AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His chest tightened as he watched them together. Galen was a very lucky man. Brett was an idiot to let Kaitlyn go.
“My daughter loves you.”
Brett tore his gaze away from Kaitlyn and looked at Galen, affecting a casual smile despite his discomfort at Galen’s comment. “Nah, she doesn’t love me.”
He was hoping no one would see the look in Kaitlyn’s eyes, but obviously it was too late. Dammit, this wasn’t going to sit well with the Storms when he stopped seeing Kaitlyn.
But hell, it wasn’t like he could give her the fairytale romance that her parents had. Galen and Angelina Storm were the model for a couple in love after thirty-five years of marriage. They were the glue that held the family together, and they were the people he’d been most comfortable with growing up, even more so than his own parents. He’d spent a lot of time at the Storm house while his parents were out partying and getting drunk every weekend. Maybe he should have spent more time with the Storms and less with his own parents. Though he didn’t blame them for his problems, he couldn’t help but feel he’d followed in his parents’ footsteps, and not in a good way. They didn’t exactly set the best example of wholesome, clean living.
When he was a kid he dreamed about Galen and Angelina adopting him so he could live with a “normal” family. That hadn’t happened, and no matter how he wanted to deny it, the lifestyle of his parents had rubbed off on him. But he’d also had a choice to be like them or not, and he’d chosen to emulate the worst parts of them. That’s what he wouldn’t expose Kaitlyn to.
“Kaitlyn’s lovely,” Brett said. “But you don’t have to worry about her and me. There’s nothing going on between us.”
Galen arched a brow. “Why would I worry? I’d love to see you with my daughter.”
Pain ripped through him, the knowledge of how much he was going to hurt Kait as well as her family tearing a hole in his chest. “Thanks. But I think our lifestyles are too different. She’s just enamored right now because I painted her.”
“Yes,” Galen said, coughing uncomfortably. “We won’t get into how you painted her. Some things parents don’t need to dwell on. Just treat her right, son, and you’ll make her happy.” He squeezed Brett’s shoulder and moved off to join his wife, slipping his arm around Angelina’s waist and pulling her against his side.
Kaitlyn beamed as she watched her parents. Brett knew that was the kind of happily ever after she was looking for. A man who could offer her stability and strength.
Brett could offer her neither. And the sooner she recognized that, the better.
The rest of the night went off without a single glitch. Dinner was fabulous and the auction was a huge hit. They sold every item, some for an amount that made even his eyes widen. The Art Council would be able to provide several years funding for grants and projects now. The members of the board congratulated him and said he could be their permanent fundraising chairman if he wanted the job.
When things started to wind down, his tension began to increase. He knew Kaitlyn would expect them to spend the night together, only he wasn’t going to give her what she expected.
“Hey there, stranger.”
He whirled at the sound of a feminine voice, frowning for a moment until recognition struck. Gail, the blonde he’d driven home from the bar. “Hi, Gail. I didn’t see you earlier. Who are you here with?”
Great. A mistake he’d almost made the other night, come back to haunt him.
She grinned and sloshed a little wine out of her glass, clearly as drunk tonight as she’d been that night in the bar. “I’m here with Miles Denton. But he’s boring.”
Brett laughed. He couldn’t argue with her there. He’d known Miles for years. Besides the fact he was a stuffy art snob, the man was at least twenty-five years older than Gail.
“You passed up a really good thing with me the other night. Or at least I think you did. I kind of passed out. What actually happened when you brought me home?”
“I placed you on your couch and left.”
Her lips formed a red pout. “That’s too bad.” When she trailed her finger over his bow tie, he swallowed hard, decidedly uncomfortable with her forwardness. “Maybe we could correct that oversight tonight. After all, you said you wanted to fuck me the other night.”
Gail’s gaze drifted over his shoulder and her lips tightened. Brett turned his head, his heart slamming against his chest as a wide-eyed Kaitlyn stepped around them. Shit! She’d heard what Gail said, it was obvious. Her face had gone pale, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. Before he could utter a single word, she scooted around them and hurried away.
“Kaitlyn, wait!” He started to go after her but Gail clutched his arm like a lifeline.
“Hey. We were talking.”
Trying for patience, he turned to Gail and said, “Let me set you straight. I made a big mistake the other night, thinking I’d use you to forget someone I cared about. I’m sorry, Gail, but I don’t want this. And frankly, I don’t think you do, either.”
She shrugged and drained her glass of wine, nearly toppling off her high heels when she tilted her head back. “I just want to have some fun. Shouldn’t I be allowed to have some fun?”
How many times over the years had he used that excuse for drinking himself into oblivion? But he couldn’t help Gail with her problem. Only she could do that. Relief washed over him as Miles appeared, shaking his head at Gail’s weaving form.
“I think she needs some assistance out of here,” Brett suggested.
Sniffing, Miles nodded. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely. Really, Gail, must you drink so heavily?”
Miles led her away, Gail babbling and giggling as she leaned against him. Brett shook his head, then immediately turned to search for Kaitlyn.
The room was practically empty now, and she was nowhere to be seen.
She’d heard Gail talk about the other night. God, what she must think of him! This wasn’t how he wanted to end things with her. Not with her thinking he was a cheating, lying bastard.
He had to talk to her, had to explain what had been going through his head the night he picked Gail up.
If he could manage to figure it out himself.
Kaitlyn paced the confines of her living room, still seething about that blonde bitch falling all over Brett. Jealousy and hurt mixed together in a powerful concoction of really disturbing emotions. She rubbed her arms, shivering despite the warmth of her sweatpants and long-sleeved shirt.
Embarrassment at her quick exit took a little chill from the air. How old was she, anyway? Sometimes she wondered if she still bore the raging emotions of a seventeen year old. She’d torn out of the ballroom as quickly as she could, unable to face Brett after what she’d heard.
Okay, not her most mature moment, but then again, what was she supposed to do when she overh
eard that woman say Brett had wanted to fuck her the other night? What other night? Was it during the time period that they’d been…
…No. Brett wouldn’t do that. Would he? That didn’t seem like Brett at all. She’d been with him damn near every night for the past few weeks, and God knows lately they’d had enough sex to exhaust them into a deep sleep. Why would he go looking for more?
Wasn’t she enough for him? What the hell was it going to take to make that man happy?
Maybe more than she could offer. She flopped into a chair and propped her bare feet on the coffee table, an emptiness gnawing in the pit of her stomach as she realized how foolish she’d been. She’d barreled into his life, forced him to paint her, forced him to have sex with her…she’d pretty much forced herself on him in every possible way, despite his continued protests.
He didn’t want her. Okay, he wanted to fuck her, but he didn’t want her in his life. If he could take up with another woman while still seeing her, then it didn’t matter how much of her heart she gave Brett. She’d never have all of his.
The gnawing ache felt like a hole in her stomach. Realization and cold reality chilled the air even further. It was over. She might be dim-witted and obstinate, but even she knew when to throw in the towel.
When the doorbell rang, her gaze flitted to the clock on the wall. It was eleven o’clock. Who the hell could be here? She rose and went to the peephole, mentally cursing when she saw Brett standing there.
Damn. She laid her forehead against the door, not in the mood to talk to him right now. Besides, whatever he had to say wouldn’t make any difference. She was finished with him.
“Kait, I know you’re there. I can hear you breathing against the door.”
She sighed and blinked away tears. Might as well let him in, then. Besides, she had a few things she wanted to say to him, starting with “it’s over”.
She opened the door and said, “What are you doing here?”
He was still dressed in his tux, though his tie was gone, collar unbuttoned and his jacket was open. And he looked entirely too edible. She was supposed to hate him, not want him.
