Then there was the business dinner I attended with him. He had surprised me with the invitation and a dress he had Cami help him pick out. It was deep blue silk, and the simple cut suited me perfectly. His declaration that he needed me with him had touched my heart, and when I presented myself to him that night, the look on his face made me warm all over. His deep kiss spoke of promises of “later,” and he had more than lived up to them when we returned home.
As he looked at me, he frowned and reached out, running his finger over my ear. “Where are your earrings, Emmy?” He lifted my hands. “Your rings?”
“I thought it best I take them off for tonight,” I admitted. “I don’t want to embarrass you.”
He studied me for a minute, then unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. “I’ll wait.”
“For?”
He smiled, the tenderness on his face, and the gentle tone he used, touching me deeply.
“For you to put them back in. I want my Emmy with me—all of her. Nothing about you could now, or ever, embarrass me. Go finish getting ready, then we’ll leave.”
I did feel naked without them. Bending low, I kissed him with my own promise and hurried up the stairs to do as he asked.
Watching him in business mode was fascinating. Cool and in control, he worked the room, his posture stiff, his shoulders tense, never stopping long or being personal with anyone. He shook hands, discussed projects and bids, traded business cards, and never once left my side. At the table, he pulled my chair close and leaned over often to murmur something sweet or dirty into my ear, his voice and manner completely different to the one he used with everyone else. I saw the glances and felt the glares of a few women there, but I didn’t care. I was the one he wanted there beside him, and that was all that mattered.
He was all that mattered.
Breaking out of my memories, I glanced at the clock and sat up, stretching. Bentley groaned, opening his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to go. I’m meeting Cami to study.”
“Why didn’t you have her come here?”
I chuckled as I slid from the bed, escaping his attempts to stop me. “Because she’ll want to use the pool, watch a movie, and bake cookies in your ridiculously impressive kitchen. We’ll get nothing accomplished, and I want it done. I have a ton of other projects I have to do, as well. I’m meeting her at Al’s, and when we’re finished, I’m already at my place.”
He followed me to the bathroom and crowded me in the shower. “I don’t want you to go. I like it when you’re here.” He trailed his hand down my arm and clasped my fingers. “You could stay, Emmy.”
I gazed up at his serious face. He’d been dropping not so subtle hints the entire time I had been there. I had a passcode, a key, and he constantly referred to his house as our home. Still, it was too soon. My place wasn’t much, but it was mine, and I had control there. That was important.
“You’d be sick of me in a week,” I teased, trying to lighten the moment.
“I’ll never be sick of you.”
I stared at him, feeling the panic well in my chest. I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not yet. “Bentley . . .”
“It’s too soon?”
“Yes,” I breathed out. I hoped he wasn’t going to argue and push the subject.
“So, it’s not a no forever? Just for right now?”
“Just for right now.”
“When will you be back?”
“I have classes Monday and another project due Wednesday, so maybe Thursday?”
He pursed his lips, crestfallen. “I have to wait until Thursday to see you? That’s a long time.”
“You used to not see me ever, so I hardly think four days is an eternity.”
He pulled me close, his lips hovering over mine. “It’s going to feel like it.”
“I’ll stay for the weekend.”
His mouth was hard on mine. “Good.”
Cami grinned at me. “Which one is it?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “The muscle-bound one in the white T-Shirt. That’s Simon.”
She pursed her lips. “He looks about twenty.”
“The other guy, Joe, looks even younger, so they blend in with the crowd. According to Aiden, though, they’re lethal. Black belts, trained in all sorts of deadly force.” I sighed. “So excessive based on a blurry photo.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Aiden takes his job seriously.”
I quirked my eyebrow. “Know him pretty well, do you?”
She sighed, sipping her coffee. “Not as well as I’d like.”
“You looked pretty cozy on movie night.”
“I thought so. We had a great time.” She scoffed. “Of course, we had a great time at your birthday, bowling, and every other time we’ve been together.”
“And?”
“I don’t know. He’s amazing. Smart, funny, sexy as hell . . .” Her eyes softened, her expression dreamy. “Never mind how talented that mouth of his is. The man can kiss like there is no tomorrow.”
“But?” I prompted again.
She sighed. “But nothing. He shuts down. As soon as we get close, it’s as if a curtain falls, and he pulls away. He’s . . . hot and cold. It’s very frustrating.”
“You really like him?”
Her gaze skittered away. “More than I should.”
Cami always fell hard and fast. She put everything she had into relationships. All of them. Lovers, friends, groups at school. She only knew one way to be involved, which meant giving her entire heart and soul. I had watched her suffer many times because of it. I didn’t want to see her suffer again.
“Bentley told me relationships weren’t Aiden’s thing. He never said why, but I get the feeling something in his past scarred him. I think all three of them had difficult pasts.” I covered Cami’s hand. “I don’t want you hoping for something that might never happen.”
“What if I think he’s worth the risk?”
“Do you feel that strongly?”
She looked away, not speaking. It was something I admired about her. We teased and joked, but when there was a serious question or topic to discuss, she never rushed into an answer, but always gave it her full concentration. I sat back and waited, knowing not to push her, but I was already dreading the answer. I could sense her feelings.
