“It just didn’t work out.”
“That’s what I said about us, and you won’t accept it.”
“No. It’s different.” I really don’t want to talk about it because it was more embarrassing than my mother finding out I had been on porn sites when I was in high school.
“How?”
“I actually slept with her.”
“And? Maybe what went wrong with that night would cause us problems.”
“No.”
“Just no?”
“Yep,” I say emphasizing the “p” at the end. I cross my arms over my chest because I am not about to admit what I did out loud. It was unforgivable, although, I hadn’t had any control over my thoughts at the time. Her gaze drops down to my forearms, lingering there for a moment, then rising to meet my eyes again.
“Then, I’ll not reveal anything since you’re being a dick about it.”
Dammit. I should have said that was off limits. Of course, she zeroed in on it. “It’s a completely different situation. Ask me about anything—or anyone—else.”
“What are you trying to hide? What happened that night that you don’t want to tell me? Like, is Tara really a man? Do you have ED and need medicinal help? Did she bring a male friend to the bedroom that you liked more?”
This woman. She should have been a lawyer. She’s tenacious.
“Fine, you want to know? Everything was just fine until we got to the climax and, well, she didn’t like the name I called out.”
“Wait, what? Did you call out your own name?”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
“Ed’s?”
“No.” This woman was really a pill.
“Was it like a bad name? Like did you call her something dirty? Because there’s nothing wrong with that, really. There are some women who wouldn’t like that, but I have no problem with it.”
Jesus, the woman was going to make me insane with this conversation. She likes to be called dirty names?
“It wasn’t that.”
She nibbles on her lip and I know she’s coming up with another question. Would she ever stop asking? Probably not. And she proves my point five seconds later when she continues.
“I don’t see what would have been so bad. I mean, it was your first time together. Ed had said she was too uptight for you. I thought it would make you compatible. Really compatible. But, then again, if you said something in the heat of the moment, she should simply let it go. And if she can’t—”
“Good God, woman. I yelled out your name.”
The silence that follows my announcement is deafening. In fact, running through a battlefield with bombs and IEDs going off around me was never this loud. EJ sits there, her expression blank, her eyes not giving away any of her thoughts.
Then, she clears her throat. Nothing. As the silence stretches out, it gets beyond awkward.
“Say something,” I beg.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m…confused.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
Her spine straightens and irritation moves over her expression. I can tell from the narrowing of her eyes and the frown. And I still want her. If she gave me the word right this minute, I would strip her bare and taste every loving inch of her lush flesh.
“It means…I don’t know. I…”
I sigh and close my eyes. I just need to leave, maybe go bury myself somewhere. I don’t like losing control as I did just now. And, in fact, every time I have been around her. Or, at least, it feels like that.
“Well, I think that ends this dinner. Send me a list of your proposal ideas. You have my email, right?” We rise up out of our chairs, and I can’t look at her. I hope that I can by tomorrow morning but even that is doubtful. I turn to leave, and she stops me.
“Harry.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t need your pity.”
“Harold Atticus Bradley.”
I stop and turn back to stare at her. “That’s not my middle name.”
“I know. Well, I didn’t know, but I didn’t think your parents were fans of To Kill a Mockingbird, still, I knew it would get you to stop.”
I blink. “Okay.”
“Don’t run off, Harry.”
“Let’s just forget I ever told you.”
“I’m not going to be able to do that.”
“I should have never told you anything about that date.”
“Then why did you?”
“What?”
“Why did you do it? You didn’t have to.”
“You kept asking, and it’s something I’ve been keeping from everyone.”
“And you’re good at keeping secrets.”
“How do you know that?”
“Allison. She said that if she had a secret, she knew she could trust you with it. Something about a code of honor.”
I grunt at that. Nice to know my sister trusts me, but it doesn’t make this any less embarrassing. It’s almost more embarrassing. The memory of Tara’s face when I left her materializes in my mind. Okay, that was definitely more embarrassing and horrifying and I’m still scum. No woman should be treated like that.
“Why?”
I rub the back of my neck and try to ignore my aching dick. This is cruel and unjust punishment, then again, thinking about that night with Tara, I think I might deserve it.
“Why what?”
“Why my name?” Her voice is just above a whisper.
This woman has never made anything easy on me. We’ve been what my sister calls frenemies—which makes me remember our earlier discussion. Friends, but not that friendly, and that’s because I don’t think I could actually be just friends with her. Since I returned two years ago, I’ve wanted her. After our failed date, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. There is something about her that calls me on such a primal level that I’m not sure what to do about it.
“Do you know why Allison fixed us up?”
“She said something about how we would suit.”
I study her for a moment not saying anything. “She knows both of us. Do you think anyone who knew us would put us together?
She shrugs. “We are both business first kind of people.”
I shake my head. “You’re smarter than that. We’re opposites.”
“And? What is the reason?”
This is my fault. To avert embarrassment on one issue, I steered her toward another. Fantastic. It seemed that tonight was the night to humiliate myself in front of the woman I have been craving for months.
