Chapter Two
FOR THE FIRST time in as long as Brett could remember, Saturday sucked. Carson and Dylan both blew him off for their morning run, so he pushed through six miles on his own. Usually that was no big deal, but without his brothers to distract him, he was stuck listening to his own thoughts, which all revolved around Sophie. He’d finally broken through her barriers, finally had her in his arms, and he’d seen—felt—her resolve to keep her distance withering away. He’d gotten so lost in her, the restlessness that had been his constant companion since he was a kid had lifted. He had it all within his grasp—one night with Sophie—and he’d blown it. He’d relived those last moments at her door a thousand times as he’d pounded out a grueling two-hour workout following his run, and he’d given himself shit for not taking the kiss he’d been dying for. The gleam of interest in her eyes had never wavered, but something strange had lodged in his chest when he stood at her door and she blinked up at him with her trusting blue eyes. Or maybe it was in his head. He couldn’t be sure, because it felt a hell of a lot like it had taken up residence in both areas. Whatever it was had kept him from pushing her toward what he knew they both wanted, and he’d spent all damn day trying to figure out why.
Now, as the evening rolled in, he sat at the bar in NightCaps, and the irritation still clung to him like a second skin.
A host of beautiful women slinked around the bar, fluttering their lashes and thrusting out their assets, some probably hoping for free drinks, others hoping for a hookup, while still others, like the redhead at the end of the bar sizing up all the guys in suits, were probably hoping for a diamond ring. Not one woman piqued his interest.
How could they when Sophie has imprinted herself in my fucking mind?
If he didn’t get Sophie out of his head he was going to lose his shit. He took a long pull of his beer, then rubbed his hand against his thigh, trying to forget the lingering feel of Sophie’s softness against it.
“You look like hell,” Dylan said as he pushed a beer across the bar. “Tiffany said she saw you leave with Sophie last night. Did you two finally get together?”
“We had a good time,” he answered vaguely.
“Seriously? I guess I just lost ten bucks.” Dylan wiped down the bar with a concerned look on his face.
“Who’d you bet? Carson?”
“No, Tiff. She was sure you’d sway Sophie to the sinful side. My money was on Sophie. I can’t believe she finally gave in to you. I guess I’m happy for you, because you’ve been trying to get with her for so long, but don’t hurt her, man. She’s Mick’s assistant, and neither he nor Sophie need trouble.”
“Fuck, Dyl. I’m not a dick.” A stab of guilt sliced through him. Whether that guilt was caused by Dylan believing they’d hooked up when they hadn’t, or because Dylan knew that when it came to women, Brett was a once-and-done type of guy, he didn’t know or care. The guilt lodged in his chest, digging deeper with every thought of her.
Dylan cocked a brow.
“Okay, I can be a dick, but I wasn’t. Sophie and I had a good time, but we didn’t hook up.”
“That’s probably a good thing, considering you’re working in Mick’s office Monday,” Dylan reminded him. There had been a rash of hacks into celebrity cell phones and computers, including two of Mick’s clients. Even though Brett and Carson’s company, Elite Security, had ensured Mick’s proprietary data was locked down tighter than Fort Knox and none of Mick’s files had been hacked, they were testing the systems just to be sure.
“I wouldn’t call it a ‘good thing,’ but whatever.” He didn’t want to think about seeing Sophie dressed in tight skirts and low-cut blouses. He’d been drawn to her incredible figure since the first time he’d set his eyes on her, but it was her intelligence and quick wit that had kept his interest. Sophie had it all—brains, beauty, humor, and those insightful, sexy blue eyes that stuck with him long after she turned him down. Or I walked away. Goddamn fool.
Dylan went to tend to a customer and Brett pulled out his phone, debating sending Sophie a text. They’d long ago exchanged numbers, but he’d always held back from using hers. It was one thing to tempt her when the opportunity arose in person, but he knew himself well enough to realize that once he opened the door to twenty-four-hour access, he’d have a hard time holding back until he got what he wanted.
