by Nia Arthurs
Who gives a damn?
It’s the truth.
I’ve already broken the rules. I’ve already crossed uncrossable lines. I’m consumed by the woman who’s trying to set me up with my future wife.
Backtracking from that is near impossible.
In a fit of frustration, I push away from the desk. Head outside.
The office is bustling.
I nod at my employees and follow the soft drip, drip, drip of the expresso machine.
A country song rings from a cubicle. Something twangy. Lots of electrical guitar. Lots of lyrics about heartbreak and payback. Sounds like a revenge song. The kind of song Tierra would like.
Damn.
I’m too obsessed. I need to get a hold of myself. Now.
Before I’m heading to her office with a stupid excuse just to see her.
Before I’m pressing her up against a wall and commanding her to undress. Slowly.
I’m not going back on my word. No touching. No fooling around. Not until the thirty days are over or until I combust from needing her.
Hansley is in the kitchen when I turn the corner.
He glances up from the coffee machine. That I just got laid and it was the best night of my life look on his face.
Whatever the male version of a ‘thot’ is, Hansley’s it. He’s always got a woman jumping in and out of his bed.
Usually, a string of them are on call. With a few exceptions.
His mother. His sister.
Shar.
Hansley’s relationship with my little sister always confused me. They were constantly flirting but, as far as I know, Shar wasn’t into him like that. I think it was a little more serious on Hansley’s end but then, I never know with that guy.
“You’re late.” He toasts me with his coffee mug.
I shake my head. “Second cup.”
“Makes sense. You’re wearing that I hate everyone scowl.”
“Not everyone. Just you.”
“Are you here for coffee or just to talk crap?”
“Coffee,” I say. “The second one is your job.”
“Screw it, Brett. You’re hopeless. Caffeine won’t help you.”
“You better pray it does or I’m throwing out your precious espresso machine.”
“You’d be flying out next to it.” Hansley toasts me with his cup.
I laugh—that’s a serious threat. Hansley adores that coffee machine like it’s his wife. It’s right up there with his sister and mother.
The laughter dies. Tension returns to my body. Tierra’s email bounces around in my head. I made your first match. “Got enough love in your heart to make another cup?” I nod to the espresso machine.
“Sure. I’m always happy to help the elderly.”
I scowl at him.
He laughs.
I’m four years older than Hansley, though most wouldn’t be able to tell from looking at us. He’s always joking about me breaking my back one of these days and I always rib him about his inability to keep up with a man in his thirties.
“You free tonight?” He hands me a cup. “My friend’s opening his new club. It’s super exclusive.”
I shake my head. “Can’t.”
“Is it Shar?” He gets serious, “Look, if you need company, we can hang—”
“I’ve got a date.”
His eyebrows shoot high. “Already?”
I nod.
He whistles. “That matchmaker doesn’t wait around.”
“Maybe she thinks I’ll be picky.”
“Or maybe she’s trying to marry you off before you change your mind.”
I glare at him.
Hansley shrugs. “It’s possible.”
“I’m meeting her at the restaurant so I need to be out of the office by seven.”
“I’ll cover for you.” Hansley leans back. “So what does she look like?”
“Tierra?”
“No.” He rolls his eyes. “Your date.”
“I don’t know.”
Hansley chokes. “You don’t?”
I shrug.
“Isn’t that something you should find out?”
“No. The matchmaking company wants clients to focus on personality and—“ I straighten. Set the mug down. “You know what? I should ask them about that.”
Hansley smirks over his coffee cup. “Any excuse to see Tierra, right?”
“Shut up.”
“You’re so damn transparent, Brett.”
“You’re fired,” I say, backing out of the kitchen.
“You can’t fire me. I own equal shares.”
I turn completely around so I can run to my office without plowing over any of my employees. Grabbing my jacket and keys from the desk, I head down the hallway.
Screw it.
I need to see Tierra today and this stupid question is as good as any.
Hansley is leaning against his door when I pass by.
Brown eyes brim with amusement. He sips his coffee. “You can send an email.”
“She might not see it.”
“How pissed do you think she’ll be when you show up?”
“Enough.”
“And…”
“She needs me. Professionally.” And in other ways too. Not that she’ll admit it.
“And you’re planning to use that?” He swirls his coffee around in the mug. Inhales it.
“I’ve got a date tonight.”
“With someone else.”
“Never said I wouldn’t go.”
“You’re playing with fire, Brett.”
Damn. It’s more than that.
This is a blazing inferno.
But I’m willing to let everything burn.
Fifteen
Tierra
I usually listen to country music while I work. It helps to keep me motivated and on task. I’m blasting Carrie Underwood and bobbing my head to the rhythm when a shadow falls on my desk.
I glance up.
Meet a pair of steely, silver eyes.
Brett.
