Читать книгу Playing With Seduction - Reese Ryan - Страница 12

Chapter 3

Bree arrived fifteen minutes early for the meeting. Because she was always early. Also, because she hoped to get a quick word in with Wes. If they were going to work together over the next six months, she needed to keep things civil. Nothing had happened between them. Other than an amazing night together and a kiss that was so hot and sweet that it melted her insides and made her heart skip a beat.

Other than that, nothing at all.

Bex was right. She needed to let go of her resentment toward Wes. Count her lucky stars they hadn’t slept together. Then things would’ve been unbearably awkward.

She would apologize and clear the air. Let bygones be bygones and all of those other ridiculous clichés. Not for him, but for her. Her participation in this event would expand their brand. Help her and Bex maximize the value of what remained of their careers on the volleyball circuit.

Bree entered the room. No one was there, except Lisa, who stood at the end of the table sorting documents. “Good morning, Bree. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“Good morning.” She smiled brightly as she surveyed the chairs. Where would Wes sit? Probably next to Liam, who’d likely sit at the head of the table. She walked around the other side of the table and hung her bag on the second seat from Liam’s probable chair. Lisa eyed at her expectantly. “Oh, the coffee. I’m fine. Thank you.”

The corner of Lisa’s mouth quirked in a knowing smile. “All right. Everyone should be here in a minute.”

Bree’s cheeks warmed. The other woman hadn’t done a very good job of hiding her amusement over her careful deliberation about where to sit.

Note to self: take it down a notch. Your crazy is showing.

“Can I help with anything?”

“I’m about finished here.” Lisa slid a few stapled sheets into a blue folder, then shut it. “There. All done.”

Rather than taking a seat, Bree wandered over to the window and gazed out onto the water. She loved her life on the West Coast, but the Carolina coast was certainly beautiful, too. As soon as the water warmed up a bit, she would get out on a kayak and explore the Cape Fear River on the other side of the island. Right now, the water was still too chilly, despite the mild temperature outside.

Finally, Bree heard voices approaching. She waited until they were in the room to turn around, flashing her biggest smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Bree.” Liam shook her hand in both of his, a gesture that was warm and welcoming. “Sorry I couldn’t make yesterday’s preliminary meeting. I had a family emergency, but I’m here now, and I’m thrilled you’ve decided to come on board with the project. It’s going to be an amazing event. Good for the Pleasure Cove community and the sport of volleyball.”

“I know. I’m thrilled. Thank you for inviting me to be part of it.”

Miranda greeted Bree, then took the seat next to Liam, closest to the door. The seat she would’ve expected Wes to take. When Lisa slipped into the seat between her and Liam, that left only the seat across from her vacant. Which meant she’d spend the entire meeting pretending not to stare at him.

“Looks like we’re all here,” Miranda said. “Let’s get started.”

“What about... I mean, isn’t Wes joining us?” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. She didn’t dare look over at the amused half grin that was probably perched on Lisa’s mouth.

Liam’s eyes twinkled and his mouth pressed into a slow, subdued smile. “Wes had a family emergency of his own. He won’t make today’s meeting, but he should be here when we meet on Friday.”

“Oh.” Bree tried to filter the disappointment from her voice. She adjusted in her chair. Way to look nonchalant.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence that made Bree want to crawl into a ball and hide in a corner, until finally, Miranda started the meeting. She directed everyone to the agenda placed inside the front pocket of the folders in front of them.

They reviewed various possible formats for the event, based on ideas generated in the previous meeting. Miranda reviewed reports on current beach-volleyball tournaments in California and Miami Beach. Bree shared her insight on what worked at those tournaments and what could be improved, based on her participation in them in the past. Liam stressed that the event needed to entice notable celebrities who would draw people to the resort.

Lisa reminded everyone of the need to draw visitors who were not diehard fans, including locals. That was Wesley’s expertise. Together they made a solid plan that they were all excited about.

After the meeting, Miranda leaned in toward Liam, her voice low. “Has Wes committed to the project?”

“Not yet. But I expect he will soon.” Liam’s polite smile indicated that his vague response was the extent of their discussion on the matter.

Bree had reacted badly to seeing Wes. She realized that now. Was he waffling on the project because of her?

Wes didn’t seem like the kind of guy to let a little contention get in the way of something he really wanted. Still, if she was the reason he hadn’t committed, it was more important than ever that she apologize to him. Before he walked away from the project.

Bree said her goodbyes and headed down the hallway.

Liam caught up with her. “Bree, can I give you a ride to your guest house? I’m headed out for a lunch meeting.”

She wanted to politely reject his offer. Spend the short walk back to her place lost in her own thoughts. Her feet, already tired of the four-inch patent-leather heels she was wearing, had other ideas. “Sure.”

As they walked toward the front door, Liam stopped and turned to her. “I’m meeting with a few influential folks in town to quell their concerns about the commercialization of the island. It would be great if you came along. You’d be doing me a huge favor, if you don’t have other plans.”

