Текст книги "Savor"

Автор книги: Monica Murphy

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“Did you hear that?” he asks, his voice hushed.

Beyond the roaring in my ears brought on by his skilled mouth and my own pleading words, I can’t really hear anything. Oh, there’s the partygoers outside, their chatter a low hum in the quiet confines of his office. A hint of music coming from the hired band but that’s it.

“I swear I heard someone yell my name.” He kisses the tip of my nose, one cheek, then the other. “Sounded like my father,” he whispers.

“Really?” He kisses my forehead, my temple, my ear, my chin. Sweet, soft little kisses that make my lips tingle in anticipation. “I didn’t realize he was coming.”

“I forgot to tell you about it.” He kisses me this time, his lips lingering on mine for long, delicious moments before he finally breaks it. “I didn’t think he’d show up. More like I hoped he wouldn’t show up.”

I’m surprised that he would even invite him. Last I heard from Ivy, their relationship was strained at best.

And then I hear it. A loud, rough bellow:

“Matthew DeLuca, where the fuck are you, son?”

Matt hears it too—who couldn’t? His entire body goes still and he pulls away, leaving me. I’m immediately cold without him near.

“That’s him,” he says grimly. “I should go.”

“I’ll go with you. Do you want my help?” I reach for him, but he’s still backing up, pulling completely away from my grip.

He’s withdrawing into himself right before me, and I hate seeing it, though I can’t blame him.

He needs to go subdue his father and quick.

“Just mingle and make sure everyone’s having a good time. I need to go and make sure he doesn’t make an ass out of himself and me and ruin everything,” Matt mutters before he turns tail and flees.

I slump against the wall, my heart thumping wildly, my lips still tingling from his delicious kisses. I need to compose myself. Gather my thoughts and emotions and put on the hostess mask.

I need to help Matt. He’s stressed. The last thing he needs to deal with is his volatile father making a scene.

Putting aside my tumultuous emotions and locking my still-wobbly knees, I stand up straight, smooth my hands over my skirt and head for the courtyard.

Chapter Seven

Matt

“SON! THERE YOU are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” my father says as he stumbles toward me.

“Well, you found me.” I grab hold of my dad’s arm to keep him steady. Smells like someone already hit up a bar before arriving here and disgust fills me. I’m pissed that he would show up to one of the most important nights of my life and my career, drunk as hell.

But what did I expect? Not like he cares about me, or my reputation; he’s such a selfish old bastard.

“Where’s the wine?” he asks loudly, drawing the attention of more than one partygoer. “I want a sample of that shit you’re brewing.”

He can’t even get the terms right. “I think you should lay off the booze for a while,” I say as I try and steer him toward the table laden with food. He needs to eat something and drink some black coffee, anything to soak up all that alcohol coursing through his system and sober him up somewhat.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He jerks his arm out of my hold and heads toward the table I wanted him to go to in the first place, grabs a small plate and starts loading up on endless appetizers.

I follow after him, keeping close, smiling and chatting with everyone I recognize or know. I feel like I can’t leave my father’s side, which is such total bullshit, especially because I had to leave a perfectly willing woman back in my office.

Not that I should’ve been fooling around with a woman in my office when I had a party going on out here but . . .

My mind drifts to Bryn and how good she’d felt in my arms. I’d had my hand beneath her dress only moments ago, touching her breast, playing with her nipple, and she hadn’t protested. No, she’d arched into my touch, little sounds of pleasure escaping her. She looked amazing in that dress, her long hair down, her lips parted as she gasped when I gently pinched.

Hell. I want more. I wanted to take her back to my place, strip her out of that dress and kiss every inch of her naked skin. Instead, I’m babysitting my drunken dad.

Fuck, life is really unfair sometimes.

“Quite the spread you got here,” Dad says, clutching his already overflowing plate. “How much did this cost you anyway?”

Damn it, I want to die of embarrassment, his voice is so loud. “Don’t worry Dad, I have it under control,” I reassure him.

“Little snot, won’t tell me how much money you’re spending on this fancy, good-for-nothing shindig. Not that it matters. I don’t care what you do with your money. I already gave you your piece of my pie but that’s it. I’m cutting you off. You’ll have to earn everything else, fair and square.” He lurches toward me, his plate nearly goes flying, and I take it from him, wait while he readjusts himself and stands up straighter.

White hot anger flows through my veins, setting my blood on fire. I want to kill him. Wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he’s not breathing any longer. Not that I could do such a thing, but every time he acts like this, which is pretty much every time I see him, he makes me hate him more.

