by Addison Cole
“You’re so cynical. That could have been you walking out with him, Bree.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been off the dating train for quite some time.” When it came to men, Brianna was a master at turning off her emotions. She’d been doing it for six years, and she planned on doing it for another twelve.
“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to be a witch about it. You could have smiled, waved. I don’t even get why you’re on an eighteen-year celibacy plan anyway. That makes no sense to me.”
“Excuse me. Can I get a drink?” a tall guy hollered from the bar.
“Sure, darlin’. Just a sec.” Kat brushed Brianna’s hair from her shoulder. “You take him. Patrick Dempsey left a great tip. I’ll share it with you.”
“You don’t need to do that.” She smiled at Kat. When Brianna came back home after graduating from the Rhode Island School of Design, where she’d focused on photography, she hadn’t known she was pregnant. She’d put the pieces together two months later, after failing to find a job and writing off her nausea and missed periods to stress. Her mother was not exactly thrilled that she’d gotten knocked up at a graduation party by Todd, a guy she’d dated only a few times, and Brianna had to admit that she wasn’t thrilled either. But the minute her doctor had told her she was pregnant, her hand instinctively went to her belly, and there was no question in her mind about what she was going to do. Layla had become a part of her at that moment, and even though she and her mother had a falling out shortly thereafter and she’d stopped looking for a job in the arts and took the bartending job so she could make the rent payments on her new apartment, she’d never regretted her decision. Not when Layla was a colicky infant and stayed up for hours on end and not when she was two years old and colored with crayon all over the walls.
She looked at Kat and sighed. During those early months of Brianna’s pregnancy, when Brianna’s mother had been less than supportive, Kat had always been there. She’d supported Brianna’s desire to keep her baby, held her hair back while Brianna had bouts of nausea, and she’d never once judged her for getting pregnant. Kat had been the sister Brianna always wished she’d had.
“I’m not dating because Layla needs a stable mother, not a mom who’s caught up in the drama of worrying about a man. I brought her into this life, and she’s the best kid in the world. I don’t want to mess her up. It’s the least I can do.”
Kat hugged her. “I wish you’d have been my mom. Now go help the hunky dunk over there. Yummy.”
Brianna didn’t mind Thursday nights. With the noise of the game and the cheering of the drunken fans, the hours moved fast. Another twenty minutes and I’m out of here. Brianna bent over a barstool as she wiped it down.
“This seems to be the only free seat. Do you mind if I take it?”
She froze at the sound of that rich, delicious voice. Get a grip. She lifted her gaze to see that the handsome man who had left with Red was back and she was staring at his broad, muscular chest. She swallowed hard. At five foot five, Brianna was not a short woman, but next to this guy, who was almost a foot taller than her, she felt petite and feminine…and like her heart was on speed.
“Sure. Sorry,” she managed.
“Thank you.” He took off his jacket and folded it over his arm, his gaze never wavering from hers.
His eyes weren’t just brown; they were a warm shade of cocoa. She also noticed that his five-o’clock shadow wasn’t all black after all; it had a little lighter shade of brown sprinkled in. Oh, how she’d love to photograph him in black-and-white. Profile shot, maybe. He smiled, revealing the cutest dimples she’d ever seen. Patrick Dempsey. Definitely Patrick Dempsey. Only hotter. Sexier. Stronger. For heaven’s sake, shut up! Brianna realized she was staring, and a flush heated her cheeks. She spun on her heel and returned to the safety of the opposite side of the bar, racing heart and all.
She eyed Kat fixing drinks and flirting with a group of guys at the other end of the bar, wishing she were beside her. Kat could tease her out of her momentary lustfulness—or she’d give her a hard time for not acting on it. Brianna took a deep breath and focused on wiping down the counter.
“What’ll it be?” Don’t look at him. She felt like she was standing in front of the real Patrick Dempsey and if she looked again she’d be awestruck, she’d go mute, and embarrassed beyond recovery. That was the stupidest thing in the world, and she knew it. She forced herself to lift her eyes and clenched her jaw to keep from making an idiot of herself.