She wanted to say no. She really did. But his pleading dark eyes and brilliant smile won her over. Besides, she’d taken the time to make up her face and wear a sexy outfit. She should get some mileage out of all that effort before heading back to the guest house and slipping into her comfy yoga pants and T-shirt.

“I’d love to meet some of the townspeople. Maybe even get them on board with the project early on. We’re going to need a lot of volunteers.”

Liam shook a finger, smiling. “I love the way you think. I owe you one.”

“Two, actually.” Bree held up two fingers. “The other is for not telling me Wes would be working on the project, too.”

Liam pressed his mouth into a straight line, an eyebrow raised.

Busted.

“Perhaps I should’ve mentioned that. But I can’t say I’m sorry I didn’t. It would’ve been a shame if either of you begged off because of it. I think you two will make an excellent team.” His smile widened.

She sighed. No apology, but at least he’d given an honest response. That, she could appreciate.

“You’re right. I would’ve said no. That would’ve been a mistake.”

Liam grinned. “You’re both here. That’s what matters.”

Bree wasn’t so sure. After all, she’d committed to the project; Wes hadn’t. Maybe he’d decided that working with her wasn’t worth it. She forced a smile and tried not to let the hurt that arose from that thought crack her smiling veneer.

* * *

Wes parked the Challenger in front of the guest house, stepped out of the car and stretched his long frame. He’d spent the last two nights in one of his mother’s spare rooms. They had a delicious meal on the waterfront. By the time they ordered dessert she finally leveled with him about her Parkinson’s diagnosis. She brought him up to speed on her doctor’s prognosis and invited him to accompany her to her next doctor’s appointment, which had been today.

He’d spent the last two days getting his mother’s house back to the standards she’d always kept. He’d sifted through stacks of papers and mail, sorting and filing what was important, dumping what wasn’t. He’d vacuumed carpets, scrubbed floors and cleaned the bathrooms and kitchen. Every muscle in his body ached. It reminded him of those brutal days on the rugby field at university. The days when he’d been sure he must be some guilt-ridden masochist to love the damn sport so much.

His mother’s doctor appointment was two hours before his meeting with Liam and Bree. He’d hoped to get back in time to catch part of the meeting, but the doctor’s office had used the term appointment loosely. By the time they got in to see the doctor, got blood tests, a CAT scan and filled her prescription, they were both exhausted. And there was no way he could make the meeting.

Bree had probably been thrilled by his absence.

Liam pulled behind his car, his face etched with concern. “You made it back. Everything all right?”

“Things have been better.” Wes forced a weak smile and rubbed his hand over his head. That’s when he noticed Bree sitting in the passenger seat of Liam’s car. Their eyes met briefly. She forced a quick smile and nodded, then turned away.

“You look like hell. Want to talk about it?” Liam asked, before he could acknowledge the olive branch Bree had extended.

Liam was his best friend. They kept few secrets from each other. But for now, he preferred to keep the news of his mother’s illness to himself. As if not talking about it made it less real. A bad dream from which he’d awaken. Besides, he didn’t want to discuss it in front of Bree.

“Maybe later.”

“Over golf tomorrow? Ten o’clock?”

Wes shook his head and laughed. There were few things in life Liam enjoyed as much as beating his ass in a round of golf. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up then,” Liam said before turning to Bree and thanking her for lunch.

He should’ve headed inside. After two nights in that too-little bed, he was desperate to sleep in a bed that could accommodate someone taller than a leprechaun. Instead, he remained rooted to his spot, his feet refusing to budge, as he watched Bree exit the car. When Liam waved and pulled away, Wes didn’t respond. He was focused on Bree. She looked stunning, and she seemed fully aware of it.

She strutted toward him in mile-high patent-leather heels that gleamed in the sunlight and made her legs look even longer than he remembered. The white wrap blouse hugged her full breasts, revealing a hint of cleavage. The black pencil skirt grazed the top of her knee. Each step she made offered a generous glimpse of her thigh through a slit positioned over the center of her right leg. She came to a stop in front of him. The same exotic scent she’d worn the night they met at The Alley wafted around her. Fruity and floral. He hadn’t been able to get enough of that scent as he held her that night.

“Hello, Brianna.” His voice came out softer than he’d intended. Wes cleared his throat and elevated the bass in his voice. “How’d the meeting go?”

“Very well. Sorry you weren’t able to make it. Looks like you’ve been busy the past couple of days.” She assessed his clothing. Same jacket and pants he’d worn during their initial meeting. Only more wrinkled.

He could only imagine what she was thinking. No point in trying to dissuade her. Besides, he didn’t owe her an explanation. Wes ran a hand over his head. “Yeah, I have. It’ll be good to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

Her cheeks turned crimson. She bit the corner of her lip. The deep red lip color highlighted how kissable her lips were. A fact to which he could attest. “Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He reached into the backseat of the car and pulled out two grocery bags. “But I have to get these groceries in the fridge. Mind stepping inside while I put them away?”

