“Can I help you?” Morag was still beaming at me.
“Uh . . .” I glanced around, looking for a sign that this was Braden’s office. “I’m looking for Braden Carmichael.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
Okay, so it was his office. I stepped up to the reception and waved the envelope. “He left these documents at his sister’s—my roommate’s place—and, um, asked her to bring them in. She couldn’t, so I said I would.”
If it was possible, Morag’s grin got even wider. “Oh how nice of you, dear. Can I take a name?”
“Joss Butler.”
“One second.” She picked up the phone on her desk and didn’t have to wait long. “I have a Joss Butler here with some documents for you, Mr. Carmichael.” She made an ‘mmm hmm’ noise. “I’ll do that.” She hung up and smiled at me. “Let me show you to Mr. Carmichael’s office, Jocelyn.”
I clenched my teeth. “It’s Joss.”
“Mmm hmm.”
It was annoying enough that he refused to call me anything but Jocelyn, did he really have to get other people on board? I followed the cheerful, middle-aged receptionist down a narrow corridor until we came to a corner office. She knocked, a deep voice answering with a ‘come in’. I shivered at that voice and wondered for a second if I’d missed it these last two weeks.
“Jocelyn for you, sir,” Morag announced as she opened the door.
I wandered in past her and heard the door shut behind me as she left us alone.
The office was bigger than I was expecting with one large window that looked down on the quay. It was very masculine with a huge walnut library desk, leather chair, black leather couch and sturdy bookshelves hefty with folders and hardbacks. A few metal filing cabinets were stored in the corner. On the wall above the couch was a huge painting of Venice, and on the bookshelves more than one framed photograph of him with Ellie and with Adam and with Ellie’s family. In the corner behind me were a treadmill and a weight bench.
Braden was perched on his desk, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he watched me. I felt that kick to my gut again at the sight of him and the familiar tingling between my legs. Jesus C, he was even hotter than I remembered.
Fuck, shittity, fuck, shit.
“Hey.” I waved the envelope at him. Witty opener, Joss, very witty.
Braden smiled at me and I froze as his eyes washed over the length of me, taking his time taking me in. I swallowed hard, my heart kicking it up a gear—he hadn’t looked at me like that since the night at the bar with Holly. “It’s nice to see you, Jocelyn. Feels like forever.”
Ignoring the flush of pleasure those words produced, I strode forward and held out the envelope. “Ellie said you needed these pronto.”
He nodded, still gazing at me as he took the documents. “I appreciate you bringing them down. How much do I owe you for taxi fare?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t a problem. I was just beating my head off my desk anyway.”
“Writer’s block?”
“Writer’s cement.”
He smirked. “That bad?”
“So bad.”
With a sympathetic smile he stood up, bringing our bodies to touching distance. I felt the breath whoosh out of me as my head tilted back to meet his gaze. “Sorry I had to cancel on you those last few times.”
He made it sound like he’d cancelled a date. I laughed, confused. “O-kay.”
“I stopped by last night but you weren’t there.”
“I was working. Extra shifts.” I took a step back, hoping the less proximity I had to him, the faster it would reduce the heat in my blood.
I thought I saw him smile as he turned and put the documents on his desk. “The last time we saw each other I think something I said sent you running for the hills. Or maybe someone that was with me?”
Arrogant asshole. I guffawed. “Vicky?”
His grin was cocky now as he looked back at me. “Were you jealous?”
Were we actually having this conversation? I hadn’t seen him in two weeks and, and . . . pfft! Smiling in astonishment at his egotism, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know, it’s a wonder I managed to squeeze into the room what with your giant-assed ego taking up all the space.”
Braden laughed. “Well you ran off because of something, Jocelyn.”
“One: stop calling me Jocelyn. It’s Joss. J-o-s-s. Joss. And two: you had just insinuated that I was somehow ‘family’ after only knowing me a few weeks.”
His brow puckered as he processed this and he leaned back against the desk again, crossing his arms over his wide chest as he thought about it. “I did?”
“You did.”
Suddenly his eyes were searching my face and they were full of all sorts of questions. “Ellie told me about your family. I’m sorry.”
My muscles locked, the heat he’d created evaporating as if he’d just blasted on the a/c. What could I say? I didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it, and I also didn’t want him psycho-analyzing me. “It was a long time go.”
“I didn’t realize I’d insinuated that. About family. But things are starting to make sense. The dinner at Elodie’s . . . you running off-”
“Don’t,” I snapped, taking three steps towards him. “Braden, don’t,” my voice quieted as I tried to calm down the urge to bite at him like a wounded animal. “I don’t talk about it.”
As he studied me I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he think I was nuts? Pathetic? Did I care? And then he just nodded. “I get it. We don’t have to . . .”
Relief washed over me and I took a step back only for Braden to move into me so he was almost touching me again. “I was thinking of having a picnic on The Meadows this Saturday if it’s nice out—to make it up to Ellie for not being around a lot lately. I know she misses Adam too. Will you come?”
“That depends?” I found my way back to snarksville in an attempt to feel less off-balance. “Are you going to insinuate that I’m jealous of the sandwich you’ll be eating?”