Fuck it. He was done pissing and moaning about not taking his chance when he’d had it. He wasn’t a sit-around-and-wait type of guy. He was ready to play with fire. As he typed a text to Sophie—Miss me yet?—he told himself it was to get her out of his system once and for all.
He took another swig of his beer, and his phone vibrated. His heart leapt at the sight of Sophie’s name on the screen. He couldn’t open and read the message fast enough. I’m surrounded by a bunch of stuffy people at a wine tasting. Even your come-ons would be better than this.
As he conjured a host of dirty responses, a vision of Sophie as they’d said good night floated into his mind. He clenched his teeth against the squirrely feeling in his gut and typed, I’ve got a bottle of red from France with your name on it.
Her response was immediate. Did you have to erase someone else’s name to write mine in?
He hated the sting that accompanied her jibe. Before he could type a response, “Thrive!” rang through the bar. The cheer pulled Brett’s attention from his thoughts. He spotted his buddy Dex Remington, founder of Thrive Entertainment, one of the country’s leading PC game design firms, moving through the crowd. Dex waved to the people in the back of the bar who had called out the cheer. It was how his employees had greeted him since they began hanging out there.
Dex sidled up beside Brett at the bar.
“How’s it going?” Brett asked as Dylan came to take Dex’s order.
“Can’t complain.” Dex slapped Brett on the shoulder, then reached across the bar and tapped fists with Dylan. “Can I get a round of our usual?”
Brett’s phone vibrated again, and he glanced at the text from Sophie. 99 bottles of wine on the wall…He could think of ninety-nine ways he’d like to help alleviate her boredom.
“Coming right up,” Dylan said. “Where’s Ellie tonight?”
“She and Siena went shopping. Did I tell you Ellie’s three months pregnant?” Ellie was Dex’s wife, and Siena was his twin sister.
“Man, that’s awesome,” Brett said. “Congratulations.”
“Congrats, man,” Dylan said.
“Thanks. We’re stoked,” Dex said as Dylan filled his order. “We just had dinner with Kurt. He’s heading over to Pages bookstore, so I stopped by to have a drink with Mitch and Regina.” Mitch and Regina worked for Dex.
“Kurt’s at Pages tonight?” Brett asked as he typed a text to Sophie. Where are you?
“Yeah. Ellie’s friend works there, and when she found out he was in town, she asked him to do an impromptu reading. Want to join us for a drink?”
Brett’s phone vibrated, and a quick glance told him where to find Sophie. “I’ve got to run, but thanks. Good seeing you. And congrats.” He patted Dex on the back and headed for the door.
IF SOPHIE HAD to listen to one more stuffed shirt talk about bouquets and aeration she was going to lose her mind. She’d hoped the plethora of well-dressed, handsome men and wine would offer a much-needed distraction from the brazen man who had kept her up all night—or rather, had left her reeling and wondering why he hadn’t tried to keep her up all night. But the minute these guys opened their mouths, all that came out was pretentiousness. Sophie knew how to dress the part of high-fashion city girl, and she enjoyed living in the Big Apple, but she was still a small-town girl at heart. She didn’t give two hoots about summering in Italy, and she didn’t have a love affair with wine. If it tasted good, she’d drink it. And if not, she’d choose something else.
Like a Dirty Girl Scout.
Her mouth watered with the thought of that delicious drink, but her body heated up with the memory of the dirty playboy who had bought it for her.
And danced with me.
And walked me home.
And didn’t kiss me.
She’d felt her biggest distraction’s touch long after he’d dropped her off last night, and it had been his voice whispering in her ear as she’d pleasured herself in an effort to stop thinking about him. The short-lived relief had only left her wishing it had been him doing the deed.
She glanced down at her phone. She’d been shocked, and delighted, when she’d received Brett’s text, but now a wave of disappointment washed through her at the sight of the blank screen.
