And then I swivel on my heels and do just that.
I don’t look back, even though I want to.
It’s done. I can’t back out now. It’s a risky move and deep in my heart I don’t think it will work, but I’ve run out of options and it’s time to move on with my life.
If he doesn’t come after me, I have my answer.
If he does, I have my answer too.
Either way I’ll know and be able to move forward in a concrete direction.
I make my way back to the bar and Gwen, who’s still chatting it up with the cute guy from before. When I stand in front of her she picks up a shot off the bar she’s clearly had waiting for me. “How’d it go?”
I down the drink with a hiss and slam the shot glass far too hard onto the bar.
She raises a brow. “That good, huh?”
I suck on the lime before tossing it into the glass. “Is he looking?”
She peers around me. “Yep.”
I blow out a deep breath. “What’s his expression?”
Gwen narrows her gaze. “Hmmm…I’m going to go with not happy.”
Good. At least I made an exit. I turn to the guy hitting on Gwen. “Hey, do you work at the station?”
“Yeah,” he says, his brow furrowing. “You’re Michael’s sister, right?”
“That I am.” I beam at him and scan over the crowded bar. “So tell me, who’s the biggest player here?”
“Um…” His expression turns a touch nervous.
“Oh no,” Gwen says, shaking her head.
“Oh yes.” I shift my attention back to who I’m now referring to as the guy. “So?”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not looking to get on Michael’s bad side.”
I sigh. Having a high-ranking detective for a brother is such a pain in the ass. And god, when had guys turn into such pussies? “Suit yourself.”
It’s not like players are hard to find. Toss a few seductive glances their way and they move right in, after all, they’re all about the easy. I wink at Gwen. “I’ll be back.”
Before she can stop me, I start my slow crawl through the room. Along the way I stop and talk to my parents, Michael, and my sister and her husband. I talk to my brother’s coworkers I’ve met over the years, as well as friends I’ve known all my life. All the while I keep an eye out for that guy—you know the one—that eye fucks you from across the room and thinks he’s god’s gift to women.
The only person I don’t talk to, or even look at, is Leo, but I fantasize he’s watching me, which tells me I have a lot of work ahead of me if I want to get over him. But, hey, it’s a start, and that’s where all change happens, at the beginning.
Who knows, maybe I’ll take this mystery man home with me.
I haven’t had sex in far too long to admit to and maybe a one-night stand is just what I need. He’ll have to be good, and have considerable skills to take my mind off Leo. A girl can dream.
And, after seemingly endless tours of the room, I finally spot him. Exactly the one I’ve been looking for. He’s tall and gorgeous, with blond hair, blue eyes. He’s built long and lanky, like Mathew McConaughey in True Detective, before he became a beer guzzling, chain-smoking homeless person.
Leo’s complete opposite.
Our gazes meet and he gives me a slight nod of appreciation. I boldly meet his stare, give him a fleeting smile, and turn back to a friend from down the street where we grew up. When we were teenagers we’d had a mad flirtation for about fifteen minutes and have been friends ever since. Tom’s married now, with a kid on the way, a mortgage, and a three-car garage.
He’s living a life I can’t even fathom, nor do I want to.
When I think enough time has passed, I slowly crane my head to find my player watching me with hooded eyes. His gaze skips down my face, lingers on my mouth, and trails a path down my body. When he finally makes his way back up to my eyes, I give him a dry, droll look and turn back around.
Tom and his wife are talking about their latest ultrasound and I stifle an eye roll.
It’s not that I don’t like kids, I do. I have a niece I adore, but I really only have interest in kids I’m actually related to, and I’m not one of those women who get all worked up about anything baby orientated. I smile. “That’s fantastic. I’m so happy for you.”
Tom’s wife, Mary, rubs her belly and starts talking about the baby’s head circumference. Just as my eyes are starting to glaze over a hand grasps my elbow.
For a fraction of a fraction of a second, my heart leaps into my throat. It’s Leo. I crane my neck and my hope is quickly dashed when it’s the player from across the room. At least I managed to reel in one man.
Not the one I want, but he’ll certainly do.
He gives me a killer smile that flashes all sorts of dimple. “Hi.”
I smile back, turning toward him. Pleased at how easy it was to get him to come to me. “Hi.”
His fingers tighten on my elbow. “I’m Brandon.”
“Jillian.” I suck my bottom lip through my teeth, in a gesture designed to draw Brandon’s attention to my mouth. A feature an old boyfriend once described as being designed to be wrapped around a man’s cock. At the time I scoffed because, come on, is there a straight man alive that doesn’t think a woman’s mouth looks better with his dick in it? But over time I’ve come to appreciate the comment. My lips are tinged with red, full and appear slightly swollen, like I’ve been doing something illicit.
A woman has to work with what she has. There’s no shame in that.
Brandon falls for the ploy hook, line and sinker, and his blue eyes darken. “You want to dance?”
There’s a dance floor in the back already littered with people. Well, now, this couldn’t have worked out any better. Unlike Leo, this plan comes together exactly as I’d envisioned it. “Sure.” I turn back to Tom and Mary. “It was great seeing you guys, good luck with your baby.”
