Arrogant Bastard

by Jennifer Dawson

  I glare at him.

  He smirks at me.

  That’s it. I’m going to murder him.

  Yes, this is something I think about a hundred or so times a day, but this time I mean it.

  Gwen shifts a little, taking us both in. “It’s actually good Caden’s here too. I want to talk about the run-through of the menu.”

  “Great.” My voice is too bright, but I focus all my attention on her. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m flying my best mixologist down from Chicago, because we want to do something different. Everyone’s doing wine and beer flights, so I thought it would be fun do to a cocktail one—something to pair with each course, featuring our best rum, of course. Her name is Amy, and she’ll be here Wednesday. If I give you her number, can you give them a call and see what she needs to experiment?”

  “I’ll call her this afternoon.” I keep a notebook with all the things I need to do, and it’s getting fuller by the day. I flip through two pages to get to the end. I write her name in and put an asterisk by the task. Once I find out what she needs, I guess I’ll be forced to talk to Caden again. And here I’d hoped to get this over with now and not have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

  Gwen takes out her phone and starts pressing the screen. Five seconds later, Amy’s contact information is in my texts.

  “Can she can use the private tasting room?” Gwen asks.

  “Let me check the schedule.” I pull up the calendar, thankful to have something to keep me busy so my gaze doesn’t wander to Caden. I nod. “We have a small tasting with a local restaurant coming in, but I’ll move them to the cellar and make sure the room is stocked with what Amy needs. If I block the main room for those two days, will that be enough?” My fingers tap on the keys as I make the arrangements.

  “Perfect.” Gwen tucks a lock of hair behind her ears. “So, change of plans. Now don’t kill me.”

  My stomach tightens. “Okay.”

  She beams at me, clearly hoping to dazzle and butter me up. “Jackson and I were talking last night, and we have so much riding on this. The private event has to be perfect, you know?”

  I nod, anxiety knotting in my sternum.

  Gwen continues. “We thought it would be a good idea if we expanded the run-through, adding a few more people we trust to be brutal with us to make sure we’ve nailed everything.”

  Gwen and Jackson seem to forever be changing plans or expanding what they were thinking. I guess it’s a peril of creative genius, but how the hell should I know?

  “Okay.” I feel a headache coming on.

  Gwen bites her lower lip. “You and Caden, of course.”

  My heart skips a beat at her combining us, making us sound like a couple when we most definitely are not.

  “Uncle Beau and Wyatt.”

  Obviously.

  “I’d also like to invite Jillian and Leo and my sisters.” Gwen turns to Caden. “Jillian is my best friend in the entire world, and Leo is her husband.”

  “Gotcha,” Caden says.

  Gwen flutters her lashes at me. “Do you mind if they stay in the house? We can make a weekend of it.”

  Oh, the joys of living with your siblings. The last thing I want is houseguests, but I can’t say no. Not only is it not my place, it’s too important to Jackson and Gwen.

  I shake my head. “No, of course not!”

  It’s not that I mind, exactly. It’s just that it’s already crazy, and Wyatt, Jackson, and Gwen have a million important things to do—which means I’ll have to work with Mrs. Potts and take care of getting ready for everyone’s arrival and stay.

  “Are you sure?” Gwen asks, shifting in her seat. “I know it’s a lot, but you guys are the only ones I trust.”

  “It’s not a problem at all. I’m sure it will be fun.” I tilt my head. “Don’t you want to invite your parents?”

  Clearly, I’m insane.

  She shakes her head. “They’re coming in for the opening. Besides, they’ll just tell me I’m wonderful.” She grins at Caden. “It’s my curse.”

  He laughs and laces his fingers over his stomach. “I’m sure it’s real hard for you.”

  “You have no idea.” Gwen leans forward. “Will you work with Cat on all the different herbs we have ready to harvest? I never know what Amy will come up with, and I want to give her maximum room to play and be creative.”

  “Will do.” Caden nods.

  “Perfect. I’ll send you both an email with everything we need,” Gwen says.

  The headache behind my eyes grows. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “Whew.” Gwen stands. “I know it’s a lot, but Jackson and I were talking last night, and we think it’s best if we have a core group critiquing everything instead of laying it all at your feet.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “It will still be totally casual. I swear!” She grins at me. “We’ll make it a party.”

  “Great. I’m sure it will be fun.” I feel like I’m smiling too hard, trying not to panic. I remind myself that it’s my job—doing all the things the talent doesn’t have time to do.

  “Fantastic. Let me know if you need anything,” Gwen says, making her way out of my office.

  “Will do.” I unclench my jaw as she walks out the door, leaving me alone with Caden.

  I grab my notebook and start yet another list. Maybe I should keep it on the computer, or my phone, but nothing organizes my brain like old-fashioned pen to paper.

  My mind is already spinning. At least I have a distraction from Caden. I glance at him. “All right, you’re up. What do you need?”

  His gaze narrows, and he stares at me for so long I shift in my seat under his scrutiny.

  I furrow my brow. “What?”

  He shakes his head. “Why did you agree to that?”

