Coming Apart at the Seams

by Jenna Sutton

  He still had no idea what he’d done to make her run from him like he was a serial killer. The look on her face before she had dashed from the kitchen had been so anguished he’d felt as if someone had kicked him in the balls. And then Rayna had. The memory made him wince. The older woman had been painfully accurate with her pointy-toed shoe.

  “What’s wrong, Priest? You don’t like the bourbon?” Quinn asked, assuming Nick’s wince was related to his drink rather than memories of having his testicles abused. “I think it’s really good.”

  “I like it.”

  “Good. I’d hate to think I invested in a company that produces paint thinner rather than quality liquor.”

  Nick was surprised to hear Quinn had invested in Beck’s company. Quinn was an astute businessman, and he was very careful with his money. Although Nick had met Beck at Quinn and Amelia’s New Year’s Eve party, the conversation hadn’t moved beyond basic introductions, and he was interested to know more about him.

  “How long have you known Beck?” Nick asked.

  “I met him in grad school. We were in the same MBA classes at Stanford.”

  “W-w-w-what’s the story behind Trinity?”

  “When we were at Stanford, Beck put together a business plan for a micro-distillery and asked me to look over it. It was solid, really solid—one of the best plans I’ve ever seen, in fact. So I provided the start-up capital for Beck. He brought in two college friends to help him, and here we are.”

  Abruptly, Cal shifted and pulled Quinn’s phone from the seat cushion. He passed the phone to Quinn, who immediately popped open the screen. After a moment, he smiled and handed it back to his younger brother.

  “Amelia says ‘hello’ and to ‘behave like the men we should be rather than the boys we are.’”

  All three of them laughed.

  “W-w-w-what is Amelia doing w-w-w-while you’re gone?”

  “Ava Grace flew in a few days ago, and the two of them are going over to Teagan’s for a ‘girls’ night.’ Whatever the hell that means.”

  “They’re probably going to watch The Notebook and drink wine,” Cal said, his voice clearly conveying his disgust.

  Nick choked back a laugh, looking down into his empty tumbler. Back when he and Teagan had been friends, he’d spent an evening with her watching The Notebook and drinking wine.

  She had snuggled up to him, close enough for him to smell her fruity body lotion and hear her soft breathing. She’d fallen asleep against him halfway through the movie, her head nestled on his chest.

  He remembered the night in detail because the movie had made him cry, and when Teagan had woken up and noticed his red-rimmed eyes, he’d lied and told her that he was allergic to her lotion. She’d never worn it again, which was a damn shame because it had smelled really good.

  “Want another one, Priest?” Cal asked, gesturing toward Nick’s empty glass.

  Nick nodded, and Cal called over the waitress and ordered drinks for all of them. When she returned with the bourbon, she leaned toward Nick, putting her cleavage right in his face. She was young and pretty, and she had a nice rack, but it wasn’t nearly as mouthwatering as Teagan’s.

  “She was friendly,” Cal said, eyeing the waitress as she walked away, her ass swaying in an exaggerated motion. “And it’s obvious she’d like to get a lot friendlier with you, Priest.”

  Nick shrugged, taking another sip of Trinity. The bourbon had a palate-pleasing vanilla undertone, and he wondered if Beck was looking for any new investors.

  “Are you going to get friendly with her?” Cal asked.

  Five years ago, Nick definitely would have gotten friendly with the waitress, and he probably would have asked her to invite a girlfriend. But he was a one-woman man now, and that one woman was Teagan.

  Nick shook his head, and Cal’s eyebrows rose. Quinn cocked his head, his expression speculative.

  “Why not?” Quinn asked. “She’s hot.”

  The O’Brien brothers studied him as if he had been invaded by an alien being, and Nick abruptly decided to tell them why he wasn’t fucking every hot waitress who smiled at him. He took a deep breath and got ready for the shit to hit the proverbial fan.

  “Because your sister is the only person I w-w-w-want to get friendly w-w-w-with,” he answered, meeting their eyes unflinchingly.

