A moment later the front door swung open wide and her brother strode in, a cavalier grin on his face and Clint on his heels.
Payton’s back straightened, her jaw setting hard.
“Hey, Payton,” Brandt offered with a jut of his chin by way of greeting as he crossed to take her in quick hug. “Hope you don’t mind, I’ve brought Clint along for dinner.”
She raised a cool brow at her brother as betrayal shot hot through her veins. “I see.” She did mind. Very much, in fact, but when had anything as trivial as her opinion ever stopped her brother before?
Clint crossed to her and dropped a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Don’t blame Brandt. I asked him to arrange this. Things didn’t go the way I’d intended the last time we spoke—” He broke off, letting out a strained breath before turning back to her. “And my behavior was unacceptable. But I’m asking you for a chance to talk. Privately.”
She looked from Clint to Brandt and then to her mother, who was descending the wide staircase. “I’m here to have dinner with my family.”
“Nonsense,” her mother interjected, urging her to understand with her eyes. “There’s time enough for everyone. Brandt’s taking me over to the store to pick up something to go with the lamb. It’ll give you two a chance to talk and then we’ll have dinner after we get back.”
Brandt crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t be difficult about this, Payton. I think it’s the least you can do considering the way these last weeks have played out. In fact, I’d say you owe it to Clint here.”
Payton swallowed, looking past her overbearing brother to the door she wished she’d never ventured through this evening. Releasing a short breath, she nodded, taking a step back from Clint even as she agreed to speak with him. She didn’t want any misread signals. Any misunderstandings. But she did feel bad about the way she’d handled the Nate situation with him.
Clint acknowledged with a pained twist of his lips and a resigned nod. Extending one arm toward the living room, he gave her the space to pass. Then turned to Brandt and her mother. “I appreciate this.”
Payton crossed the ancient oriental and perched at the edge of a wingback chair, ankles crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap. Clint followed her into the room and, catching sight of her there, paused, a small smile touching his lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, but—”
He held up a hand and walked over to the chair opposite her. “Merely stating the facts.” Then after a pause, “How did we get here, Payton? So far from where we’re supposed to be.” He looked up at her. “I’ve given you time, but this business with Nate Evans has gone too far.”
Payton shook her head. “What’s happening with Nate is none of your business—”
“Fine.” He leaned forward. “Forget him. He’s not important anyway. Not for our future. All I care about is us. You and me. Going forward. I know after your father passed away you had a tough time. You needed…space…to adjust. And I gave it to you.”
They’d broken up. She’d told him it was over. Not that she needed space. But Clint wouldn’t see it that way. He’d chalked her behavior up to a reaction to her father’s death. And maybe it had been, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d made the right choice in leaving him.
“I don’t love you, Clint.”
He shook his head, not willing to hear. Or maybe not caring. “We were good together. Right.”
She felt the familiar stab of frustration, bit back the hot denial that rushed to her lips, knowing it would be dismissed as irrational. Pulling her composure around her, she met his stare. “No. We were never that good or that right together. Only you couldn’t see it and I didn’t want to admit it. But I knew. Even before Daddy… A part of me wouldn’t let us go forward, wouldn’t talk about marriage when you brought it up… I wanted to be happy about what we had. I wanted to see what everyone else saw. How perfect we were together. But I wasn’t being honest with myself or you. I’m so sorry, Clint.”
“You realize what you’re giving up here?”
She nodded. A life where she felt trapped by a man who, though decent enough, didn’t really care to know her.
“I do.”
Knock, knock knock, knock… “Payton, open up.”
Brandt. He must have hopped in his car the minute he got back to the house and discovered she’d left.
The last thing she wanted was to continue this little intervention here at home. She’d do about anything to dodge her big brother coming down on her with all his disappointment and bullying. Maybe if she didn’t answer he’d just go.
“Don’t bother hiding. I know you’re in there.” Of course he did. Her car was parked outside and she was the sole occupant of the third floor, with every light in the apartment shining down on the street below.
Returning the paperback she’d just picked up to the To Be Read pile beside her couch, she pushed to her feet and walked to the door in time to hear the lock tumble as Brandt made use of the keys she sorely regretted giving him.
“Unless you’ve got a bolt cutter in there, just give me a second.” She slipped the chain and stepped back, arms crossed, ready to face him down. “You can’t let yourself in here any time you want.”
Brandt swung the door open and met her determined stare, raising it with a measure of disappointment only their mother could rival. “You’ve done it now. Clint’s through.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt him, Brandt. But I’m glad he finally believes me.”
“You’re throwing away your future for some…fling. You know that’s what it is, right? Mr. Bachelor of the year…bad-boy billionaire Nate Evans. Are you stupid? You know how he gets those names, right? By pricking around.”
“Shut up, Brandt. You don’t know what’s between Nate and I—”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to know, except that, with Dad gone, I’m the one looking out for you.”
She let out a harsh breath. “I don’t need anyone looking out for me. Especially someone who can’t understand the choices I’m making in my life.”