It’s a lot more complicated than that though, my relationship with my dad. I also love him. Still seek out his approval despite how much trouble he causes.

And Vinnie DeLuca causes an enormous amount of trouble everywhere he goes.

“Let’s find you somewhere to sit,” I tell my dad, grabbing hold of his arm again and leading him toward the tables where guests sit and eat. He jerks against my hold, muttering a string of curse words in protest, but I ignore him. The old man might be the same size as me, but I’m younger and stronger.

“You’re manhandling me like you’re gonna kick me out of here, son,” he says when I push him into a seat. Thank God this table is empty. I don’t need him spouting off to other guests.

“Just trying to help you out, Dad,” I say through my clenched teeth. Glancing around, I check to see if anyone is watching, specifically anyone from the media, but for the most part, no one’s acknowledging us.

Thank God.

“Mr. DeLuca! It’s a pleasure meeting you.” Bryn appears in front of the table, an angel in magenta clutching a white coffee mug. The smile on her face is as bright as her eyes, and she shoots me a knowing look before she returns her attention to my father.

“Well, well, who’s this pretty young thing?” Dad takes the mug from her and sips, wincing when he discovers what it is. “Coffee?”

“Decaf. And laced with whiskey.” She winks at him, then winks at me, and I know she’s full of absolute crap, just saying that to make him happy. God, I could hug her for this. Kiss her.

Not that I need an excuse to kiss Bryn. My body is still humming from our shared kisses.

“Thank you,” Dad says gratefully as he drinks from the cup, finishing off half of it in a couple of swallows. “It’s good.”

“Miss James is notorious for making the best cup of coffee around,” I say, hoping she can hear the gratitude in my voice.

“You know her, son?”

“She’s my assistant.” I wave a hand between them. “Dad, this is Bryn James. Bryn, this is Vinnie DeLuca.”

“Lovely meeting you.” She takes Dad’s proffered hand, literally batting her eyelashes at him. I swear I hear a hint of her Texas twang when she speaks.

And it’s sexy as hell.

“Likewise.” Dad won’t let go of her hand, and she has to tug out of his hold as discreetly as possible, not that he notices. “You’re a looker, darlin’. Where you from?”

“Why, Cactus, Texas, sir.” More batting of the eyelashes, her voice is syrupy thick with the accent. She’s flirting with my dad and I don’t know if I should be horrified or thankful.

She doesn’t really . . . want to flirt with him, does she?

“Well, what do you know, I met a hot little thing who lived near Cactus years ago, when I was on one of the farm teams. That was a long, long time ago though.” Dad grins, most likely reliving the memory and enjoying the hell out of it.

“I probably know her. Not many people ever leave Cactus,” she says.

“Miss James, can I speak with you for a moment? Privately?” I rest my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “You’ll be all right alone so you can eat, right Dad?”

“Of course. Go handle your business with your Miss James.” Dad waves a hand, cackling wickedly. “You sure are smart son, more than I give you credit for, hiring a looker like this one. I bet you chase her around your desk all the damn time, trying to get your hands on that ass. I know I would.”

Bryn stiffens, her expression frozen with shock. I see it happen right before my eyes. She looks at me, her gaze a little wild, her chest rising and falling with her accelerated breaths.

I have no idea why his words triggered that strong of a reaction, but, of course, my dad’s involved so what else is new? The man offends women—everyone—on a constant basis.

“Dad. Come on. Show the lady some respect,” I say, giving his shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dad starts digging into his food, not bothering to offer her an apology, and I feel like shit.

This night is going from bad to worse at a rapid pace.

Bryn

MATT STEERS ME to a dark corner a few feet away from the packed courtyard so we’re standing beneath a mighty oak that actually doesn’t have a string of lights wound through the branches. His expression is grim, his gaze contrite as he turns to face me.

“I’m sorry.” He runs a hand over his face, looking downright traumatized. “My father is an asshole, and I can’t believe he said those things to you.”

“It’s okay,” I say softly, my heart still panging from Vinnie DeLuca’s earlier words. They’d cut way too close to the truth, reminding me of my old boss.

And of how I haven’t changed a bit, even though I think I have. I fall into the same habits time and again, self-destructive to the point that I’m wondering if I seek this sort of attention out.

Was I so neglected as a child that I prefer any attention, good or bad?

“No, it’s not okay. You came sweeping in, handling everything perfectly and he still treats you like that. He’s awful.” Matt blows out a frustrated breath and rests his hands on his hips, staring out at the courtyard. The music has picked up the pace, and people are actually dancing. The wine is flowing and being praised; the grounds are still packed with people. The party is a huge success.

