by Lauren Layne
He didn’t. Instead he looked at her, nodded once as though he’d come to some conclusion in his head that she wasn’t privy to, and turned toward his car.
Swallowing her disappointment, Brooke stepped toward the curb, her eyes scanning for an available taxi, knowing it was going to be a long shot on a Friday evening when everyone was eager to commence their Friday-night activities.
Which for her would likely involve a frozen dinner and another rerun binge of Sex and the City.
“Brooke.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Seth was standing there, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched her. He stepped closer. “You said you were afraid you wanted more.”
“Yeah?” she said, her hands slowly falling to her sides.
His jaw clenched. “You said . . . you said that after breakfast, you were afraid you’d want lunch. And that after lunch you’d want dinner.”
“Right,” she said nervously.
“Have dinner with me.”
Oh. Oh.
He took another step closer, hands still shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched up around his ears like he was nervous. Nervous she might say no.
“I’m hungry, and I’m here, and if you don’t have plans, I’d like to take you to dinner.”
She swallowed. “To discuss wedding stuff?”
He shook his head once. “No. Because I want more, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
BROOKE BIT OFF A piece of her steak, dragged it through the buttery sauce, and popped it in her mouth with a happy little sigh. “This place is magical. How’d you find it?”
Seth picked up his wineglass, debated a lie, then went with the truth. “It was my ex’s favorite. We came here a lot.”
“Ah,” she said, picking up a fry and nibbling on the end. “Nadia.”
His eyebrow lifted. “You remember her name.”
“Because I was jealous,” she said point-blank.
He blinked. “You realize it’s not typical to be so unabashed about these things, right?”
Brooke shrugged. “I never really understood the point in playing games. Seems like we’d all be a little happier and things would be a little less complicated if we all just said what we wanted, you know?”
“I do know.”
“And it’s what good businessmen and women do, right? They just put it out there. They know what they want. They go after it. Why can’t personal life be that way?”
“And what is it that you want?” he said. “Other than to get me naked again, obviously.”
“Obviously,” she with a cheeky smile.
He noticed she didn’t answer his question.
Brooke took a sip of her cocktail as she looked around. “Seriously, though, this place is great. Even if I am stuck picturing you gazing into Nadia’s eyes.”
“Do I look like the sort of man who gazes into someone’s eyes?” he asked. He didn’t want to talk about Nadia. Not here. Not now.
Brooke had a point though. The place did have its charm. It was a tiny, crowded little place on the corner of First and First, where the tables were too close together, the servers slightly frazzled, the food taking just a touch longer to come to the table than it should have. And yet nobody seemed to mind. Groups ranged from clusters of girlfriends chattering over wine to a business dinner in the corner to a rowdy celebration near the back to couples.
A lot of couples. Couples like . . . him and Brooke?
Hell, he had no idea what they were. Just thinking about it made his chest ache.
Apart from their rendezvous at his hotel last week, this was the first time when Seth didn’t have to pretend—to himself, or to Brooke—that they were there for any reason other than being in each other’s company.
He watched across the table as Brooke dug back into her steak, smiling at her enthusiasm before he tucked back into his own meal. They’d both opted for the steak frites. A caloric nightmare that was worth every single gram of fat.
“So what are you going to tell your sister about the success of her little matchmaking plan?” Brooke asked.
“I’m not,” he grumbled.
“Oh, come on. You’re not going to let her know that she was at least a little bit successful?”
“I’ve got you sitting across the dinner table from me giving me sexy eyes. I’d say that she was a lot successful,” he said, holding her gaze.
Brooke’s eyes narrowed playfully. “You’re giving me sexy eyes back, Mr. Tyler.”
“Because I want you,” he said bluntly, setting his knife and fork on the plate and leaning forward slightly so he could lower his voice. “As much as I’m enjoying this steak, as perfect as this wine is, nothing tastes as good as you.”
Her cheeks colored. “Seth.”
“Tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he said, reaching out and prying her hand away from where it fiddled with her cocktail glass. He stroked his thumb along her palm. “Tell me you haven’t thought about how we were together.”
“Mostly I thought about after,” she said a little glumly. “About how I took something pretty fantastic and turned it ugly.”
“That morning wasn’t all your fault,” he said. “I could have handled things . . . better.”
She smiled. “That’s true. For a man who runs a billion-dollar business, you certainly don’t have a way with words.”
“No. I don’t,” he admitted. “But I’m trying.”
You’re worth trying for.
Fuck. The woman was turning him into a drippy mess.
“Well, you’re doing quite well right now,” she teased softly. “Although if you keep looking at me like that, we’re never going to make it to dessert, and I’ve seen some chocolate decadence going around that looks really good.”
Seth groaned. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to tell a man that sex with him rates second to chocolate?”
Brooke opened her mouth to retort, but before she could (hopefully) contradict him, a shadow appeared over their table.
Seth glanced up, expecting to see their server.
“Nadia.” Seth’s hand jerked back so quickly from Brooke’s that he nearly knocked her water glass over in the process.
