Beautiful Bastard (9 page)

Seven

I spent the better part of Saturday running at the lake, trying to get some air, some distance, some clarity to my thoughts. Even so, the hour-long drive to my parents’ house gave me plenty of time to return to the tangle of frustrations in my head: Miss Mills, how I hated her, how much I craved her, the flowers Joel sent. Leaning farther back into the seat, I tried to let the soothing sound of the car engine calm me. It wasn’t working.

So here were the facts: I felt possessive of her. Not in a romantic
sort of way, but in a “hit her over the head, drag her off by the hair, and fuck her” way. Like she was my toy and I was keeping the other boys in the sandbox from playing with her. How sick was that? If she ever heard me admit to that, she would cut off my balls and feed them to me.

Now the question was how to proceed. Obviously Joel was interested. How could he not be? All he had was secondhand information from my family, who obviously adored her, and I’m sure they’d showed him at least one photograph. If that was all I knew about her I’d be interested too. But there was no way he could have an actual conversation with her and still find her appealing.

Unless he just wanted to fuck her
.
.
.

The sound of the leather steering wheel straining under my grip told me I’d be better off not thinking about that.

He wouldn’t have agreed to meet her at my parents’ home if all he wanted was sex, would he? I considered this. Maybe he really did want to get to know her better. Hell, even I could admit to having been a bit intrigued before we actually spoke. Of course, that hadn’t lasted long, and she’d proven to be one of the most aggravating people I’d ever met. Unfortunately for me, she was also the best sex I’d ever had.

Fuck, he’d better never get that far. I wasn’t sure I knew where to hide a body around here.

I still remembered the first moment I saw her. My parents had come to visit me one Christmas while I was living abroad, and one of my gifts had been a digital photo frame. While going through the photos with my mom, I paused the slideshow at a picture of my parents standing with a beautiful brown-haired girl.

“Who is this with you and Dad?” I asked. Mom told me that her name was Chloe Mills, and that she worked as an assistant for my dad and was all kinds of wonderful. She was probably only twenty in the photograph, but her effortless beauty was arresting.

Over the years her face would pop up in photos that my mom sent to me; company functions, Christmas parties, even parties at the house. Her name was brought up occasionally as my family recounted stories about the general goings-on of work and life.

So when the decision was made that I would come home and take over as COO, my father explained that Chloe was getting her business degree at Northwestern, had a scholarship that required real-world experience, and that mine would be a perfect job for her to shadow for a year. My family loved and trusted her, and the fact that my father and brother had absolutely no reservations about her ability to handle the job spoke volumes. I immediately agreed. I was a bit worried that my appreciation for her appearance would interfere with my ability to be her boss, but I quickly reassured myself that the world was full of beautiful women and it would be easy enough to separate the two.

Oh, how stupid I’d been.

And now I could see all the mistakes I’d made over the last few months, how even from that first day, it was all leading up to this.

To make matters worse, I couldn’t seem to seal the deal with anyone lately without thinking of her. Just the thought of the last time I tried was enough to make me wince.

It was a few days before the Window Incident—as I was now referring to it—and I had a charity event to attend. Coming into the office I was stunned to see Miss Mills in an incredibly sexy blue dress I’d never seen before. The minute I saw her I’d wanted to throw her on the desk and fuck her senseless.

All that night with my beautiful blond trophy date by my side I’d been distracted. I knew I was coming to the end of my rope and eventually I was going to snap. If only I’d known how soon that would be.

I tried to prove to myself that Miss Mills wasn’t really getting inside my head by going home with the blonde. Stumbling into her apartment, we’d kissed and undressed quickly, but everything felt off. It’s not that she wasn’t hot and interesting enough, but as I lay her down, it was dark hair I envisioned spread across the pillow. When kissing her breasts, it was soft, full ones—not silicone—I wanted to feel. And even as I rolled on the condom and moved into her, I knew she was just a faceless body I was using for my own selfish needs.

I tried to keep Chloe from my thoughts but was unable to stop the forbidden image of what it would be like to have her under me. Only then did I come hard, quickly rolling off my date and immediately hating myself. Now I was even more disgusted with the memory than when it happened, because I’d let her get into my head and stay there.

If I could make it through tonight, things would get easier. I parked the car and began mentally chanting,
You can do this. You can do this.

“Mom?” I called out, looking into each room I passed.

“Out here, Bennett,” I heard her answer from the back patio.

I opened the French doors and was greeted with my mother’s smile as she put the finishing touches on the outdoor table.

I leaned over so she could kiss me. “So why are we eating out here tonight?”

“It’s such a lovely evening, and I thought it might make everyone more comfortable than sitting in that stuffy dining room. You don’t think anyone will mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” I said. “It’s beautiful out here. Don’t worry.”

And it was beautiful. The patio was topped with a massive white pergola, the beams draped in heavy greenery. The centerpiece was a large rectangular table that sat eight; it was covered in a soft ivory tablecloth and my mother’s favorite china. Candles and blue flowers overflowed small silver pitchers running the length of the table, and a wrought-iron candelabra flickered overhead.

“You do know that not even I
can keep Sofia from tearing this stuff off the table, though, don’t you?” I popped a grape into my mouth.

“Oh, she’s with Mina’s parents tonight. And just as well,” she said. “If Sofia were here all the attention would be on her.”

Shit
. With Sofia making faces across from me, I would have had something to distract me from Joel.

“Tonight is about Chloe. And I’m really hoping that she and Joel hit it off.” She continued flitting around the patio, lighting candles and making last-minute adjustments, completely unaware of my anguish.

I was screwed. As I was contemplating making a run for it, I heard Henry—on time for once. “Where is everybody?” he yelled, his deep voice echoing through the empty house. Opening the door for my mother, we stepped inside, finding my brother in the kitchen.

