Nailed (Worked Up Book 2)

by Cora Brent

  “In our line of work, it’s always good to be in the habit of remembering details.”

  Jason lowered the menu. “I completely agree,” he said.

  The words sounded casual, yet when our eyes met I felt a rush of heat that sped up my heart.

  I swallowed and shifted in my seat. “So what’s good here?”

  His grin came slow and sexy. “Everything’s good.”

  A gorgeous black-haired woman wearing the same Esposito’s T-shirt as the other employees slid into the booth beside Jason. “I just heard you were here,” she said, and gave him a side-hug.

  A small twinge of unwanted jealousy bubbled in my gut until I saw the woman had a big diamond ring on an important finger.

  Plus, Jason’s smile was friendly, not the kind of smile that promised a variety of dirty outcomes. I could tell the difference, especially where he was concerned.

  “Melanie,” he said, “this is Audrey.”

  “Hi, Audrey,” she said cheerfully. Then her eyes widened. “Wait, is this Audrey Audrey?”

  “Audrey Gordon,” said Jason quickly, shooting Melanie a warning glance. “Audrey, this is Melanie, Dom’s fiancée. Audrey and I are colleagues; both of us are managing the courthouse project.”

  “Oh, right,” said Melanie, but she blushed a little and I wondered if Jason had been complaining about me to his friends. Either that or there was a significant second Audrey in his life.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said politely, because none of this was Melanie’s fault.

  She smiled. If she and Dominic had children, they would be stunning. “Nice to meet you too.”

  “You’ve got a great place here. I always meant to try it,” I said, glancing around to admire the rustic, Mediterranean-style décor. My stomach was also plotting a full-scale revolt over the insane smells that were coming out of the kitchen.

  “You look hungry,” Melanie said with a laugh.

  “I’m tempted to steal a slice of pizza from the next table,” I admitted.

  “Do you take your pizza with toppings or just cheese like this dull character?” She tapped Jason’s arm.

  “I like pepperoni, but cheese is fine.”

  “Half cheese, half pepperoni it is,” Melanie said, easing out of the booth. “I’ll send over some garlic knots right away so you guys don’t start eating the napkins. And I’ll also bring out one of our best bottles.” She put a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell Dom.”

  “Um, thank you, but no wine for me,” I said a little awkwardly, caught off guard by the offer. “I can’t.”

  Melanie tilted her head, most likely wondering why I’d turn down a glass of wine on a Friday night, but she was kind enough not to push the issue. “I bet you would love a glass of our home-brewed iced tea.”

  “I would,” I said gratefully. “Thank you.”

  Melanie smiled one more time and hurried away. But when my eyes returned to my dinner companion, he was looking at me a little oddly.

  “What’s the deal?” he said. “Is it a religion or are you allergic to alcohol?”

  “Neither,” I said. “A bottle of wine just seemed a little romantic for a work dinner.”

  Jason frowned over my answer. “No, that’s not it.”

  “Who says?”

  “I do. Your eyes shift around like a cornered animal when you’re not telling the truth.”

  “And of course you know me so well,” I muttered, wishing there was some food on the table so there would be something to distract Jason away from this conversation.

  “Not as well as I’d like to,” he said in a phony flirtatious tone.

  I glared. “Cut the shit.”

  “No thanks. That sounds messy.”

  “We’ve known each other for six years, Jason.”

  “And yet we hardly know each other at all. Isn’t that right?”

  I smoothed my napkin on my lap so I would have a reason to look down.

  Jason had apparently realized he’d hit a nerve. So of course he kept hitting it. “So what’s the deal? Do you think I can’t keep my hands to myself after a few glasses of wine?”

  “You’re not the problem,” I said bluntly. “I am.”

  He ran a hand over his smooth-shaven square jaw. “Now you’re being cryptic.”

  The words were hard for me to say. I never uttered them if I didn’t have to. And when I did, such as right now, I uttered them in a whisper.

  “I’m an alcoholic, Jason.”

