Sins of My Father (Black Brothers #1) (6 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Langley

“You know I really hate this place. Why’d you change our plans at the last second?” Winnie asked as we elbowed our way through the wall of people to get a drink. Finding a table or a chair would be unlikely.

“Long story,” I said, groaning as someone’s drink splashed on my arm.

“If you’re going to subject me to this scene when we planned to have a drink at the restaurant bar before we ate dinner, you need to offer an explanation.” She glared at me over her shoulder. “I’m starving by the way, and there is no way in hell I’m going to touch the toxic pretzel, nut combination.” She visibly shivered.

“Fine.” We managed to snag two stools at the bar. I draped my purse over my lap. “We’re meeting Archer here.”

Her eyebrows scaled her forehead. “And he picked this bar.”

“No. I picked it.”

“Seriously?”

“He called me as I was leaving the office. He wanted to meet.”

“So, you immediately decided that because I hate The Nine Bar, he should meet us here.”

“Not exactly. I told him I had plans, and I’d call him in five days or not.” Actually, at the time, part of me wanted nothing more than to meet him for a drink and dinner. But the other part of me—the part that didn’t have any problem ignoring his velvety, smooth voice and the memory of his lips against mine—pleaded with me to avoid leaping into a romantic entanglement with Archer. My relationship with Brandon took a sickening turn after six months of envisioning a future with him, and no matter how nebulous, I didn’t like Archer’s connection to my stepdad.

“Oh.” Winnie slapped me on the arm. “That’s good.”

I smiled. “I thought so, but he wouldn’t let it go, and before I knew it, I had promised him a hint of where we planned to go. If he found us, I’d give him a second chance. If not, then he promised to delete my number.” With my index finger, I spun the rectangular coaster on the counter in circles until the beer label resembled a cardboard kaleidoscope. “The Nine Bar was the first thing that popped into my head.”

“So here we are.”

“Yep, that’s about it.”

“You know what I think?” she asked, her light blue eyes twinkling.

I rolled my eyes. “Do I want to know?”

“Whatever.” She waved her hand in front of her. “If he likes this lame ass bar, you should dump him on the spot. Don’t even offer an explanation. I mean, look at the guys that frequent this place.”

Casually, I glanced to the side, down the length of the bar. Slicked back hair, jeans tighter than my tightest pair, thighs smaller than mine, and skintight shirts were just a few glaring things that had my gag reflex on high alert. Call me a throwback to fifties, but I liked real men—muscles and testosterone included—not men that shared my jean size and cried at chick flicks. “I see what you mean.”

“White wine?” she asked when the bartender paused in front of us, his hands on his hips.

“No. I need something stronger. Grey Goose on the rocks with a twist of lime.”

“Make it two,” Winnie said, and then she swiveled on her stool to face me. “So are you nervous to see Archer?”

I rubbed my hands up and down my thighs. “A little. I had written him off and then he called. I don’t know what to expect.”

“Don’t expect anything. It’s better for the ego.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said as I lifted the lowball glass to my lips.

Not two minutes later, two warm hands landed on my shoulders.

“I didn’t know if you really meant for me to meet you at nine at The Nine Bar. If so, I’m a couple hours early.”

“Archer,” I said, glancing at him over my shoulder. Like the night I met him, his six foot two body was dressed in a dark, custom fit suit that emphasized his lean muscled body. My heart ricocheted off the walls of my chest, and my stomach freefell through my adnominal cavity. I willed my body to remain unaffected and calm, but the winged creatures in my stomach refused to be tamed. This man did crazy things to me.

“Langley,” he responded, his heated dark stare melting me in a pile of mush. He held my eyes for a moment. Electricity ping-ponged in the air around us, buzzing like cicadas in late summer.
Kiss me,
my stupid, love-struck alter ego silently begged. His lips curved into a half smile, and any lingering reservations about Archer sunk faster than the Titanic.

Like a moon succumbing to the gravitational pull of a planet, my body tilted toward his. My eyes fluttered. My lips tingled, imagining the moment of impact.

Closer.

Closer.

So close, I saw the gold specks in his irises.

Then, bam…Winnie cleared her throat. I shook my head, dislodging the Archer-induced fog filling my brain.

“Winnie, this is Archer,” I said, blood rushing to my face. Thank God the bar was dimly lit.

“Nice to meet you.” Archer shook her hand.

“Just one friend?” Archer asked, refocusing his mind-wilting attention on me.

“I thought I’d go easy on you.” I shrugged. “Besides, I didn’t want to promise an army of friends free drinks and dinner if you didn’t show.”

“I told you I’d find you.” He squeezed my shoulders and then dropped his hands to his sides.

“You did, but you also said we’d go to lunch this week.” I should have let the topic die a fiery death. After all, he found me, and I owed him a second chance. Hell, I wanted to give him a second chance. How could I refuse him when my body lit up like I had fireflies in my veins anytime I got within five feet of him or his silky voice?