“Sooo, Ben,” he began, leaning his lanky frame against the counter. “Excited about tonight?”

I waited until Mom left the room again to eye him skeptically. “I guess,” I answered, going for casual. “I think Mom made lemon squares. My favorite.”

“You’re so full of shit. I’m looking forward to watching Cignoli make a play for Chloe in front of everyone. Could make for an entertaining evening, don’t you think?” Just as he was pulling a chunk of bread from one of the large loaves on the counter, Mina walked in and swatted his hands away.

“Do you want to send your mother into a fit by ruining the dinner she has planned? You be nice tonight, Henry. No teasing or joking with Chloe. You know she has to be nervous enough about all this. Lord knows she puts up with enough crap from this one,” she said, gesturing toward me.

“What are you talking about?” I was growing tired of the overeager Chloe Mills fan club around here. “I haven’t done anything to her.”

“Bennett.” My father stood in the doorway, motioning for me to come with him. I followed him out of the kitchen and into his study. “Please be on your best behavior tonight. I realize you and Chloe don’t get along, but this is our home, not your office, and I expect you to treat her with respect.”

Clenching my jaw tightly, I nodded in agreement, thinking of all the ways I’d disrespected her in the past few weeks.

While I went down to the washroom, Joel arrived, bringing a bottle of wine and a few variations on his eager greetings: a “You look fantastic!” for Mom, a “How’s the baby?” for Mina, and a solid handshake-and-man-hug combination for Henry and Dad.

I lingered down the hall, mentally preparing myself for the night ahead.

We’d been good friends with Joel growing up and throughout school, but I hadn’t seen him since coming home. He hadn’t changed much. He was a bit shorter than me, with a slim build, jet-black hair, and blue eyes. I suppose some women would consider him attractive.

“Bennett!” Handshake, man hug. “God, man. How long has it been?”

“A long time, Joel. I think since right after high school,” I answered, shaking his hand firmly. “How have you been?”

“Great. Things have been really great. How about you? I’ve seen your pictures in magazines, so I guess you’re doing pretty well for yourself.” He patted my shoulder amiably.

What a dick.

I gave a small nod and a forced smile in return. Deciding I needed a few more minutes to think, I excused myself and headed up the stairs to my old room.

Just walking through the door I felt calmer. The room had changed little since I was eighteen. Even while I was out of the country, my parents kept it virtually the same as the day I left for college. Sitting on my old bed I thought about how I’d feel if Miss Mills actually became involved with Joel. He really was a nice guy, and though I hated to admit it, there was definitely a chance they might hit it off. But the thought of another man touching her made every muscle in my body clench. I thought back to the moment in the car when I told her I couldn’t stop. Even now, with all my false bravado, I didn’t know if I could.

Hearing a renewal of greetings and Joel’s voice downstairs, I decided it was time to man up and face the music.

As I cleared the final landing, I saw her. Her back was to me . . . and the air left my lungs.

Her dress was white.

Why did it have to be white?

She was wearing some sort of girly summer thing that stopped right above the knee and showed off her long legs. The top was made of the same material, with little ribbons tying it together at the top of each shoulder. All I could think was how much I would love to pull those ribbons loose and see it all fall around her waist. Or maybe drop to the floor.

Our eyes met across the room and she smiled such a genuine, happy smile that for a second even I believed it. “Hi, Mr. Ryan.”

My lips twitched in amusement, watching her play the part in front of my family. “Miss Mills,” I replied, nodding. Our gaze never broke, even as my mother called everyone onto the patio for drinks before dinner.

As she passed, I turned my head, speaking in a voice low enough that only she could hear. “Successful shopping trip yesterday?”

Her eyes met mine, that same angelic smile on her face. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” She brushed by me, and I felt my entire body stiffen. “And by the way, a new line of garter belts came in,” she whispered before following everyone else outside.

I stopped and my jaw went slack as my mind raced back to our tryst in the dressing room at La Perla.

Up ahead, Joel leaned in close to her. “I really hope you didn’t mind the flowers I sent to your office yesterday. I admit it was a bit much, but I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” I felt a knot tighten in my gut as Joel’s words snapped me out of my dirty daydream.

She turned back to look at me. “Flowers? Did I have flowers delivered?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “I left early, remember?” I walked by on my way outside to make myself a Belvedere vodka gimlet.

As the evening wore on, I couldn’t help but keep track of her in my peripheral vision. When dinner finally began, it was apparent that things were going relatively smoothly between her and Joel. She was even flirting with him.

“So Chloe, Mr. and Mrs. Ryan tell me you’re from North Dakota?” Joel’s voice interrupted yet another fantasy—this one of my fist hitting his jaw. I looked over to see him smiling warmly at her.

“That’s right. My dad is a dentist in Bismarck. Never was much of a big-city girl. Even Fargo felt huge to me.” A small chuckle escaped my lips, and her eyes shot to mine. “Amused, Mr. Ryan?”

I smirked as I took a sip of my drink, staring at her from above the rim. “I’m sorry, Miss Mills. I just find it fascinating that you don’t like the city, and yet you choose the third-largest city in the U.S. for college and . . . everything after.”

The look in her eyes told me that under any other circumstances, I would either already be naked with her on top of me, or lying in a pool of my own blood on the rug.

“Actually, Mr. Ryan,” she began, the smile returning to her face, “my father remarried, and since my mother was born here, I came to spend some time with her before she passed.” She stared at me for a moment and I had to admit I felt a hint of guilt twisting in my chest. It was quickly suppressed when she looked back over at Joel, biting her lip in the innocent way that only she could make look so damn sexy.