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My death stare stops him from talking. “Unlike you two morons, I have a reputation to uphold for this company. That’s why this one didn’t want the position.” I point in Carter’s direction, and he nods.
“I’m not the settling-down type,” he says, shrugging as if this shouldn’t be news to anyone. And it’s not.
Chase shakes his head. “So what happened? She’s a married matchmaker and you still decided to pursue her? Have you lost your damn mind? I mean I’m supposed to be the screwup, not you.”
I roll my eyes. “If you guys would let me finish—”
Carter cuts me off. “We keep trying to, but you’re taking forever to get to the point. Why were you out with her when I told you to stay away from her? And why is Hanson’s arm around her? Please tell me he’s not her husband.” Carter runs his hand over his face as if this is his problem.
Every one of us hates Jonathan Hanson for good reason. He’s an ass. Our shared history—the threats he lobbed years ago—are the reason I lost it last night. I’m not proud of how I handled everything with Grace. But fuck, I hate that guy. And watching the way he talked to her, and the way she smiled at him, and the way she so easily agreed to go out with him the next night—it fucking burned, and I snapped.
Not that it matters. She had plenty of opportunities to tell me the truth about her marriage and she didn’t. Obviously, I made more out of our connection than it was. It’s time to move on.
“No. Apparently, she and Hanson used to date. Or at least that’s the impression I got. I didn’t stick around to listen to her explanations.”
Carter nods in understanding. “Got it. So you’ve learned your lesson and you’ll stay away from the married chick. Excellent.”
I throw my head back in aggravation. If only any of this was that easy. “She’s not married. Or she was, or is, but she’s getting a divorce. And from what Hanson said it sounds like it was the husband’s fault. Not hers. So, I guess she didn’t cheat on him with me.”
Chase shakes his head. “I’m so confused. So, do you like this girl or what?”
“She’s not a girl; she’s a woman,” Carter says, pointing to her picture again. My eyes are drawn to the slit of her skirt and the flesh that flashes me from below. My mind keeps replaying the kiss we shared and the way her skin felt below my fingertips.
Thank God they didn’t get a picture of that.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. It’s too complicated.”
Hanson and I are already battling in business—our families have been feuding for years— so the last thing I need is to be caught up with a woman he’s also pursuing. And if she’s interested in a guy like Hanson, she’s not who I thought she was.
Carter slaps me on the back. “Now we’re talking some sense. Sure, she’s good-looking, but there are plenty of older women you could go after.”
I bite my lip in aggravation. “She’s not that old.”
Carter smirks. “For me she’s not. I’m guessing she’s only a few years younger than I am. But I like ’em younger, and you should too. Someone like that is ready for kids, and you do not have time for that right now.”
I massage the back of my neck, trying hard to work out the tension this conversation is bringing to my shoulders. “What I need is a drink. A night out with my brothers. Can you arrange that and keep your thoughts on everything else to yourself?”
Chase smiles. “Now that I can handle.”
Chapter 15
Grace
“Jeez, Grace, your boy gets around,” Tessa says in a raspy voice, throwing her phone at me. We are lying together in my bed after drinking an insane amount of alcohol yesterday. We spent the day drinking and laughing, and then she surprised me with dinner at one of our friend’s restaurants with women I hadn’t seen in years—Mallory, Eliza, and Luna. We shared a townhouse during college, but I’d lost touch with them when I moved to the suburbs.
Apparently, they all get together every Sunday for brunch and sometimes during the week for dinner. I’ve been part of a couple for so long that I never wondered what women my age did, especially those who had not found the person they wanted to settle down with.
We’re still young. This city is the perfect place to continue our youth—to not conform to the minivans dropping kids off at soccer practices and Friday night dinners with the neighbors that would bore you to tears.
And somehow single people think they are missing out on something.
After laughing until I cried at dinner, and then being convinced to go dancing at a club that was cooler than anywhere I’d been in my life, we came back here, ordered a pizza, and laughed until we fell asleep. I’m pretty sure society has life backwards. This is way better than marriage.
The sunlight from the window pierces my head like a knife, and I cover my face with my hand. “Can’t open my eyes; just read it to me.” Hesitating, I feel the drinks stirring in my stomach. “On second thought, don’t. I don’t need to know.”
Tessa groans. “Babe, he’s your client. This is kind of your job.”
My groans match hers. She’s right. “Okay, go.”