He leaned forward and brushed my hair to the side. “The last time I looked at a calendar, a week consisted of seven days.”

“Yeah. So?” I tensed my muscles to stave off the shiver that rolled through my body as his warm breath wafted over the microscopic hairs on my neck. It didn’t work. Evidently, controlling involuntary body reactions was impossible.

“So, will you join me for lunch tomorrow?” he whispered.

With his lips a pesky inch from my ear, I nodded like a star struck groupie drinking in his mesmeric essence. Eyes wide. Mouth parted. Cheeks flushed. Pathetic.

“Good. So do you want to stay for another drink or go to dinner?” Archer asked. He propped his foot on the bottom rung of my barstool and the fabric of his pants brushed against my bare leg.

“Is something wrong with this place?” Winnie asked, smiling over the rim of her glass. I barely restrained the urge to roll my eyes. Here went her test.

His eyes darted toward Winnie. Then, he focused all his chocolaty, smoldering heat back on me. “It’s not really my type of place, but if Langley wants to stay, I don’t mind. Whatever Langley wants…” His voice trailed off, a suggestive smirk on his face. His lips were made for sweaty nights and sin.

“Thank God. Let’s get out of this place.” Winnie hopped out of her chair so fast, you’d think she’d won the lottery.

Archer chuckled. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Nine isn’t our usual stomping ground,” I said.

“I need to make reservations for dinner. Meet me outside in ten minutes.” He handed me a fifty-dollar bill. “Will this cover it?”

I eyed the money. “You don’t have to pay for our drinks.”

Winnie snagged the money out of his hand. “If he’s offering, who am I to reject his generosity?”

Archer’s lips skimmed across my forehead. “See you in a couple minutes.” I watched the back of his head. Even after he disappeared from my line of sight, I could pinpoint his location from the women’s heads boomeranging in his direction.

“I’m taking off. You guys can go to dinner without me.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, searching Winnie’s eyes.

She smiled and leaned forward, so her mouth was inches from my ear. “I’m in the way. Archer likes you. I mean really likes you.”

My heart tripped over itself. “How can you tell?”

“He ran all over town looking for you. He graciously agreed to hang out with you and your friend without complaint.”

“I’m not sure. I thought Brandon liked me.”

“No, Brandon liked the idea of you and what you could mean for his career.”

“Maybe Archer feels the same way.”

“Not even close. Have you seen the way he looks at you?” She fanned her face. “Within seconds of arriving, he had mentally undressed you at least twice.

I nearly choked on my drink. “Shut up.”

“I’m jealous. It was like watching porn, but live.”

“Did you really say that?”

“I did.” She kissed me on the cheek as she squeezed my hand. “Have fun and fuck your stepdad.”

I cringed. “Don’t say that. I think my vodka just reversed course.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not literally, but who cares what he thinks? He liked Brandon.”

“So?”

“Brandon is like the head of the douche cavalry.”

“The douche cavalry? Are you serious?”

She shrugged. “Hey, it sounded good in my head. Let’s go find Archer and a taxi for me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I leaned into her. “I don’t mind. This was supposed to be a girls’ night out.”

She scrunched up her face. “Ah, yeah. I’m not lonely enough to spend a Friday night as the third wheel on your date with Mr. Dark, Sexy, and Filthy Rich.”

CHAPTER TEN

Archer

“If you have a driver, why’d you take a taxi the night we met? Was it his night off or something?” Langley asked as she hopped into the backseat of the black town car. Her slim black skirt slid up her impressively toned legs.

I could’ve answered her question with a simple confirmation, or I could tell her the truth. I went with the truth. “I sent him home. I wanted to share a taxi with you.”

Her eyes locked on mine, assessing, contemplating. I loosened my tie and pulled it over my head, dropping it on my briefcase. In the rush to find Langley, I hadn’t bothered to stop home and change my clothes. When the silence lengthened, I braced for an inevitable sassy comment.

“I’m glad you did.” She smiled. “So what do you have planned for dinner now that Winnie ditched us?”

I’d have to find a way to thank her friend sometime in the future. I wasn’t opposed to including Winnie in our dinner plans, but I preferred to be alone with Langley.

“Originally, I planned to take you to The Bar Café in Adams Morgan, but if you don’t mind, I’d prefer to grab take-out and eat it at my place.” Honestly, I should stick with the plan to meet her in public. I needed to push Senator Wharton, draw him out, and make him reckless. I couldn’t do that by keeping my budding relationship with Langley secret, but I didn’t want to be in public right now, and I had every reason to believe that Senator Wharton had someone trailing Langley anyway. Now that I thought about it, taking her to my house might be more effective than being photographed together.