They wave their goodbyes and I let Brandon pull me away. When we near the dance floor he stops, and grins down at me. “Do you really want to dance? Or just get away?”
I laugh and pull him the rest of the way. I’m looking to be on display and I can’t do that off in some alcove. “Both.”
And like the gods are smiling down on me, the song changes to a slow, seductive sway, and he pulls me into his arms.
I flutter my lashes up at him. “How do you know Michael?”
His fingers slide down my spine. “Old college friends.”
“An ivy leaguer, huh?” My brother played football for University of Pennsylvania, and was well on the way to being respectable, until he decided to major in law enforcement and become a cop. My parents were horrified, but over time they learned to adapt and forgive him his profession. I curl my arms around Brandon’s neck. “So there’s actually someone here who’s not a cop.”
He laughs. “Not even close.”
“And what do you do?” I let a suggestive rasp fill my voice.
His hands drop, falling to the curve of my hips. “I own a club.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“Doubtful.” He flashes those dimples again.
He’s got quite a mouth on him too, and I let my gaze linger. “Maybe you can take me there sometime.”
Again he laughs and reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Maybe. And how do you know Michael?”
This is the part I’d been dreading, and I’ve seriously debated waiting to execute my plan because of it, but I’d never been one that let’s grass grow under my feet. Once I made my decisions I had to act. I lick my lips, hoping he likes me enough to overcome this one teeny, tiny thing. “I’m his sister.”
Brandon stiffens and starts to pull back. “Oh.”
I grit my teeth. Curses. I do the only thing I can think of and try daring him. “You’re not going to let a little thing like that stop you, are you?”
His hands immediately return to a respectable level. “Honestly, yes. Yes, I am.”
>
My shoulders sag in disappointment and I drop my seduction act. “Really?”
Something akin to regret rolls over his expression. “Sorry, baby doll.”
“Well, this is disappointing.” My stupid brother and all his danger.
He chuckles. “As gorgeous as you are it’s a real travesty, but Michael would never forgive me.”
I roll my eyes. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard those words. I don’t get it. Does he have some sort of bounty out for anyone that touches his baby sister?”
Brandon’s brow furrows, and he looks away. “You’ll have to talk to him about that one, but not that I know of.”
I sigh. I handpick the hottest guy in the room and he won’t touch me because of my brother. I grumble, “My sister didn’t have these problems.”
He chucks me under the chin, like I’m a little slugger that just hit a home run. “I have a theory about why that may be, but it’s really not my place.”
I blow out an exasperated breath. “Well, if you’re not going to tell me, will you at least do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
Okay, this is a risk but I’m out of options. This is the only guy in the room that has the kind of presence I’m looking for. “Can you fake it?”
The song ends and he pulls me from the floor. “Fake it?”
“Yes, pretend you’re attracted to me.”
Confusion passes over his expression. “I don’t have to pretend, if you weren’t Michael’s sister, I’d have talked you back to my place already.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Well, someone’s got a healthy ego.”
“Comes with the territory, honey,” he says.
“What territory?” I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about.
He shakes his head. “Never mind. So tell me about why you want me to fake it.”
“Since you’re not interested because of the Michael factor, I’ll be honest with you.” It’s odd, I feel comfortable with him, like the second we dropped our personas we became friends. “I’m trying to make someone jealous, and I could really use your help.”
He bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “You little vixen. I like you, Jillian Banks.”
I huff and cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah, just not enough to sleep with me.”
“Not true. But it’s a good thing I erred on the side of caution, since you’re clearly on the prowl for someone else and I would have gotten my heart broken.”
“Yeah right.” Not buying what he’s selling.
He winks. “So how can I help?”
“Hit on me, of course. Pretending we’re going home together would be even better.”
His head tilts as though contemplating. “Hang on.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell. He pushes some icons on the screen and proceeds to type out a text message. Once he’s done he nods. “All right, I’ll do it.”
My brows knit. “Who’d you text?”
“Your brother.” He gives me another grin. “I told him no matter what it looked like, I was not hitting on his sister.”
Men. God save me from their peculiar code of honor. I wave a hand. “So you’re in?”
His fingers slide around my neck and tangle in my hair. “Honey, if he’s not jealous after what I’m about to do to you, he’s either dead, gay, or has no interest in you.”
Exactly what I was looking for. I grin. “Let the games begin.”
Leo
I’ve officially gone insane.
After Jillian’s very impressive speech, which I can tell by the set of her jaw she means every word of, I’ve pretty much gone into a type of primal, caveman mode I can’t talk myself out of. As she walked away, drawing the gaze of every fucking guy in the room, I had to exact every scrap of willpower I have not to run after her.
I drank my beer and argued with myself that this was for the best.
That she needed to move on.
That this unspoken standoff between us had to end sometime.
That Michael would never approve of me corrupting his sister.
That no woman, not even her, was worth ruining a friendship.
That I’m not a commitment guy.
That she wasn’t what I need her to be.