She’d spent half the night dissecting their interactions, wondering if there was something wrong with her, and the other half thankful that he hadn’t pushed her to sleep with him. She’d hoped the morning would bring clarity to her lust-addled brain. After all, she had no one-night stand to regret. But after hours of remembering how he’d held her, how tempting his body had felt, and the sensual way he’d spoken, when the sun rose, she was still muddled with confusion. As if that wasn’t enough to turn her inside out, the look in his eyes when they’d stood outside her apartment last night, when he’d said, Sleep well, Sexy Sophie. Thanks for an incredible night, had only made her want him more.
Great. Now she’d never stop thinking about him.
She closed her eyes, telling herself to focus on the boring conversations going on around her. The ones that made her want to gouge her eyes out. That might be better than fantasizing about a man who admittedly is allergic to commitment.
“There you are, Pookie Bear.”
Sophie’s eyes flew open at the sound of Brett’s deep voice. Holy cow. What was he doing there? And who the hell was Pookie Bear? He stood at the far side of the room, devilishly handsome in a black dress shirt and slacks, and so focused on her, she wanted to be his Pookie Bear.
He wasted no time eating up the distance between them, carrying himself with such a commanding air of self-confidence he drew the attention of the women and men in the room. His arm swept around Sophie’s waist, and he grinned at her. “I have been looking all over for you. Are you ready to go, Pooks?”
Go? Pooks? “What are you doing here?” she whispered.
He pressed his cheek to hers as he led her toward the door and said, “Saving your fine ass from the worst night of your life.”
Ten minutes later they were laughing in the back of a cab. “I can’t believe you did that! I’d been trying to figure out a way to leave for an hour, but every time I started to, someone would rope me into a conversation. I swear, if I had to watch one more person swish wine around their mouth before swallowing, I would have lost my mind.”
His lips curved up in a lustful grin. “I think you’d better not use words like swallow around me right now.”
“Right now, or ever?”
“How about we say right now.” He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
She tried to move out from under his arm, but he held on tight. “Does this surprise have anything to do with us being naked?”
“Oh, baby, you know how to make me crazy.”
“No. I just know what you’re really like.”
“Do you?” His expression turned serious. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m really like?”
“Seriously?” She stared out the window at the passing lights of the city, turning over responses in her mind. It was Saturday night. Shouldn’t he have moved on to a sure thing by now?
“Yes.”
He curled his hand around her shoulder, and when she turned toward him, he was right there, as close as he’d been last night when they were dancing. His breath carried the faint scent of spearmint, and she had the urge to taste it. She really needed to get over this infatuation before she got herself in trouble.
He raised his brows expectantly, and she realized he was still waiting for an answer.
“Okay, fine. What are you like? You’re funny, smart, you love your family, and you are hotter than any man I’ve ever known.” The words fell fast and easy from her lips, but they were the truth, and she didn’t want to take them back.
“I think I misjudged you,” he said indulgently. “You’ve got an excellent handle on me.”
“I wasn’t finished,” she said, as much to herself as to him, because the way he’d danced with her last night, and swooped in tonight and saved her, made her heart take note, and that was not a good thing. It was dangerous, because if he’d pushed last night, she was pretty sure she would have finally given in. And then this morning would have brought a whole different type of worrying.
She forced that realization aside and said, “You’re all those things, which makes you very tempting, but you’re also arrogant, a shameless flirt, and you collect one-night stands like other people collect stamps or baseball cards.”
He winced. “Stamps or baseball cards?”
“It was the only thing I could think of under pressure.” She smiled, thinking she saw a flash of sorrow in his eyes, but that might have been wishful thinking, because when she looked closer, it was gone. “The truth is, you’re a great guy in many ways, and I’ve been into you for a long time. But we’re on opposite ends of the life-goal spectrum. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t ever want to feel like I need to compete for someone’s affection. I still hold out hope that one day I’ll meet a special man who wants the same things as I do.”
He reached up and caressed her cheek. “And what do you want, Soph?”
She sighed at the intimate touch. It would be so much easier if he wore dark sunglasses so she didn’t have to see that look in his eyes. The one that told her he really wanted to hear her answers.
