A Kiss For You

by Rachel Van Dyken

  A bunch of hurried receptionists teetered out of my way with a squeaked, “Hello, Mr. Wright.”

  All I had to do was shake hands, sign some paperwork, and then dismantle the Austin-based corporation I’d been trying to get my hands on for years. They were Wright Construction’s biggest competitor, and now was the time for it to all get finalized. As our motto said, What’s Wright Is Right.

  “Gentlemen, lady,” I said with a brief acknowledgment to Abigail Tarman, the only woman in the room, “let’s begin.”

  I settled in for the long haul. I knew they wouldn’t let this go easily. The owner was the son of my father’s biggest adversary. We were about the same age and had attended Texas Tech at the same time. Then, we had each thought we would outgrow our respective father’s ambitions. We’d both be architects and reshape the industry. It hadn’t worked out that way. It had been way more fucked up than that.

  “Marc,” I said, holding my hand out to the current Mr. Tarman himself.

  “Jensen,” he said blandly.

  He shook my hand, and we each squeezed tighter than we had to.

  “Shall we?” Marc asked, gesturing to the long rectangular table in the center of the room.

  “I believe we shall.”

  I stalked to the front of the room and took my seat across from Marc. The negotiations had been over weeks ago, but I knew that he wouldn’t let me off this easily. I had been slowly eroding his company over the course of the last five years. I’d have loved to see it burn to the ground already, but it was better this way. Sweeter.

  It was hours before I officially signed. I had known Marc would take me through the wringer, and I hadn’t been disappointed. But I signed the last piece of paper with a flourish. Watching Marc hand over the company to me was perfection. I passed the paperwork to my lawyer to review one last time and then to file.

  “Good doing business with you,” I said with a smirk.

  “I wish I could say the same to you,” Marc said with barely concealed animosity.

  “Now, now, Marcus,” his younger sister, Abigail, said. “Would you care to join us for dinner, Jensen?”

  “I have to decline. But thank you, Abby.”

  “Jensen, come on. I insist. We’ve known each other too long for it to all end this way.”

  My eyes cut to Marc’s. “I have my…girlfriend with me.”

  Marc seemed to perk up with both shock and confusion at that statement. “Girlfriend? That’s a new one.”

  “Marcus,” Abigail snapped. “Your girlfriend is welcome to come, Jensen. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  “All right. Let me let her know. She’s at the hotel.”

  “Why don’t we pick her up on the way?” Abigail suggested.

  Marc looked like it was quite literally the last thing he wanted to do. I couldn’t agree more. But, if it made Marc uncomfortable, then I was in for it.

  I took out my phone and clicked over to Messages, only to realize I’d missed two in the midst of the negotiations. I gritted my teeth.

  Vanessa. Goddamn woman had the worst fucking timing.

  Don’t do this.

  You don’t have to sign that paperwork today. Your father wouldn’t have wanted this.

  I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to show any emotions in front of the Tarmans. They fed on it. Vanessa bringing up my father was a low blow, and she knew it.

  I responded shortly.

  Signed, sealed, delivered.

  Then, I erased her messages and pulled up Emery’s number, letting her know that I would be picking her up at the hotel for dinner with the Tarmans.

  We’re going to dinner with the people who owned the company you just purchased? What should I wear?

  Something sexy as hell. See you in fifteen.

  I retreated to the lobby with Marc and Abigail. Marc was on his phone in deep conversation with someone who he probably cared very little about. Any excuse not to have to talk to me any longer. And I was grateful.

  Abigail could field the tension like a professional.

  “Who is the new girl, Jensen?” she asked.

  “She’s recently moved to town. Was a PhD student here at UT before coming back to Lubbock.”

  Abigail’s eyebrows rose. She knew my policy as well as anyone. “An in-town girl? Why, you never fail to surprise me.”

  I shrugged. “She’s worth it.”

  “And does she know?”

