burn a bridge, and they’d never hire me again.”

  Burke comes and hands me my coffee. I take a big sip, ignoring the way it almost scorches my mouth. It’s worth every second of pain. I set the cup down and finish cooking breakfast.

  “I’m only agreeing to this if you let me drive you and pick you up.”

  Fair.

  “Deal. Grab some plates and stuff, will ya?”

  Burke drops the subject, but it’s not over. He’s itching to say more but refrains as he gathers the necessities for breakfast so we can sit and eat. Our meal is quiet, but it’s not uncomfortable. He compliments my cooking and constantly touches me in affectionate ways while we eat. By the time we’re done, I’m ready for round two in his bedroom. It’s a combination of how easily he works me up from being in the room with him, the apology from earlier, and also because he handled being told no by me better than I ever thought a man like him would. Compromise and understanding are very sexy.

  Hell, everything about this damn man is sexy.

  I carry a tray of bruschetta around the room inside a house even bigger than the one I’m currently shacking up in. Burke’s home feels warm and inviting when there aren’t tons of people partying there. This house is stuffy. Everything from top to bottom looks like it costs a fortune. Grand chandeliers hang from more than a few spots on the ceiling, there are odd-looking statues in almost every corner, and art I don’t understand on the walls. There is a room decorated completely in white, which I make a point of skipping as I maneuver around the home in fear I’ll drop something in there.

  The guests are dressed as if they are attending a Hollywood red-carpet event. The women are in floor-length gowns while the men wear their best tuxedos. Most of the women have a consistently full glass of something bubbly, while the men hold tumblers of an amber liquid, both courtesy of the wait staff. I’m guessing a bottle of that stuff costs more than I’ll make all month.

  Despite the stuffy atmosphere, this job has gone fairly smoothly so far. I’ve learned how to blend in well enough that I’m practically invisible to the guests unless they need something. At some jobs I’ve worked, the older men would get handsy and the women would get catty. I once had a woman who looked like the poster child of poise and reserve ask to speak to me outside. Once I followed, she poured a glass of that signature bubbly right over my head and accused me of flaunting myself in front of her elderly husband. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, so they weren’t the picture of married-for-love. I smelled of champagne the rest of the night and kept my eyes on the floor. I’m surprised I was ever asked to work again.

  I move to head back into the kitchen to restock my tray. As I do, out of the corner of my eye I see red. My head swings in the direction as my feet come to a halt. Deep, dark, rich red hair pinned up in a sophisticated updo. She reminds me of Jessica Rabbit in her long, red sequined gown that hugs every one of her curves. What’s Braelyn doing here?

  Trying not to look conspicuous, I take cover behind the chocolate fountain in the center of the room, peeking around it to get a better look at her. The dark circles are gone from under her eyes, and she once again holds that vibrant spark. Her lips are stained the color of blood, and her eyes shimmer with gold-toned eye makeup. While Braelyn has always had a taste for the finer things in life, I’ve never seen her this made up. She looks almost unrecognizable.

  “What’re you doing?” I jump at the voice as well as the hands on my ass. I twist around before the voice registers. As I realize who’s behind me, I see Burke in a heart-stopping, sexy tux. Holy shit. He’s in a dark, charcoal-gray number that looks tailor made for him but he’s without the coordinating tie every other man in this room has on. He’s left the top button of his light grayish-blue dress shirt undone.

  “What’re you doing here?” I guess Burke didn’t hear the word no as well as I thought. It’s hard to put an edge to my voice when he looks that good.

  “I’m attending a party.” His voice sounds smug and triumphant. I’m not sure if I want to smack him or kiss him. Maybe both.

  “You can’t be here. You weren’t invited, and you’re going to get me fired.” I swat his hand away from pulling me toward him.

  “Relax, Paisley. There are like two hundred people here. No one will notice one more. I won’t bother you.” Dressed like that, there is no way he could not bother me. That worries me more because currently I want to forget about refilling the tray in my hand and drag him off to a coatroom or somewhere. The thought of him filling me while I’m supposed to be working and we have a house full of oblivious people sends a shiver through my body.

  Get a grip. This man has turned me into a sexual deviant.

  I force myself to relax and smile, knowing he’s probably right that no one will notice he’s here uninvited.

  “Where’d ya get the fancy tux?”

  Burke looks down at his own attire like he needs a reminder.

  “Went and bought it after I dropped you off.” I can’t stop the visible gulp I take while looking him up and down. His face lights up with a devilish smirk.

  “You like?”

  Yes, I most absolutely like.

  “It’s all right.” I lie. Both he and I know I’m currently failing miserably at attempting a nonchalant response.

