Page 47 of Hate To Love You


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“Oh, my god. You fucked her, didn’t you?” my brother growls.

I swallow. “The situation is more complicated than—”

“Bullshit! You got some from her and decided that her pussy is more important than Dad’s justice. I can’t fucking believe you.”

Shit, Bret is pissed, which makes him almost impossible to reason with. Still, I have to try. Yeah, I admit the cynic in me still harbors niggling doubt about Bethany and wonders if I’m being played by a maestro. But I can’t admit my reservations to my brother. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Ninety-nine percent of me is not sorry about what happened last night, and I won’t let him guilt me into regretting the intimacy Bethany and I shared.

“Stop. Think. Do you want to know what happened to Dad and the money or not? I’m not going to get whatever information she has about the criminal operation at Reed Financial by being an asshole. She may be the only person who can tell us, so don’t judge. You’re not here. You don’t know what’s happening. You don’t know her. And you don’t know what she’s been through.”

“Whatever. I hope you can live with putting your dick above your family. Just don’t cry to me when she fucks you over, too.”

Suddenly, I hear three beeps in my ear and scowl. The little shit hung up on me? I shouldn’t be shocked. Bret has always been a rash hothead. I wish like fuck he would think things through before he acts.

Gritting my teeth, I shove my phone in my pocket. Now isn’t the time to reason with him. Sure, I know why he’s upset. I understand what my actions look like on the surface, but he shouldn’t judge without the facts. Once I can answer the questions we’ve all had since the day I told him Dad was gone, he’ll come around. For now, I’m going to focus on Bethany and earning her trust so she’ll tell me her secrets. No, we probably don’t have a future. That sucks because I actually like her, and we seriously had the best sex ever. But someday—soon—I’ll have to come clean with her. Hell, she doesn’t even know my real last name. And once she figures out who I am, she might even hate me.

Unless we’re stronger before I confess… Unless the feelings between us genuinely grow and she’s willing to forgive…

Because lying and deceit are totally the ways to persuade her not to lump you in the douchebag category.

Okay, I’ll have to try plan B, then—once I figure out what that is.

But what if Bret is right? that annoying voice asks me. What if she is guilty? Nope. I can’t let myself think about the fact I could be falling for the woman who contributed to my father’s demise.

The coffee finishes brewing, and I balance it all on the tray before I head back to Bethany’s cottage. Inside, I set everything on the kitchen counter, then tiptoe to the bed.

At my approach, she rolls over and opens her eyes.

The sight of her is a gut punch. Her pale hair splays across the sheets. Her half-closed eyes look slumberous and sexy as hell. But the little smile curling up her lips makes me want to strip down and persuade her to repeat last night right now.

“Morning,” she murmurs, voice husky.

Just like that, I’m hard again.

I clear my throat. “Morning. I found some food and coffee at the main house.”

She moans, something between acknowledgment and pleasure, then hides a lazy yawn behind her hand. “Thank you. That’s really sweet. Would you mind grabbing my robe off the back of the bathroom door?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind her that I’ve already seen it all, but if that makes her feel comfortable, I’ll do it.

“Sure.” I grab the pale blue satin garment and hand it to her.

“Thanks.”

“Want me to pour you some java?”

“Please. Can you add a splash of cream from the fridge and a stevia packet from the cabinet to the left?”

“You got it.”

By the time I’ve done that, Bethany rounds the corner to claim her steaming mug, robe securely belted around her small waist…which only accentuates the fact she’s not wearing a bra. I can see the points of her nipples. I remember what they felt like, tasted like. I remember how she responds to my touch.

She clutches the mug, blowing on her brew to cool it, not quite meeting my gaze.

I swallow down a scalding sip of my own and try not to seduce her, at least not before caffeine.

With a sigh, I set my java aside and grab her by the waist. “Come here.”

Bethany is stiff until I nestle her against me and press a gentle kiss to her lips. Finally, she blinks up at me. “You make good coffee.”

“You make good everything else. Last night was…” I grin at her. “Let’s just say I wanted to blow your doors off, but I’m the one dazzled.” When she blushes, I can’t help but laugh. “We’re good together. How are you feeling about it?”

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