He smiled again and—Oh wow—when it reached his eyes, he didn’t look like a jerk at all. Maybe she was misjudging him. But he just left with Red and he’s back for more already! She clenched her jaw tighter.
“Seltzer water, please,” he said.
Seltzer water? She took a few steps away and focused on pouring his drink at the back counter. Kat was by her side half a second later.
“He’s back? Already? That doesn’t say much about his bedroom skills,” Kat whispered.
Brianna glanced back at Hugh. Thankfully, between the noise of the customers and the distance between them, there was no way he’d heard her. “Shut up.”
Kat touched her arm. “You’re shaking.” She drew in a loud breath. “You’re shaking. Bree. Oh my gosh. Because of him?” she whispered.
“No. I’m tired, and I need to go home.”
Kat gave the guy at the bar a quick once-over and then waved as three large groups left the bar. “Twenty minutes. Can you handle it? Want me to take him?”
“Nah. I’ve got this.” Brianna wasn’t about to let some guy get the better of her. She’d learned her lesson six years earlier. She headed back toward the far end of the bar, where Hugh appeared to be people watching. “Here you go. Enjoy.” She handed him his drink and picked up a tip from the bar.
“Is it always like this in here?” he asked.
It took a second for Brianna to realize he was speaking to her. “Ah, I guess. On Thursdays, anyway.” Where’s Red?
He nodded. “Happy crowd.”
“Playoffs tend to bring out the smiles. And sometimes the fists, but luckily not tonight.” She watched him sip his water; then she began putting the bottles away.
“Is your kitchen still serving dinner?” he asked.
Dinner? She glanced at her watch and then back at him. “It’s almost ten.” She shrugged. “Sorry. They close the kitchen at ten. Maybe you can grab something at Bob’s, down the street.” Why am I still talking? She watched Kat crossing the bar to wipe down the booths.
“Nah. It’s okay. I’ll grab something at home.”
“I haven’t seen you in here before.” She glared at Kat’s back, wishing she’d come save her from her own inability to stop speaking. What is wrong with me? He’s just another customer. Then why does my stomach do a little flip every time he speaks?
He looked around the bar. “I’ve never been in here before tonight.” He finished his water as Kat came up to the bar.
“Done with Red…err…Tracie…already?” She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
He shook his head in question. “Done with? I just gave her a ride home.”
“No one just gives Red a ride home.” Brianna removed the towel from her belt and folded it, then set it on the counter behind her.
“Whoa. If you think I…” His eyes ran between the two women. “Sorry, ladies. That was a blind date, and she was definitely not my type.”
Kat leaned over the bar and smiled. “What is your type?”
Brianna shot her a look that said, The seductive voice? Really?
Kat ignored her.
“That’s a bold question.” He held out his hand. “I’m Hugh, by the way.”
“Kat.” Kat shook his hand.
He held his hand out toward Brianna. She narrowed her eyes. He was definitely a player. A really smooth one. There was no way she was touching his hand. If his voice made her stomach flutter, then who knew what kind of deluded thoughts his touch would give her
.
She crossed her arms. “Brianna. Bree.”
He held her gaze and her pulse sped up.
“Yes. I remember.”
You remembered.
“Well, Kat and Bree, I guess I never thought about what my type is. I just know she’s not it.”
He looked away, and the way the light caught his dark eyes made Brianna wish for her camera again. One day I’ll be able to afford to get it fixed. His features were unlike those of anyone she’d seen before. His almond-shaped eyes were on the small side, and on any other man they might look too small, but they were in perfect proportion to his luscious mouth, and the way his thick neck gave way to his strikingly broad shoulders was more masculine than any model she’d ever seen. She realized only too late that she’d missed half of what he’d said.
“Smart and honest, I guess. Family oriented, that’s a must for me. I guess if I had a type, that would be it.” He ran his hand through his hair.