  “Right . . . just ‘all right.’ I’ll return it tomorrow then.”

  “NO! I have plans for you and that tux that extend past tomorrow. Do NOT return it.”

  Burke advances toward me again, but I step away and swat at him once more. I cannot let him
touch me or else I’ll be disappearing into a closet with him. He laughs at my dramatics but lets me be.

  “So what were you looking at over there while so incognito hiding behind a fountain?”

  Burke peeks around the fountain, and I will him back with my mind. Realizing I don’t actually have mental super powers, I grab him by the shoulder to pull him back. Damn it, I have my hand on him. I quickly remove it, locking my grip onto the tray with both hands, before telling him what I was up to before he interrupted. “Oh, I forgot. Braelyn is here. I was trying to get a better look without her seeing me.”

  Burke looks across the room, this time with more stealth. It’s obvious to me when he spots her. His eyes follow her across the room, and the vein in his neck ticks.

  “I have to go back to work. Do me a favor and see if you can find out what she’s doing here? Be my little spy while I work?” I plead with my eyes, giving him my best puppy-dog expression. He shakes his head at me with a hint of a smile before arguing.

  “I’m here to keep an eye on you. Not her.”

  “Multitask!”

  I leave my hiding spot behind the fountain and head back to the kitchen. It’s organized chaos. Servers scramble to fill their trays; the boss lady runs back and forth, making sure the food looks pretty on the plates; and the cooks are barking orders while manning the stoves. I thrive in this kind of mayhem. For however long I’m here, I can shut out everything else and focus on doing my job well. Bad guys and backstabbing roommates don’t exist here in this maelstrom.

  Well, they wouldn’t if one of them wasn’t in the other room. Whatever she’s up to still lingers in the back of my mind. Fucking Braelyn. Finding my Zen is a little harder tonight with both Braelyn and Burke here, but it’s not enough to rattle me. I wonder what Brae will do if she notices me. How’ll she act? I considered her my sister. Sisters fight, right? I don’t have a blood sister, to my knowledge, but it’s the sort of thing I assume happens. I hope that’s all this is and Braelyn comes to her senses.

  The night is almost over after six tray refills, five Burke run-ins, and one small grease fire. I didn’t get within arm’s length of Braelyn all night. I have a feeling she was avoiding me on purpose, working the room in an effort to keep her distance from me. We’re packing up the kitchen and many of the guests have already left, and I hope my party crasher isn’t noticed now that the number of people has severely dwindled.

  My boss tells me I’m done for the night, so I reach for my phone to text Burke. He’ll have to meet me out back since it’s not customary for the wait staff to exit through the front door. I grab my purse and head to the back door to leave.

  It’s dark, but small lights line the walkway and illuminate the path. I make it about five feet before I’m slammed into the side of the house. Pain slices through my chest as I make contact with the wall.

  I move to make sure my arms are not pinned because that would put me in a really bad position, unable to escape. As I twist, I come face to face with the person who snuck up behind me and now has a hand to my throat. Braelyn stares back at me with malice in her eyes.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Brae?” I choke out. I grab her wrist, knowing I’m stronger than her, attempting to pull her hand from my throat. However, she surprises me with strength I didn’t know she had, pushing me back with her grip on my neck until I’m flush against the wall. With her other hand she points her well-manicured nail in my face.

  “You and your little fuck buddy need to stay the hell away from me.” She looks beyond pissed. I’m seriously surprised by her hostility. She’s the one who kicked me out, and I went without a fight. What does she have to be so mad about?

  “What’re you talking about? I’m here for a job. I didn’t even know you’d be here. What’re you doing here anyway?”

  Brae finally lets go of me and crosses her arms. “You’re not the only one who works, Paisley.”

  “Oh, so you’re here for work, too? You better get in there because your rich john will be pissed you’ve gone missing. You’re owned by him tonight, right?” The last comment wasn’t nice or how I feel, but I’m pissed at her. I want to say something that’ll get under her skin. Braelyn doesn’t like the idea of anyone thinking they can own her. She insists she’s the one in control during her little business transactions. Hitting below the belt isn’t normally my style, but this situation kind of warrants it. She slaps me across the face—hard, almost hard enough to make me see stars. While I’m still stunned she actually did that, she leans forward, putting her face inches from mine.

  “Shut your fucking mouth. You know nothing, and you’re much stupider than I ever thought. I’m the owned woman?” Her hands clench at her side. “You’re the stupid bitch who’s shacked up with a criminal who I’m sure treats you like rented pussy. He put you up in that nice big house, probably even made you feel special a time or two, right?”

