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His Secret (The Hunter Brothers Book 4) by M. S. Parker (22)

Blake

After spending almost all day in that fucking room, I needed air. My brothers didn’t try to stop me when I walked straight outside. They’d been talking about dinner plans, but I didn’t want to be a part of that, any more than I wanted to be a part of this. I’d given in, on the whole ‘talking things out’ shit, but I’d had enough for the day. I needed some space.

Spring was here, but the weather hadn’t been notified. It hovered in that annoying range between being cold and being warm, and now that the sun was down, the chill was winning. Still, I didn’t go back inside for a jacket. I’d rather be cold and alone than risk one of my brothers deciding they wanted to walk with me. I didn’t know what had gotten into all three of them, but it bugged the hell out of me that they were acting like I’d been a part of whatever had bonded them recently.

I was halfway home when I realized what I was doing. It was tempting to keep going, to lock myself in my house until things went back to normal, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. Better to get it over with now and send them on their way. When our little retreat was over, I’d tell them that they were welcome to my share of the inheritance and they should go back to Boston, get on with their lives.

That’s all I wanted. To have my life back. To not have someone setting expectations that I couldn’t reach. To not feel like I was a disappointment no matter what I did.

Why couldn’t they all just leave me alone?

I walked for more than an hour, aimlessly wandering from a ‘meditation bench’ to a little flower garden, to one of the ranch hand cabins that was still being worked on. They’d done good work, I grudgingly admitted. The place looked great, and if they kept it up, it’d probably attract a lot of people.

Wonderful.

By the time I got back to the house, I’d cooled off literally, but that was about it. Being alone hadn’t helped. I was still frustrated and fighting my temper.

I was hungry, but I wasn’t going to sit down for a meal with my brothers. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to bite my tongue if Jax kept going on with the whole ‘we need to do what Grandfather wanted’ spiel. I’d get a plate from the dining area and eat in my room. Then again, there was a good chance they hadn’t even noticed that I hadn’t come back.

When I reached the door, a flash of car headlights caught my attention. Someone was pulling up the driveway. Maybe my brothers had gone into town to find something to eat, but the car that stopped only a few yards away wasn’t the rental they’d arrived in.

Great. New people.

Except it wasn’t anyone new.

Brea got out of the passenger’s side of the car, and my stomach clenched. She looked great. Where had she been that she’d needed to dress up? Who had she been with?

I didn’t recognize the man who got out of the driver’s side, but he was smiling and laughing with Brea, and that was enough for me to hate him. She turned toward me as the guy moved to put his hand on her back, and I saw red.

Why was he touching her? He didn’t have the right to do that, but she wasn’t pushing him away so maybe he did. But he couldn’t. She and I had been together just two nights ago. Had she really hopped from my bed into his in just two days?

I’d brought her into my home, and she’d lied to me about who she was and why she’d slept with me. I’d told myself I was done with her, but all I could do now was stare at him touching her and try to remember that beating the shit out of him wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.

“Blake.” Her voice was flat. “This is Steve Geraint, my date. Steve, this is Blake Hunter. He and his brothers are staying at the retreat.”

“Blake Hunter?” The guy – Steve – sounded impressed. “I’ve seen your work. You’re amazing.”

I grunted an inarticulate reply. I didn’t give a fuck what he thought about my work. I just wanted him to stop touching Brea.

“Come on,” she said, looking away from me. “I’ll give you the tour on the way to my room.”

Her room. She’d brought this asshole here to fuck him. She wanted me to know what she was doing, or she’d have gone to his place or her apartment in town. No way in hell was I going to let her do that.

I moved directly into their path and glared at Steve.

“You’re not going to her room,” I growled.

“Blake,” she said, a warning in her voice. “This isn’t any of your business.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” I snapped, shifting from him to her. “I don’t want you fucking some pretty boy when I’m right upstairs.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Steve held up his hands, palms out. “I don’t know what I got in the middle of, but I’m not having sex with her.”

“Damn right,” I said.

He looked between me and Brea. “I mean, we weren’t planning on it.”

I pointed at him. “Shut up.”

“Stop being an ass,” Brea said, her usually bright features dark and cloudy. “Get out of our way.”

“No,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’m not letting him anywhere near your bedroom.”

Brea sighed and turned to Steve. “Thank you for dinner, and for driving me out here to get my keys. I’m sorry about the asshat who won’t let us inside. I’ll give you a tour some other time.”