Family oriented? Smart and honest? Holy smokes. No way. She scrutinized him again. There was no tension in his forehead. He leaned his forearms on the bar and appeared comfortable and relaxed. Between school, photography, and bartending, Brianna had studied people’s faces for enough years to know a huckster when she saw one. Hugh was either a very adept liar, or he was not at all the type of person she assumed he was.
Kat pushed herself from the counter where she’d been leaning and looked at him with a soft, dreamy gaze.
“Bree, it’s ten, hon.”
Mack’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Thanks, Mack.”
“I’ll walk you out back when you’re ready,” Mack said.
“Is that your husband?” Hugh asked.
Kat laughed too loud, and it made Brianna laugh, too.
“He’s my boss. I park out back, and he doesn’t like me to go out there in the dark by myself. He walks Kat out, too, when she parks there.” She was still smiling about his husband comment.
“After I pay, I’ll be leaving. Want me to walk you out?” Hugh asked.
Kat wiggled her eyebrows at her.
Yes! No! Bad idea. Truly bad idea. Brianna thought of Layla and came back to her senses. She looked down and straightened her T-shirt. “No, that’s okay. Mack will take me. It was nice meeting you, Hugh. Kat, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“When are you on?” Kat asked.
“I’m at Claude’s in the morning. Back here at four, after I get Layla.” For the first time in longer than she could remember, as Brianna said her daughter’s name, an uncomfortable feeling prickled her nerves. When she’d first had Layla and she was learning to shut out the male population, she’d had a few uncomfortable conversations with men about having a daughter. Now she felt that twinge of discomfort, and she hated herself for it. Why should she care if he knew she had a daughter? She was proud of Layla, and everything he’d just said was probably not true anyway. What man says he wants a smart, honest, and family-oriented woman? His good looks must have stolen her ability to think straight. That has to be it.
“Have a nice night, Bree,” Hugh said with a nod.
As Brianna and Mack headed out the door, she wondered what her name would sound like coming off his lips after a long, sensuous kiss.
Chapter Three
“ART, WHAT WERE you thinking?” Hugh spoke into the speakerphone as he drove his liquid-silver Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren Roadster through the gates of his ten-acre estate. He couldn’t stop thinking about Bree, but the thought that he’d been sitting with Tracie when he could have been trying to get to know Bree better pissed him off—and Art was about to pay for that.
“Was she that bad?” Art asked.
“Was she…? Art, you’re my buddy, man. What are you trying to do to me?” He pressed a button on his visor and the garage door lifted. Automatic lights illuminated the interior of his four-car garage.
“I’m sorry. It was a favor. She’s a friend of my sister’s best friend.”
“Dude, really? You’re supposed to protect my image. She was like…I don’t even know what. I’m off the market. Officially, as of right this second.” Hugh ended the call and headed inside the brick Tudor home he’d added to his real estate collection a few years earlier, when he’d found two naked women in his hotel bedroom and had to call security to have them removed. Hugh loved naked women as much as the next guy, but he liked his privacy. Even though he wasn’t in any state for very long, he returned year after year, and purchasing homes alleviated the need for hotels altogether. And after watching his four older brothers and his older sister fall in love over the past few months, he’d begun to feel a pull toward settling down, and he’d begun to want more. With a degree from Cornell in finance, he knew he could never settle down with a woman who wasn’t his intellectual equal, which meant most leggy models and fan girls were out of the equation. For months he’d been actively separating himself from his previous lifestyle.
He grabbed a copy of The Art of Negotiating and kicked back on a leather couch in the large great room. He clicked a remote, and the enormous propane fireplace bloomed in flames of orange and red; then he dimmed the overhead lights, and with another flick of the remote, the reading lamp that arced artfully over his left shoulder brightened. The house had many bells and whistles, which Hugh enjoyed, but he would have preferred something a little smaller. Since he’d purchased during the recession, it had been too good of a deal to pass up, and with the market recovery, he’d already doubled his original purchase price in equity.
He’d just slipped off his loafers and kicked his feet up on the glass coffee table when his cell phone rang.
Savannah. “How’s my newly engaged sister?”