  My eyes shot to her hazel ones. They were searching and curious. Abigail knew too much about me and my family. I suddenly had a bad feeling about bringing Emery to this dinner.

  “She doesn’t,” Abigail said as a matter of fact. “God help you with Marc here.”

  I ignored Abigail’s comment and slid into the limousine that the Tarmans had waiting. It was a bit ostentatious for the circumstances, but I had just paid them a small fortune for the company. They could afford it for now.

  We pulled up in front of the hotel a short while later, and Emery was standing there, dressed to kill. I didn’t know how she had managed it in the short time I’d given her, but she was in a stunning red cocktail dress and pumps. Her hair was swept off her face, and she had on cherry-red lipstick. A color that had me thinking a million dirty thoughts at once. Like what that color would taste like. And how nice it would look around my dick.

  I stepped out of the back to open the door for her, and she practically glowed when she saw me.

  “A limo?” she asked.

  “A bit much?”

  “Or just enough,” she countered.

  “You seem like you’re in a better mood than when I left you.”

  “Well, I got all that nasty business resolved, and now, I’m with you again.”

  I slid my arm around her waist and placed a deep kiss on her lips. She leaned into me, both of us forgetting all about her red lipstick. She laughed when she leaned back and smudged a spot off my mouth.

  “Come on, Jensen,” Abigail called from the door.

  “We have to talk,” I whispered into Emery’s ear as she moved to pass me into the limo. Her eyes shot to mine in confusion. “I just have to…tell you some things. Ignore Marc.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll explain.”

  Emery slid into the limo, and I cursed, wishing I’d had more time to clarify everything. I hoped Marc could keep a lid on his anger for a whole dinner without ruining it for everyone.

  Emery was already introducing herself to Abigail and Marc as I hopped back into the limo, and it zoomed away.

  “Ah,” Marc said, looking Emery up and down, “you don’t seem the type.”

  Emery’s lips pursed. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” Abigail interjected. “Ignore my brother. He’s in a foul mood.”

  I knew that Emery was frustrated when her eyes slid to me. I hated that look. She was wary and had her guard up again. I didn’t want to blindside her, but I had to say something about Marc.

  “I just mean that you’re the girl of the weekend, right?” Marc asked. His eyes were mirthless. He seemed happy to taunt her, even before we made it to the restaurant.

  “Marc!” Abigail cried.

  “Just let it be, Marc,” I growled.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Emery asked.

  He chose to respond only to her, “You know…the fling he has when he’s out of town. You must realize that you’re it.”

  “I’ll have you know,” she spat, “I know all about his reputation, and I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I’m that kind of girl. Jensen and I are together. This isn’t a one-time thing. And who the hell are you to even say something like that to me?”

  I nearly choked on my own laughter at Marc’s bewildered face.

  “Just an old family friend,” Marc said. “Tell me everything about yourself. How did you manage to catch Jensen’s eye and keep it? I thought only one person was capable of that.”

  Emery frowned as she mulled over wha
t Marc had said, and I realized it was an absolutely horrid idea to have brought her along. Marc was a snake, and I had released her into the viper’s den.

  “Blow jobs,” she said quite calmly.

  Marc sputtered and then started laughing. “You surprise me.”

  I couldn’t help myself; I laughed with him. Man, this girl. She is…perfect.

  “Also, I’m completely irresistible,” Emery continued.

  “I have no doubt,” Marc agreed. His eyes swept up her bare legs and then back to her face. “No doubt at all.”

  I possessively wrapped an arm around her tense shoulders and leaned her back into me. As far away from Marc as possible. He shot me a look full of questions that I was all too aware of. I just wanted to enjoy this night, and somehow, I’d been left with this.

  We all piled out of the limousine when it pulled up to the restaurant entrance. Abigail dragged Marc inside for their table, but Emery drew me aside before we entered the room.

  “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

  I sighed and ran my hand back through my hair. “A lot.”