I hurl my earphones out of my ears. Jump to my feet.
The chair skitters back, slamming against the wall.
He presses one big hand on my desk. Smirks. “Before He Cheats?”
“It’s a classic.”
“It’s Monday.”
“So?”
“Strange music choice.” He sits on the edge of my desk.
And suddenly, this isn’t my office.
It’s his.
He’s taken over without saying a word.
My heart thunders in my chest. “What are you doing here?”
He lifts his chin.
Sunlight hits the sharp jawline carved from stone.
The stubble on his cheeks.
The tip of his nose.
“I’m here to file a complaint.”
My jaw drops.
Brett meets my gaze. “About that date tonight.”
“Brett…” My mouth opens. Falls shut.
It’s been two days since I’d last seen him. Over those days, I managed to convince myself that my feelings were all in my head.
That I definitely wasn’t going to fall into this trap again.
That he wasn’t as hot as my first impression made it out to be.
I was wrong.
On all counts, but especially the last one.
Brett is even more handsome now than he was that day at the funeral.
A soft maroon blazer pops against his white button-up. Long slacks, tailored perfectly to his strong legs, point to expensive leather shoes.
He’s dressed like some kind of model.
Like someone who could snap his fingers and have any girl he wants.
Not you though.
No. Not me.
I lift my chin. “We had a deal. Are you changing your mind?”
“Of course not.” He straightens. Unbuttons his jacket in a sexy, confident move. “I don’t go back on my word.”
“Then?”
“I want a picture.”
“Of?” I ask.
“The girl.”
I narrow my eyes. “No.”
“No?” He arches an eyebrow.
“We have that rule so clients don’t make any assumptions based on appearance.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Give Bree a chance.”
“Bree?” He tilts his head.
I pull my lips in to hide my smile. “Brett, don’t tell me you didn’t read the attachment I sent.”
“Come here.” He beckons with a finger.
I stay behind my desk. Dig my hands into the underside of the table. “Why?”
His silver eyes remain trained on me.
So commanding.
So… intense.
I know I shouldn’t leave the safety of this desk.
I shouldn’t cross the distance between us.
Shouldn’t get any closer to this man who can unravel me with a single look.
But my common sense gets drowned out by another voice. One that tempts me to inch as close as I can to the line without falling over it.
Shuffling hesitantly, I try to reach under my desk and slip my shoes on without looking.
“Leave them off,” Brett says firmly.
My heart jumps.
“Leave them off,” he adds. “Because if I see you in those heels…”
I swallow hard.
Move around the desk in my bare feet.
There’s something so… intimate about it.
I’m at work.
Dressed in a long, professional blouse.
Loose slacks.
Lip gloss on my lips.
Hair out and voluminous.
Every other part of me screams I’m a professional.
But my toes are pressing against the cold floor.
The pads of my feet lift off and slant down.
It’s a small line.
It’s a baby line.
And I’m crossing it.
Nerves. Fear. Desire. They all bunch in my stomach.
Tighten into a complicated knot.
I take a seat the farthest distance from Brett.
He says nothing, just watches me for a long moment while I squirm.
While I remind myself of who he is.
And who I am.
And why I need to be very, very careful.
Suddenly, he slides across the couch.
Sits close to me.
Close enough that our thighs are touching.
He reaches out and takes my hand. In a low voice, he asks, “Any more pain?”
“No.”
“Swelling?”
I shake my head. Blink fast. Try to steady my breath.
His big hands cup mine. Fingers lightly brush my knuckles. Drops into my palm.
It’s a simple caress.
But Brett’s imposing nature makes it feel the farthest thing from innocent.
Still, I don’t pull my hand away.
Like a fool.
“Did you wrap it up?” he asks.
“I keep falling asleep before I can.”
His hold on me tightens. His eyes glow like a wolf’s. “Do it every night. If not, I’ll come over and put the medicine on myself.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A promise.” His hold gets lax. “Take care of yourself.”
I slip my hand from his. Walk away. Try to act tough. “Whether I do or don’t is none of your business.”
His eyes follow me around the room.
I can’t catch my breath.
Damn.
What is he doing to me?
A safe distance from him, I turn around and ask, “Why did you agree to do this? What made you change your mind?”
“You did.”
My eyelashes flutter together.
“I want you, Tierra.”
I choke. “What?”
“But,” he leans back, “I’ll allow you to try and change my mind.”
“You had your opportunity to have me, Brett,” I hiss.
“No.” He stands. Crosses the room. Eases next to me. “No, I had an opportunity to kiss you.” He inches closer. “To touch you.” His fingers drift under my shirt, making the fabric dance gently. “To see what you have on under those clothes. To part your thighs and…”
“Screw me.” My chest heaves violently. “I told you to screw me.” I inch back. “You walked out.”