“Happy. How are you?” Savannah had always been a positive light in Hugh’s life, but since getting engaged to Jack Remington, she’d been ridiculously cheery.
“Eh, you know. Life is good, my cars are fast, and my women are, too.” His usual statement fell off his lips like a bad habit, which is just what it had become. It even tasted wrong.
“Are you ever going to settle down?” she asked.
He thought about Tracie and cringed. Then he pictured Brianna’s beautiful face. “Maybe one day, but she’d have to be one heck of a woman for me to even consider it.” Hugh didn’t know why he was still playing the off-the-cuff answer to Savannah, but as he said the words, his mind traveled down a different path, realizing that what he’d been looking for just might come true after all.
“Yeah, well, when you’re not looking, you’ll find her. That’s when I found Jack. Treat will tell you fate steps in. Dad will tell you that Mom has her hand in it. But I think it’s just luck.” Savannah was an entertainment attorney, and her fiancé, Jack Remington, was an ex–Special Forces officer, a bush plane pilot, and a survival-training guide. Hugh pictured her in her Manhattan loft, probably packing to go to the cabin Jack owned in the Colorado Mountains, where they’d been spending their weekends.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll believe it when I experience it. What’s up, Vanny?”
“We’re having an engagement party at Dad’s, and I wanted to know if you could fit it into your schedule. It’s kind of short notice.”
“Of course. When is it?” Everything in the Braden family was short notice. They were used to dropping everything and coming together for one of their father’s backyard barbeques even though they lived so far apart.
“Two weeks from Saturday.”
Hugh mentally ran through his schedule. “Yeah, that’s perfect. The final race of the season is next weekend, so I should be clear for that. Did you talk to everyone else? Were you able to reach Dane and Lacy?”
“Yeah. It turns out that there’s some sort of function for Lacy’s work in Massachusetts the next week, so it worked out perfect for them, too. Josh and Riley, Treat and Max, and Rex and Jade will all be there. I’m so excited that you can make it.”
It struck Hugh that his siblings were no longer referred to as Treat, Dane, Rex, Josh, and Savannah. Each one wa
s now paired with their forever love. That was a comforting feeling, and something in him longed for the same connection. He sat up as the emotion—which had become even more familiar as of late—gripped him and refused to let go.
“Me too, Vanny. Tell Jack I said hi. I’m going to go chill. It’s been a long night.”
“Love you,” she said.
“Love you, too.” After he ended the call, he stood and paced. He looked out the French doors at the starry sky. Hugh had always been a confident, borderline cocky guy who lived life in the fast lane. He wasn’t a guy who felt uncomfortable in his own skin, and tonight, as he looked around the enormous house, he realized why he wasn’t enamored by the size of it. It made him feel very alone. Maybe even lonely.
He returned to the couch and read a few pages, but his mind kept drifting back to Bree. He wondered who Layla and Claude were. He imagined Layla was her sister. It was Claude that he stumbled over. That name he couldn’t write off as a sister or a pet, and the way her eyes lit up when she’d said it, he didn’t think it was her brother. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, and when he’d thrown out the comment about her boss being her husband, he saw the reaction he’d hoped for from both Brianna and Kat. Brianna definitely wasn’t married. But who is Claude?
He closed the book, draped his arm over his eyes, and thought about going back to the bar the next evening. It didn’t dawn on him until a few minutes later that he’d never looked past Brianna’s face. Yes, he’d definitely have to go back. That gorgeous of a face had to be attached to a knockout body.
Chapter Four
“ALMOST READY SWEET girl?” Brianna zipped her knee-high black boots that Kat had given her for her birthday over her skinny jeans and gave her outfit a once-over in the hall mirror. The gray boatneck sweater hung loosely over her slim figure, stopping just short of her hips. Her wrist bangles clinked as she brushed her hair from her face.
“You look really pretty, Mom,” Layla said.
Brianna kissed her cheek. “Not as pretty as you do, princess, but thank you. I’m helping Claude with a photo shoot this morning. Do you have your invitations?”