  “I can see that, Jensen. Who are these people? Why did you tell me to ignore Marc?”

  “Marc is an old family friend. Sort of. He and Abigail are Tarmans, who, up until a few minutes ago, were the Wrights’ biggest rivals.”

  “You were friends with your rivals?”

  “Money talks to money,” I explained.

  “Okay,” she said uncertainly. “But all of that other stuff?”

  “I have a reputation.”

  “I know that much.”

  I hated that she knew. I hated that she seemed to fear my reputation. I could see it in her eyes. I could see it in the set of her shoulders and the stiffness of her body. I wanted to make it go away.

  “But I’m not doing that anymore. That’s why I brought you. That’s why I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

  “So…you wouldn’t be tempted to shop around?” she asked as quiet as a mouse. “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  I held up my hand. “It’s a fair question, considering my background, but no,” I said through gritted teeth, “I would never do that. I am a one-woman kind of man.”

  “One woman being me…or that other girl Marc mentioned?”

  “The woman he was talking about is my ex-wife, Vanessa.”

  “Okay. So, you’ve been married,” she said. “I don’t follow the Wright family drama.”

  “Any of it?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Nope. Kind of swore off the whole bunch. Are you still in love with her? Is that it?”

  “No. Vanessa is not the woman for me. If she were, I never would have divorced her.”

  “Okay.”

  I reached out and cupped her cheeks. I hated this far-away, distant look on her face. The one that she used when she was bracing herself. The last thing I wanted was for her to be afraid of me. Afraid of what I would do to her. I would never be Mitch. That fucking bastard. I would never hurt her like that.

  “Emery, I want you and only you. I would never cheat on you. Never, ever.”

  “How could you know that?”

  I hated seeing her so hurt and vulnerable. Seeing what Mitch had done to her. But, at the same time, I was glad she was showing those vulnerabilities to me so that I could prove to her how I felt.

  “Because Vanessa cheated on me, and I divorced her for it.”

  And that wasn’t even the half of it.

  Emery made a small, almost inaudible gasp. “Oh God.”

  “It was nasty, and I’d never put another human being through something like that.”

  “It feels insurmountable.”

  “It was,” I admitted. “And I’m not perfect by any means, Emery. I have trust issues. After what Vanessa did, I never thought that I would be open to another person again, but you’re different. I want to open up to you. It’s all going to take time.”

  “No,” she said, waving her hand. “I was just cheated on. I’m the one with major trust issues. I just freaked out, and then Marc—”

  “Marc is a jackass.”

  “I’ve realized.”

  “Look, I don’t want you to doubt me. This is the reason I reacted the way I did the first night we were together. I have enough baggage as it is. Though I may not be a hundred percent since the divorce, I know that I’m better when I’m with you. You make me a better man.”

  She beamed. The tension and chaos of that brief interaction with Marc Tarman evaporated. Just like that, she was my Emery again. And I knew, right then and there…I was lost.

  Chapter 21

  Emery

  I braced myself for impact and followed Jensen through the restaurant.

  What he had revealed about his past explained so much about his behavior. It was as if I had been chipping away at the ice and I was finally finding the man beneath. When I’d decided to hate all the Wrights a long time ago, I had never once imagined that there would be so much more to who Jensen was or that he had been hurt like I had. He was so charming and gorgeous and everything.

  How could someone do something like that to him?

  And why did he even bother with Marc? Why go to dinner with someone he thought was a jackass and after just buying his corporation?

  Seemed insane to me, but I wouldn’t abandon Jensen, leaving him to deal with Marc alone.

  “Sorry about that,” I said when I took my seat.

  “Of course,” Marc said, staring at me with his all-knowing sharp gaze. “I took the liberty of ordering you a vodka tonic. You do like vodka tonics, don’t you?”

  His eyes slipped to Jensen’s, and I noticed the slight tension in his jaw. This was going to be a problem.