He burst out laughing, a full body laugh that did sweet things to my insides. “I deserve that.” He prowled closer so I had to step back. “But will you forgive me and come? As friends?” However, there was something deliberately sarcastic about the way he said ‘friends’.
I eyed him suspiciously. “Braden . . .”
“Just friends.” His gaze dropped to my mouth and darkened. “I told you. I can pretend if you can pretend.”
“I’m not pretending.” Was that my voice that sounded all hot and breathy?
Braden just smirked at me like he didn’t believe me. “You know you’re really putting pressure on my acting skills.”
“Acting skills?”
“Pretending, Jocelyn.” He took another step forward, his eyes narrowed with intent. “I’ve never been very good at it.”
Oh my God, he was going to kiss me. I was standing in his office in crappy jeans with crappy hair and he was going to kiss me.
“Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Rosings and Ms. Morrison are here to see you,” Morag’s voice echoed into the office from the intercom and Braden tensed.
A strange mix of relief and disappointment flooded me and I took an uneasy step back, turning towards the door. “I’ll let you get on.”
“Jocelyn.”
I twisted around, my eyes looking anywhere but into his. “Yeah?”
“The picnic? Will you be there?”
The blood was still whooshing in my ears and my body was still strung tight with anticipation for his kiss, but I shoved that all aside, remembering who he was and how much he scared me. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “As your little sister’s roommate, yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Not as my friend?” he teased.
“We’re not friends, Braden.” I pulled his office door open.
“No. We’re not.”
I didn’t have to turn around to see his expression. I felt it in his words. Hurrying down the hall, I barely managed a quick wave to Morag before diving into the elevator that would take me away from him. What had happened? Where had the platonic, ‘friendly’ Braden gone, and why was ‘Cab Braden’ back? I thought I wasn’t his type? I thought I was safe.
No. We’re not. Those words echoed in my head as I burst out of the office building and into the fresh air. It wasn’t the words. It was the tone they’d been wrapped up in. And those words had been wrapped up in a whole lot of sexual intent.
Fuck.
Chapter 10
I didn’t go to Braden’s picnic.
Well, I did, but I didn’t.
Flabbergasted by his transformation back into shmexy ‘Cab Braden’ who couldn’t take his eyes off of me, I didn’t know what to make of it in all my confusion. And yes, in all my scaredy-pantishness! So I took the coward’s way out and roped Rhian into helping me–while also lying to her about why–out of the situation without making it seem like I wanted to get out of the situation . . .
Saturday rolled by and it was a surprisingly hot day, and The Meadows—a large park on the other side of the city by the university—was crowded with sunbathers and people playing sports. Braden had managed to grab a spot in the shade. Adam, Jenny, Ed and Braden were already there as Ellie and I approached, the sounds of laughter, kids shouting, and dogs barking creating a happy soundtrack to the scene. It was a perfect day, and the atmosphere in The Meadows was electric with contentedness. For a minute I wished I was staying.
“Uh . . .” I gazed down at the two hampers Braden had brought. They were so elaborate I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d stolen them out of a Fortnum & Mason’s display. “You call this a picnic?”
Braden had stood up when we approached, hugging Ellie into his side and gesturing proudly to the hampers sitting on a beautiful chenille blanket. Now he looked confused. “Yes.” he frowned at me. “What would you call it?”
“A five star restaurant on grass.”
The corner of his lip curled up in wry amusement. “I had the staff at the restaurant make them up.”
“And what restaurant would that be again? The five star one?”
“I think she’s making fun of you and all your money, Braden.” Ellie grinned at him. “It is a bit much.”
He made a noise of disgruntlement. “It’s a bloody picnic. Sit. Eat. Shut up.”
She giggled and flopped down beside Adam who wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her into his side. “Nice to see you, Els.”
“Yeah, you too.” She smiled at him but pulled away a little, causing me to raise an eyebrow. What was up with that?
“Well?”
I looked up at Braden to find him holding a hand out to me, unmasked heat in his eyes.
And Rhian saved me with perfect timing.
My cell rang and I made an apologetic face as I pulled it out of my pocket. “Rhian, hey.” I turned and took a few steps away, not chancing that they might hear her on the other end of the line.
“I have an emergency,” she replied in a monotone. “Abort the picnic.”
“Oh, no, you’re kidding.” I played along, sounding all mothering and soothing. “Are you okay?”
“Bloody hell, Joss, I thought you could lie?” Rhian grumbled. “You’re speaking like an alien who’s heard of the human concept of ‘being concerned’ but doesn’t know how to execute it.”
I grit my teeth, ignoring her. “Sure, I can talk. Just a sec.” I took a moment, trying to exude ‘human concern’ as I turned back to Braden and the gang. I had a feeling I was scowling more than frowning, but whatever. “I’m sorry, guys, but I have to take a rain check.”
Ellie sat up, worried. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to come?”
“No, I’m okay. Rhian just really needs someone to talk to. It can’t wait. Sorry.” I chanced a glance at Braden and found he wasn’t just watching me. He was studying me. Suspiciously. My eyes dropped quickly. “See you later.” I walked away to their calls of goodbye and stuck the phone back up to my ear. “I was being concerned,” I grouched at Rhian.