That I wasn’t what she needs me to be.
That it would be a disaster.
Every argument dies a sudden, painful death the second Brandon Townsend III lays his hands on her.
Brandon is my other best friend. And, as far as I can tell, besides Michael, the only other dominant guy in the room. The three of us, all being of like mind, and having odd schedules, often spent our off time together. I know all about the things Brandon likes to do to girls and he’s not the nice, vanilla boy Jillian needs or deserves.
That she walked away from me and latched on to him makes me crazy in a way I can’t even put into words. I want to pretend this is about protecting Jillian from the big, bad wolf, but the possessive jealousy beating away at me doesn’t allow for that kind of self-denial.
With a clenched jaw, and fingers laced too tightly around my beer, I watch Jillian lean into Brandon, beaming up at him with that fucking mouth of hers.
They look good together, too good. It makes me want to punch something. I want to go over there and rip out his heart.
But worse, I want to walk over there and claim her.
It’s only by the grace of god that I’m able to control myself. But the moment Brandon heads for the bathroom, I’m on him, nipping at his heels.
I push the door open with so much force it swings back and hits the wall.
Brandon’s standing over the faucet and looks at me in the mirror with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I’m impressed with your willpower, but I knew you’d break eventually.”
I say in my best bad cop voice, “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing, but it stops now. Leave her alone.”
Brandon flicks off the water and, casual as can be, walks over and grabs a bunch of paper towels. “I don’t think so.”
“I mean it, Brandon. I will rip you apart limb by limb if you lay one finger on her.” I don’t give two fucks that I have no right, or any say in what she does. My mind is past logic.
He turns to face me, one brow raised. “Let me get this straight. You won’t take what she’s clearly offering, but you don’t want anyone else to have her either. Do I have that correct?”
Yes. Unreasonably, that’s exactly what I want. “I’m just looking out for her best interests and it sure as hell isn’t you.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
“She’s not like that, Brandon. And Michael sure as hell isn’t going to stand for you hitting on his sister.”
He shrugs. “I’ve been with her all night, but you’re the one standing here, not him.”
It’s the truth. Although I don’t know why Michael appears fine with Brandon and his sister when he’s warned me off her a million times. It’s not like I’ve ever confessed my feelings for her, but he’s not stupid and he’s caught me watching her too many times for casual interest. I grit my teeth. “Just leave her alone.”
“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.” Brandon smirks, walks around me, and leaves.
Fucking hell.
Jillian
Brandon is true to his word and lavishes me with attention. After one discussion with my brother, where I rolled my eyes while Brandon explained he had no lascivious intentions toward me, we were off.
Damn was he good. And fun. It almost made me wish I wasn’t hung up on Leo, that there wasn’t the pesky brother problem.
All night, he stroked my back. Lingered over the curve of my hip. Nuzzled my neck. Gave me long, suggestive looks before trailing a finger over my cheek.
And I was so proud of myself, because not once did I look in Leo’s direction. The only indication I had that my evil plan was working was when Gwen walked by, whistled softly, before whispering, “Girl, someone is not happy.”
Even then, I
didn’t look at him. See? Progress.
Instead, I drank too much alcohol, laughed, and flirted up at Brandon. He flashed his dimples and winked.
Now a couple hours later he presses me against the wall, puts a hand next to my ear, and leans down. “Your guy hasn’t tackled me yet.”
I shrug. “He’s got some sort of iron-clad willpower.”
Brandon smirks, like he knows something I don’t, before saying, “To up the ante, I’d kiss you, but I’m not sure Michael can take it.”
I blow out a hard breath. “What is it with him? I’m a grown woman, why won’t he let me have a boyfriend?”
Brandon laughs. “I have a feeling it’s less about having a boyfriend and more about the kind of man you are attracted to and is attracted to you back.”
He’s made several cryptic comments like this and I still have no idea what he means. “What exactly are you talking about?”
“Oh nothing.” Brandon glances into the crowded bar before looking back at me with a raised brow. “The guy you’re trying to make jealous, it’s Leo, right?”
Surprise he even knows Leo flashes through me. I blink up at Brandon. “How’d you know?”
Brandon’s lips quirk. “You’ve done a very good job ignoring him, but he’s been giving me death glares all night. He also cornered me in the bathroom a minute ago and threatened to rip me apart limb by limb if I didn’t leave you alone. So you know, I’m a genius and figured it out.”
A kind of hopeful elation surges through me. “So it’s working?”
“I’d say so, baby doll.” He curves a hand over the nape of my neck.
“How do you know him?”
Brandon’s lips trail over my collarbone, raising the fine hairs there. “We move in the same circles and have become good friends over time, although I’m guessing he doesn’t feel too fondly toward me right now.”
“You hang out with cops?”
Brandon raises his head and looks into my eyes, studying me closely, really peering at me as though trying to figure something out. He shakes his head. “No. A different circle.”
It’s like a puzzle, and Brandon somehow has this missing piece that’s eluded me, but he refuses to clue me the rest of the way in. “What circle is that?”
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