  He blinked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

  “I don’t tend to broadcast it. I haven’t had a drink for many years, not since before I started working at Lester & Brown. I started early, though, when I was a teenager. Put my parents through a hell of a lot of grief. Put myself through even more.” I still couldn’t look at him as I spoke.

  A moment of silence followed. My face burned and I wished I hadn’t unloaded so freely, but I was grateful that Jason had enough sense not to follow up with a sarcastic quip.

  “Audrey,” Jason said.

  I finally looked up. His face wasn’t full of laughter or pity. Either one would have been too much to take right now. His eyes, so dark they were nearly black, were actually gentle. He held my gaze for a moment before he spoke, as if he were sorting through the words in his head first.

  “When I was growing up, my father used to beat the hell out of me,” he finally said. “In fact I have a scar on the back of my right shoulder that looks like a crescent moon. He was old-fashioned, used a belt with a thick monogrammed buckle. One day he went a little too far and broke the skin. When I reached my teens I started mixed martial arts training, mostly in order to learn how to punch back. After that he made do with telling me what a worthless piece of shit I was every day. But he’s always been a great guy, my dad. Just ask anyone, except me, and they’ll tell you so.” Jason sighed and laced his hands together on the table surface before continuing. “In my teens I started responding by behaving as badly as the old man already thought I was, getting booted from two of the best prep schools in the state. I’m not proud of that history. But I can’t pretend it’s not true either.”

  I don’t even think I breathed while Jason narrated this sad tale. I never had any idea about this piece of his background. I thought he was exactly like the guys I knew growing up: rich, arrogant, spoiled. But I didn’t doubt the truth of his words for a second. Back in the day, I hadn’t given that scar any thought.

  Perhaps the two of us—with our private shame and scars hidden beneath shiny layers of affluence—were more typical than anyone guessed.

  “I didn’t know,” I told him.

  He shrugged and shifted his eyes as if he might be a little embarrassed. “It’s not really a topic I enjoy bragging about.”

  “I get it.” I nodded. “I don’t regularly disclose my stints in rehab or the fact that I’m a source of shame to my parents.”

  Jason looked surprised. “Even now?”

  Actually I wasn’t sure how my parents felt these days. We weren’t in the habit of having frequent honest conversations. But there were no mind-reading abilities required to understand that they gazed at me with caution, even during those family times like my brother’s birthday. I’d disappointed them for years. I could do it again.

  “I was . . .” I said to Jason, my voice trailing off as I struggled to find the words I was looking for. “. . . a mess,” I finished. “For a long time. It was years ago, but families have long memories.”

  Jason touched his chin in a thoughtful pose. “Can I tell you something, Audrey?”

  “Sure.”

  He took his hand off his chin and leaned forward. “I’ve known you for six years and I think you’re one of the hardest-working, most reliable people I’ve ever met. I also think that anyone who feels differently ought to have their fucking head examined.”

  Jason was a well-known bullshit artist, but there was nothing insincere about him right now. It wasn’t his fault that I couldn’t seem to answer,
that hearing such praise from a man I’d been at odds with most of my professional life had meant the world to me.

  Luckily I was spared the chore of responding right away, because Melanie returned with a pair of iced teas and a basket of garlic knots.

  “Pizza will be out in a few,” she said cheerfully, and turned to the elderly couple at the next table to inquire how they liked their meal.

  I bit into a buttery garlic knot—the tastiest thing I’d eaten in a month. “She seems nice,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation in a more casual direction.

  Jason stirred some sugar into his iced tea. “Mel? She’s freaking amazing. Dom hit the jackpot. They’re getting married in a few weeks.”

  “Are you going to be the best man?”

  “I’m afraid that honor goes to Dom’s brother. I’ll be a lowly groomsman.”

  I grabbed another garlic knot, looking around. “This was a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “Sitting down to a friendly dinner and trying to evolve into something better than mortal enemies.”

  Jason stopped stirring his tea. “I don’t think of you as my enemy, Audrey.”