“Harry?”
“I asked her to fix us up.”
She blinks. “You did? Why?”
“Because, every time you say my name, I get hard. There’s something about that southern accent. I couldn’t stop wondering what you would sound like when you were moaning my name.”
A flush spreads from her chest, up her neck, to her cheeks. It’s so damned cute…and sexy. It’s hard to embarrass EJ, but I’ve done it. All I had to admit was how much I wanted her.
“Are you serious?”
I don’t break eye contact as I nod.
“When you hear me speak?”
“Almost every time you speak, I have to think of something other than how you sound. Or how you look. Or how delicious your sweet pussy would taste. Otherwise, I would walk around without any blood in my brain and be jacking off ten times a day.”
She drags her teeth over her lower lip and I zero in on the action. There is no doubt that she’s aroused, and I figure I can’t mortify myself any more than now. I step closer, sliding my hand around her waist. Her breathing hitches, her pulse beats out a crazy rhythm in her throat. Her breasts press against my chest and even through our layers of clothes, I can feel her hard nipples.
“So, tell me, Elliana,” I say, enjoying the way her eyes narrow at me, “do you feel the same way?”
Chapter Six
I can’t think. The ability to form words with my mouth seems to have dissolved in the heat that Harry is fueling.
>
“Elliana,” he says.
“Don’t.”
He cocks his head to the side and studies me for a long moment. “Don’t use that name or don’t kiss you?”
“Don’t use that name.” As soon as I see his mouth twitch, I realize what I just said. “Both. I meant both.”
He chuckles, his chest vibrating against my breasts. Fuck me. And this is why being around Harry is a problem. I don’t cuss that much, but when he’s around, the word fuck comes up a lot. A LOT.
“Stop that,” I say.
“I notice that you haven’t moved.”
I open my mouth to speak, and his gaze dips to my lips. Is he thinking about kissing me?
“We aren’t compatible.”
“We haven’t even had sex, how do you know that?” he asks again, shifting his weight, pressing his body completely against mine. Good God, he’s hard…and he is definitely proportion to his size. I mean, he does have some damned big hands. And now all those thoughts I had about his hands come back to me and I shiver. I can just imagine how he would feel on top of me, pinning me to my bed as he slides his cock inside my heated core.
He leans down and nibbles on my mouth. “Over a year, woman. I’ve been thinking about tasting you for over a year.”
Normally, any other man who tempted me like Harry, I would just close my eyes and jump. I’ve never hidden my sexuality and I’m not ashamed of it. But Harry comes with complications. Work…and personal. I’m practically considered one of his family, thanks to his wonderful parents. His sister is my very best friend in the world.
“This is a really bad idea, Harry. We’ve got a lot of conflicts. Namely, the ones we discussed tonight.”
He gives my mouth one last nibble, then pulls back. “Tell you what. Why don’t we work out the details of our cross promotion, then we revisit this?”
I blink. “What?”
“I understand business and not wanting to get all tangled up.”
“There’s other problems. Your sister.”
“Who is marrying my best friend, and I think that shows we can deal with this if we get serious. I just want a chance, Elliana.”
I frown. “Stop that.”
His mouth twitches again and I have to force my gaze away from it. Unfortunately, when I look up, I’m captured by his green gaze. There is a rim of gold around the iris and, Jesus, they seem to be darkening.
“Just one,” he says, only I have no idea what that means until he lowers his mouth to mine. He kisses me, simple at first, just the brush of lips…once, twice...
His tongue darts out over the seam of my lips. My heart almost stutters to a stop, then seems to turn over. A roaring sound fills my head as Harry slips a hand up to my jaw, cupping my face. His fingers move over my flesh, mesmerizing me, and while I know I should keep it simple, not give in, I’ve been craving him for so long. I know it’s stupid, asinine in the highest order, but dammit, I want—need—a taste. I open my mouth, and he immediately steals inside. I moan against his tongue and he shivers against me. Before I’m ready, he’s pulling back.
“I think we definitely have chemistry.”
I want to argue, to tell him this is a really freaking stupid idea, but I can’t.
“EJ?”
I nod, but I still can’t form words.
“I need to go now or I’m going to do everything in my power to talk you into bed.” He kisses me, this time just a peck on my forehead. It shouldn’t be that comforting, but it is. When he steps back, I suddenly feel cold, as if his body was the only thing keeping me warm.
“Can you get me the first three events you want to work on with us? If I can get those and look them over, I can come up with a way to present it to Ed, so he doesn’t spaz out about it.”
I smile. “I don’t think anyone has ever used that particular term in conjunction with Ed Cooper.”
“Before he found baking, I would say the same thing, but since then…” he rolls his eyes. “You’ve seen him freaking out about what kind of cake to make for the wedding.”
“I told you that you need to talk him out of that.”
“I’ll try, but you know how he is about baking for my sister. I’ll stop by your shop tomorrow, okay?”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
He gives me another smile before he slips out the door. I stand there still dazed by the kiss. Just what the hell was that?