Holy mother fucking hell. Had he somehow summoned her here?
It was his ex-girlfriend who reached out to calmly steady the teetering glass. “Hello, Seth,” she said calmly. “It’s nice to see you.”
He forced himself to meet the familiar brown eyes of his ex. She was as exotically beautiful as he remembered. Her mother was Korean, her father Russian, and their only daughter was stunning.
And she knew it. She’d always known it.
A libel attorney, she was as smart and ambitious as she was gorgeous, and he’d found the combination intoxicating.
Hell, he’d found it a lot more than that. He’d been ready to put a ring on it.
But seeing her now, looking down at him in exactly the same way she had a year ago, her smile slightly mocking, her eyes completely cold, Seth realized for the first time that perhaps he’d dodged a bullet when she’d said no.
Would he have been content with Nadia as his wife?
Probably.
But happy . . .? He studied her, from her shining dark hair down to her dark red manicure all the way down to the black Louboutin pumps she favored. No. He wouldn’t have been happy.
And he was no longer interested in letting her look down on him.
He stood and pecked her cheek, feeling . . . nothing.
Not regret, or sadness, or relief. Only blankness.
She smiled her usual cool smile. It wasn’t that Nadia didn’t feel. It wasn’t that she was an ice princess. He’d seen her get wildly passionate about some of her cases. It was just that she’d never been passionate about him.
Her eyes flicked over him. “You look good.”
“You too,” he said automatically.
Nadia turned toward Brooke and extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Nadia.”
“Brooke Ba
ldwin.”
Nadia rarely bothered with small talk with people whose names she didn’t recognize, and she turned back to Seth. “I thought you didn’t like this place.”
He frowned. “I like it.”
“You always said that it was too far downtown.”
“Doesn’t mean that I didn’t like it.”
Nadia’s brown eyes narrowed before she shrugged. “So how are you?”
“I’m good,” he said.
Only after the words were out did he realize how inadequate they were.
He was better than good. He was better than he’d been in a long time, all because he was more alive than he’d ever felt. It was like some sort of damned movie where the character didn’t even know he was half whole until he met that one person who completed him.
Or some shit like that.
“And you?” he asked politely.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Brooke pretending to fall asleep at the dull conversation.
“Also good,” Nadia said. “My brother’s in town. He was my date for the evening, actually. Just left to catch a cab back uptown to his hotel. And Maya? She’s good?”
Seth’s eyes flicked toward Brooke long enough to see her cracking up into her cocktail glass. He couldn’t blame her. This was getting downright painful.
“She’s—great,” he said, catching himself before he could utter the word good again. “Getting married, actually.”
“Ah, so Grant finally pulled his head out of his ass, huh? Gotta give him credit—he works fast.”
Seth stared at her. “She’s not marrying Grant.”
“Oh!” Nadia’s eyes went wide in the first bit of expression she’d shown since crashing his date. “I just assumed. He’s always been so hung up on her.”
“Told you,” Brooke muttered.
Nadia glanced at Brooke, this time looking a bit closer. “You’ve met Grant? And Maya?”
“I’m Maya’s wedding planner,” Brooke explained with a smile.
“Oh. So this is a business dinner,” Nadia said in a bored tone.
“No,” Seth said, just as Brooke replied, “Yes.”
He gave her a sharp look.
“Well, it was really nice seeing you,” his ex said in the same tone he expected she gave her dentist when she told him she’d be back again in six months.
“Likewise.” He kissed her cheek once more, registering how cool it felt, noting that her perfume was familiar and yet also completely unappealing to him.
Seth resumed his spot at the table just as Brooke reached across the table and picked up his glass of wine since her own drink was now empty.
“Well, that was fun,” she said.
“Sorry about that. Shitty timing, seeing as we were just talking about Nadia, and how . . .”
Her eyebrows lifted. “How I sort of wanted to scratch her eyes out?”
Seth reached out, slowly taking the glass back from her, letting his fingers brush against hers, lingering against their softness.
“Feeling possessive, are we?” he said, his voice coming out as a low growl.
He noted the way she watched his mouth as he sipped his wine. The tip of her tongue flicked slowly across her lower lip, and he felt his cock stir. Goddamn, he wanted this woman.
“I may have changed my mind about dessert,” she said, her voice lower than usual.
“Really?” he said, enjoying the game they were playing. “Because I was just starting to warm to the idea of watching you purr while you ate that chocolate soufflé.”
She pursed her lips and leaned forward slightly, further lowering her voice. “How about you watch me purr with my lips wrapped around your cock instead?”
Seth gripped the glass so hard he was surprised it didn’t shatter. “Yeah, okay. You win, Baldwin.”
She grinned in victory, and two minutes later, they were out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Five
DEX HAD BARELY CLOSED the car door behind them before Seth reached for her. His fingers slid into her hair, his big hand palming her head as he drew her face to his.
Brooke closed her eyes, desperate for his kiss, but he paused, brushing his lips against her cheek. “I like you.”