  Neither Quinn nor Cal reacted to Nick’s statement for several heartbeats. Finally, Cal punched his older brother in the upper arm.

  “You lost. I want your sofa to be in my office no later than Monday at noon.”

  Nick looked back and forth between them, wondering what the hell they were talking about. Maybe they hadn’t heard him.

  Quinn groaned as he leaned his head against the leather cushion. “Priest, you fucking bastard,” he muttered, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. “You just made me lose the bet I made with Cal.”

  Cal laughed evilly, rubbing his hands together. “I can’t wait to roll around on your sofa. With my shoes on.”

  Quinn growled, and Cal chortled loudly.

  “W-w-w-what are you talking about?”

  “When you kissed Teagan on New Year’s Eve, I told Quinn you were interested in her, but he was insistent that you were drunk, and she was just convenient.”

  Nick snorted. Teagan was anything but convenient.

  “So we made a bet,” Cal continued. “The loser had to forfeit his most prized possession. If I lost, I had to give my Caddy to Quinn, and if he lost, he had to give his blue jean sofa to me.”

  Quinn raised his head, spearing Nick with his dark blue gaze. “I love that sofa like a mother loves her firstborn child.”

  Nick grimaced. Quinn wasn’t exaggerating about his attachment to the sofa. Admittedly, it was one-of-a-kind. It was upholstered with hundreds of Riley jean pockets in different shades of denim, from light blue to deep indigo.

  Of course, Cal wouldn’t have been any happier if he’d lost his Caddy, which he had inherited from his Grandma Violet. He loved the powder-blue vehicle and drove it everywhere, even though it made an eighteen-wheeler seem fuel efficient in comparison. He’d even named it.

  Cal took a sip of bourbon, his eyes steady on him over the rim of his glass. Nick met the younger man’s gaze, relieved to see curiosity rather than fury.

  “What’s going on between you and Teagan exactly?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Cal laughed dryly. “Since we’re talking about Teagan, I would expect nothing less.” He gestured to Nick with his glass. “Are you sleeping together?”

  Surprisingly, Cal’s voice was mild, almost uninterested. The tight muscles in Nick’s neck and upper back relaxed.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so,” Cal said, nodding.

  “How long has this been going on?” Quinn asked. “Were you sleeping with her in Boston?”

  Nick turned his attention to his best friend. Like Cal, Quinn seemed more curious than confrontational. They were taking the news of his relationship with Teagan much better than Nick had expected, and the relief he felt was overwhelming.

  “Only one time.”

  “One time?” Cal repeated doubtfully.

  Flushing, Nick looked down into his bourbon. “One night,” he clarified.

  “Was it a one-night stand?” Quinn asked.

  Nick didn’t know how to answer that question. Teagan had accused him of treating her like a one-night stand.

  He met Quinn’s gaze. “She thinks it w-w-w-was,” he admitted.

  Quinn frowned thoughtfully. “When she moved back home, she was so different. Sad, but angry, too. I thought it was because of Dad. What happened?”

  “I fucked up,” Nick answered simply, “but I w-w-w-want another chance.”

  “Priest, that was a long time ago.” Cal sighed. “Maybe it’s better to accept that things ar
e over. Just move on.”

  Nick studied Cal. The other man’s eyes were shadowed, and Nick knew Cal was thinking about Saika. Quinn had told him that Cal had been ready to propose when Saika’s ex-husband had come back into the picture.

  “Why are you so determined to get her back? Was the sex that good?” Quinn joked.

  “Quinn! You’re talking about our sister!” Cal slapped his older brother on the back of the head like they were two of the Three Stooges—or maybe not, since that would make Nick the third Stooge.

  “Sorry,” Quinn grimaced. “I forgot for a second.”

  “It w-w-w-wasn’t just sex,” Nick said quietly. “I’m in love w-w-w-with her.”

  His words stunned the O’Brien brothers so much their mouths fell open and their eyes bugged out. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he couldn’t help but laugh at their expressions. He decided to really shock them.