  “Agree to what?” I wave. “That’s my job. We’re opening a restaurant, or hadn’t you heard?”

  “That’s not what I’m asking.”

  I don’t like where he’s going. It’s too close to the truth I don’t want to think about. “Consider me confused then.”

  “Why did you agree to have all those people in your house when it’s clear that’s not what you want?” His tone isn’t sharp, but it lands like a rebuke.

  “What exactly am I supposed to do?” My fingers tighten on my pen. “It’s not my house.”

  “No? Your name isn’t on the deed along with your brothers’?”

  It is, and until right this second it didn’t occur to me that I don’t consider it mine. Another thing I don’t want to think about.

  I shrug. “It will be fine.”

  “You’ll handle it. You always do, but that’s not really the question on the table.”

  My irritation rises. He’s adding to my stress, and I’m already anxious enough with all the things I’ve got to do. “These are the kinds of things that happen when you share a house with people. It’s not a big deal.”

  He studies me in that judging, watchful way he has. “I’m just suggesting you should have a say.”

  “This is a big deal for Jackson and Gwen. I’ll adjust, and it’s only for a few days.” I blow out a hard breath. “So, what did you need?”

  He frowns. “Nothing.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind.” I point at the door. “As you heard, I have a lot to take care of.”

  He stands and walks to the door, but instead of continuing through it, he shuts it and flicks the lock before turning back to me.

  “What are you doing?” My words are breathless.

  He stalks over to me, hauls me to my feet, and before I can speak, his lips meet mine. His mouth is hot, hard.

  All thoughts of irritation and resistance fade into the background as his arms come around me, his large palms settling on my ass.

  He squeezes, and I rise to my tiptoes, my body flush against his. He pulls me closer, his head tilting to deepen the contact.

  His tongue slides, tangling with mine.

  As much
as I want to kill him most of the time, he makes me forget everything but him.

  My arms curl around his neck.

  We break apart.

  Breathe harshly.

  Then press together again.

  It brings back all the want, all the needy desire from last night.

  And I do want him.

  More than I’ve ever wanted any other man.

  He pulls away and brushes his mouth against mine once more before running a finger down the line of my jaw. “Who takes care of you, Catarina?”

  I blink, coming back from all the lust.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Who puts your needs first?” His voice is soft.

  My lashes flutter. “I’m all good.”

  “No, you’re not.” He kisses me again, almost sweetly. “But you will be.”

  And with that, he turns and walks out, leaving me staring after him.

  Caden

  * * *

  Three days later, Cat’s standing in the kitchen with Mrs. Potts and Gwen while I’m sitting at the table, watching her overcommit herself.

  Gwen taps a long finger against her chin. “Maybe we should have some snacks for tonight. You know, something casual.”

  Cat nods. “Sure thing.”

  When it comes to food, Gwen and Jackson don’t do anything casual, and they’ll take care of that part, but some of the work still falls on Cat. I’d bet money she’s exhausted at the prospect of another night entertaining people.

  Things have been crazy—the house, farm, and restaurant buzzing with near constant activity. Since I didn’t want to add to Cat’s stress, I’ve kept things between us light and fun—kissing her whenever the fuck I feel like it, or when I think she needs it to reset her brain, but leaving the rest alone for now.

  It’s not the time to push for what I want.

  For the moment, I’ve come to peace with the fact that I can’t stay away from her. Despite the reasons to stay away, and the near certain knowledge that it will end badly, I want her too much to stop what’s happening between us.

  Maybe it’s self-destructive like always—fuck, it probably is. But a part of me, the hopeful part, wants to believe it could be different. Because she’s different. The way I feel about her is different.

  In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter because after the night in the car when I licked her pussy and she came with my fingers up her ass, I’ve accepted that I’m going down this path.

  Her pull is too strong.

  And I need to see. It’s a compulsion I can’t talk myself out of.

  But now that I’ve made up my mind, I’ve got plenty of patience.

  Gwen leaves, and Mrs. Potts isn’t too far behind, leaving us alone in the kitchen. Cat plops down on the chair across from me.

  “What do you need?” I ask. It’s a question I ask repeatedly of her throughout the days. She’s yet to really grasp my meaning, but I hope that changes soon.

  She shakes her head. “I’m good.”

  I can’t help wondering if she’s ever going to accept what I’m offering. She shows no signs at present.

  I give her a sly grin. “Wanna sleep at my house?”

  She immediately straightens in her chair. “No!”

  I laugh. “You know my door is always open.”

  She glares at me. “Like I’m ever going to show up at your door.”

  “Never say never.” I cock my brow. “Bet you didn’t think you’d be begging me either, but look how that turned out.”

  She picks up a napkin, crumples it into a ball, and throws it at me. “Why are you such a bastard?”

  I shrug. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  She stares at me, those steely eyes of hers sparking before she says, “Well, anyway…”

  I chuckle again and put my elbows on the table. “You sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”

  “Don’t you have things to do?”

  “Always. But things are under control, and I’m at your disposal.”

  “Oh, really?”

  I meet her skeptical gaze. “Really.”