“I’m not sure we’re ready—”

I held up my hand, interrupting her train of thought the second her mind went
there
. Sure, if she wanted to go there, I was game, but I didn’t want to risk having her crawling back into her shell and rejecting me entirely—not until I got what I wanted, what I needed. “I don’t have an ulterior motive. It’s been a long week, and, to be truthful, I’d rather spend time with you where we can relax.” I ran my hand through my hair for the hundredth time since I walked out of my office in search of Langley. I’m pretty sure it had long since lost any style, and I resembled a mental patient more than number five on last year’s D.C.’s most eligible bachelors list. Not that I cared, I hated that fucking title. I wished I’d gone with my initial gut instinct and refused to be part of the article. I didn’t bust my ass to impress anyone else. I did it so I had the power to take down Senator Wharton when the time came.

“It was that bad, huh?”

“You can’t imagine.” I shook my head. “But let’s not talk about work.”

“Okay. Then, it’s settled. We’re eating take-out at your house.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. Spending time with you in private isn’t a sacrifice.”

A wholly unexpected sharp pain tugged at my chest. “Most women I’ve dated would disagree with you.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Then, you must have a habit of dating the wrong women.”

“There might be more truth in that statement than I’d like to admit.” I draped my arm over the back of the oyster-colored leather seat and pulled Langley closer to me. I didn’t want to like her. It’d make everything I needed to do so much easier if I didn’t like or respect her, but I didn’t have a choice. Something about her called to me like no woman I’d ever met.

I should reevaluate and revise my plans. Wanting Langley like this was dangerous. She made me lose focus on the end goal. This entire week she had monopolized too many of my thoughts, and even after five days, my desire to call her, see her, and touch her hadn’t faded.

“Hey,” she said, rubbing her fingers between my eyebrows. She shifted closer so her leg pressed against mine from my hip to my knee. Her perfume invaded my senses, and her whisper-like touch lit up my nerve endings. “You’re thinking too hard. Relax.”

“Work stress,” I murmured, distracted by the look on her face. Her eyes were soft. Her chin angled downward. Fuck, she looked like she cared…cared about me. I didn’t remember the last time someone truly worried whether I was stressed, tired, or sad. Maybe mom had before she traveled so far down the road of self-pity she couldn’t see anything but herself. Even before then, any respect and love she had for Knox and me came second to my mom’s love of whiskey and amoral men. Except for Knox, the people in my life only valued what I could do for their career, their life, their bank account, or their social status.

Langley pulled her phone out of her purse. “Where do you live? I’ll order us some food.”

“There’s a sushi restaurant in my building. It’s convenient if you like sushi.”

She twirled her phone in her grasp. “In your building? Where do you live? At a hotel?”

“Almost. The Residences at the Ritz-Carlton.”

Her eyebrows scaled her forehead. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey.” I squeezed her leg. “It’s convenient. I split my time between New York and D.C. I don’t the like maintenance that comes with owning a home, and the residences have a concierge, a maintenance service, and a valet.”

“Well, aren’t you special?” She scoffed, but her lips twitched with what I hoped was laughter and not disdain. “And I thought my two-bedroom townhome was impressive.”

“I assure you, it was.”

She elbowed the side of my ribcage. “You didn’t see anything except the front door.”

“And the kitchen,” I reminded her. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing a little more in the future.” As I said the words, I realized the truth in that statement. I wanted to see more of Langley—her house, her friends, and everything that was important to her, which was dangerous. I needed to stop spinning fantasies about this woman, because the spark burning between us wouldn’t mean anything when reality came knocking at our door, and it would happen sooner rather than later. Then, we’d be enemies for life. And being enemies with benefits wasn’t a place I wanted to go with Langley, no matter the overwhelming attraction. After all, attraction faded and dulled with time no matter how hot it sizzled in the beginning. I hoped the shelf life on my fascination with Langley wasn’t any different.

Simply put, I wanted to destroy the life she’d known for the last decade, dismantling it either brick by brick or with a bomb. It didn’t matter to me as long as it ended with
his
complete disgrace and the loss of everything he held dear in his life. Langley wouldn’t roll over and let me ruin her life and her family without a word. Our roles were scripted years ago, and nothing could alter it.

In spite of her gentle smiles, perfect curves, and toned to perfection legs, I had to keep everything in perspective. Ultimately, she was a spoiled rich girl with a famous actor, albeit deceased, for a dad, a social climbing bitch for a mother, and morally bankrupt stepdad. Her sweet demeanor and million dollar smile were a façade to get what she wanted.

To most women, I was nothing more than a healthy financial statement. Carefully crafted words wouldn’t disguise the money signs twinkling in their jaded eyes. I couldn’t let myself believe Langley was any different.

“I’d like that too,” she said, leaning into me.

Off balance from my moody train of thought, it took me a moment to register her comment.

“Good.” Forcing a smile on my face, I reached for the door handle when the car stopped next to the curb in front of the Ritz. “We’re here.”