He follows me. "Because I wouldn't have you, even then. Not all of you. Not everything. And I want everything, Tierra.”
“You-you shouldn’t be saying that.”
“Maybe not.” His eyes drop to my lips.
My hands lift to push him back. My palms end up falling on him and lingering instead. I drop my voice to a terrified whisper, “You know what I’ll lose if I give in to you.” Searching his gaze for understanding, for acceptance, for… something, I beg. “Please…”
His jaw muscles clenching, he steps back. “This girl, what about her made you think she’d be perfect for me?”
“She’s beautiful and—”
“More than that, T.”
I glance down. Lick my lips. Slip into my matchmaker skin. “She matched your core values and worldview. You guys sync up perfectly—what you believe, your work ethic, your ambition.”
“I don’t remember having any discussions like that with you.”
“Sharon told us.”
He flinches.
I know his sister’s death is still a raw wound and I soften my voice. “She filled in the questionnaire. Recorded herself doing the interview. She sent in all your peripherals.” I swipe my tongue across my bottom lip nervously. “She probably knew you wouldn’t have the time or interest to do it yourself.”
“Cancel the date tonight.”
My chin whips up. “Brett…”
“Meet me at my office instead. I’ll do my own interview and answer my own questions.”
“But I already told your date that—”
“I’ll send a car. When do you get off work?”
“Brett!” Frustration bubbles in me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Making sure you have the best chance at succeeding.” He cocks his head to the side you can’t do anything about it.
My nostrils flare. "I spent all weekend setting this up.”
“Send the bill to my company. I’ll pay you for all the extra hours.” He strides to the door.
“Brett!” I hiss.
He keeps walking.
“Brett!”
He opens the door. Steps out.
Closes it firmly.
I grab the nearest item—a paper-clip from my desk—and toss it at the door.
Just then, Venus steps in.
She yelps when the clip collides with her dark cheek.
My eyes widen. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She rubs her skin. “I’m guessing the meeting with Brett McQueen didn’t go well.”
I scowl at her.
Venus drops her hands and grins mischievously. “I'm engaged and happily in love so I can’t say everything that’s on my mind, but girl… some woman is gonna get lucky!”
Kayla shakes her head as she enters the room. “That’s Venus being mellow.”
“To be honest, I don’t understand a word coming out of her mouth most of the time.”
“Teach me your ways,” Kayla jokes.
I nod at her. “You feeling better?”
“Much. I’ve been working hard lately. I think I’m just exhausted.”
Venus smirks. “Brendon put her on bed rest so she’s only working half-days now.”
"I heard Brett was here,” Kayla says. “He seemed… determined. Is everything okay?”
“It’s… perfect.” I give her a weak smile.
The truth is just the opposite.
Brett McQueen is determined.
Determined to be the biggest challenge of my life, but I’m not a quitter.
I’m going to match him with the love of his life if it kills
me.
And, knowing him, it just might.
Sixteen
Brett
An emergency meeting pulls me away minutes before Tierra arrives.
I text her to let her know what’s going on.
BRETT: Sorry. Something came up. Rain check?
TIERRA: I’ll wait.
BRETT: Use my office. This might take a while.
It turns into a two-hour damage control session.
After, Hansley and I stumble out of the office like zombies.
“We’re never jumping into the food franchise business again.” He winces. “Who’s idea was this anyway?”
“Shar’s.”
“Right.” Hansley yawns. “The owner had that sob story…”
“They all have a sob story,” I grumble.
Check the time on my watch.
Curse.
Hansley gestures to the exits. “Drinks?”
“Not tonight.”
“Oh, right. It’s your hot date with your soulmate.”
I slant him a dark look. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He salutes his goodbye.
I jog down the hallway. My strides lengthen as I get closer to my office.
Thankfully, we’d had our meeting in the conference room so it doesn’t take me too long to get to Tierra.
Opening the door, I step in.
It’s quiet.
Dark.
Blue shadows splay on the wall courtesy of my aquarium.
Colorful fish swim in the depths. A lamp casts golden light on my desk.
My lips quirk up when I notice Tierra sitting in my chair, her arms folded on the table and her head resting on top of them.
Thick eyelashes flutter closed.
Her chest rises and falls.
Steady breaths.
Deep inhales.
Something shifts in my heart.
Rubble skittering aside to make room for this.
For her.
Golden light bounces off her dark hair.
Her warm brown skin.
Her sweet lips.
I inch closer.
Notice the way she’s slightly shivering.
I like things cold, so I keep my air conditioning on and blasting.
Quickly, I shrug out of my jacket. Gently lay it over her shoulders.
Though I move as quietly as I can, Tierra stirs.
Glances up.
Meets my eyes.
Hers are hazy with sleep.
A vision of waking up to that sweet face every morning assaults me.