And here Matt stands, looking so desolate and sad all I can think about is how much I want to comfort him.

Don’t do it, Bryn. Not in public. He’ll probably freak.

Ignoring my inner voice’s protestations, I step closer to him and rest my hand on his chest. I can feel his heart pumping wildly beneath my palm, and I smile up at him, trying to offer reassurance. “He’s an old man stuck in his ways. Do you know how many of those types live in Cactus?”

He smiles. “I did notice you slipped into your Texan accent when you spoke to him.”

“I did? I didn’t even notice.” I smooth my fingers down the length of Matt’s tie, loving how firm and solid he feels beneath my touch. I wish I could see him naked. I know he has a body to die for. I’ve seen him bare-chested and sexy as hell online, but I’d prefer to see the real thing. So I can get my hands all over his hot, hard flesh.

“I appreciate you trying to help me,” he says, his voice low and sexy, igniting that flicker of desire that always seems to burn within me when he’s near into a full-on flame. “You were great with him. Even when he started insulting you.”

A soft huff of laughter escapes me. “I know how to handle guys like your father. I’ve dealt with them a lot.” Too much. It’s like I can’t ever escape them.

He steps away from me, and I drop my hand, pushing aside the sadness that nips at me. I’m acting like a girlfriend when I need to remember my place. I work for him. I’m his assistant.

That’s it.

“I’ll ask Archer or Gage to spend time with him for a while and keep him entertained,” Matt says, his mouth grim. “They know how to handle him. They have before.”

“I can do it,” I say, wincing the moment the words leave me. Why did I volunteer myself to sit with Vinnie DeLuca? Am I crazy?

Yes, crazy for your boss and looking for any way to please him.

“No way.” He shakes his head, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s desperate. And I if I can ease his stress by babysitting his dad, then so be it.

Even though I’m totally taking a chance here. From what I can see in just the few minutes I’ve spent in Vinnie’s company, he’s beyond obnoxious.

“I can handle your father. I’m a lot tougher than I look,” I say, wanting him to agree so I can prove I can handle anything he throws my way.

“I don’t know . . .” He rubs his chin, his gaze full of doubt.

“Let me do this for you,” I whisper, swallowing hard the moment the words leave me. Why do I want to please him so bad?

Because you like him, silly.

A sigh escapes him and he shakes his head. “Listen, if he’s rude to you or gets out of control, find me, and I’ll take care of him. I’ll keep my eyes on you too and make sure he doesn’t try anything crazy.” He studies me, just waiting for me to bail on him I’m sure.

But I won’t. I’m doing this—for him.

“He’ll be fine. And I don’t mind. Really.” Well, I sort of do, but I’ll do anything to ease Matt’s burden, especially tonight. “I can sit with him, hopefully sober him up and maybe convince him to leave? Is that what you’d prefer?”

I see the guilt and the worry swirling in the brown depths of his gaze. I get it. My grandma is crazy. I adore her, but I wouldn’t want her out in public with me, especially on a night as big as this. She’d embarrass the hell out of me.

“Yeah. Actually, I would. I sound like an ass, wanting to get rid of my dad, but if you can subdue him and somehow convince him he needs to go, that would be perfect,” he finally says.

“I’ll do what I can.” I turn and start to head back to the table where Vinnie is sitting when Matt grabs my hand and tugs me back toward him.

“Thank you.” He lifts my hand and presses a soft, damp kiss to the back of it. My knees wobble when I see the glow in Matt’s gaze as he studies me. “For everything.”

“Y-you’re w-welcome,” I stutter. I can hardly think when he’s touching me, looking like he wants to devour me, let alone talking to me. No man has ever made me feel quite like this before.

“We’ll talk in a bit, all right? I need to socialize and schmooze,” he says as he slowly releases my hand.

“Fine. Makes sense. I’ve heard nothing but good things from everyone I’ve talked to, I promise. DeLuca Winery is a big hit.” I offer him a quick smile before I flee, going to the table where Vinnie sits munching on one appetizer after another. He spots me, his eyes lighting up, and he pats the empty chair beside him.

“Come sit by me, girly. Want a glass of wine? Some food?” He pushes his plate toward me like he’s going to share it as I sit down next to him.

“No, thank you,” I say, laying on the sweetness. May as well play it up and entertain the old booger for a while. The last thing I want to do is drink with the already drunk Vinnie, and I’m not really hungry since nerves are still eating at my stomach.

