Hearts Series Bundle: Books 1-6

by Sabrina Lacey

  “The way your mind works.” He smirks. His eyes change and I see the hunger in them again. “My robe looks better on you.” His legs are sprawled out under the blanket – mountains of muscular length with a tent popped up where they meet.

  I have no choice but to walk to him and climb on top, the oversized robe impeding my progress but not enough to stop me. “Mmm…”

  “This is good. I like this.”

  “You like me straddling you like this, huh? I can’t imagine why…” I lean down and kiss him, and rise back up to adjust my legs, moving the robe up a little. “I think the blanket should get out of our way, too, don’t you?”

  He nods to one of the nightstands. “We should get a condom.”

  Mood: killed.

  Not because I don’t use condoms. I used them with Christiano until we decided we were exclusive and I went on the pill, which was in the first month of our meeting. That’s probably why I keep forgetting to use one; I haven’t in years. But now that Brendan’s brought it up, it just reminds me that we are most certainly not exclusive. He made it clear that’s not how he rolls.

  So I bend and kiss his forehead. “I need to make sure I’m not missing the meeting with my contractor.”

  As I walk barefoot to the door, he calls out, “We have to use one, Annie.”

  I flip around, surprised at the straight-on confrontation of what I was hoping to avoid. I touch the wall, looking at the perfect paint job. “I know. It’s okay. I just have to find out what time it is, that’s all.” I glance to see him somberly looking at me. “Brendan – I have no problem with condoms. I don’t want to get pregnant, that’s for sure.” I just have a problem with thinking of you sleeping with another woman. It dries me right up.

  “I can see it bothers you.”

  “We all want to go bareback, right? It threw me, yes. But it’s really okay. I just want to make sure we have enough time. I’ll be right back.” With my best reassuring smile, I turn and walk out the door, shutting it behind me so I can have a moment alone to handle my feelings. Loving someone who wants to see other people takes a great deal of patience, and I can only hope I’m up for the task.

  As I walk into the living room, everything is very still and quiet. I can’t even hear the hum of a refrigerator. I guess Mark must have gone to work. Walking up to the coffee table, I find our wrappers and take-out bags are gone. He must have cleaned the mess for us. That was considerate of him. I look towards the upstairs floor, thinking of how I underestimated Mark. I wonder if Tommy and Ross were nicer than I thought back then, too? God, I can still see the four of them walking across campus; Reservoir Hunks. Inaccessible to a misfit like me. And here I am now, wearing his robe and walking around their penthouse. I wish I could go back in time and tell my old self how things played out. Where’s a time machine when you need one?

  Pulling out my phone, I see another missed call from Christiano. Guilt sinks my heart, bringing my body with it collapsing onto the couch, staring at his name. I can’t call him now. Not only is Brendan in the other room, but it’s just after 10:00 a.m. I have to leave now.

  Sigh.

  I walk into the bedroom, the phone hanging from my hand, my spirits sunk. “Bad news. I have to go. It’s ten o’clock.”

  Brendan frowns and rises up on his elbows, wincing as his ribs bend. He adjusts for comfort. “What time are you supposed to meet him?”

  “Eleven.” Walking to him, I smile regretfully. “I’m sorry I don’t have more time. Me thinks I need a shower, to be presentable. And a change of clothes. I didn’t expect to be whisked off to your palace, my king,” I smile.

  He pushes off the blanket. “I want to go.”

  “Oh.” I step back to give him room to get up, shocked. “Okay.” He didn’t ask if I want him to go, which is good. I think jumping up and down and shouting YES, would have stripped away the last bit of mystery I have left.

  “Just give me a minute.” He vanishes into the closet.

  A few minutes later, he’s locking up and I’m following him to the elevator. He pushes the button. “Last night and today? They’re the first times I’ve taken the elevator since we moved in.”

  “You take the stairs every time? Wow. I don’t know if I have that kind of discipline.”

  “You’re taking a Krav Maga class.”

  “True.” I smile, and turn my head to watch the numbers go down. I can feel him looking at me, so I glance sideways. “What?”

