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“I want you in both.”
Alisha licks her lips before pecking her husband’s cheek. “Perfect answer. Let’s go home.”
With only a quick bye to us, he follows his wife.
“He’s in for a wild night,” I murmur, downing the last of my drink as a wave of envy crashes over me. The unwavering devotion they have to one another is unbreakable. Cole and Alisha have battled an insidious stalker, coming out stronger than before. And Nick and Emma. They faced the terrifying kidnapping of their daughter Charlotte, who miraculously survived due to Nick’s brave actions. The thought of having something as strong as what they have fills my soul with longing. And as hard as I try, I can’t stop my mind from picturing Amanda to be the one to have that with. My eyes trail to Nick as he takes a sip of champagne, his gaze firmly on Emma as she flows through the room, mingling her freshly made pastries that welcomed guests at the door. From a hardworking single mother working from home to owning a luxurious kitchen and providing a selection of treats to restaurants across town, Emma has come so far.
My eyes go back to watching Amanda. She’s talking to photographer Cody Michaels, and I can feel my fists clench at my side when Cody utters something close to her ear and she laughs.What is he saying? She said she doesn’t mix business with pleasure, but he wouldn’t mind. Fuck.I can’t stand the thought of them together, and the twinge of jealousy that stabs through me makes my stomach twist.
“Is there a reason you’re looking at Amanda the way you do?” Nick asks.
I try to act like I don’t understand his question, but my heart drops faster than a stone in a well. “Huh? No idea what you mean.” I shift my weight, trying to hide my growing discomfort. He exhales deeply and rakes his fingers through his hair.
“You sure? You know you can tell me anything. We’re best friends.” His voice is soft, almost gentle, yet there’s something hidden in it too. Something that unnerves me.
“I know,” I mutter.
Nick is a genuine guy—he cares about people deeply, but when it comes to his sister, his protective instincts turn into Big Brother mode at lightning speed. I know he wouldn’t be cool with me telling him my thoughts of Amanda; of how I’m thinking of stripping her naked and having her beneath me for hours on end; not with my track record with women.
Nick flashes that famous charming grin as Emma beckons him to come over. He places his drink down on the counter and looks at me with appreciation in his eyes.
“I’m off. Gonna charm my wife into leaving this place. Thanks for helping Amanda get this event together. You’re a damn good friend, Brian.”
I watch him leave and sigh as my gaze falls back on his sister, but in my eyes the goddess of the night. My heart races recalling all these weeks, even years, of wanting her and yet still not being able to admit it, the familiar voice berating me louder than ever to take a chance and show her how a real man should treat her. The battle between my apprehension and desire wages on as I ponder what to do—take a chance or remain silent?
Hours later,I let out a soft sigh of relief while closing the door with a quiet click. As I spin around, I survey the now empty club. Soft, intimate lights cast a warm hue over the walls, sending dancing shadows across as soft music plays in the background. From the corner of my eye, Amanda comes into focus. She’s perched on top of a barstool, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights.
I advance behind the bar and stop opposite her. Her twirling of the straw between her fingers ceases as her thoughtful gaze fixes on some distant point.
“Where’s Fiona?” she asks, and I don’t miss the tension in her voice.
“Don’t know and don’t care. I’m not interested in her. Told her that too.”
“Really? Why? You looked quite intrigued by her, or should I say, parts of her, earlier tonight.” Her disbelief is evident in her tone.
Resisting an urge to hurtle a glass across the room in frustration, I settle for lowering my voice to a harsh whisper. “Not everything is what it seems, Amanda.”
She exhales a deep sigh and continues stirring her drink. Desperate to escape this conversation, I attempt to redirect her thoughts by doing what we’re here to do.
“Tonight was an incredible success,” I say with a smile.
Her eyes glimmer with emotions as she brandishes her phone triumphantly. “I just checked and there’s been a massive influx of orders for both lingerie and clothing.” The joy in her voice compels me to keep the conversation rolling.
“Let’s toast,” I propose, lifting my glass to hers. Our eyes interlock, and in an instant, I’m aware of every part of her body: the curve of her neck, the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, to the way her creamy skin glows in the gentle light; she’s breathtaking.
“To the successful launch,” I say, my voice huskier than I had intended, the weight of my unspoken desires hanging in the air between us.
Amanda’s glass clinks against mine, and as her lips brush against the rim, my mind ignites with a blaze of longing. The thought of kissing her, tasting her, fills my every thought. I need to regain control, to douse this fire threatening to consume me. But when she sets her glass down and looks at me, her eyes filled with unspoken questions, it’s as if she can read my very thoughts.
I take a deep breath, my gaze dropping, but she strikes while the iron is hot, her voice soft yet resolute. “Aren’t you tired of fighting the chemistry between us?”
My heart skips a beat as I lower my gaze, struggling to find the right words. “It’s safer to fight it,” I say, my voice laced with a mix of fear and longing.
“Safer for who?” Her question cuts through me, the intensity of her gaze searing into my soul.
My throat tightens, and I swallow hard. “Safer for us both,” I respond, my voice strained with the weight of regret.
A flicker of pain passes through her eyes, and she shifts, her lips pursed in frustration. I steal a glance in her direction, my stomach knotting at the sight of her hurt expression.
