Page 29 of Crave and Torn


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Yeah. I sure did. What a mistake.

The realization hits me like a swift kick in the ribs. Yet again, I did it. I went after a man who has no intentions to do right by me. Heck, I have no intention of doing right by him. To do so would be utter foolishness. The man is a mess. He’s a complete and utter mess and I have no one to blame but myself for getting involved with him.

I almost want to laugh at my mental choice of words. Involved. As if what we shared contains any sort of involvement beyond the quick and dirty sexual kind.

Archer Bancroft is my ultimate failure. That Humpty Dumpty of a man can never, ever be put back together again. I won’t even bother trying.

Archer

Hey, what’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy.” So damn busy I can hardly breathe. Not so busy that I haven’t been thinking of a certain someone constantly. Hence my reason for calling her brother—I’m digging for information. “You make that deal you told me about?”

“I sure did. Purchased the property for an absolute song. Already have a buyer lined up, and my end of the deal isn’t even closed yet.” Gage chuckles, sounding pleased with himself. “It all came together way too easy.”

“That sort of thing usually makes me nervous.” Struggles and roadblocks actually make me feel better when it comes to business. And life. When it’s too easy, there’s always a catch.

Always.

“I’ve been working this guy for over a year. This was definitely not an easy deal. I finally got him to cave. I’m a persistent motherfucker when I need to be.” Gage full blown laughs.

Wasn’t that the truth? One of the many traits Gage and I share. “Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” He pauses. “There must be another reason you called. You’re not one for chitchat.”

I blow out a harsh breath, working up my nerve. “Listen, I need Ivy’s work number,” I say as nonchalantly as I can, leaning back in my chair so I can stare out the window.

“Why? Call her cell.” Gage sounds distracted. “Or are you afraid she won’t answer you.”

Damn Gage for being too perceptive. “I need to talk to herabout a business proposition.” Not a lie. The new location is going into fast-forward mode and the interior designer I hired to transform Hush is unavailable. I need someone quick.

I need Ivy.

“Are you serious? She’s just a junior associate, you know. I have no idea if she’s up to snuff with what you might need.” Gage mutters something under his breath, and I hear a female’s soft laugh.

“Way to bag on your sister.” I shake my head, irritated with him. “And where the hell are you anyway?”

“Work. Where the hell are you?”

Doesn’t sound like he’s at work. And he’s awfully quick on the defense. “Come on, just give me her number.”

“Hold on, I need to scroll through my contacts. Give me a minute.”

Tapping my fingers impatiently against the edge of my desk, I wait. I can hear Gage say something, hear the light tones of a woman answering him, and I wonder who he’s with on a Monday afternoon. Can’t help but feel a little jealous too.

Jealousy is an emotion I’m not used to and definitely not comfortable with. There’s no need to get jealous if I’m never with a woman beyond a night or two, right? I move through life with no entanglements, no relationships beyond my friendships, and even then I don’t let many into my inner circle. Hell, I don’t even stay in regular contact with my mom, not that she cares. She’s too busy hitting the bottle or fighting with my father. And I deal with him only because I have to.

More than one woman has described me as a loner. Fairly accurate. I surround myself with plenty of people but it’smeaningless. A good time for a few hours before I go home alone. Socially I’ve withdrawn as I become more consumed with work. This latest project has kept me constantly going these last few weeks.

I miss Ivy. I regret calling what happened between us a mistake. It wasn’t. Screw the bet, forget my friends, forget everything. I want to see her. It’s been over three weeks. Three long weeks without seeing her pretty face, that gorgeous smile. Hell, I miss hearing her all exasperated with me, insulting me, telling me to leave her alone.

I miss the way her body felt beneath mine. How she tugged on my hair tight, the hot little words she panted against my lips just before I made her come.

“All right, here you go,” Gage says, interrupting my thoughts as he rattles off a number. I scribble it across a notepad, my mind still foggy with images of Ivy, and I blink hard, banishing her as best I can. She is the last thing I need to think of while I’m talking to her brother.

“Thanks,” I mutter, dropping the pen on my desk and scrubbing my hand over my face. I need to get a grip.

“You’re serious about wanting to hire her?”

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