She mumbled under her breath, walking away.
“Did you just call me a ‘stupid jerk’?”
She had. Heat splashed her cheeks, but, unwilling to back down, she spun on him. “If the shoe fits…”
Only then the absurdity of her muttered insult hit them both. The tension and starch seemed to slip from her brother’s shoulders and he leaned back into the wall behind him. Pressing the heels of his palms into his brows, he let out a heavy breath. “I know how you feel, Payton. About Dad. About trying to be perfect for so long. It wears on you and all that pressure makes you resentful. Only you know you can’t get angry at him. The weak heart wasn’t something he could help. So you keep trying to do the right thing. Take care of him. Be good. Try harder… Except, after all that effort, he goes and dies anyway. It was a raw deal. I know that.”
Tears bit at the backs of her eyes as her bully-big-brother voiced what her heart had been sobbing for a year. “It’s like everything I did, all the right choices I made were for nothing.”
“So now you want to be bad for a while? Is that what this is with Nate? With the apartment? Clint? Every major decision you’ve made in the last year has been the sort of thing Dad would have hated. Are you trying to get even with him? Show him what happens when he doesn’t hold up his end of the bargain and live?”
Her throat was so dry, she didn’t think she could speak. She shook her head, blinking away the welling tears. “No. It’s about being true to myself. Living my own life. Mine. Not his. The job I want. The apartment I can afford.” The man I love.
Brandt scanned her apartment, as though doubting her word. Then pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. “You know, on the way over to Mom’s, Clint and I were talking about when you two started dating. Apparently he’d asked you what you wanted out of a relationship.”
Her breath pulled in with a slow ache. She knew where this was going.
&n
bsp; “You said, ‘Family and security, trust and partnership.’ I think he figured out he wanted to marry you that night.”
She’d known it, too. Looked at Clint and thought he was exactly the right sort of man to make a life with. And yet every time he’d brought up marriage, she’d shied away.
As if following her thoughts, Brandt offered, “Even if Clint wasn’t the one. You gave him an honest answer, didn’t you? You still want those things?”
When she didn’t answer, Brandt’s scowl deepened and the understanding man who might have been her friend a moment ago transformed back into the brother frustrated with the mess his little sister was making of her life. “What does Nate Evans think about those wants? I’m assuming he knows. Or did this ‘honest life’ you’re so keen on living not include being honest with him?”
“It’s not like that with Nate. Neither one of us is interested in marriage or forever right now.”
Brandt let out a short laugh. “Right. Who are you lying to now, Payton?”
Her mouth burst open in denial, but already he’d gone on. “Have you been honest with that guy for one minute since you started whatever the hell it is you’re doing together? Does he have any idea how long you’ve been pining for him? I’d be willing to bet a sizable chunk of Liss shares that he doesn’t. Just like I’d bet he doesn’t know how showing up in the papers has affected your work environment—the flak you take for it.”
“Things have been better at work lately—”
“I’m glad to hear it, but come on, Payton, the last time we talked about this you were hell-bent on getting out of the media spotlight. Swearing up and down that wedding you and Evans were caught at would be the last high-profile event. You were desperate. And yet, I think I’ve seen your name or face in the news more times over the last month than I have in the last year.”
“It’s different now.”
“Why?” he challenged. “Because you’re in love?”
“Things are good with Nate. We both knew what we were getting into with this relationship and we’re both fine with it.”
He took a deep breath and shoved off the wall. Stopping at the door, he turned to her. “Payton, if you have to lie to me, that’s one thing. You want to lie to Nate Evans?” He touched the single bump at the bridge of his nose. “Be my guest. Just do me a favor and don’t lie to yourself.”
The door swung closed with a thud. The lock tumbled and then even the muffled fall of his steps left her. Alone, she faced the uneasy revelation that perhaps Brandt had seen her more clearly than she’d ever given him credit for.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SOMETHING was wrong with Payton.
Nate stood by the exit watching the dinner crowd. The up-scale Mexican restaurant was one of his favorites and Payton had mentioned it as one of hers as well, but tonight she’d barely had a bite of her food and her glass of wine sat all but untouched on the table.
He’d gone to her place straight from O’Hare, ready to pick up where they’d left off almost a week before. The trip had been a success and he was in the mood for a celebration. But even before they’d made it to the car he’d sensed something off. They’d talked easily enough, laughed and caught up, but every few minutes her attention would drift, leaving him to wonder where she’d gone.
By the time he closed out the bill his frustration had met its limit and he was ready for answers.
Hitting the sidewalk, Payton looked back at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. I just—” Breaking off with a shake of her head, she stared down the street.
A quiet alarm began to sound in the back of his mind. Obviously something happened while he’d been gone, and whatever it was had her anxious and refusing to meet his eyes. He didn’t want to think it, but if he didn’t know her better he’d say her behavior smacked of guilt. “What’s going on?”
Hugging her arms around her waist, she shivered. “Can we walk a minute?”