  Her forehead wrinkles, like she’s thinking something through. Then she sits forward. “Will you help me make all the beds? Mrs. Potts was going to do it, but Natalie had an episode, so she needs to take care of her at the moment.”

  I stand, walk around the table, and hold out my hand to her. “Let’s get it done.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re tucking a sheet around the last of the bed corners, and I’ve teased her into laughing, which makes me happy. She unfolds the flat sheet and, with a flick of her wrist, it billows out over the middle of the bed.

  I take a hold of the corner. “Did you and your brothers ever lay under the covers and have someone fluff them over you?”

  She shakes her head. “No, did you? I thought you were an only child.”

  “I am, but I had a neighbor.”

  She raises a brow. “Was this neighbor a girl?”

  “Of course.”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Because you’re a smart woman.”

  “And you’re a pervert,” she shoots back.

  I put my knee on the bed, lunge over to snatch her wrist, and pull her tumbling down onto the bed.

  She screeches and tries to scramble off, but I hold her down, rolling over on top of her. I’m certain Catarina McKay needs more fun in her life, and I’m just the man to give it to her. I slide my knee between her legs, and she opens for me. I wrap her wrists in my hands and bring them over her head. “I didn’t get really perverted until much later.”

  Her breath sucks in. “I don’t believe you.”

  “With age comes deviance.”

  Her lashes flutter. “The bed.”

  “Uh-huh.” One hand still holding her wrists, I use the other to trail over her rib cage.

  “We should stop.” Her gaze darts toward the open door. “Anyone could see us.”

  I lower my head, letting the tip of my tongue brush the seam of her lips. “Is that so?”

  She nods, but her mouth parts and I sink in, letting her scent seep into me. I shift, deepening the contact, eating at her mouth until she’s out of breath and straining against me.

  I cup her breast, rubbing her nipple with my thumb through her T-shirt.

  She gasps, my name rolling across my skin.

  I whisper against her, “Have you been thinking about my cock in your ass?”

  She shakes her head, even as her hips rock up, sliding against my thigh.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes.” The word breathless.

  We kiss again, and I snake under her top, touching the smooth satin of her belly before sliding my fingers over her breast. I unhook the front clasp of her bra, peeling away the fabric to touch her.

  I raise my head to speak low into her ear. “I’ve been thinking about how good it’s going to feel, you tight around my cock. How you’re going to hate it at first but find yourself craving it anyway.”

  “Caden.” Her tone has taken on that pleading quality that makes me hard.

  I continue, unable to stop tormenting her. “I’m going to play with your clit until you come, screaming.”

  Her back bows, like she can’t help herself.

  I play over her nipple. “You want an orgasm right now, Cat? To help take the edge off?”

  She doesn’t answer, just surges up to meet me.

  “Say it,” I whisper, against her. “Say, make me come, Caden.”

  She shakes her head, but tries to squirm and capture my mouth. Probably hoping to shut me up.

  I won’t be dissuaded. “Say it, and I’ll slide your panties down and give you what you need.”

  “What is going on in here?” An indignant voice fills the room.

  Cat and I jerk apart, and I release her lips, rolling over to see Mrs. Potts standing in the doorway.

  Cat scrambles, leaning against the head
board and smoothing her hair. “Mrs. Potts.”

  The older woman rolls her eyes. “You’re supposed to be making these beds, not rolling around in them, missy.”

  Cat clears her throat. “Sorry.”

  Mrs. Potts points a finger at me. “And you. You should be ashamed of yourself, young man.”

  I grin. “Oh, I totally am.”

  She tisks at me. “Don’t give me your sass.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She clucks her tongue. “Young people and their hormones. We’ve got a child here. Use some common sense. It’s bad enough I have to see that boy and Gwen all the time. Don’t make me scared to walk into some room, afraid I’m going to witness an orgy.”

  I prop my head on my palm, resting my elbow on the bed. “I was just kissing her.”

  “With your hand under her top.” Mrs. Potts nods. “I’ve got eyes.”

  Cat crosses her arms over her chest. “We got it. Goodbye now.”

  She shifts her razor-sharp focus to Cat. “Don’t give away the milk for free.”

  “For God’s sake.” Cat throws up her hands. “This isn’t the fifties.”

  “It should be.” She turns and walks away.

  I look at Cat, grinning. “That was a mood killer.”

  She blows out an exasperated breath. “Probably for the best anyway.”

  “I’ll still give you that orgasm, though.” I give her my most devilish smirk. “All you need to do is ask.”

  “Like I’m ever going to have an orgasm again.” She huffs, all adorable.

  I laugh. “Challenge accepted.”

  16

  Cat

  The great room is full, the lights blazing, as our guests for the weekend have arrived. The main purpose for this gathering—the tasting—won’t get underway until tomorrow, but there’s been a steady flow of food and wine.

  Travel hasn’t seemed to slow anyone down.

  But after a long day, I’m exhausted.

  I’d love to crawl into bed, but I have to be polite first. Not that they care about my presence, but I want to make sure everyone is taken care of, the rooms have what they need, and I’ve made a proper appearance before calling it a night.