  “I w-w-w-want to marry her.”

  Cal sucked in a surprised breath as Quinn leaned forward in his club chair, his eyes fixed on Nick’s face. “Are you serious, Priest?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Holy shit!” Cal exclaimed, turning to look at Quinn. “Priest is going to be our brother-in-law. How fucking great is that?”

  Cal held out his fist to Quinn, and his older brother bumped it with his fist. The O’Brien brothers returned their attention to Nick, and he eyed them suspiciously.

  “I thought you w-w-w-would be angry. I thought you might b-b-b-beat the shit out of me.”

  Cal chuckled, his eyes sparkling with glee. “If you take on Teagan, you’re in for a lifetime of trouble, Priest. You don’t need us to add to it.”

  “Amen, brother,” Quinn said emphatically.

  Nick laughed. He would give anything—do anything—for a lifetime with Teagan.

  “I’m ready for a lifetime of t-t-t-trouble,” he assured them.

  “How does Teagan feel about you?” Quinn asked, cocking his dark head. “Frankly, she doesn’t seem to like you much. You know she tried to get out of working with you, right?”

  “She loved me . . . back then.”

  Nick swallowed to ease the pressure in his throat. It always made him sick to remember that she had told him she was in love with him, and he had rejected her. He had been so stupid.

  “And now?”

  He didn’t want to give voice to his deepest, darkest fear that Teagan no longer loved him. He was terrified he was never going to get her back. Terrified he would have to live the rest of his life without her.

  “Now she avoids me. I’ve tried to apologize, to explain, b-b-b-but she refuses to listen.”

  “Yeah, you don’t seem to be making much headway,” Quinn noted.

  Unfortunately, Quinn was right. In fact, Nick thought he might be losing ground with Teagan. Obviously, the house hunting had been a disaster, since it had ended with her in tears and him writhing on the ground in agony.

  When he had decided to get Teagan back, he had known it would be difficult, but he hadn’t had any idea just how difficult. Maybe he was arrogant or just plain stupid, but he had never imagined he would be in the exact same place now as he had been almost two years ago.

  “I don’t know w-w-w-what to do,” Nick admitted.

  “If your current plays aren’t working, you need to throw out the old playbook and create a new one,” Quinn said.

  Nick considered Quinn’s suggestion. Obviously Nick’s efforts to talk to Teagan had failed, and having sex seemed to make things worse. Maybe he should try a new strategy.

  “Any ideas?”

  Chapter 29

  “Are you sure you don’t have a single pair of shoes that match your bridesmaid’s dress?” Bebe asked skeptically.

  Teagan shot her best friend a warning glance. “I already told you I didn’t.”

  Bebe sighed and picked up a pair of shiny silver shoes with a kitten heel. She held them up for Teagan’s inspection.

  “What about these?”

  “No. My dress is darker, more pewter. Ava Grace’s maid of honor dress is closer to that color.”

  Bebe was in town for a huge biotech convention that would kick off Monday morning, and Teagan had suggested that Bebe fly in Friday night so they could enjoy the weekend together. The two of them were spending Saturday afternoon shopping for shoes in Union Square, and later tonight, Amelia and Ava Grace were going to drop by Teagan’s loft for a girls’ night.

  “What’s your dress like?”

  “It’s a Monique Lhuillier. It’s strapless and floor-length. It’s made out of chiffon, and the bodice is fashioned in a crisscross pattern. The waist is tight, and the skirt is floaty.”

  “It sounds pretty.”

  “It’s gorgeous. Amelia has good taste.”

  Bebe evaluated the shoes displayed on the table and picked up a pair of strappy silver stilettos that were less shiny than the kitten heels. She twirled them by the heel, her eyebrows raised in a silent question.

  “Maybe,” Teagan said.

  Bebe passed her the shoe, and Teagan inspected it. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stand for hours in these shoes without taking painkillers. The straps would probably rub her poor feet raw.

  She caught the eye of the sales associate roaming the floor and held up the shoe. The woman nodded and headed off to find Teagan’s size, and Teagan put the shoe back on the table.