“Anyone who knows you, knows that’s not how you sound when you’re concerned.”
“Well, luckily, they don’t know me.” Or not . . . Braden was sure looking at me funny.
“So you really don’t like this Ed guy?”
I winced, remembering my lie. In an effort not to get into the whole Braden thing with Rhian, I’d lied and said that Ellie’s friend Jenna’s fiancé Ed was a bigot and I didn’t want to be around him, but I also didn’t want to hurt Ellie’s feelings by saying no to the picnic. I felt bad about maligning Ed, but I didn’t think it mattered too much since I wasn’t expecting him and Rhian to ever meet.
“Nope, I don’t.”
“You know I’m not buying it, right?”
I almost stumbled. “Buying what?”
“You talk about Ellie all the time, Joss. I think I can safely say I understand enough about the woman to know she wouldn’t be friends with a fuckin’ bigot. Like I said, you can’t lie for shit.”
Huh! That was so not true! “I can lie. I am a damn good liar!”
“Oh that’s right, yell that out while you’re still walking away from them.”
Shit. I glanced around to make sure I’d put enough distance between us. I had. My heart slowed. “You’re a pain in the ass,” I grumbled, forgetting she’d just done me a favor.
She made a pfftt noise. “You’re the one who lied to me. Seriously, what’s going on?”
I sighed. “Can this be one of those things we don’t talk about?”
“No.”
“Please, Rhian.”
“Have you spoken to your therapist about it?”
I frowned, wondering why she’d ask that. “No . . .”
“Fine.” She sighed heavily. “I won’t ask about it, as long as you promise to talk to your therapist about it. And you may lie, but I know you would never break a promise.”
“Rhian-”
“Promise.”
I shook my head. “It’s not therapy-worthy.”
“If it was worth lying to me about, then it’s therapy-worthy. Sort your shit out, Joss, and promise.”
“Fine,” I agreed, but only because I knew it was Rhian’s grumpy way of being a good friend.
* * *
Dr. Pritchard had flowers on her desk. I smiled. She had taken note.
“You lied so you wouldn’t have to spend time with Braden?”
I squirmed, wishing Rhian hadn’t held me to my promise. “Yup.”
“Before, when I asked you if you were attracted to Braden you said ‘I was’. Past tense. Were you telling the truth?”
No. “Maybe not.”
“So you are attracted to him?”
Oh what the hell . . . “I’ve never been attracted to anyone as much as I’m attracted to him.”
The good doctor gave me a wry smile. “Okay. But you’re avoiding him even though he’s made it perfectly clear that he’s interested in you. Are you afraid of him, Joss?”
Honestly? “Yes.”
“You have no intention of having any kind of relationship with him?”
“Were you not here when I told you about my past with guys?”
“That’s not the same thing. For a start, you know Braden.”
“I don’t want anything to do with him, alright.”
“You’ve just told me you’re extremely attracted to this man. When you talk about him, it’s clear to me you like him, so, no. I wouldn’t say you’re alright—you don’t want to want to have anything
to do with him.”
“Same thing.”
“No it’s not. Why are you afraid of him, Joss?”
“I don’t know,” I retorted, pissed off with the topic and with Rhian for making me discuss it. “I just know that I don’t want to start anything with him.”
“Why not?”
Jesus C, sometimes it was like talking to a brick wall with this woman. “It would mess things up. With Ellie, with me, with him. No.”
She tilted her head to the side, her expression blank. She was good at this. “Joss, maybe it’s time to stop thinking fifty steps in front of you and just let things play out naturally.”
“The last time I did that I woke up in bed with two strange guys and no panties.”
“I told you that’s not the same thing. You’re not the same person, and Braden is not some stranger. I’m not telling you or asking you to do anything you don’t want to do, concerning Braden or otherwise. But I am suggesting you stop predicting the future and take each day as it comes. Not forever, not even for a few months. Try it for a few days, a few weeks even. I know it might be scary, but just . . . try.”
* * *
As I had been for the last few weeks I was working Saturday’s now at Club 39. Ellie had gotten home earlier around dinner time, stuffed full from the picnic, and quite willing to just sit with me while I shoveled down some food before I needed to get ready for my shift.
“So, is everything okay with Rhian?” she asked, a little furrow forming between her eyebrows.
Guilt lodged in my throat. I hadn’t felt too awful lying to Braden since his three-sixty back into predatory hottie with wicked eyes and a fuck-me smile was the sole reason I’d had to resort to lying in the first place. But lying to Ellie was a totally different ballgame and it made more than a little uneasy.
I mumbled around a mouthful of pasta, nodding and avoiding her eyes, hoping she’d get that I didn’t want to talk about it.
At her answering silence I glanced up and found her watching me curiously. I swallowed. “What?”
Ellie shrugged. “Just . . . when Braden was walking me home he said he thought maybe . . . that maybe you were lying about the call from Rhian so you could avoid the picnic.”
On Dublin Street (9781101623497) Page 11