  One corner of his sexy mouth is turned up and his eyes are soft. “You’re beautiful, Annie. You’ve got no makeup on. No lipstick. Your hair’s messy, and---” He shrugs and smiles, turning to watch the buttons light ‘L’ for Lobby. “---you’re beautiful.” The doors open. “After you, Freckles.”

  A blush heats up my cheeks and neck as I walk out first. A flash of the party where I got wasted and Corinne got Brendan flies instantly into my mind. The way he looked over at me today and overlooked me then, it makes me a little angry. Walking to my car, I sneak a glance behind me to him, and he is unburdened by conflict, oblivious to how weird this all really is.

  We get in the car and drive to my place, without saying much. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m speechless. He’s looking out the window at the city zipping by, tapping his thumb on his thigh in time to the music, unaware that I’m wondering why things had to happen this way, because really… was I that undesirable just because my hair was dyed and I wore more makeup? Isn’t your soul mate supposed to recognize you? Or is it really timing that’s the key? Is it all these things put together? Why did I know, when I saw him? Is there even such a thing as soul mates, or is that just a product of people’s desire to think their perfect half exists, and if they find…

  “Hey.” I glance over. “Stop trying to figure it out.”

  I turn left into my tandem parking spot, shift the gear into park, and shove the emergency brake to the floor, mandatory with these crazy hills in the city. Turning the key, the engine dies off and I turn in my seat to ask, “How did you know?”

  “I just knew.” He’s already onto different things, his attention grabbed by seeing my home for the first time. He gets out of the car, looking up at the bulding. “This is a nice place.”

  I climb out and lock the doors, watching him as I’m thinking, Annie, don’t sabotage this. Why are you getting worked up over something that happened years ago?

  “Thanks. I like it.” I lead the way up the Victorian building’s steps to the first apartment. “Let me give you the five second tour. Five seconds because that’s all it will take.”

  He ignores my deprecating joke and follows me around, offering appreciative comments on the bay window and my comfy décor as he takes it all in. Since he’s being so nice, I tell him about some great finds I foraged from yard sales and antique shops, adding details and fun stories as we walk. It’s modest compared to his place, but I’m proud of it. “It’s my first place of my own,” I smile, nowhere left to go.

  “I like it. It’s very you. And it’s more comfortable than my place.”

  “No way.”

  “It is. You’re right. Mine’s too big.”

  “No such thing.”

  He laughs. “You lived with your ex before you moved in here?”

  I stop smiling and look to a fingernail. “Oh. Yes… I did.”

  He says nothing more on the subject, but the air is heavier than it was. He turns and walks to my bookshelves, picking up what he thinks is the statue of a skull. “This is interesting.”

  I jog over and take it. “Careful. That’s a Mayan skull. It’s very delicate.”

  “A real skull?” His eyebrows fly up.

  I put it back on the shelf, carefully. “Yeah. I found it at an old Russian guy’s yard sale. He stole it from ruins in Belize when he was trekking there on an archaeological dig in his twenties. I bought it for twenty bucks.” Brendan’s looking at me like I’m an alien. “I have a dark side.”

  He smirks, shaking his head. “I can see that. Yo
u’re running short on time…”

  “Not as short as that guy.” I point to the head. “I’ll go get ready. You stay here?”

  He strolls over and plops down on my overstuffed couch, his legs spread comfortably and one foot on the coffee table. I love how great he looks in my home. I think I’ll keep him.

  “Me and the dead Mayan dude will keep each other company.”

  Laughing, I head for the bathroom. “You two do that.”

  After a speedy shower, I throw on a pair of leggings with a long, loose top and ankle boots, rolling my hair into a messy, damp bun after an insufficiently short blow dry. Running into the living room, I ask, “What time is it?” and bust up laughing. “Oh my God. What are you doing?”

  Brendan’s sitting back with one ankle thrown up on his knee, his left arm on the back of the couch, the skull seated on the cushion beside him. “Jaco and I were having a chat about the end of the world.”

