Damaged (Crystal Brook Billionaires)

by Blake, Jessica

  As I stared in the mirror, I gave myself a pep talk. Maybe this time a fling could be different. Maybe I’d matured enough since the last one — which was years ago — to see it for what it was — a nice physical distraction. Isn’t that what it could be: a simple method for releasing pent up energy? And who better to have a fling with than someone I wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into on the street.

  Besides, I was wildly attracted to him, that much I could finally admit to myself. Where there any drawbacks? Well, Claire could be one, but she’d already practically shoved me in his direction. Mom and Dad. Having sex under their roof still made me feel like a naughty schoolgirl.

  That was it. No other reason than my own stupid hang ups. Which a nice holiday fling could help me get over.

  “All right,” I whispered to my reflection. “I’m going to do this.”

  The decision made, I ran my fingers through my hair, smoothing the tangles near the end. With one last look in the mirror, I left the bathroom, a new woman on a new mission. I was going to get laid. I just hoped he was as good in reality as he was in my dream.

  Everyone was gathering in the dining room, with Mom and Dad setting platters of food in the center. The feast was fit for Christmas Day itself, with a large turkey and colorful sides. Claire scooted her chair in next to Jason, a grumpy look on her face. On Jason’s other side sat Danny. Across the table, the seats were empty. I hurried to snatch the one directly across from Jason, cutting off my poor old grandfather and his cane in the process.

  Sorry, Grandpa, I thought, smirking to myself. Can’t let you cock block me.

  My dad brought in the mashed potatoes and finally sat down at the end of the table. Grandpa and Grandma took their places next to me, and Mom came in with the carving knifes.

  Claire blinked heavily and shook her head, as if struggling to keep herself awake.

  “You all right, Claire Bear?” Grandma asked.

  She nodded and smiled. “I’m fine, Grandma. Just tired.”

  I smirked and Claire caught my eye. Had she kept drinking after I’d left the night before? Or had she just turned into that much of a lightweight? I tried to emote my curiosity as best I could, but her face betrayed nothing. I felt another pair of eyes on my face and looked to see Jason staring at me. The second I locked my gaze on his, though, his eyes dropped to the table.

  “All right!” Mom said. “Danny, hand me the plates, please.”

  Danny passed his over and she placed a slice of carved turkey onto it. I looked back at Jason, trying to be as surreptitious as possible, but he still gazed down at his hands.

  “By the way,” Mom continued. “Does anyone know what happened to my trellis?”

  A “no” echoed around the table, and I wondered if I was the only one who could read the guilt on Claire’s face.

  “Jason,” Grandpa said suddenly and so loudly I jumped. “Claire said you have your own real estate business.”

  Finally, he looked up. Some light from the chandelier caught in his eyes, making them seem even brighter than they were. An image flashed across my mind of his weight pressing me into a mattress, his hot skin pressed between my thighs.

  It was pretty much the most inappropriate thought you could have while wedged between your grandparents.

  “Yes,” Jason said. “We have offices in six cities.”

  “Across the world,” Dad added.

  Grandpa made a noise of approval. “And how is it working with Claire? Does she give you any trouble?” He winked at my sister.

  “She’s the best employee I have,” Jason replied, looking completely serious. “And the kindest. It was her idea to invite me here to spend Christmas with you.”

  Mom spoke up. “And we’re so glad you’re here, Jason. Gwen, hand me your grandma’s plate.”

  I did as she asked, keeping Jason in my peripheral the whole time.

  “And you’re still a bachelor?” Grandma clucked. “I can’t believe that.”

  Claire noticeably winced. “He’s pretty busy, Grandma,” she said, speaking before Jason had the chance.

  The man next to her nodded and smiled. I would have thought he’d be annoyed at Claire speaking for him, yet he seemed to be anything but.

  “My play’s tomorrow,” Danny told our grandparents.