“How long you work here for Matt?” Vinnie asks amicably.

“Well, I was working for the winery before Matt purchased it. I was the assistant of the other owner. We all thought we’d lost our jobs but then Matt asked us to attend a staff meeting. When he announced that he wanted to keep us all working for him, we were so grateful. We’ve been loyal to him ever since,” I explain, remembering how big and strong and handsome I thought he looked that day. Sweeping in and making his grand declarations, and better yet? Actually keeping his word. I’d wanted to fall at his feet and weep in gratitude, I’d been so thankful.

And I know I wasn’t the only one who felt that way either. Men who’d worked in the vineyard for the previous owner’s family for years were incredibly thankful for Matt’s generosity as well. It’s why we all work so hard for him. He shows us respect, and we show it right back.

“That was a good thing my boy did,” Vinnie says with a firm nod. “Keeping you all here working for him. Everyone loves my Matthew. Every once in a while, he has a bit of goodness in his heart.”

“He’s a good boss,” I agree, wondering how his dad can both praise Matt and knock him down all in one sentence.

“Even though he don’t know shit about wine,” Vinnie mutters, making me stifle a laugh. “What? It’s true and you know it, girly. I bet he’s been scrambling since he bought this place trying to learn everything he can.”

His dad wasn’t too far off the mark with that assessment. “What he lacks in knowledge, he makes up for in enthusiasm.”

“Now that was a diplomatic answer.” Vinnie grins and points at me. “I can see why he kept you on. Not only do you look real good, you sound good too.”

“Thank you. I think.” I glance around, looking for Matt, and spot him standing with a group of people who seem to be enthusiastically chatting him up.

Good. He doesn’t need the stress his dad brings him while worrying if anyone is impressed with the wine. Not that I ever doubted he’d succeed, but he’s been on edge for days. Weeks. Months.

Probably why he kissed you. Needed an outlet for all that nervous energy and you were the perfect distraction.

The thought comes upon me so quickly, I go still as I turn it over again and again in my head. Could that really be the reason why he kissed me? A way to unleash all that edgy energy he’s been living on for the last few weeks?

God, I hope not.

“So can I ask you a question, pretty lady?”

Vinnie’s voice reminds me what I’m supposed to be doing, and I turn to look at him, a tentative smile on my face. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Are you fucking my son?”

Chapter Eight

Bryn

MY MOUTH IS completely dry as I gape at Matt’s father, shocked that he would say such a crude and horrible thing.

They have similar features, Vinnie and Matt. Same dark hair and brown eyes, though Matt’s are much kinder than Vinnie’s cold, almost mocking glare. His mouth is set in a firm line too, as if he doesn’t smile much.

I bet he doesn’t. It seems he’s got a mean streak in him a mile wide.

“Well? Cat got your tongue or what? I can only take your silence as confirmation that yes, indeedy, you’re fucking my son,” he says. “The lucky bastard.”

Swallowing hard, I search for composure. The very last thing I want him to believe is that Matt and I are having some sort of illicit affair. I wouldn’t put it past this man to sell the story to whoever would listen if it brought him any bit of attention.

“Your son is my boss,” I finally say, my voice raspy, and I clear my throat. “That’s it. There’s nothing between us except a working relationship.”

He casts a skeptical glance my way. “Uh huh. That’s why he looks at you like you’re his favorite dessert and he’s a starving man. I get it. Really I do. I never could keep my dick in my pants, you know, especially when faced with a gorgeous woman such as yourself. And neither can he.” Reaching out, he touches me, slides his fingers down my forearm. I yank my arm away, my skin literally crawling from his touch.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” I say, my voice firm, my insides anything but. I’m a nervous, quaking mess, afraid this man will somehow figure out that Matt and I have at least kissed.

His questions, his blunt wording, are tainting everything I’ve shared with Matt. Reminding me that I’m just the same ol’ girl from Cactus, Texas. The girl everyone chases after and expects sexual favors from, all because she has a pretty face and curvy figure.

That’s me. I’m that girl, the one that everyone makes feel like she’s a slut. A whore. I’ve slept with two men in my life. I could count the sexual experiences I’ve had on one hand. Nothing lasting, nothing good, and I always run before it can turn into anything more. I’m always too scared.

Yet I’m the shameless hussy who’s out to fuck around with every man I see. I’m a home wrecker. A man stealer. A girl who’s good for nothing but cock sucking. A pervert’s dream. I’ve been told this time and again.

And I’m being told it right now.