“I think Aiden could be the person to change my life.”
My eyes widened. “Cami.”
“We fit. When he’s just Aiden, we mesh so well. He makes me laugh. I feel”—she tilted her head—“cherished. It’s as if I’m the only person in the world.”
“Until he shuts down.”
“He’s hiding something. I want to help him get over it. I think I can. I think I might be the one person who can help him. The way I catch him looking at me . . . I can’t explain it, Emmy. It’s a risk I have to take.”
“I don’t want you hurt.”
“I’m a big girl, and it’s my decision.”
“Have you–have you slept with him?”
“No. We’ve come close, but he always stops.” She sighed. “He says I’m not a one-night stand girl, and that’s all he is capable of.”
I frowned. “I think Aiden is capable of much more. The way he looks out for Bentley? It’s not only a job. He cares.”
“I think he cares deeply about a lot of things. He’s afraid to show it, though. The big man hides his true self behind a wall of muscle and humor.”
“He is big.”
She arched an eyebrow at me playfully, letting me know she was done with the serious talk. “I can vouch for that. I’ve felt how ‘big’ he is.”
I couldn’t help my giggle. “TMI, Cami. TMI.”
“I’m just saying. He is packing, and I’m certain he knows how to use it. His mouth and hands are dangerous. Add in his cock, I bet the man is lethal.”
We started giggling and making sarcastic, sexy remarks about men. It was us, laughing and joking together. Finally, she sighed and wiped her e
yes. “We need to study.”
I grasped her hand. “Can I do anything?”
“No. He adores you. He thinks you’re the best thing ever to happen to Bentley. Just be you and let Aiden and I work this out.” She paused and shrugged. “Or not.”
“I won’t keep inviting you over if it’s too much.”
“No, it’s fine. We’re both adults. Besides, we have a lot of fun on those nights. Everyone does.”
“What’s going on with Dee and Maddox?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, and she’s not answering.”
“I haven’t imagined the chemistry between them then?”
“God, no. She lights up like a lamp when he’s around. He seems very attentive.”
“They’re always talking.”
Cami arched an eyebrow. “That’s not all. I caught them in the kitchen when I went to grab something on movie night. Unless my sister needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation—that was another kind of in-depth conversation they were having.”
I chuckled. “She’s older than he is.”
Cami shrugged. “It’s a number.”
“Bentley says he is the most mature of them all. That he always has been. He’s also the most private and intense.”
She snorted. “There’s the pot calling the kettle black. Mr. Rigid himself.”
“I think he means he is old beyond his years.”
She pulled out her laptop. “Well, I like him, and I think he’s good for her. She smiles more.”
“I guess time will tell.”
She nodded. “For all of us.”
“Who knew all this would happen the day Bentley tripped over my rucksack and told me off?”
“I know. Your millionaire is pretty awesome.”
I scowled. “He’s more than a millionaire.”
“I know that. I was only teasing.”
“He’s so much more than his money.”
“He is with you.” She sighed. “The way he came to me and asked for a dress for you. He was so”—she waved her hand—“earnest and worried. He wanted you to feel pretty, but not overwhelmed. He wanted to make you happy.”
“He did. He does—all the time.” I glanced to the side. “Except for the escorts.”
“At least they aren’t obvious.”
“No,” I agreed. “They stay in the background. They make sure I’m okay, and nobody bothers me.” I sighed. “I just think it’s unnecessary.”
She shrugged, opening her laptop. “Once this blows over, you’ll go back to normal.”
I took her cue and grabbed my notes.
I wasn’t sure with Bentley there was such a thing as normal.
Bentley
We pulled up in front of the house, the entire drive silent. I was fuming, my mood dark, and the scotch I had slammed back souring in my stomach.
Aiden eyed me warily. “You want to talk about it?”
“No,” I snapped. “I don’t even want to fucking think about it right now.”
“Bent, it’s a deal that didn’t work. It’s not as though we can’t afford to absorb the loss.”
I threw open the car door. “Not the fucking point.”
“I know the project meant a lot to you, but we’ll regroup and figure out our next step. We’ll find the right spot for your vision.”
“That was the right fucking spot, and someone screwed me over.” I stepped out of the car. “I’m going to find out who it was, if it’s the last thing I do.”
He started to follow me, and I held up my hand. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to see anyone tonight.”
“Emmy’s here.”
“She’s different.” I was glad she was there. She would distract me. We could have dinner, and then I would spend the rest of the night inside her. That was always a good distraction. I’d think about the entire fucked up deal tomorrow. There had been too many lately.
“Try to rein in your bad mood. It might help.”
I flipped him the finger and left him at the car. I didn’t care where he went as long as it wasn’t with me.
In the elevator, I rubbed my eyes, and let my head fall back. I hadn’t felt that amount of rage in a long time. It bubbled and prickled at my skin, and I yanked on my tie, loosening it. I wanted to forget about the entire fucking day. I stepped off the elevator, focused solely on finding Emmy. I paid no attention to where I was going and found myself on my knees after tripping over something on the floor.