“I want all the things you don’t. Marriage, babies, to look in to the same man’s eyes for all my years and know I’ll love him more with every passing second. And that those feelings will be reciprocated, no matter what temptations come his way.”
“You deserve all those things.” The honesty in his eyes had her anxiously awaiting his next words. His gaze moved slowly over her face, lingering on her mouth. “But before you settle for any man”—he brushed his thumb over her lower lip—“it’s only right that you experience the best man, the only man, who can exceed your darkest fantasies and pleasure you so thoroughly, you’ll hear my voice in the wind, feel my touch when we’re miles apart.”
The cab pulled over, but Sophie was too stunned to respond, much less move. How did he make her want to experience him like that? Knowing he was offering only one night of pleasure? Ugh. She’d probably go straight to hell, but she wanted that one night.
She tried to pull herself together as Brett paid the driver. He stepped from the cab, offering her his hand with a pleased-with-himself smile. “Come on, sweet stuff. Let’s go check out your surprise.”
As he brought her to her feet she said, “You mean there’s more than just blowing me away in the back of a cab?”
He chuckled. “If you call that being blown away, your bar is set way too low. I’m going to take great pleasure in fixing that so you don’t end up short-changing yourself.”
“Oh my, isn’t that gracious of you?” she said sarcastically. “Where are we going?”
“The bookstore.” He pulled open the door to Pages and motioned for her to walk through.
“Brett Bad is taking me to a bookstore? What’s really going on?” She reached up and felt his forehead. “No fever. Are they having Fifty Shades night or something?”
“Jesus, Soph. I’m not one-dimensional.”
Brett took her hand and led her toward a crowd in the back of the store. She loved Pages because it was not only the largest bookstore in the city, but it wasn’t all vamped up the way most big outlets were. The floors were scuffed hardwood, like they’d been there forever, and antique velvet sofas and chairs were placed at odd angles and in nooks throughout the store. Simple wooden tables lined the front windows like a coffee shop, even though they offered no food or beverages. The chemical scent of new books and what Sophie thought of as the aura of happy readers hung in the air. Just walking into bookstores lifted her spirits, but walking into a bookstore with Brett was like walking into a sex shop with a nun. They didn’t fit together.
“Brett, what’s going on?” she asked quietly.
Brett winked, guiding her around the perimeter of the crowd, until he found a gap and then he moved behind her, holding her by the shoulders as he steered her toward the front of the group. She peered around a gray-haired man and gasped at the sight of Kurt Remington standing at a podium reading from one of his books.
She spun around, feeling light-headed. “It’s Kurt Remington!” she whispered excitedly. “You brought me to see Kurt Remington!”
A collective “Shh” brought her hand over her mouth. She dropped her hand and mouthed, Thank you, to Brett.
His smile radiated all the way up to his eyes, softening his rough edges and making him even more handsome, but it was the genuine nature of the smile that captivated her. Gone was the player mask that threw sparks and seemed to always be planning his next move. He gently turned her by the hips so she was facing Kurt, but she looked over her shoulder at Brett, wanting to savor the sight of this side of him, for fear she might never get another glimpse.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and whispered, “Surprise, Sexy Sophie.”
Brett’s voice didn’t carry its usual illicitness of sexual promiscuity he used when trying to railroad her into the bedroom. She didn’t step away, because suddenly everything felt different, as it had last night when they were dancing. She tried to concentrate on Kurt as he eloquently conveyed the emotions of his characters, but she was having trouble reconciling the man who had tracked her down and surprised her with this incredible event with the one who made nonstop sexual innuendos.
Brett held her during the entire reading, making it tough for her to let go of the hope that maybe there truly was another side of him. His touch was warm and comfortable, as if they had been a couple forever, and he wasn’t groping or whispering propositions. Was this the man she saw lingering beneath the lust in his eyes? She told herself not to pick it apart, just to enjoy the moment, because this Brett, this thoughtful, not-on-a-sexual-mission man, would have long ago won her over.