  “Oh, that’s right, honey,” Grandma cooed. “And I’m so excited! Are you playing one of the Wise Men or Joseph?”

  “Mercutio.”

  Grandma’s nose wrinkled. “Did he bring the gold or the frankincense?”

  Everyone under the age of seventy laughed.

  “He’s from Romeo and Juliet,” Claire said.

  “Oh.” Grandma looked even more confused. “You’re not doing the Nativity story?”

  “No, Grandma.” He grinned, extremely used to the reaction.

  I twirled my fork around, a tornado of nervous emotions building. Licking my lips, I looked at Jason. His eyes were going from Grandma to Danny, following the conversation as Danny explained his troupe’s reasons behind putting Shakespeare on during Christmas.

  I swallowed hard, my heart rate picking up. How did I even go about showing a man I was interested?

  Was playing footsy under the table a good idea?

  Ew. No. I might end up with my foot accidentally up my sister’s thigh.

  Look at me, I thought intently, trying to will my way into his brain. Look at me.

  He did.

  His hazel eyes went slightly wider and I smiled, trying to look as friendly as I could. He flashed a quick smile, then looked away.

  Dad was talking, but I couldn’t hear anything he said. Had I just been shot down?

  No. That didn’t make sense. He just didn’t want to flirt around my family. He didn’t want them to know anything was up.

  Satisfied with that explanation, I dived into my food, listening to the talk about the new city zoning. When the time was right, I would corner Jason and get to him.

  A hot flush swept over my body at the thought. I was still nervous, but also more eager with each second.

  Did I shave? I thought frantically. When was the last time I shaved?

  It didn’t matter one way or the other. I wasn’t looking to impress Jason. My reasons for getting with him were purely selfish. As far as ensuring he was a return customer, well that didn’t matter since he would be gone in less than a week.

  When the meal began winding down, Mom set her cloth napkin on the table and stood. “I’ll just clear these plates and get dessert.”

  Jason spoke up. “Let me.”

  Mom put her hand up. “Oh no. You’re our guest.”

  “I’ll help him,” I said, practically knocking my chair over as I popped up faster than a Jack-In-A-Box.

  “Let them,” Dad said.

  Mom sat back down. “Thank you, Jason. Gwen, the pies are on the bottom shelf in the fridge. You need to set the ice cream out for a minute to let it thaw first.”

  “Okay,” I said, trying to keep my hands steady while I gathered my grandparents’ plates.

  Jason followed me down the hallway and into the kitchen, the conversation behind us fading as we walked.

  I set my load of dirty plates in the sink and then took his from him.

  “I can put these in the dishwasher,” he offered, directing his words to the ground. “While you get the dessert out.”

  My heart hitched. Something really wasn’t right. We were finally alone and he was acting completely different. What happened to the moves he tried to put on me on the staircase?

  “Okay,” I said, completely unsure now.

  My legs felt like lead while I walked to the fridge. Two lattice work pies sat on the bottom, looking like Snow White herself had been responsible for their coming into being.

  “Hey,” Jason said.

  My heart thumping, I whipped around to face him. He straightened up from the dishwasher.

  “Don’t forget the ice cream.”

  Time literally seemed to freeze. “U
h.”

  “Don’t forget the ice cream,” he repeated, as if I was too stupid to have understood him the first time.

  I licked my dry lips. “Right. Got it.”

  So maybe he’d taken my words to heart and decided to back off. It was certainly admirable, but the timing sucked.

  My head reeling, I pulled the pies out and set them on the island. The ice cream was in the back of the freezer, hard as a rock. It fell on the counter next to the pies with a heavy thud.

  I took a step towards the silverware drawer, meaning to find the ice cream scoop and a knife, but halfway there my body developed a mind of its own. My feet turned of their own accord and a second later, I was inches from Jason.

  He froze, looking down at me with wide eyes. His scent overwhelmed me, twice as strong as that first night at Freddy’s. Or maybe I was just doubly attuned to him; doubly desirous of getting things I hadn’t even let myself fantasize about. Until today.