  “I’m more of a champagne drinker myself.” I shrugged. “Or tequila shots. Whatever you’re into.”

  “No vodka tonic? I’m shocked. A girl like you?” Marc leaned back in his chair. “Soon, you’re going to tell me you’ve never modeled with that pretty face.”

  “Marc,” Abigail and Jensen snapped at the same time.

  I held my hand up. “Look, it’s fine. Whatever you’re doing is fine. Take shots at me all you want. I get you might be upset with Jensen, and you’re petty enough to try to take it out on me, but I’m not a vodka tonic–drinking, pretty-faced model. I’m not anything you think I am. So, keep hurling insults and layered jabs. I can take it. It’s not going to make a damn difference to me.”

  Marc closed his mouth on whatever he had wanted to say next. Abigail gave me an appraising look, as if I had passed some unknown test, while Jensen looked like he wanted to kiss me. Instead, my insides were roiling because I had acted so bold. But I couldn’t ignore the effectiveness of it.

  I flagged down the waitress. “Can you replace that vodka tonic order with a glass of champagne? Veuve Brut preferably.”

  “Of course.”

  My point being made now, the rest of the dinner went much smoother. Marc seemed to reel his claws back in, and I found I actually really liked Abigail. She seemed to be a genuine person. I had to assume those were few and far between in this industry.

  And, once Marc stopped egging Jensen on, they settled into some kind of routine. Just over dinner, it was obvious that they had known each other for a long time. I had to guess they had even been friends. I knew from experience that only close friends could speak without saying a word and laugh at implied jokes. Jensen and Marc had that levity—underneath all the animosity at least.

  Despite how good things had been going the rest of the night, I was glad when dinner ended. We said good-bye to Marc and Abigail and headed back to the hotel. Our fancy suite was waiting for us—something I found extremely strange. I had lived in this city for three years in a shoebox apartment. We could have stayed at my place, despite the disaster, but Jensen had insisted on this. And I enjoyed the luxury of it. Who wouldn’t want a Jacuzzi to fit a party of ten and a full living room with a balcony? But it was also…strange.
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br />   “Glad I grabbed this dress from my place before we left or else I would have had to miss that really fun time,” I said with dry sarcasm, slinging my jacket on the couch.

  Jensen ran his hands down my bare arms. He pressed a kiss into my shoulder. “I’m sorry about that. I should have realized it would be a mistake.”

  “A mistake,” I said softly. He was trailing kisses up my neck, and it was hard for me to concentrate. “Are you going to tell me what crawled up Marc’s butt?”

  Jensen laughed against my neck and then nipped me. “Besides the fact that I just bought his company?”

  I swung around to face him. “It was more than that. I’m not blind.”

  He nodded with a sigh. “You’re right. It’s a long story. You already know part of it.”

  “We have all night,” I reminded him.

  “Indeed we do,” he said, his hands landing on my hips and then moving to my ass.

  “Tell me about it. I want to know you. I want to understand.”

  “All right.” He took a step back and composed himself.

  He gestured for me to take a seat, and I tucked my legs underneath myself on the couch. Jensen took the spot next to me.

  “Marc and I have known each other a long time. We were always thinly veiled enemies but hopeful friends. Against his father’s wishes, he ended up at Texas Tech because of their architecture program. We were in the program at the same time.”

  “You went to school for architecture?” I asked in confusion. “I thought you majored in business.”

  “Yes. My father required I major in business, but I took architecture classes on the side. I believed, as did Marc, that business destroyed the soul, as we had seen it happen with our families. It didn’t build anything. It only tore things down. It never made things better. We were visionaries. We wanted more.”

  “Yet you each run your respective father’s business,” I whispered.

  “I knew I would always have a job at Wright Construction whenever I wanted it. So, post-graduation, I took an internship at an architectural company in New York for a year. Vanessa and I were engaged. My father was furious about the internship, but I had a whole plan. I was going to change the world.”