After the reading, as the crowd applauded, Sophie turned to thank Brett and found him gazing at her entrancingly. Neither one said a word, and the magnetism of the moment amplified. He took both her hands in his, and she readied for the kiss she’d missed out on last night. She didn’t care that they were in the middle of a bookstore, or that it would be a kiss from a man who might be incapable of ever giving her more. She wanted that kiss, and this time she wasn’t going to spend the night wondering why she didn’t get it. She went up on her toes as he pushed a hand beneath her hair, drawing her forward. Spearmint and the unique scent of Brett coalesced, and she closed her eyes. Someone brushed against her shoulder, and her eyes flew open as she stumbled sideways. In the blink of an eye, Brett’s gaze turned sharp and threatening, as impressive as it was intimidating.
“Hey,” Brett snapped at the offender as he caught Sophie around the waist and held her against him.
“Sorry,” the guy said, and joined the line of people waiting to meet Kurt.
She turned back to Brett, hating that their connection had been interrupted, but she was too nervous to try to find her way back to it. She waved awkwardly toward the line and said, “We should…Would you mind if I got an autograph?”
“That’s why we’re here.” Brett’s gaze flicked to the guy again as they stepped into line. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze moved over the room as if he expected there to be trouble at any minute. That aggression, and his sexual bravado, were part of what set him apart from any other man.
Sophie realized with surprise that she was as attracted to those parts of him as she was to the side that had brought her here tonight.
Kurt took the time to chat with each and every person who had come out to see him. He spoke quietly, as if he were more comfortable reading in character than absorbing the attention of fans. The pictures in the back of his books didn’t do him justice. His blue eyes were set off by thick dark hair and refined features. He was handsome, as the women in front of them were remarking, but he didn’t hold a candle to Brett. She stole another glance at Brett. The sharpness she’d seen had softened. He smiled and brushed his fingers over hers. It was such a gentle touch, it took her off guard, and her pulse quickened again.
When it was their turn, Kurt looked up and his eyes widened. “Brett. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Kurt’s smile was open and friendly as he came around the table and embraced him.
He turned that disarming smile to Sophie, and when she opened her mouth to greet him, her fangirl slipped out. “Wow. Kurt Remington. Ohmygod. I can’t…Your books…”
He and Brett both laughed.
“I think what Sophie is trying to say is that she adores your books.” Brett put his hand on the small of Sophie’s back as if he knew she needed grounding. His touch helped bring her down from the clouds, and she managed what she hoped was a normal, not a fangirl, smile.
“Yeah, I got that.” Kurt smiled. “Don’t worry. It happens a lot. But what readers don’t realize is that I’m just as nervous as you are. Even after years of meeting fans, I still get a thrill when someone tells me, or can’t tell me,” he said with an appreciative glimmer in his eyes, “how much they love my books. Thank you for reading them. It means the world to me.”
“I really love your books. The way you build suspense is incredible. I have to keep all the lights on in my apartment while I read.”
Kurt laughed and glanced at Brett. “At least you can take it. This guy can’t handle thrillers.”
“Maybe all his bravado is just for show,” Sophie teased.
Brett scoffed. “She loves my bravado.”
They talked for a few minutes, and when Kurt signed a copy of his most recent release, Brett took a picture with his phone. “Let me get a picture of the two of you.” Brett motioned to Kurt and Sophie. After he took the picture, he asked a salesperson to take a picture of the three of them. He put his arm around Sophie. “A Sophie sandwich,” he whispered in her ear. “Mm. I sure am hungry.”
Quintessential Brett. She had a huge smile in that picture, and she knew she’d treasure it even more than the signed book and photograph with Kurt.
As they left the bookstore, Sophie was on cloud nine again. The fact that Brett had brought her to see not just her favorite author, but the man Grace had told him she dreamed about, underscored just how confident Brett really was, which made him even more appealing.
“Thank you,” she said. “That was incredible.”
He put an arm around her and said, “You can thank me properly later.”
And just like that, the Brett she knew so well returned.