  I lifted my face up, bridging the gap between us, and pressed my lips against his.

  For a second, he stiffened. Then, as if he was melting, he collapsed against me, his hands slipping around my waist.

  His kiss was purposeful and practiced, but I was anything but willing to let him take the lead. I edged his lips apart with my tongue, snaking into his mouth to explore him.

  He let out the softest moan and my entire body started shaking. I took a step forward, pressing his back against the counter’s edge. His grip on my waist tightened, my shirt bunching in his hands.

  Pinpricks of desire sprung up across my skin. I’d never known you could want a man so much it could literally hurt, but at that moment it felt like I was slowly being immersed in flames.

  He broke the kiss off. “We can’t,” he groaned from deep in his throat.

  My voice came out just as ragged as his. “Yes, we can. No one will come in here.”

  He didn’t respond. We were so close I couldn’t see the expression on his face, but I could feel his breath washing over me in warm waves.

  “The ice cream needs a minute to thaw anyway,” I joked, taking a half step back so I could see him properly.

  He smirked, but there was something sad about it.

  “After dessert,” I whispered. “We can go upstairs.”

  He closed his eyes and bit down hard on his bottom lip. When he looked at me again something behind his irises was incredibly pained.

  “We just can’t,” he said.

  The reality of what he was saying sunk in. My first instinct at the dining room table had been the right one. He truly didn’t want me anymore. Slowly, I dropped my hands from his shoulders and took another step back.

  “I’m sorry, Gwen.”

  I could hardly breathe, much less look at him. Finally, I’d decided to go for it, to take him up on his offer and enjoy a little holiday fling, and now he’d pulled the plug on the whole thing.

  It’s just my luck. No man wants me. Not really.

  My eyes stinging, I turned around and fiercely grabbed the pies. “Don’t forget the ice cream scoop,” I growled, before stomping away into the hall.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jason

  I dropped my face into my hands, listening to Gwen’s fleeing footsteps. God, I was an idiot.

  I shouldn’t have kissed her.

  Not only had I given her the wrong impression, now I wanted her even more. What would it be like to sleep with her, to get her alone so I could explore every bit of her body?

  My mouth practically watered at the thought. It would be amazing. Which was why I couldn’t do it.

  Some women you could get a taste of and be satiated. You could move on with your life, happy with having gotten your fill.

  With Gwen there would be no getting full.

  I took a few steadying breaths, trying to cool myself down. Inhale. Exhale. Think about anything but Gwen’s tongue against mine. Repeat.

  The worst part of it all was that I couldn’t explain to her what was happening, and I hated that. There was nothing to be done, though. I couldn’t very well tell her that the reason behind me pushing her away was that I liked her too much. Just the thought was laughable. Normal people felt lucky when they fell for another person.

  I guess I just wasn’t normal when it came to that.

  Knowing I had stayed away from the dining room for too long, I found the dessert plates and silverware, then grabbed the ice cream and headed for the table. I swallowed hard, my pulse heating up at the idea of sitting across from Gwen only minutes after we’d kissed.

  Would I be able to do it? Never before had I stopped myself from pursuing a woman. Usually, I didn’t even give it much thought.

  She wasn’t in the dining room. The rest of the family laughed and chatted, seemingly not even noticing Gwen’s absence.

  Susan stood up and took the plates from me. “Thank you, dear.”

  I stared at her. “Where’s Gwen?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why, she had to leave. She just got a call and had to go into Freddy’s. Something about the espresso machine being on the fritz. You didn’t hear her talking on the phone in the kitchen?”

  “No,” I dumbly said. Because it was a lie.

  “She said she’d come back if she could, but that she might have to stay around and wait for the repair man to come. Sit down. Have some pie.”

  “You know, I’m actually not feeling very good.” Gwen’s lying had become contagious.

  “Oh. What’s wrong? Can I get you anything?”