  “So you don’t tell your friends that I’m some kind of imperious she-devil?” I asked, thinking of Melanie’s surprised comment when she heard my name.

  He shook his head. “Not that I can recall.”

  “Well, if I’m not the enemy, then what am I?”

  He grinned. “A habitually painful challenge.”

  I kicked him under the table. “There’s some more pain for you.”

  “Didn’t even hurt. Kick harder. Use your heel.”

  “I honestly can’t figure out if you’re being perverted or not.”

  “The safe assumption is always yes. Speaking of perverts, how’s the Viking king?”

  “Lukas?” I was startled. Jason hadn’t mentioned him since the morning the three of us shared a slightly awkward breakfast. And Jason wouldn’t know about the coffee-shop encounter with Lukas a few weeks back or how he’d asked me for another chance. If I’d really wanted to be with Lukas Lund, I would have been tempted to think about him a little more. Instead I hadn’t thought twice about rejecting him, although I was aware he kept hanging around more than he needed to in the hopes I would change my mind. There was no need for the chief architect to hand deliver minor plan revisions to the jobsite, yet Lukas had shown up twice in the past week alone.

  “Yeah, Lukas,” Jason said, and even though he looked amused, he practically spat the man’s name.

  I shrugged. “You know about as much as I do about the status of Lukas Lund. You’re copied on all the emails he sends.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, shifty eyes.”

  I kicked him again. This time he grabbed my foot and plucked my shoe off.

  “Jason,” I hissed. “Give me my damn shoe back.”

  “Later,” he said. “Pizza’s here.”

  I sat there and ate two slices of pizza with one shoe on. I didn’t really have a choice unless I wanted to make a scene, and I didn’t want to make a scene. To my amazement I realized I was having fun. The only time we discussed work was when Jason checked with the hospital and found out Jonas was out of surgery and doing well. I made a note to send something to the kid’s hospital room tomorrow.

  “We’re pigs,” I said, nodding to the pizza. “Can’t believe there’s only two slices left.”

  “They’re yours,” Jason said, pushing the tray over. “I’m not a fan of pepperoni.”

  “Hey, I have to use the restroom.”

  “Do you need my permission?”

  “No, I need my shoe.”

  He crooked a finger. “Come here.”

  “Where, in your lap?”

  “If you’d like. Or you could just give me your foot underneath the table and I’ll replace your shoe.”

  I could have just stood up and stubbornly demanded my shoe. But there was a big part of me that was enjoying this game. Despite the fact that I’d spent the last six years trying to deny that I was still extremely physically attracted to the man across the table, I wanted to keep playing. I rested my bare foot on his knee and it felt good, it felt reckless, it felt daring.

  Jason didn’t keep his word. Instead of replacing my shoe, he gently took my foot in his hands and rubbed the pad of one thumb over the arch. “You’re ticklish,” he observed.

  I was ticklish. But that wasn’t the reason I was having trouble sitting still. Every erogenous zone in my body instantly awoke and throbbed the instant Jason touched me.

  “Knock it off,” I said, my voice squeaking.

  He smirked and treated my foot to a deeper massage. “Why?”

  I swallowed. “Because we’re having a rather X-rated moment in the middle of a family restaurant.”

  “No, it would only be X-rated if I pressed my rather sizeable erection into your heel.”

  My mouth fell open. “You’re nuts.”

  “And yet you still want me.” He raised an eyebrow. “Right?”

  I did. I really did. Whether it was because I hadn’t had sex with another breathing creature in many months or because I was sick of work or because six years of simmering sexual tension had reached a boiling point, I wanted Jason Roma bad. Or maybe the biggest reason was because I’d already had him. And I knew exactly what I was missing.

  Jason’s hands were now circling my ankle, kneading the joint and slowly working higher. “Audrey, I like you. Always have. I genuinely respect you as a partner. And right now, I want to take you back to your apartment and fuck you every which way until the sun comes up. Would that really be the end of the world?”

  My heart was pounding. Slowly I retracted my foot from his grasp. He let me. He even handed over my shoe.