Cursing, I grabbed at my throbbing knees and glanced behind me. Emmy’s old rucksack sat on the floor as if she’d dropped it there in haste. My dark mood grew exponentially blacker. I hated that rucksack with a passion, and even more, I hated what it symbolized. She took it everywhere with her, and she always left it close to the elevator if she didn’t plan on staying—which meant she didn’t intend to be here long tonight.
I stood, brushing off my pants, and cursing again. There was a tear in the fabric of one knee. I had just bought the suit. I liked it, and now it was ruined, all because of that goddamn rucksack. Without thinking, my foot shot out, and I kicked the offending bag across the floor where it hit the table leg, causing a small piece of sculptured glass to scuttle over the edge, and smash on the wooden floor.
“Fuck!” I roared.
Emmy appeared around the corner, a knife in her hand. “What on earth—” Her words dried up when she saw me. “Bentley, what’s wrong?”
I stalked over and picked up the bag. “Do you have to fucking leave this by the elevator? I have closets, you know. You could act like a responsible adult and actually put it away. How many times do I have to trip over this piece of shit?”
She grimaced and took the bag from my fist. “I’m sorry. I was running late, and I dropped the bag when I came in with my arms full. I meant to put down the groceries and come back to get it. I wanted to have dinner ready for you.” She smiled tentatively. “I’m sorry you tripped.”
“Ruined my new suit.” I snarled, not ready to let it go.
She glanced down. “Oh, God, Rigid. I’m so sorry.”
“My name is Bentley. Not fucking Rigid! Knock it off with the nicknames. I hate them.”
She stepped back, studying me with a scowl. “You never mentioned that. I apologize. Maybe it would be best if I went back into the kitchen and finished dinner, to give you a chance to calm down a little. Maybe have a drink and a shower before we eat.”
Her calm demeanor only angered me further. I poked at the bag. “Why are you still carrying that crap? I got you a new one for your birthday!”
“I have it with me, as well. My hands were full when I arrived. I dropped the rucksack, and as I said, forgot to go get it. I apologize—again.”
“Why the hell do you need two? What is so fucking special about this one? Why do you always have it with you?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I’ll answer your questions when we can discuss it calmly.”
“I want to discuss it now.”
She shook her head. “Too bad. I’m making dinner, and you can go cool off somewhere. I don’t like your tone.”
“And I don’t like my suit being ruined because you’re too lazy to pick up after yourself!”
Her eyes narrowed at my ire. “Well, you’re in a mood.” She turned and walked away, leaving me fuming. I followed her into the kitchen.
“What is that smell?”
“I’m making tacos.”
I grimaced. “Tacos? I don’t want tacos. Why didn’t you let Andrew make dinner? It’s what I pay him for, and at least it would be something an adult would eat.”
She whirled around. “I think you need to leave the kitchen.”
“It’s my kitchen.”
“You’re acting like a child.”
I knew I was. I was acting like an asshole. The truth was, I liked it when she made tacos. In fact, I liked everything she made. Tonight, nothing was going to be right. Not even, it seemed, Emmy.
I stormed out of the kitche
n. “I need a fucking drink.”
I grabbed the decanter of scotch and poured a healthy shot. I downed it in one swallow, the liquor burning its way down my throat and into my chest. I refilled the glass and stomped upstairs to my room, pulling off my suit. I swallowed some more of the liquor and stepped into the shower. The sting of the water on my knee made me hiss and looking down I saw a gash from where I fell.
I was going to burn that piece of shit rucksack when I got hold of it.
I turned on all the jets and closed my eyes as the hot water poured over me. The steam billowed around me, and the heat worked its magic on my stiff muscles. Bracing myself on the wall, I huffed a deep sigh and let the water rain down. I had no idea how long I stood there, but finally, I lifted my head, no longer as tense as I had been.
I reached for my shampoo, and my fingers encountered the buff thing Emmy liked to use. I picked it up, studying it, remembering her reaction to the shower the first time she used it with me. Her excited giggles and the delight as the water poured all around us. The way she had added her body wash to the puff and scrubbed herself, then me. I thought of her joy and laughter, and the way I had taken her against the tile. A smile tugged at my lips at the memory.
My head fell back with a groan. What had I done? I had been a complete ass to her. My day was shitty from start to finish, and the one thing I had wanted was to be in her company. Instead of brushing off the stupid rucksack incident, I had attacked her over it and picked a fight with her so my shitty day could get even shittier.
What a fucking moron.
My only consolation was she refused to rise to the bait. Still, I owed her an apology. A big one. Quickly, I finished up, stepped out of the shower and dried off. I swallowed the rest of the scotch, pulled on the silly lounge pants and shirt she had given me, and hurried back toward the main floor.
As I went through the living area, I noticed the broken glass was gone, and Emmy’s messenger bag was tucked by the sideboard. The rucksack wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
I sighed in relief, knowing she was still there. I had fully expected to find her gone after my behavior. I would have gone after her because I didn’t want the incident to fester for either of us. She wasn’t in the kitchen though, and the tacos she had been making for dinner were obviously off the menu, since the kitchen was spotless, and the food I had seen earlier, put away.
Vested Interest Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 14