  Over Susan’s shoulder, Claire looked at me. Her expression was guarded, but no doubt she listened to the conversation with interest. Did she have any idea about what was going on between Gwen and me?

  “I think I just need to lay down,” I said. “But thank you.”

  She smiled slightly. “Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you very much.” I looked at her parents. “It was very nice meeting you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Everyone intoned a “goodnight” and I slipped out of the room. I made a quick stop in the guest bedroom to grab my coat from the bed and then stepped back out into the hallway. Glancing around, I deemed the coast to be clear. The back door opened with minimal creaking and I snuck out into the backyard.

  Halfway there, but still not free, I hurried around the far side of the house from the dining room. On the sidewalk, I kept up the pace, pounding a rhythm towards Freddy’s.

  Clearly, Gwen was even more hurt than I’d thought she was, and she deserved my explanation. The thought of being completely honest with her twisted my gut in the most sickening way. The only person I’d ever been truly open with was my therapist, and that relationship had only lasted about four weeks. After that, I’d decided I could deal with the dissolution of my marriage all on my own, thank you very much.

  If I was being truthful, though, I would have to admit that just the idea of someone I knew seeing me open up my heart and spill its contents made my palms sweat.

  I’ll just keep the information to a minimal, I decided. I’ll tell her what she needs to know. No more and no less.

  Downtown, there were still a few shoppers on the streets. All of Freddy’s lights were on, the tiny bulbs of the Christmas ones sparkling in the front window. I opened the door and went inside, moving my shoulders up and down in an effort to shake off the cold.

  There were a couple customers sitting on the couch chatting and several more browsing the book section. Gwen stood on the customer side of the counter, her legs stretched out behind her like she was in a runner’s lunge.

  “Just make a note and leave it on the board,” she told the young kid with dark stringy hair behind the bar.

  He nodded and moved away, sloth like as he dumped some coffee into a grinder.

  As if sensing my presence, Gwen turned to me. Her eyes went wide and she stood up straight.

  “Hi,” I said softly, taking a few steps closer to her. In that moment, it seemed as if she was a r
abbit I’d stumbled upon in the middle of the woods. One wrong move and she would spook and run, only to be gone forever.

  “Hi.” Her greeting sounded understandably tense.

  I swallowed hard. “Can I talk to you?”

  She nodded, the movement seeming to take a year. “Matt, I’ll be right back.”

  She turned and walked towards the book section, not saying anything to me. I followed, and we passed the small group browsing in the first row. Several more rows passed, and I soaked in as much as I could. An impressively large number of books had been packed into the small space, and the genres were all broken down into more specific sub genres.

  Gwen stopped at the very last row, which was the History section, and nuzzled into the brick corner of the space. Next to where we’d stopped was a door that I assumed led to the back. It was the most discreet spot in the shop.

  She crossed her arms and looked at me, waiting.

  Suddenly embarrassed, I shifted my weight and shoved my hands in my coat pockets. “So, uh, how’s the espresso machine?”

  Her nose crinkled. “The espresso machine? What do you…” The words trailed off and she bit her lip, aware that she’d just revealed her lie.

  I took in a sharp breath. “I understand that you had to get out of there. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable.”

  Her cheeks grew pink and she looked down at her feet. “I don’t really know what to say.”

  “It’s all right,” I assured her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just…” Here it came. The hardest part. “I thought I owed you a bit of an explanation.”

  She peeked up from the floor, studying my face.

  I cleared my throat, trying to keep calm as my chest constricted. “It’s not a good time for me to get involved with anyone.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s not the impression you gave off before.”

  “I know,” I quickly said. “And I’m sorry.”

  Her lips pursed while she continued to look at me. The reality of how obscured we were from the rest of the shop suddenly came over me. If I wanted, I could press her up against the wall and kiss that sour look right off her face. I could slip my hands under her shirt, press my hips against hers, taste the sweetness of her tongue…