“You keep on saying there’s nothing between you two but soon you’ll fall under the DeLuca charm. You all do. We’re irresistible. My son and I have both had plenty of women. I know when one’s interested. And you my girl, you are definitely interested.” Vinnie puts his hand over mine and holds firm, trapping it on the table. “If my son doesn’t take the bait, just know I’m always here waiting whenever you’re ready.”

Oh my God. Now he thinks they’re interchangeable? That I’ll just bounce from father to son? “You’re disgusting,” I say, my voice low as I finally snatch my hand back from beneath his.

He laughs, the sound so loud more than a few people turn and look in our direction, including Matt. He shoots me a look of concern, but I shake my head, offer him a quick smile. The last thing I want is him coming over here and discovering this particular conversation. I can handle this man on my own.

He’s not the first to think like this, and I’m guessing he won’t be the last.

“Disgusting only because you don’t want to hear the truth.” He reaches for his cup of coffee and drains it. “Keep doing what you’re doing, girly. He’ll get you into his bed sooner or later.”

That’s it. I’ve had it. The man is a pig, and I need to get him out of here. “How did you get here tonight, Mr. DeLuca?” I ask, using my best, most professional voice. Not a twang or y’all in sight.

“Ah, now we’re back to the formalities huh? Well, I got myself a ride. The car and driver are sitting out in the parking lot,” he says with a grin.

“Then let’s go.” I stand and grab hold of his arm, yanking him to his feet. He stares down at me in shock, most likely surprised little ol’ me could tug him to his feet like that, but I just smile my best smile and lead him toward the entrance of the winery. “You need to get on home. I know Matt was thrilled you thought of him and wanted to stop by, but I think your time here is through.”

“You can’t just push me out of here,” he mutters, but I ignore him practically dragging him by the arm toward the valets we hired for this evening. I paste my cordial, I-work-here smile on my face as I stop before them.

“We’re looking for Mr. DeLuca’s car. Do you happen to know where it is?”

One of them did, enabling me with the pleasure of dumping Vinnie DeLuca off onto some other poor, hapless soul and wiping my hands of him and his antics for the evening.

“Think you can get rid of me that quick, missy?” Vinnie shouts from the open window of his car, but I ignore him. Why engage the crazy?

I head back to the courtyard, wincing when my new stiletto sandals pinch my toes. I’m not used to heels or to walking on graveled pathways and cobbled courtyards in heels. I can’t wait to soak my feet in the bath when I get home.

Alone.

Because there is no way I can pursue something, anything with Matt. Spending just ten minutes in his father’s presence confirmed that. I can’t go on pretending we would work out. I’d be seen as the gold-digging slut because I’m the poor girl from Texas dating the rich, billionaire boss and he’d be seen as the ass who couldn’t keep it in his pants around his own employee.

Any sort of relationship between the two of us, temporary or serious, could ruin his reputation as a businessman in the area. I refuse to play a part in that. I would never be able to forgive myself.

And what would that do to me? I can’t destroy my last chance here at a great job. If I fail at this, I’m going home. I can’t afford to live in this outrageously expensive state while unemployed. Lord knows I’d hightail it out of here if I did end up parting ways with Matt professionally. It’s hard enough as it is, finding a job that pays as well as mine in the area.

My footsteps slow, and I stop just at the edge of the courtyard, watching everyone. I see Gage and Marina out on the dance floor swaying in each other’s arms as they smile and then laugh. I see Matt talking with another group, all of them men, every one of them reeking with importance.

I hope they can give him the connections he’s looking for.

He looks so handsome in his dark suit and wine-colored tie, his hair ruffled by the occasional breeze. His smile flashes white against the tan of his skin and there are slight wrinkles around his eyes, as if he laughs often.

Which I hope he does. I haven’t seen him laugh much since he’s been so stressed-out since I started working for him, but hopefully that will change once everything settles down. Then he can relax and reap the benefits of all this hard work.

I probably won’t be around to witness it though. And that thought alone fills me with such complete and utter sadness, I almost fall to the ground, my legs get so wobbly.

Pushing on, I head toward the crowds opposite of where Matt stands. I find an empty table and collapse in a chair, slipping my hand beneath the heavy weight of my hair, so I can rub my neck. No wonder I don’t wear it down very often. It’s heavy and thick, making me hot and my neck hurt.

I should just cut it all off and be done with it.

“Are you all right? You look like you’re contemplating murder.” Ivy pulls out a chair and settles in next to me.