Her eyes flew open at the simple, unexpected admission, and she pulled back slightly to meet his gaze. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
The corner of his mouth turned up, his eyes locked on the spot where his thumb and forefinger rubbed against a strand of her hair. “I wasn’t supposed to.”
“You weren’t supposed to like me?”
Blue eyes latched onto hers. “I wasn’t even supposed to meet you. You weren’t in my plans, and I like my plans.”
“I’m shocked,” she said teasingly. “Absolutely shocked.”
Brooke placed both palms against his face and drew him down to her, their lips meeting softly as they kissed sweet and slow.
His free arm wrapped around her back, pulling her close as his head tilted, deepening the kiss. She gave a small sigh, leaning all the way into the kiss. Every time he got closer to her, her breath caught, her pulse quickened, and she wanted. This kiss was no different. If anything it was even more dangerous to her. The passion was still there, hot and furious in the way their fingers clawed at each other, in the way they couldn’t get close enough. But this time there was another layer to this kiss that made it all the more intoxicating.
I like you, he’d said.
She smiled into the kiss, her hands sliding up to his hair, even as her fingers longed for the moment that they were out of this car so she could tear off his ever-present tie, run her hands over his perfect chest . . .
Brooke pulled back and blinked up at him. “Where are we going?”
“My place?” he said, his lips sliding along her jaw.
Brooke’s neck fell back helplessly as she struggled to hold on to her thoughts.
“Wait, no,” she said, pushing him back slightly. “Can we go to my place?”
“Ah . . . sure? If you want.”
“I do want,” she said, feeling a little foolish. “It’s just, last time we went to your place, it didn’t end well, and I don’t want all that bad energy to crash my horny, you know?”
“Crash your horny, huh? You’re something else, Baldwin.” He kissed the side of her head. “Okay.”
Seth reached for the small button that controlled the partition separating the driver section, and rolled it down just enough so that Dex’s busy salt-and-pepper eyebrows were visible in the rearview mirror.
Brooke fought the urge to hide her face in Seth’s shoulder. Groping in the back of a car, for God’s sake.
“We’ll be going to Brooke’s place,” Seth said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Eighty-Second and Second.”
“Yes, sir,” Dex said with a nod.
Brooke’s head whipped around to stare at Seth’s profile as he rolled the divider back up. “You know where I live?”
“Obviously.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve never told you.”
“Nope.”
She pinched his arm. “Don’t be creepy. How do you know that?”
He caught her fingers before she could pinch him again, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “Maya told me.”
“But how would Maya know?”
Brooke thought back, remembered that Maya had given Brooke a crash course in the various Manhattan neighborhoods recently. They’d discussed Brooke’s current neighborhood of Yorkville. But had she mentioned her specific address?
Possibly. Probably.
Maybe it wasn’t so weird that he knew. It was just—
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his lips still warm against her fingers as his mouth drifted down toward her wrist, his tongue flicking against the delicate pulse there.
“Nothing,” she said. “Not really. It’s just a little unnerving that you can be so . . .”
“Controlling,” he said.
“I don’t know that tha
t’s the right word,” she said.
But it wasn’t the wrong word, either.
“I think you might find people appreciate you asking them directly if there’s something you want to know rather than just deciding it’s your right to know.”
He met her gaze steadily. “This isn’t really about your address, is it? It’s that I’m still against the Maya/Neil thing.”
“You have a right to your opinions and your hunches; I just think you should talk to your sister about it.”
He turned his head slightly toward the window, his face looking bleak and hollow. “I’ll consider it.”
“Do. And to bring this back to us, I don’t want to be one of your projects that needs fixing.”
His head snapped back to look at her. “Why the hell would you need fixing?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Because of the thing with Clay.”
Seth touched a knuckle softly to her cheek. “Thought you were over that.”
“I am,” she said automatically. “It’s just important to me that you don’t see me as that woman. The one that got ditched at the altar.”
“All right,” he said slowly. “Is it all right that I think of you as a woman though? Maybe my woman. For tonight.”
She leaned forward slightly and brushed his lips with hers. “Yeah.”
The car slowed to a stop, and Dex came around to open the door for them. Brooke accepted the chauffeur’s hand, forcing herself to smile as though she wasn’t horribly embarrassed, hoping that the dark night sky would hide her blush.
Seth muttered something to Dex along the lines of don’t wait up, and a moment later the car pulled away, leaving them in the quiet of her neighborhood.
His hand rested on her back as he glanced up at the mid-rise where she lived on the fourth floor. “It’s lovely.”
She snorted. “It’s not.”
“It is,” he insisted. “It’s homey.”
“I suppose,” she said, trying to see the building through his eyes. Mostly she’d just been so darn glad to be out of California when she’d arrived that she hadn’t paid much attention to the building that would be home.
She liked it well enough. The doormen were nice. The building was clean. Sure, the elevator was a little slow, and her door squeaked, and maybe the neighborhood was just a touch more secluded than she’d like. But she was determined to like it, therefore she did like it.