  “Jaco, huh?” I pick up my purse and pull out my phone to find we have less than five minutes to get there. “And what did Jaco have to say about it not ending like his people said it would?”

  “He said, enjoy your life because the other option sucks.” Brendan looks down. “Isn’t that right, Jaco?”

  “Jaco has a point.”

  Brendan rises with a sexy look in his eyes. He motions to what I’m wearing. “I like this.”

  “Yeah?” I tilt my head up for a kiss, and he gives me a long one. Forgetting the time, I drop the purse and slip my arms around his neck. Our bodies begin to move, my leg hooking around his hip as he kisses down my neck, lighting me up with a desire for more, my head falling back as my eyes close.

  Brendan

  I can be myself around her.

  What a fucking turn-on.

  ________

  Giving her soft earlobe a nibble, I whisper, hoarsely, “Text him you’re running fifteen minutes late.” My hands go under her shirt and she raises up her arms so I can pull it off. “Mmm… pink bra. I like it.” Unfastening it with a quick snap, I free her breasts and cup them in my hands. Rub them. Caress them. She slips her fingers into my hair and cradles my head as I bend my knees to sit on the coffee table in front of her and lick the soft flesh around her nipples, then sucking them until they could cut diamonds.

  “That feels so good,” she breathes, watching me. But before I can do more, she moans disappointment and steps backwards, holding her head in her hands. “You’re driving me crazy!! But I have to go. I really have to go.” I rise up as she picks up her bra. “I will text him I’m fifteen minutes late, because that’s how late we’re going to be, already.”

  “True.” Raking my fingers through my hair with one hand, I walk to the door to hold it for her. “You’ve made it difficult for me to walk, though. Hope this goes down before we get there.”

  She swipes her shirt off the floor and glances to my crotch longingly. “I hope it never goes down.”

  Chuckling, I push at my cock, trying to make it behave. “Well, it doesn’t seem to want to, when you’re around.”

  She snatches up her purse. “You say the sweetest things.” With one evil rub with her hand, she walks out the door.

  “That’s not cool.” I smack her ass before she gets out of reach and, yelping, she breaks into a run. “Hey! Also not fair. I can’t run!”

  A few stairs down, she stops, turns and looks up at me with very mischievous eyes. “You think I’m going to pass up the one chance I have to outrun you?”

  “Why would you want to outrun me?” Annie pushes out her lips like a Muppet, and looks away, considering this. “That’s what I thought.” I walk down the steps at the only speed I’m capable of and reach over to tweak her nipple through her shirt.

  “Ouch!” Her eyes go wide as I pass her.

  “That’s for taking advantage of a wounded man.” Breaking into a painful jog, I run down the stairs, holding both railings, my arms spread wide to block her. “Oh no! What’s happening?”

  “You’re a cheater!”

  “I win.” Smiling and bowing my head, I say, “I just wanted to get here first to hold the door open for you.”

  She rolls her eyes, giving me a reproachful look as she walks outside. “Puh-lease. You just like to win. I see you now.” Her finger comes up to point at me. “Don’t think I don’t!”

  “Name one person who likes to lose!”

  A few minutes later, as we drive up to her bar, we’re fake-arguing about the merits of winning and losing and what they can do to strengthen your resolve as a human being, or not. I turn my head as she parks in front of it, and it’s like someone punches me in the gut with a hammer-fist. The plastic-bag patchwork blowing in the breeze behind yellow, police tape strips makes it look like the place is haunted. And in a way, it is.

  There’s a stocky guy standing on the sidewalk, talking on the phone. From his baseball hat, jeans, flannel shirt, and tanned skin, he has to be the contractor.

  “I have to go and talk to him. Do you want to take a minute?”

  But I shake my head and open the door of her car. “Nah. I’m good. Let’s do this.” Rising carefully, my eyes narrow as I look at the broken window, picturing the scene as Annie had described it to me – the cops shooting through it and what I must have looked like taken out on the stretcher. I glance over to the door and see the hole. That’s where Annie shot the guy. I hope it was fatal.

  “Ms. O’Brien?”