“Only the murder of my hair.” At her weird look I explain. “I’m thinking of cutting it all off.”

“Don’t you dare. It’s gorgeous.”

I shrug. “Like anyone notices. This has all been for nothing.”

“Ah, Matt didn’t notice? I know he’s busy trying to keep everyone happy tonight,” Ivy reminds me.

“Oh, he noticed.” He definitely noticed if his mouth fused with mine and his hands roaming all over my body earlier was any indication. “His father came along though and ruined everything.”

Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “His father came? I never saw him.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” I mutter.

“Aw. Did he say something awful to you?” Ivy reaches out and grabs my hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “He’s terrible—says the most offensive things ever. When I was younger, he used to try and hit on me.”

“He doesn’t try and hit on you now?”

“Well, I haven’t seen him in a while and besides, Archer would kill him. Like tear him apart and murder him with his bare hands if he so much as leered at me, let alone touched me.” Ivy smiles, a dreamy look in her eyes. “He’s so hot when he gets all possessive like that.”

Envy curls through me, gripping me tight. “Must be nice.”

“Someday I bet you’ll experience the same thing with Matt,” Ivy says, full of a confidence I wished I felt even a tenth of.

Instead of making her more curious, I decide to put on a brave face. “Yeah, maybe I will,” I say with a false enthusiasm that makes Ivy give me the side eye.

I can’t get anything right, I swear.

Matt

I CAUGHT SIGHT of Bryn escorting my dad out of here not even twenty minutes ago, and it was like a weight had been lifted off me, making me infinitely lighter. It took everything in me not to fret and worry like a little old lady, my gaze constantly going to where Bryn sat with Dad.

I was afraid he’d say something horrible to her, or worse, touch her in an inappropriate manner. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s done something like that to some poor, innocent woman.

I just don’t want him doing it to my woman.

With my dad off the premises, I find my focus and really start to work it. I talk to the local winery owners I invited, who all seemed grudgingly impressed with my wine list. I speak with plenty of local media who want to feature the DeLuca Winery; being a former pro ball player gives my story an extra edge they all want to explore.

I haven’t eaten dinner and I’m starved, living on the occasional appetizer I find here and there, taking way too many swigs of wine. My head is spinning—I’m high on tonight’s event coming together so perfectly—and I wonder where the hell Bryn is.

Plans to celebrate with her are definitely on my late-night agenda.

“Have you seen Bryn?” I ask Archer when I find him moving through the crowd, clutching two glasses, one full of water. I figure he’s on his way back to Ivy.

“She’s sitting with Ivy over there.” He gestures with one of the glasses. “Ivy asked me to grab her a drink.”

I should probably stay and talk with my guests some more, but I’m growing exhausted being on all the time. I need a break. I want to hang out with my people. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

“Uh huh.” Archer flashes me a knowing smile over his shoulder as I fall into step behind him. “Missing your girl, hmm?”

“She’s not my girl,” I say, though the thought of Bryn with any other man, of her giving another man the right to call her his girl, fills me with a near overwhelming rush of jealousy.

Yeah. That was sort of a lie. I wouldn’t mind if Bryn was my girl. But she can’t be my girl. I have a bet to win.

Fuck the bet.

“You got what—less than forty days? Then she can be your girl. If you can hold out that long,” Archer says, stopping at the table where Ivy and Bryn are sitting, deep in conversation. “Look who I found, ladies,” he announces as he sets the glasses in front of the women.

They both glance up, their gazes dark and not necessarily happy when they see me.

Weird.

“Hey, Matt,” Ivy says first, grabbing her water glass and taking a big swig. “Looks like tonight was a huge success despite your father showing up.”

I frown. Great, did she notice? Or did Bryn tell her? “Yeah, well thanks to the dependable Miss James, who took care of everything and made sure he didn’t cause too much of a scene.”

“Yes, well thank goodness. You can always count on Miss James. Right, Bryn?” Ivy casts her an unreadable glance, which Bryn returns silently.

The vibe is completely off though Archer seems oblivious to it. They’d been talking about me. And somehow, someway, I must’ve pissed Bryn off. But how? She’d been so sweet to me right before she went and took care of my dad. How could it all have fallen apart in that short amount of time? Could Dad have said something to her, and she’s keeping it to herself?

Shit.

“Well, listen I’m going to wander around and see if there’s anything else that needs to be done,” I say, gripping the chair in front of me.

“Off to play the gracious host, huh?” Archer asks, slinging his arm around Ivy’s shoulders. She snuggles up closer to him and jealousy fills me, sharp and painful.