Her hair wasn’t pulled back into the severe bun she’d worn earlier in the week. Loose curls cascaded over her right shoulder. She shook her head, and the curls bounced. He balled his fingers into a fist at his side at the thought of fisting a handful of her luxurious hair and taking her from behind. He swallowed, his mouth dry.

“You cook?”

He laughed. “A guy’s gotta eat, right?”

“Our meals are being comped.” He could hear the click of her heels against the concrete as she followed him up the path to his door.

“I know, but I felt like throwing a steak on the grill.”

“In February?”

“When a February day is as beautiful as this one, why not?”

* * *

Bree followed him into the kitchen and stood beside the counter making idle chitchat as he put away the groceries. Apologizing was the right thing to do. She believed that. So why was it so difficult to say the words? The words of apology had been lodged in her throat since she noticed he was wearing the same clothes from earlier in the week. He smelled like soap. The utilitarian kind you bought in bulk. A familiar scent. It was all her family could afford when she was growing up. So he’d showered, but he’d been too preoccupied to return here for a change of clothing.

The thought of him spending the past two nights in someone else’s bed caused a tightness in her chest that made it hard to breathe deeply. Which was silly. Why should it matter what Wesley Adams did in his spare time and with whom? Her only concern was his actions relating to the event. As long as he nailed this event, he could bang the entire eastern seaboard for all she cared.

The sound of Wes shutting the refrigerator door broke in to her thoughts. He gestured for her to take a seat in the living room. She sank into the cushion of the blue checkered sofa and crossed her legs.

She followed his gaze, which traveled the length of her long legs. His tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips before he dragged his gaze back to hers. “You wanted to talk?”

Her pulse quickened and she smiled inwardly. He still found her attractive. A small vindication.

Bree clasped her hands in her lap, looking down at them for a moment before raising her eyes to his. “I wanted to apologize for how I came off the other day. It was childish and petty. This project is important to both of us. If we’re going to work together, I don’t want things to be weird between us. So I wanted to clear the air by saying I’m sorry.”

Wes seemed pleasantly surprised by her apology. He scooted forward on the couch and gave her a sheepish smile. “I accept your apology, but only if you’ll accept mine. I wanted to call, I just...” He sighed, then scooted back on the couch again. His tone turned more serious. “Didn’t seem like it was the right time for me.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t meant to say it out aloud. Especially not in that sad, wounded-puppy whimper that changed his expression from contrition to pity. When he felt remorse, she had the upper hand. Now that he seemed to pity her, the power had shifted back to him. Bree shot to her feet. “No apology necessary, but thanks. I’ll let myself out.”

“What prompted the change of heart?”

Her hand was nearly on the doorknob, but his question grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her back into the room. She turned back to him and shrugged. “For the sake of the project.”

He took a few steps toward her. “Why were you so upset about that night?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Curious, I guess.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, drawing her attention to the strain the gesture placed on the placard covering his zipper.

“I overreacted. I get cranky when I’m jet-lagged.” The space between them was closing too rapidly. She took a few steps backward toward the door.

His self-assured smile suggested that her answer had told him everything he needed to know.

Her cheeks flamed and she swiveled on her heels, but before she could escape, he’d gently caught her by the hand. A familiar heat traveled from his large hand into hers, up her arm and into her chest. She raised her eyes to his.

“Look, I bought more than enough food to share. I’m going to marinate the steaks then get a few hours of sleep. But I should have the steaks on the grill at say—” Wes flipped his wrist and glanced at his watch “—seven thirty. Why don’t you join me for dinner? You can assess my cooking abilities for yourself.”

His wide grin and close proximity were doing things to her she wasn’t proud of. Wesley Adams wasn’t a man she should be flirting with. Nor were they friends. He was a means to an end.

Bree glanced down at his hand on her arm and he dropped it to his side and took a step backward. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m pretty tired, too. I should probably just order in and get some rest.”

“The invitation is open, if you change your mind.”

* * *

Bree had turned and run out of there like her hair was on fire. If it hadn’t wounded his pride, he would’ve found it funny.

Wes closed the door behind her and returned to the kitchen. He seasoned the steaks and put them into the fridge.

You invited her to dinner, genius? Really?

They were forced to work together over the course of the next six months. Like Bree said, they needed to play nice. He appreciated that she’d come to that conclusion. That she had no plans to make the next six months a living hell for both of them.

Being cordial was crucial to the success of the project. Getting to know each other, up close and personal, could only lead to trouble. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. His brain had taken a coffee break and the head on his shoulders was no longer in control.

He’d been dying for another excuse to touch her warm, soft skin. The memory of their night together in London blazed brightly in the back of his mind, like an image from an old-fashioned projector. His skin tingled with the sensation of her body pressed to his on the dance floor. Of his mouth on her lips, her neck, her bare shoulder. The unfinished business between them.

It was good Bree had turned down his invitation. Better for the both of them.