My phone buzzes and I grab it off the breakfast bar.
Savannah: Whatcha got going on tonight?
ME: Harry just left.
Savannah: Harry? Like in Harry Bradley?
ME: No, Prince Harry. He’s leaving Meghan for me.
Savannah: Shut up, bitch. What was he doing over there?
ME: You literally just told me to shut up.
Savannah: *angry emoji*
ME: I made that proposal about working with Ed for some nighttime events.
Savannah: Ah, okay.
When she says nothing else, I assume it’s because she’s gotten busy again. Savannah’s family is legendary in San Antonio for their restaurants, and she heads up the most popular one, La Trinidad. It means that she works six days a week. I have no idea how she does it, seriously. When I opened Magnolia Books, I worked my ass off, but I have always understood the importance of giving yourself a break. Savannah does not—or rather, her family doesn’t.
With a sigh, I push aside any of those thoughts and apply myself to the dishes. I have an early morning and lots of work to get done. The sooner I get my kitchen cleaned up, the sooner I can hit my bed. I just hope I can sleep tonight after that kiss.
* * *
I sigh and lean against the counter of my shop. It’s just past noon and I need a nap. I’ve been here for three hours, but I feel like I didn’t sleep at all. Probably because I didn’t. Harry’s confession—and more importantly that mind-blowing kiss—had me up most of the night. Even with three cups of coffee in me—that’s one more than I usually drink—I can barely keep my eyes open. I could just lay down on that comfy couch in the back of the non-fiction section and go to sleep.
“Hey, EJ,” someone says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I blink and focus on what is in front of me.
“Travis Fillmore?” I ask, a smile curving my mouth. I hurry around the counter, excited to see my old friend. I met him in New Orleans when I’d been down there for vacation and he’d been there on a job. Travis is one of the two hosts for one of those house flipping shows on The At Home Network. He and his co-host usually concentrate on Texas, but he had gone to New Orleans to restore a house down in the French Quarter. We had a very short fling and had remained friends. Whenever he’s in the area—which is often because his sister lives in San Antonio—he stops by.
He is big—another guy who makes me feel precious—tall and wide, his short dark blond hair and beard with dark brown eyes. Years working construction left him with sinewy muscles. As soon as I step around the counter, Travis wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the ground, giving me a big smacking kiss on my cheek.
He sets me down on my feet. “I can’t believe you were here daydreaming. It was about me, right? Because, I could completely understand if that were true. Many women daydream about me.”
“Maybe about killing you,” a woman standing beside him says. She’s kind of small compared to Travis, but that doesn’t mean anything because he’s a giant.
“Ah, Syd, don’t say things like that about me.”
Sydney, the sister.
“My name is EJ, and you must be his long-suffering sister.”
She smiles and then I see the resemblance. Yep, definitely his sister. They have the same dimples. Dark, honey blonde hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and she has the same whiskey colored eyes. “Yes, and now on a regular basis.”
He rolls his eyes. “Maybe I’ll move back to Dallas.”
“Move back? Where are you living no
w?” I ask.
“Damn, I forgot you don’t watch my show.”
“Because maybe she has a life.”
He ignores his sister, who is scanning through her phone.
“We moved the base of operations to Juniper Springs.”
I know that’s their old hometown. It’s something Travis talks about a lot. He loves the town and wants to move the show there and get it some exposure.
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, but the production company wants to have a lot of our planning meetings here. I’m going to be here every other month, so I need to find a place to stay. Or, I could just stay with Syd.”
“I will murder you in your sleep,” his sister says in a tone that could be used to discuss the weather. “And I will have no problem hiding the body.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was telling her about your shop and the cupcakes across the way, and I had to check out the space upstairs, so we stopped by. I mean, she could have done it before I moved back here, but she works way too many hours. Did you want to go to lunch?”
I take a minute and unpack his comments. Following along is kind of hard. I have watched his show once or twice, and he’s a little bit more under control there, probably because his female co-host kicks his ass. In person, his ADHD takes over.
“Are you going to do the reno for the spa?”
“We’re thinking about it. It’s a good space. I have always loved this house.”
“Do they really have margarita cupcakes?” Syd asks.
I nod. “They’re my favorite.”
“Okay, I’m getting one, then I have to get back to work. I’ll check back in and see if you’ve convinced her to be seen with you in public.”
Then she turns on her heel and hurries out of my shop.
“She’s…interesting.”
“Her job. It makes her insane. I don’t know why she doesn’t quit. Says she makes too much money. And it helps that she works for the Banks family who owns the At Home Network.”
He shrugs as if he doesn’t understand. The three-day fling I had with him when I visited New Orleans had been eye-opening. He makes a ton of money with that show and the endorsements. I’m not sure how much, but he rented out an entire restaurant just for the two us. I mean, who does that? He seems like a big kid, always going a mile a minute, unless he’s in bed. There, he takes his time.
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