  “What about these?” Bebe said from behind her.

  Teagan turned, and when she saw the shoe Bebe held, she gasped in delight. The textured, metallic leather gleamed under the recessed lighting, drawing attention to the sharply pointed toe. The pleated vamp had little crystals scattered on it, and a skinny strap fastened around the ankle.

  She grabbed the shoe from Bebe’s hand to study it, caressing the one-inch platform and four-inch heels with her forefinger. It was perfect.

  The sales associate had returned with the other shoes, and Teagan waved the metallic heel. Without a word, the woman passed Teagan the box she held and walked away.

  “I hate places like this,” Bebe said, rolling her eyes. “The women who work here are so snobby.”

  Teagan nodded. Most employees at really expensive boutiques were more haughty than helpful, and the woman assisting her today was ruder than usual.

  “I really want to ask, ‘Why are you so stuck up? Can you afford the shoes you sell?’”

  Teagan laughed and transferred the box to her other hand so she could hug Bebe to her side. She leaned her cheek against her best friend’s silky hair.

  “I’ve missed you, Beebs.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, kanya.”

  Bebe had recently returned from a three-week trip to India. Because of the time difference, they hadn’t been able to talk as frequently as they normally did. Teagan still wasn’t clear on why Bebe had gone to India or what she’d done while she was there. She had been evasive when Teagan had asked her about it. As far as Teagan knew, Bebe’s company had no offices in India, so she could only assume the trip had been personal.

  With her arm around Bebe’s shoulders, Teagan headed to one of the plush chaises scattered around the shop. The two of them took a seat, and Teagan put the box with the silver stilettos on the floor. She wanted to try on the metallic heels first, since she liked them so much better.

  “How are things going at work?” Teagan asked.

  “Good.”

  Although Teagan was happy Bebe had done so well at BioEdge, she secretly hoped that one day her best friend would take a job with a firm in the Bay Area. It would be so fabulous to see Bebe on a regular basis rather than every couple of months.

  Over the past three years, Bebe had quickly ascended the corporate ladder at BioEdge to head up the company’s investor relations group. She was a member of the executive team, and she regularly met with Wall Street
analysts and large, institutional investors.

  “What about you, kanya?”

  “Things are okay. We’re negotiating with some new suppliers for the materials for Amelia’s accessories, and that’s keeping us busy. Plus, we’re working with the real estate department on a bunch of new deals. And I’ve been traveling quite a bit.”

  Bebe shifted on the chaise so she could see Teagan’s face. After a moment, she sighed.

  “You’ve been traveling so you can avoid Nick.”

  Riley O’Brien & Co.’s vendors, suppliers, and partners were scattered across the world, but thanks to phone, email, and FedEx, ninety-nine percent of Teagan’s job could be done without any travel. Before she had been forced to work with Nick, she’d only traveled occasionally.

  “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again—if you had told Quinn about what happened with Nick, he never would have hired him. You could pick up the phone right now, call your brother, and tell him what Nick did, and Quinn would fire him.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Then why haven’t you told him?”

  “I don’t want to hurt my family. Quinn and Cal are so happy that Nick’s in San Francisco and working for Riley O’Brien. You should see them together. They’re like the Three Musketeers. And my mom and dad act like the prodigal son has returned.”

  Bebe snorted. “So you’re sacrificing yourself so your brothers can have a buddy to drink beer with, and your parents can have one more guest for Sunday dinner?”

  Bebe’s sarcastic tone made Teagan frown. She really didn’t want to hurt her family, but part of her reluctance to talk to Quinn was pride. She didn’t want anyone else to know how stupid she had been to sleep with Nick. Her lack of judgment embarrassed her.

  And there was another reason she had decided to avoid Nick rather than get rid of him: he was really good at his job.

  “How much longer do you think this particular avoidance tactic will work? I have a hard time juggling travel with my everyday workload. One day of travel puts me behind by two days. Do you know what I mean?”