He tucked her under his arm, guiding her around the Friday-night pedestrian traffic. As he slowed his stride to match hers his mind ran through the little he knew. She’d been fine when he spoke to her the other night. Laughing and easy. No halting exchanges or strained silence. But that had been three days ago and he hadn’t spoken to her since. He should have called again, checked in, but he’d gotten busy, caught up in the workings of a new deal— And he’d wanted the space. The distance.
But just for the few days. Now that he was back he wanted Payton laughing and sexy and giving him everything that threatened to be too much. And she wasn’t.
Halfway down the block she turned to him. “I’m being stupid. It’s nerves is all—I don’t want—” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “The other night I was supposed to have dinner with my family, only we didn’t actually make it that far. Brandt decided to bring Clint with him—”
Clint. Tension wrapped tight around his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The guy who’d wanted to marry her. The guy who’d grabbed her in the middle of a charity reception.
“So you left?” he prompted, knowing she hadn’t.
“No. My mother and Brandt left, so Clint and I could talk.”
“They left you alone with him.” Heat crawled up his throat and face as he let loose a violent curse. Immediately he was pushing up her sleeves, trying to see the skin on her arms through the wash of red nearly blinding him. “If he hurt you—” If that was the reason, what she was afraid to tell him—
“No, he didn’t touch me. Nate, please.” She caught his hand in hers. “I’m fine.”
“You are not fine,” he growled, barely managing to contain himself from bellowing. “You’re worrying over something, refusing to look me in the eye. And I can’t tell if it’s because you’ve done something you think is going to hurt me or because someone else has done something and you think I’m going to hurt them. So tell me what happened.”
Her chin jerked back in surprise, but quickly she answered. “I was upset, but Clint obviously needed some closure, which I believe he finally got. And when we were through talking, I didn’t want to wait around for Mom and Brandt to start in on me again. So I left. Only Brandt followed me home.”
“What the hell is that guy’s problem?” he roared in frustration, glaring at the sky.
Silence answered, drew out for a moment, and then, “He thinks I’m not being honest about what’s going on between us. About what being with you means to me.” She took a steadying breath before meeting his eyes again. “And…maybe he’s right.”
With that the red haze receded, leaving him with an understanding of what was behind Payton’s distress. No one had hurt her. At least not yet.
“Because you want…more.” Marriage. A family. More than a good time for as long as it held up.
“I do.”
He should have seen it coming. Hell, he’d known from the start what her priorities were, that long term they didn’t mesh with his. Damn it, he didn’t want this now. He just wanted Payton back in his arms after days apart. He wanted her laughing and giving him her smart mouth and her soft body. He wanted the good time. The easy ride.
But the easy ride was over.
She was quiet beside him, her head pressed into her palms. Smoothing a hand down her curls, he pulled her into his chest. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting those things, Payton.” He looked up at the black night, took a breath of the bracing air and forced himself to say the rest. “So long as you aren’t waiting to find them with me.”
It was only the barest of movements. No more than the slightest stiffening of her body. But he felt it. He closed his eyes, knowing what he had to say next.
Clearing his throat, he took a step back.
Those brown eyes stared up at him, waiting. Wounded. She knew what was coming. Knew they’d agreed to stop before things got serious. Stupid. As if it hadn’t been serious with Payton from the start.
Her lips parted and she whispered a single word. “Don’t.”
He didn’t want to do this.
“Do you think maybe it’s time to stop?” he asked, taking her hand in his. She was shaking her head no, but it hadn’t really been a question. He caught her cheek in his hand, slid his fingers into that wild hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Too late.
“Then don’t.” Her hands covered his chest as though it would be enough to keep him there. Hell. She didn’t understand that the organ beneath her hands didn’t work the way she needed it to.
“Payton—”
“Aren’t you having fun?” Her big brown eyes turned to liquid pools, that kissable bottom lip of hers beginning to tremble. “Hasn’t it been good?”
“You know I am. That it has.” Damn it, he didn’t want to see her cry—didn’t want to be the reason for her tears.
“Because, I’m having fun with you. Like I’ve never had before.” Her words coupled with the glitter of wet tears on her lashes would have been laughable, except for the pain behind them. Cutting through him, she wiped at her eye with the back of a wrist. “All I need is the chance that maybe—”
“I care about you. More than I’ve cared about anyone else.” Only that didn’t change the fact that love didn’t happen for him. He’d told her about his mother, but what he should have spelled out was he was just like her. His inability to connect completely in the romantic arena was more than a habit born from defense or disgust at being the center of media speculation. More than a convenience too comfortable to investigate, though, in all honesty, it had been that, too. Why bother trying to overcome something that worked just fine for him? He hadn’t cared until now.
“Isn’t that something? Isn’t it enough to wait and see? Yes, I want marriage…someday. But I’ve been so careful about everything for so long, I’m willing to take a risk for you. I would wait.”
He knew she would. If he gave her any hope at all, she’d spend years waiting for something that, in all likelihood, he would never be able to give her. She might be willing to take that risk, but he wasn’t. Not with her heart. Her life. Her happiness.
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