  When I press my lips together in a tight line, her eyes gleam with a manic happiness. She looks as if she’s about to burst from the unwarranted pleasure. She’s high on endorphins and diluted truths. “Well, you’re wrong and you’re not special. You’re exactly like me. You’re giving up your pussy for a room to sleep in while he fucks cougars in the bathroom of the very party you’re working. Ask him about that! Actually, you’re worse than me because at least I don’t have to be the hired help at parties like this or pretend someone I’m fucking is only fucking me.”

  Braelyn is lashing out because she’s angry. Blow for blow. There is no truth to anything she said, is there? Her words are enough to bring me out of my stupor. I rear back my fist and punch her square in the jaw. No sissy, open-handed slaps for me. We’re on the ground. I’m on top while Brae scratches and tries her hardest to get me off her. I haven’t been in a girl fight since I was a teenager! This is completely ridiculous.

  I land one more punch before I’m physically lifted up from behind. In my crazed state, I struggle to get free and get back to where Braelyn sits on the ground. Burke’s voice attempts to break through, trying to calm me, but it’s just noise in the heat of my anger. He sets me on my feet, and I pull to free myself from him. Burke is much stronger than Braelyn and with his hands on my shoulders I’m planted to this spot.

  He looks me over, inspecting me for injuries, and then turns to Braelyn. “You stay the fuck away from her.” Brae stands and wipes the grass from her ass and the dirt from her arms.

  “Gladly.” Braelyn turns and walks back into the shadows from which she came, and my attention goes to Burke. With his hands still on my shoulder, I breathe in his scent in hopes of calming my anger.

  “You okay?” His hand strokes my cheek where I took the hit. I’m assuming that means she left some sort of mark. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go home.” Burke takes my hand and leads me from the house and to his car.

  Burke

  The ride is silent. The anger radiating off her while we drive is thick and heavy, and I try to give her the space she needs to cool off, but when we get home, she goes straight up to the guestroom. I want to know she’s okay, and I want to know what happened out there with Braelyn.

  Paisley has gotten under my skin in a way no one has before. When she’s hurting, it affects me. When I saw her on the ground fighting it out with Braelyn, I felt rage. When I saw the marks on her face from being hit, I was incensed. I can’t explain it. I’m not sure I want to yet. Paisley is fucking me up inside. It’s more than her sexy curves and provocative appeal.

  She makes things feel easy, even when shit is anything but with all the damn drama we have going on. I don’t know what this means, but I don’t want to lose it. Both the mind-blowing intoxication of coming down her throat with my dick so deep that my balls touch her chin or the way having her around seems to affect me. Seeing her dance in the kitchen with my sister. Watching her unravel beneath me as I pump into her. Waking to her need to pleasure me.

  I’m wrecked in instances like witnessing her panic from the grasp of a dream or finding B
raelyn putting her hands on what’s mine. Paisley is just that. Mine. Whatever that means. She belongs to me. Her safety, her well-being, her pleasure. I want it, and it’s mine. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of for however long this lasts. I’ll protect what’s mine.

  Pacing in the living room is not getting me anywhere, so I make the decision to go up there and talk to her. Taking the stairs two at a time, I make my way up. Light shines from under the door, which tells me she’s probably not asleep. I knock, but she doesn’t answer.

  “Paisley, can I come in?”

  I wait but, again, there is no sound from the other side of the door. Instead, the door opens slightly, hiding Paisley from my view. I take that to mean she’s okay with allowing me in. As I enter, Paisley is returning to the bed. She sits with her legs crossed in the center of the mattress, and her eyes are puffy and red. An unfamiliar feeling jabs at my chest.

  I shut the door behind me and then quickly go to her, needing to comfort her. I sit next to her and pull her toward me. She willingly comes and then lays her head in my lap. I stroke her hair and back with a gentleness I’ve only shown to Teagan. She has a bruise high up on her cheek that has me instantly wanting to cause Braelyn pain. Knowing that’s not an option, I push aside my own feelings and hope I can bring some comfort to Paisley.

  “What happened tonight?”

  She hides her face and sighs. I move to lean against the wall to stretch out my legs while encouraging Paisley to lie between them. I want to be able to see her face. I entwine my legs with hers as she relaxes into me, her head resting against my leg. She looks up at me, revealing the sadness and hurt she holds from the events of tonight.

  “Braelyn lost it. She told me to stay away from her and to keep you away from her as well. Then she slapped me and called me a whore, accusing me of selling my pussy for a place to live. She said some other things, and well . . . then I punched her. It wasn’t long before we were on the ground and you were pulling me off her. I don’t understand what’s going on with her.”