  “Yes, that’s me. You can call me Annie.” She shakes his hand, turning to the front door as she searches her keychain for the right key. “I’m so sorry we’re late. I don’t mean to disrespect your time. This is Brendan Clark. He’s a friend of mine I asked to join me. Brendan, this is Mr. Donovan.”

  “Oh, are you one of the owners?” He asks me, turning with his hand out.

  I shake his hand, and my head. “No, no. This is all her. She’s the head honcho all on her lonesome. I’m just here since I’ve got nowhere better to be.”

  Annie laughs, bringing a smile back to my face, too. He nods and follows her inside. Bracing myself, I trail in behind them, slowly walking past where it happened, seeing the event replaying itself before my eyes. Brendan? The intense pain I felt. Annie holding my head. Brendan? I stare at the cleaned floor, seeing us there before me.

  “Brendan?”

  Coming back to present day, I turn and see Annie looking at me. Mr. Donovan is staring and wondering what’s going on with me.

  She holds out her hand. “Can I ask your opinion on this?”

  I nod and walk over, the past dissipating behind me. “Sure. What do you need?”

  She turns to Mr. Donovan to include him, shifting her attention back and forth between us. “We were discussing the patio and Brendan, you’d mentioned having a retractable awning for the weather. I’m in a little over my head when it comes to construction, but you seemed like you could see the image of how this should look.”

  I turn to the plastic covered space and hold out my hands to show them. “Yeah. Well, you’d said you want a black awning, which is perfect, and since the front of your bar has a sleek, modern feel, I’d keep that going with a short fence around the patio around this high, so it maintains an open quality, but keeps exclusivity as well. Not just tables on the sidewalk, you know? And the awning should have a see-through plastic, rolling wall accessible for when it rains. For the rest of the year, it won’t be there. Unless you want the privacy it will afford for special parties.” I turn to Mr. Donovan, knowing I have to include him in order to spark his desire to help. “You’re the expert, though. These are just ideas. I really don’t know anything about how this would work, or if it’s even possible, so please tell me if I’m way off base here.”

  “I was thinking something along the lines of what you just said.”

  “Really? Oh, great. Well, What do you think would work best for security?”

  He launches into his plan for a collapsible iron gate operated by a button next to the register he’ll install
. “The tables and chairs will have to be taken in. The only reason this will work is because the building is already pushed back from the sidewalk, giving you space to build. Half the patio will be inside and half out. So if you’re doing six tables – high ones like these?” He gestures to the tables in the middle of the room behind us. Annie nods, glancing to them. “Then three of those will be officially outside. The awning will be relatively short, which frankly, saves you money. But you can’t cut into the actual sidewalk without pissing off the city.”

  Annie’s phone goes off and she pulls it out, still looking at him to say, “We don’t want to do that!” Her eyes fall to the screen and I can’t help but look, too, since it’s right there. A photo of a man wearing no shirt, smiling with a spatula in his hand, vanishes as she rejects the call, but I couldn’t help but see the name Christiano, too. Her eyes flit up to me, but I look away. Now is not the time to ask who the fuck that was. “So… um… is insurance going to cover this? Because I know I can’t.”

  They discuss financials with me staying put, like I’m listening. But I don’t hear a word they’re saying. Inside, I’m kicking myself for my fucking ego. Here I was dealing with Rebecca, and telling Annie I don’t have girlfriends. Never did it occur to me that she was probably seeing someone else, too. What an idiot I am! The more I think of that shirtless picture, the more I want to tell Mr. Donovan to take a hike.

  “How long do you think this will take?” Annie asks, walking him to the door, finally.

  “At least a month,” he answers. “It was nice meeting you.”

  With my stomach churning with jealousy and irritation, I call over, “You too. Oh, Hey. What about having the security gate built first? That way the bar can be open while you finish the remodeling. You know, if the gate’s up, there’s a way to lock up. Would that work?”

  Annie, looking hopeful, turns to hear if it’s possible. Mr. Donovan considers it. “We could do that. That’s a good idea.” He looks at Annie. “I could have the gate built in four days at the most, and you’d be back in business.”