I started to take a step forward but then thought better of it.

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Steve asked, his eyes flicking to me, then back to Brea.

I had to give him credit for not turning tail and running away, but it wasn’t much credit. He was still being too friendly with Brea, and I didn’t like it. I told myself it was only because they were moving too fast, but even as I said it, I knew it was hypocritical of me. After all, we’d fucked after our first date. Maybe that was normal for her. I didn’t know.

“I’ll be fine,” she said to him. “I’ll stay here tonight and have one of my parents take me to town to get my car tomorrow. You go ahead home.”

He shot me one more look, then went back to his car. Brea waited until he was halfway down the drive before she turned on me, eyes flashing.

“We’re having this all out,” she said. “Because I’m not wasting any more of my time with this. We’re not doing it out here though. Follow me.”

Dammit. I’d fucked up. Again. When I’d seen that guy, I hadn’t stopped to think about whether it was a good idea to say something. I hadn’t been thinking of anything except the fact that I didn’t want his hands on her. I should’ve just left her alone and kept my distance.

One of the smaller rooms across from the dining area had been changed into a library, and that was where Brea took me. She didn’t say anything until she’d closed the door and turned back to me. Her usually bright expression was dark, and there was something in her eyes I didn’t recognize.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” She was keeping her voice low, probably to keep from disturbing everyone else.

I folded my arms and scowled at her. “I was just looking out for you.”

“Looking out for me? That’s what you’re going with? Really?” She made a disgusted sound. “What exactly were you afraid was going to happen to me that I couldn’t handle?”

“He had his hands on you,” I said mulishly.

“And if I hadn’t wanted him to touch me, I would’ve told him so,” she countered. “Not that it’s any of your damn business.”

She’d wanted him to touch her. Jealousy flared up, burning so hot that I couldn’t think of anything else. “I forgot. You have no problem fucking a guy on the first date.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew it had been the absolute wrong thing to say.

Color flooded her face. “You bastard,” she whispered.

“Brea,” I started.

She didn’t let me get any further. “I slept with you because I thought we had a real connection, that you were actually a decent guy under that gruff exterior. Obviously, I was mistaken, because a decent guy wouldn’t have said that. He wouldn’t have even thought, it.”

Guilt rushed through me. She was right. A decent guy wouldn’t have thought it. I was a bastard.

Even as I watched, she seemed to collect herself, and I wondered if this was it, the moment she was going to walk away from me for good.

“Look.” Her voice was calmer now. “I get that this isn’t really how you usually do things, but I don’t deserve to be treated the way you’ve treated me. You made accusations about me, questioned my character.”

The more she talked, the worse I felt, but I didn’t stop her. I deserved everything she was saying and more.

She took a step toward me, and I could feel the warring emotions coming off her. She was still pissed at me, but there was something else there too. Something different. “I know you have baggage. Everyone does. But you can’t let it drive people away.”

I clenched my jaw. I should’ve known she was going to go there. It was always all about the feelings and coming to terms with your past and making things right and all that shit. Why couldn’t she just accept me like I was?

No. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want her. I just wanted my life back.

“I should walk away,” she said. “That would be the healthier thing to do. Walk away from all of this. Focus on my work like I’ve been doing for years. Let you keep going on your self-destructive path.”

Right. Because what she was doing was so much better.

“I don’t want to do that,” she said, her voice softening. “No matter how angry I am at you right now, I still think there’s something between us. A connection that I can’t explain. I think you feel it too.”

No, I didn’t. There was nothing to feel. We’d had sex. That was it. Nothing more.

“But I refuse to do this dance,” she continued. “I need to know, right now, if you want something from whatever this is between us. That you’re going to talk to me. For real. We’re going to do more than have sex and make small talk.”

Shit.

I’d expected her to be furious, to yell at me, tell me to fuck off. I hadn’t expected this.

“If that’s not what you want, fine,” she continued, “but this is where it either begins or ends. If you walk away now, we go our separate ways for good.”

The thought of never being with her again, of having to watch her with other men, made me want to hit something, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her either. Not about the personal stuff. Besides, if she really liked me, why would she want me to be anything other than who I was?

After nearly a full minute of silence, during which I couldn’t look at her, but I could feel her watching me, she stepped past me and left the library without a word.

That could have gone better.

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