  “I’ve still got to go to the restroom,” I muttered, fumbling with my shoe.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Jason said casually. “Will you do one thing for me while you’re gone?”

  I stood up and gathered my handbag, holding it over my chest like a shield. “What’s that?”

  He winked. “Think about what I said.”

  I didn’t promise one way or another. This was all too similar to my talk with Lukas. Only Lukas was asking for a lot more than Jason was. And I had a much bigger reason to refuse him. Jason only wanted some fun—some relief from the push and pull of physical attraction that we’d been fighting all this time.

  After dealing with my bursting bladder, I stood at the mirror washing my hands and examined my face. My skin was flushed, my hair slightly messy. I looked like I’d already been doing something to feel guilty about.

  “Audrey,” said a voice at my side. I’d been so busy staring at myself that I hadn’t noticed there was another woman in the restroom. And that the other woman was my ex-sister-in-law.

  “Jennifer,” I said, feeling strange about not greeting her with a hug like I did for years. But I couldn’t very well hug the woman who had wrecked my brother’s life.

  Jennifer tucked her light brown hair behind her ears. She was as petite and pretty as ever, still looked the same as the vibrant girl my brother had brought home for the first time eight years ago. But now she also looked nervous.

  “How are you?” she asked. “I saw you across the restaurant and I was trying to get up the nerve to come say hello.”

  I took note of her flashy red dress and careful makeup. “I’m fine. Are you here with someone?”

  She looked away for a second and then nodded. “Yes.”

  “A date?”

  “My boyfriend.”

  “The same one you left my brother for?”

  She winced. “It’s not that simple, Audrey.”

  “It never is,” I muttered, and searched my bag for some lip gloss. If Jennifer was waiting for me to make her feel better about ditching my brother for Mr. Fabulous from Facebook, then she’d be waiting for eternity.

  “I’ve been meaning to call you,” Jennifer said. “I thought we could have lunch sometime.”r />
  “Are the boys with William tonight?” I asked, ignoring her suggestion and the earnest tone in her voice. Before the divorce, planning a lunch with Jennifer wouldn’t have been at all out of the ordinary. We’d been friends. I had thought of her as my sister. It hurt that I couldn’t think of her that way anymore.

  She looked down. “He’s working. They’re with a sitter.”

  “Great. This has been a nice chat, Jennifer, but I really do need to go.”

  Her unhappiness drove lines into her face. “I don’t blame any of you for despising me.”

  “Okay.”

  “I just wish you didn’t.”

  Instead of answering, I leaned toward the mirror and applied the lip gloss. The thing is, I didn’t really despise Jennifer. She was the mother of two incredible little boys whom I loved more than the world. I just couldn’t forgive her for hurting my big brother. I knew instinctively he’d never forgive anyone who hurt me. And after everything he’d done for me, I owed him that.

  “You have a good night, Audrey,” Jennifer said before she walked out.

  “I will,” I said, even though she’d already left. I stood in front of the mirror alone and wondering what the hell the point of it all was. What was the sense in being chronically ethical and upstanding like William when all it got you was a cheating spouse and a broken family? The answer suddenly wasn’t clear to me.

  The only thing clear to me was that no one really had their shit together. No one had all the answers. And in the meantime, I didn’t need to deny myself every single bit of irresponsible fun.

  Jason was out there in the dining room waiting for me. He’d been blunt about his intentions. My heart pounded as I remembered his direct, unabashedly erotic words.

  “Would that really be the end of the world?”

  The question had come from Jason, but I knew the answer.

  “No,” I said out loud. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world at all.”

  I smiled at myself in the mirror. I’d been good for far too long. It was time to be a little bad, just for one night.

  Jason smiled when he saw me returning to the table. He really was outrageously sexy. I couldn’t wait to tear that Armani shirt off and feel those broad shoulder muscles underneath my hands. It was almost intoxicating, this feeling. I needed this, needed him. I wasn’t really breaking any rules. And the courthouse be damned. Just for tonight. No one would ever know.